Chapter 35 Honor Gravehart
Thirty-Five
Honor Gravehart
All night, I stayed parked outside Gravehart Homes with Mekhi's image stuck in my head.
I knew everything there was to know about Mekhi.
Even though I kept my distance over the years, I made sure someone was always watching him.
Mekhi was gifted. Smart enough to get skipped a grade when he was in elementary, and talented too.
He played the piano, ran track, and played basketball.
Mekhi had all the makings of becoming someone great in life, as long as he stayed on the right side of things.
The way he stepped out on the porch last night, eyes glinting with anger, and his chest puffed out like he was ready to stand on business, said he was more of me than I thought.
That shit was eerie, but the longer I sat parked out there, the more something about him started to make sense.
All the good in him, the gentleness fighting against the anger in his eyes…
that was Navy. Her impact on him, even without him knowing she was his mother, was undeniable.
I loved that for him 'cause what she couldn't fix in me she was making sure never broke in him.
Out of the blue, Wynn softly knocked against my window, startling me.
"I'm so sorry," Wynn apologized when I rolled it down. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to ask if everything was okay because you're here so early."
After spending the night in my car, the sunrise woke me up. I drove home to take a quick shower, then headed out to Crimson Falls, hoping I could squeeze in a session with Dr. Lockhart. Too much shit had happened. Most of it I could handle, but I was struggling with what Lucian said about my pops.
"I wanted to see if your mom could fit me in for an early session."
"Come inside, and I'll check her schedule." Wynn smiled. "Thursdays are her early days, so she might have a little wiggle room since you're here already, and she'll be driving in soon."
"The two of you don't drive in together?" I asked, hopping out of my truck.
"We used to, but after my dad passed, she—"
"I get it." I nodded.
"Yeah." She sighed.
The short walk from the parking lot to the facility was quiet. Wynn struggled with the door, her hands full with books, a coffee, and her iPad.
"Give me the keys," I told her.
She handed them over with a soft laugh. "I usually carry a bag, but I was running late this morning and just grabbed what I needed and left."
I unlocked the door and held it open.
"Thank you."
Once inside, she went straight to the alarm system and punched in the code. While she set her stuff on the counter, a cracked skate caught my eye. It dangled next to her keys, tarnished and barely holding on.
"Wassup with the skate?" I asked, picking it up.
"I told you I used to figure skate, right?"
"Yeah," I said, turning it over in my hand. "But this looks old, and it's turning green."
"My father gave it to me," she disclosed, her voice softening to almost a whisper.
"He brought it from a gift shop when I was four.
He took me to see Amara 'Nova' Darling perform, and that's when I fell in love with the sport.
The way she glided across the ice like she was born from it was so beautiful. "
She paused.
"You probably don't care about any of this. Let me check Dr. Lockhart's schedule for you."
"I wanna hear it," I told her. "Where I'm from, you don't hear young women or little girls talk about figure skating. Shit like that is foreign."
"I can see that." She faintly smiled. "Most people here don't talk about it either. Figure skating is for the who's who of the white world. That's why Nova means so much to me."
Wynn touched the cracked skate.
"Seeing someone whose skin looks like mine, hair coils like mine, curves like mine glide across the ice made me feel like anything was possible.
It was kind of like the Princess Tiana moment.
" She shrugged. "So I kept this and carried it everywhere as a reminder of my father and Nova.
They both made me feel like it was okay to dream the unexpected. "
"That's deep." I nodded.
"Yeah. I'ma sentimental kind of girl. The small, meaningful things matter the most to—"
"Bronwynn, why aren't the lights fully on yet? Have you done a full sweep of the premises and checked in with the night staff?"
Dr. Lockhart walked into the facility like a hurricane. Her presence instantly straightened Wynn's posture and wiped the easy smile from her face.
"Not yet, I was talking to—"
"Talking isn't your priority when you come to Crimson Falls Wellness Institute, Bronwynn. Do we need to have a session about the importance of you taking your role here seriously?"
"No, I was—"
"Whatever Wynn didn't do is because of me," I interrupted. "I showed up early, and she was just making sure I was okay."
"Oh, Honor," Dr. Lockhart pressed a hand to her chest. "I didn't even see you standing there."
"I wouldn't have expected you," I chuckled to lighten the tension. I didn't know shit about mother-daughter relationships, but I'd watched Gigi with Chosyn enough to know Dr. Lockhart and Wynn's bond should've been more affectionate than what it was.
"I've been ducking Wynn's calls to schedule my next session because I found out some information about my pops that fucked… I mean, it messed me up. I got an important meeting coming up soon, and I need to be in the right headspace for it."
"Okay." She nodded. "I have a few minutes I normally use to grab a quick bite, but for you, I'll go hungry." She laughed lightly. "Let me do a lap with Bronwynn first, then I'll come get you."
"No problem." I nodded as they walked off.
Pulling out my phone, I snapped a quick picture of the cracked figure skate and sent it to my jeweler with a quick message explaining what I needed done and where to ship it once he finished.
I was about to close the thread, but I sent another message asking him to ship the other piece I'd been sitting on for years with the one I'd just requested.
A few moments later, Dr. Lockhart returned with a calmer energy than when she had walked in.
"I'm ready for you, Honor." She smiled.
I stood and followed her toward our usual therapy room. She walked in first and sat down, while I stood by the window rather than taking the seat across from her.
"Would you like me to ease you into the conversation about your father?" she asked, crossing her legs. "Or do you want to jump right in?"
I leaned against the window frame and let out a slow breath. I watched a thin line of sunlight crawl across the floor, reminding me of the time I spent locked in Lucian's basement.
"Is easing into actually easier or just slower?"
Dr. Lockhart tilted her head, considering what I said.
"Sometimes slower is easier," she replied. "It gives your mind time to stay present instead of running from the memory."
"I don't think my mind runs," I told her.
"No?"
"Nah," I said, meeting her eyes. "It locks shit up."
"Well," she nodded, "we can unlock one door at a time, or you can kick it open. Which feels more honest to you?"
"Kicking it up." I chuckled, but the sound didn't carry any humor. I forced out a breath and moved from the window to the chair across from her.
"I didn't remember much about my pops until I asked the man who raised me if he knew him. Talking to him about it brought on a lot of shit my younger self wanted to forget."
Dr. Lockhart stayed quiet, giving my thoughts the freedom to land wherever they needed.
"Small things started coming back to me while we talked. The smell of his cologne. The way the floor creaked whenever he walked through the house. The regular stuff you miss after your pops died."
I rubbed my palms against my jeans, trying to keep them still.
"I even remembered his laugh."
"What did it sound like?" Dr. Lockhart smiled.
"Mine." I smirked. "All the small stuff I remembered was cool, but the way he died is what I can't shake."
"How did it happen?" she gently asked, then paused. "If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to answer."
"I need to get this out." My breathing went shallow like the memory was already clawing its way up.
Dr. Lockhart gave a small nod.
"Take your time," she encouraged. "There's no rush."
"I was young. It always seems like I'm young when the most traumatizing shit happens to me." I laughed coldly. "I might have been six. The bike was too big for me, but I begged my pops to teach me. I'd seen some of the older kids on the block riding, and I wanted to ride too."
I smiled at the memory.
"At first, I kept staring at the ground. Every time my head dipped, my father lifted it and told me to hold my head with confidence so nobody could ever question it."
"Your father sounds like a good man."
"He was at least, from what I can remember." I shrugged. "You can't put shit past people. Parents are supposed to come off like superheroes to their kids, but even they have pasts."
"That's true." She nodded. "Please continue."
"It took me a minute, but I kept my head up and eyes forward. I was struggling to keep the bike steady. I was wobbling like crazy. Every time I started tipping over, he'd grab the seat and tell me he had me."
I could almost hear him saying it now.
"No one in this world is going to catch you before you fall, but while I'm here, I'll always protect you."
Dr. Lockhart nodded. "This sounds like a beautiful memory from your childhood.
"It was until—"
The rest of that day got stuck in my throat.
Pressure cinched around my ribs like a rope being pulled tighter and tighter. The room started shrinking around me, the edges of everything blurring together.
"I… tried again, and I thought I had it, but then I fell over. The bike fell on me… my pops' blood… his blood was—"
My hand started shaking.
"Honor."
Dr. Lockhart's voice cut through the noise building in my head.
"Look at me."
I forced my eyes to hers, swallowing the lump lodged in my throat.
"Breathe with me."