Graham’s first Tinder date was on Saturday, and before he left, I forced him to change out of his suit and tie and into a plain white T-shirt and dark jeans.
“It feels too casual,” he complained.
“Um, it’s not like your clothes are going to stay on anyway. Now go. Go on and spread some legs, do some pelvic thrusts, and then come back home and write about horror stories and monsters.”
He left at eight-thirty that night.
By nine, he’d returned.
I arched an eyebrow. “Um, not to sound totally disrespectful to your manhood and all but…that was legit the fastest round of sex in the history of sex.”
“I didn’t sleep with her,” Graham replied, dropping his keys on the table in the foyer.
“What? Why?”
“She turned out to be a liar.”
“Oh no!” I frowned, feeling my chest tighten for him. “Married? Kids? Three hundred pounds bigger than her picture? Did she have a penis? Was her name George?”
“No,” he said harshly, plopping down on the living room couch.
“Then what was it?”
“Her hair.”
“Huh?”
“Her hair. On the app, she was a brunette, but when I got there, she was a blonde.”
I blinked repeatedly. Full-on blank stare. “Come again?”
“I’m just saying, it’s obvious that if she’d lie about something like that, she’d lie about gonorrhea and chlamydia.” The way he said it with such a straight face made me burst out into a giggling fit.
“Yes, Graham, that’s exactly how it works.” I laughed, my stomach hurting from laughing so hard.
“This isn’t funny, Lucille. It turns out I’m not a person who can just randomly sleep with someone. I’m on a deadline, and I cannot for the life of me figure out how I’m going to loosen up in time to send the book to my editor. It was supposed to be done by the time Talon was born. That was over six months ago.”
I smiled widely and bit my bottom lip. “You know what? I think I have an idea, and I’m one hundred and ten percent sure you’re going to hate it.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“Have you ever heard of hot yoga?”
“I’m the only man in here,” Graham whispered as he walked into the yoga studio with me that Sunday morning. He was in a white tank top with gray sweatpants, and he looked terrified.
“Don’t be silly, Graham Cracker. The instructor is a guy. Toby. You’ll fit right in.”
I lied.
He didn’t fit right in, but at least watching a grown man with muscles on top of muscles trying to do a sun salutation was the highlight of my life—and of the lives of all the women in class that morning.
“Now travel from cobra to downward dog to pigeon with controlled movement,” Toby instructed.
Graham groaned, doing the movements but complaining the whole time. “Cobra, pigeon, camel—why is every move named after a sex position?” he asked.
I giggled. “You know, most people would say those are named after animals, Graham Cracker, not sex positions.”
He turned my way and after a second, realization broke through. A tiny smile formed. “Touché.”
“You’re super tight,” the instructor noted to Graham as he walked around to help him.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” Graham started, but it was too late. Toby was helping adjust his hips.
“Relax,” Toby said in his soothing voice. “Relax.”
“It’s hard to relax when a stranger is touching my—” Graham’s eyes widened. “Yup, that’s my penis. You are actually touching my penis,” Graham muttered as the instructor helped him with one of the positions.
I couldn’t stop giggling at how ridiculous and uncomfortable Graham looked. His face was so stern, and when Toby made Graham pop his butt out, I had tears rolling down my cheeks from laughter.
“Okay, class, one final breath. In with the good energies, out with the bad. Namaste.” Toby bowed to us all, and Graham just stayed there, lying on the floor in a pile of sweat, tears, and his manhood.
I kept giggling to myself. “Come on, get up.” I reached down to him, and he took my hand as I pulled him up. As he stood up, he shook his nasty, sweaty hair all over me. “Ew! That’s disgusting.”
With a sly smile, he said, “You made me get touched in public, so you get to enjoy the sweat.”
“Trust me, you’re lucky it’s Toby who touched you instead of the women who are currently gawking at you over in the corner right now.”
He turned to see the women staring his way, waving. “You women and your sex-driven minds,” he joked.
“Says the man who does camel as a sex position. What do you do exactly? Do you just sit on your knees and like”—I thrust my hips—“do this repeatedly?” I kept making the humping motion, which turned Graham’s face even redder than it had been during the class.
“Lucille.”
“Yes?”
“Stop humping the air.”
“I would, but your embarrassment is too rewarding right now.” I laughed. He was so easily humiliated, and I knew being around me in public would be awful for him. I’d take every opportunity to make myself look like a fool. “Okay, so needless to say, hot yoga isn’t your thing.”
“Not at all. If anything, I feel more stressed out, and a pinch violated,” he joked.
“Well, let me try a few more things to see if they help you.”
He cocked an eyebrow as if he could read my mind. “You’re going to sage my house, aren’t you? Or put crystals on my windowsills?”
“Oh yeah.” I nodded. “I’m going to weird hippie the crap out of your house, and then you’re going to help me in the garden.”
I spent the next few weeks out in the backyard, teaching Graham the ins and outs of gardening. We planted fruits, vegetables, and beautiful flowers. I made lines of sunflowers that would look so beautiful as they grew tall over time. In one corner of the yard was a stone bench, which would be perfect for morning energy meditations and great as an afternoon reading corner. I surrounded it with beautiful flowers that would light up the area—Peruvian lilies, nepeta faasseniis, coreopsis, forget-me-nots, and gloriosa daisies. The colors would be beautiful mixed together. The pinks, blues, yellows, and purples would add a pop of color to Graham’s life, that was for sure.
As the baby monitor started going off, Graham stood up from the dirt. “I’ll get her.”
Only a few minutes passed before I heard him shouting my name.
“LUCILLE!”
I sat up in the dirt, alarmed by the urgency in Graham’s shout.
“LUCILLE, HURRY!”
I shot up to my feet, my heart pounding in my chest, dirt across my face, and I sprinted into the house. “What is it?!” I hollered back.
“In the living room! Hurry!” he shouted once more.
I ran, terrified about what I was about to witness, and when I made it into the space, my heart landed in my throat as I wrapped my hands over my mouth. “Oh my gosh,” I said, my eyes watering over as I looked at Talon.
“I know, right?” Graham said, smiling at his daughter. For a long time, he’d tried his best to hold in his grins, but he hadn’t been able to lately. The more Talon laughed and smiled, the more she opened Graham’s heart.
He was holding Talon in his arms, feeding her.
Well, he wasn’t feeding her—she was feeding herself, holding the bottle in her own hands for the first time.
My heart exploded with excitement.
“I was feeding her, and she wrapped her hands around the bottle and started to hold it herself,” he told me, his eyes wide with pride.
As we cheered her on, Talon started giggling and spat milk into Graham’s face, making us both laugh. I grabbed a cloth and wiped the milk from his cheek.
“She amazes me every day,” he said, staring at his daughter. “It’s too bad that Jane…” He paused. “That Lyric is missing out on it. She has no clue what she left behind.”
I nodded in agreement. “She’s missing everything. It’s just sad.”
“What was it like, growing up together?” he asked.
I was a bit surprised—we’d spent months together and he hadn’t once asked me any questions about my sister.
I sat on the couch beside him and shrugged. “We moved around a lot. Our mom was a bit of a floater, and when my dad couldn’t take any more, he left us. Lyric was older and noticed more issues than Mari and I did. Every day with my mother felt like a new adventure. The lack of a real home never bothered me because we had each other, and whenever we needed something, some kind of miracle would happen.
“But Lyric didn’t see it that way. She was very much like our father—grounded. She hated not knowing where our next meal would come from. She hated that sometimes Mama would give what little money we did have to help out a friend in need. She hated the instability of our lives, so when she’d finally had enough, when she could no longer take the person Mama was, she did exactly as our father had—she left.”
“She’s always been a runner,” he stated.
“Yes, and a part of me wants to hate her for how distant and cold she became, but another part understands. She had to grow up fast, and in a way, Lyric wasn’t wrong. Our mother was kind of a child herself, which meant we didn’t have much parenting growing up. Lyric felt as if she had to take on that role and parent her parent.”
“Which is why she probably never wanted kids,” he said. “She’d already done the parent role.”
“Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t forgive her actions at all, but it makes them more understandable.”
“I think I could tell when I met her that she was a runner. Also, I’m certain she could tell I was cold, that I’d never once ask her to stay.”
“Do you miss her?” I asked, my voice low.
“No,” he answered quickly, no hesitation whatsoever. “She and I were never in love. We had an unspoken agreement that if one was ever ready to go, they were free to do so. The marriage arrangement was just something she thought would help her advance in her career.
“We were simply roommates who happened to have sex sometimes. Before Talon, it would’ve been fine if she left. It would’ve been completely acceptable. Hell, I was somewhat surprised she stayed as long as she did. I wouldn’t have cared, but now…” He smiled down at Talon as she burped for him, and then he laid her on the blanket on the floor. “Now I call her each night, asking her to come back, not for me, but for our daughter. I know what it’s like to grow up without a mother, and I’d never want that for Talon.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “Not your fault. Anyway, how’s the garden?”
“Perfect. It’s perfect. Thank you again for the gift. It means more to me than you could imagine.”
He nodded. “Of course. I’m guessing you’re gone this weekend, for the holiday?” He climbed from the couch onto the floor and started playing peekaboo with Talon, which made my heart do cartwheels.
“I was supposed to be, but it turns out I’m spending the holiday alone.”
“What? Why?”
I explained that Mari would be out of town, and that I normally made the trip up north but didn’t want to do the drive alone.
“You should come to Professor Oliver’s house with Talon and me,” Graham offered.
“What? No. No, it’s really okay.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. “Hello? Professor Oliver, how are you?”
“Graham, no!” I whisper-shouted, reaching out my arm to stop him, but he stood up and wouldn’t allow me to grab the phone.
“Good, I’m good.” Pause. “No, I’m not trying to back out. I’m calling to see if you could add another chair to your table. It appears Lucille was going to sit in her apartment for Easter and cry into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and while I think that’s a completely normal thing to do, I thought I’d see if you could host her at your place.”
Another long pause.
Graham smiled.
“Very well. Thank you, Professor Oliver. We’ll see you this weekend.” He hung up and turned my way. “They are having a brunch at one. It will be us, Professor Oliver and Mary, and their daughter, Karla, and her fiancée, Susie. You should bring a dish.”
“I cannot believe you did that!” I hollered, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch and tossing it at him. He smiled even more.
God, that smile.
If he had smiled more often before, I was certain Lyric would’ve never been able to leave his side.
He picked up the pillow and threw it back at me, making me fall backward onto the couch. “We can drive over there together. I can pick you up from your house.”
“Perfect.” I grabbed the pillow and threw it back at him. “Dress code?”
He tossed it at me one last time and bit his bottom lip, allowing the small dimple in his right cheek to appear. “Anything you wear will be good enough for me.”