Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Ginger
“Early flight?” I say, looking at him over my shoulder.
“Yeah,” he says awkwardly.
“Can I make you some coffee for the road?”
“Nah,” he says. “I’ll grab some at the airport.”
I nod and pour the pan of milk into the biggest mug I can find in the cabinet.
“You know, you can microwave that,” he says.
I get the kettle going to make a cup of herbal tea for myself.
“Grak can tell the difference. He doesn’t trust the microwave.”
My brother thinks about this. “You know, you should think really hard about being with someone who makes you get up at 4 a.m. to heat up goat’s milk on the stove.”
I shake my head. “He doesn’t ask me to do this, nor does he make me do anything. He wakes up famished, and this is what he wants. I’ve just sort of attuned to it. I can’t explain it.”
Thomas arches an eyebrow, and it’s obvious he has a long way to go before he trusts Grak as a part of the family.
“I’m just looking out for you,” he says.
“I know. I appreciate that, big brother.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Shrugging, I drop a tea bag of hibiscus flowers into my cup. “I know I love him. That’s all I know.”
“Is that enough? I used to think that’s enough.”
After a long, quiet moment, the kettle finishes and I fill my cup. I sit down at the table, and he sits across from me, saying nothing as I stir my tea.
“Love is not enough on its own. Or what I used to think love is,” I say.
“But he’s shown me what it really is. He’s there for me.
Just being there. Showing up when I needed him, without me asking.
Listening. He says what he means, and he wants to care for me.
And oh, god, as crazy as it sounds, I want to protect him with everything in me. That’s enough for me.”
Thomas sits forward in his seat and runs his fingers over his mouth, deep in thought. “He’s just so…big and brutish. Nothing about him makes any sense.”
I smile. “And yet, Grak is kind. He looks after me like I’m just the most precious thing to him. And look at how gentle he is with Ashley and Reese.”
Thomas nods and sits back in his chair. “I just want you to be safe and happy.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Or I will be, as soon as we hear back about Mom’s latest MRI.”
My feeling of absolute certainty about the coming MRI results, I don’t say aloud. My brother is already too spooked by all the changes in our lives.
He stands, and this time, I don’t have a problem hugging him.
“FaceTime me, will you? When you get the results?”
I nod and promise to do that.
And then, like the wind that brought him to me a few short weeks ago, my brother is gone again, headed back to LA.
I watch the rental car’s taillights wind down the long driveway and through the woods, until I can no longer see them.
I set the mug of goat’s milk on the side table on Grak’s side of the bed. Though in reality, he’s so huge that he takes up all of the bed.
I crawl on top of him and pull up the blanket. It radiates with heat as I cover myself with it. Starting to wake, Grak grunts and pulls me tighter against him, his arms hugging me outside of the blanket.
“My brother just left for the airport.”
“Hm.”
“He says you’d better treat me right or he’ll beat you up.”
Grak stiffens for a moment and says, “I would never lift a hand against family. But he would lose that fight.”
I let out a little snort.
His vast body goes soft again, and he exhales sleepily. “This is one of your jokes. He did not say that.”
“He did not.”
“You pull my arm.”
“Leg.”
“Leg,” he says through a yawn.
“I have your goat’s milk.”
Grak hums and smashes his soft lips against my forehead. “Thank you.”
He sits up, and I try to crawl away to give him space, but Grak does not want that. Instead, he keeps me planted right on his lap as he drinks his milk, with me wrapped in the blanket.
“And your sister?”
“She leaves later today.”
“And have you had a productive conversation with May yet?”
“Not exactly.”
“Not at all, then. You should resolve things. Don’t let her leave without letting her know you love her.”
May and I have never been the hold-hands-and-sing-kum-ba-yah type of sisters. So I have to think about how I want to do that.
Later that day, when my sister and her family are getting ready to leave, Grak carries all their luggage to their SUV, not letting anyone else lift a finger.
“You need some help with that?” I say.
Grak Tetrises the luggage into the car and points at me. “You. May. Talk to each other.”
May smooths down the front of her coat. “Well, I guess this is it. Let me know how those MRI results come back.”
I nod. She places one hand on the handle of the passenger side door. Acting before thinking, I gently grab her arm. “May?”
Looking surprised, she says, “Yeah? What is it, Ginger?”
“Uh…you should send me photos and let me know what’s going on with Ashley and Reese.”
May blinks at me. “I should?”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling softly. “I’m an auntie to two little kids. Not everybody gets to be an aunt. I want to know everything.”
My sister smiles hesitantly. “I thought it might be weird, since you didn’t have kids and now…”
“I’m in love with someone so different from me, he may not be able to give me children. If not, I’m fine with that. But, please don’t let that influence our relationship. Send me lots of updates about the kids. And about you, too.”
May blinks at me and bites her bottom lip.
Is she getting emotional? No, not my sister.
“I’ll do that,” she says, then lowers her voice conspiratorially so Grak can’t hear.
“But don’t be too sure about the idea that he can’t give you babies.
I’m shocked that you’re not already pregnant just from the way he looks at you. ”
“May!” I shriek a laugh.
She shrugs and gives me one of those smiles that tells me I’ve impressed my big sister. I never thought I needed her approval, but if she likes Grak for me, I’m thrilled.
Finished with loading the luggage, Grak rests a hand on my shoulder and squeezes.
Ashley and Reese run up to the car, but instead of hugging me goodbye, they run straight to Grak.
They both have to crane their necks to meet his eyes with theirs.
Grak arcs an eyebrow and looks down at them. “You both want uppies?”
Their cries of “yes!” have all the adults laughing.
Grak picks them up and gives them a double helicopter ride.
All of us are still laughing when my phone rings.
I pull it out of my pocket and swallow. “It’s Dad,” I say.
He and Mom are at the hospital in Lakewood today.
I answer quickly. “Dad, hi. How’s Mom?”
He clears his throat. “Good, she’s good. We just spoke with the doctor, and we have the results.”
“Already?”
“Yeah.”
I grab May’s hand and place Dad on speaker.
Grak stops doing helicopters with the children and bundles them up in his arms, cradling them close to his chest and shushing them when they protest. “It’s Papa,” he says, his deep voice calming them down. He steps in close enough for me to feel his warmth.
“What did the doctor say, Dad?”
A rare show of emotion comes through as Dad’s voice shakes. “The doctor said she’d never seen anything like this…”
I brace myself against Grak’s hard wall of strength and warmth.
Whatever the news is, we will weather it together, as a family.