Chapter 16
Sixteen
Grady
“Hope is the only bee that makes honey without flowers.”
Robert Green Ingersoll
Lou is exhausted by the time I call it quits.
She wants to keep going, but she can barely hold her own arms up.
Mentally, she’s just as spent. I witnessed the battle waged in that pretty head of hers.
One side fighting to keep safe and hidden, the other ready to step into the light and fight for the career she’s spent a decade building.
There are many reasons for me to hate the man who has done this to her, but mostly, I hate him for making her doubt how strong she is.
Lou doesn’t see it. Can’t, yet, I suspect.
But I see it. I saw it today when she refused to give up.
Every time I said again, she took the challenge head-on and kept muttering the words muscle memory.
She isn’t physically strong; her targets need to be the unsuspecting soft spots that she can penetrate more easily. Men instinctively protect their junk; we forget about other places. I’ll teach her all of those. One after another until it’s second nature for her.
It won’t be the same if she ever comes face-to-face with Pierre, but she needs every advantage she can have.
I hope she never has to see that asshole again. At the same time, I wish for that opportunity. For the chance to put him through what he put her through. To cage him, scrutinize everything about him until he knows he’s smaller and weaker than me, then beat the ever-loving fucking shit out of him.
A foreign feeling for me, since my life is dedicated to the opposite. I save. I mend.
Do no harm.
I want to harm him.
I’d want retribution for anyone in her situation. But for Lou, I want retaliation. It’s too powerful a need to ignore that it’s a sign of who she is in my life. Of what she means.
The connection I feel with her is inexplicable. When she moves, I move. What she feels, I feel. What she needs, I need for her.
I’ve been in love before. This is different. It’s more.
With Brenda, if there hadn’t been romance and love between us, we wouldn’t have been friends.
With Lou, I can’t imagine her ever not being a part of my life.
I can’t imagine the day I wouldn’t care about her.
Even if she goes off and marries some random man, I’d want to be there when she says I do, if only to see that little excited dance she does when she accomplishes something new.
The idea of soulmates has always seemed silly to me. But if there is some unseen force, some spiritual guide that plays with all our lives, I wonder if they’re sighing in relief that Lou and I finally found each other.
I am. I do every time I see her. Like I do with Paige, like my mother has always done with me, I’m relieved to have her back in my sight.
“You’re staying for dinner, right? A couple of friends are coming over, too, to say hello to my parents.”
“Yeah, I’ll be here. I want to spend as much time with Jules as I can before she goes back to Portland,” she says.
Juliet leaves in the morning, and while I’ll miss her the way I always do…
“Maybe tomorrow I can sneak over after bedtime. We can have the house to ourselves,” I say, stepping closer to her and rubbing my nose along hers, reveling in the breathy gasp that escapes her.
“Like teenagers when the parents are away,” she says, a sly twitch stretching her mouth.
“Something like that,” I say. “Though, I don’t have much experience sneaking out to meet girls.” It was never my style. Besides that, my parents were always laid-back about giving me the freedom to do typical kid shit. Maybe that’s why there wasn’t any appeal to it; there wasn’t any danger.
“Well, I have no experience with sneaking boys into my room.”
“No? You were a good girl, huh?”
“Not by choice,” she says. “My mother was a light sleeper and absolutely would have caught me. Plus, I was the tall, gangly girl in school. Boys weren’t interested.”
“Lou, I believe you believe that. But trust me, they were plenty interested. They were probably just more intimidated.”
“Wrong.” She rolls her eyes playfully.
“Oh, I’m right,” I say, laughing. “There is no way in hell any smelly Arkansas boy in his Levi’s jeans and Roper boots wasn’t drooling over you every day.”
“What do you know about Ropers?”
“Not a fucking thing. This is the coastal Pacific Northwest; boys around here wore Vans and Birkenstocks.”
“Did you wear your Birkenstocks with socks?”
“Fuck yes, I did,” I say. “And I’ll hear no arguments from the youth of today as they walk around in holey plastic shoes with little fucking charms on them.”
“Fair point,” she says, her mouth curved wide. Damn, she’s got an amazing smile. It’s no wonder it earns her a living.
“You know, when you smile at me, I feel like a hero,” I say, before I can feel embarrassed about it. Her cheeks warm and her eyes take on a sheen.
“You are a hero, Grady.” I lie to myself and think she isn’t talking about my profession. She raises on her toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I’m going to shower before dinner.”
“Okay, it should be ready around six. Dad tends to get hangry past that time.”
“I don’t believe Gray gets angry, at all.”
“That’s only because he’s on his best behavior in front of you.”
“Hmm.” She purses her lips, skeptically. “Can I bring anything? I think I have everything I need to whip up a poppyseed, lemon-curd loaf for dessert.”
“Oh, you just happen to have that laying around, do you?” I tease, not knowing what lemon curd even is.
“Is that weird?”
“No, Lou,” I tell her, pulling her closer with a hand at the back of her neck. “Nothing about you is weird. Bake your concoction. My mother and daughter will fall in love with you for it.”
She blinks wildly, and I kiss her, loving the way she doesn’t hesitate to kiss me back.
Her slender fingers tickle my hip, sending blood places it should currently be ignoring.
In this way, I’m like a teenager, also. The way tiny flutters erupt in my abdomen.
The rush of adrenaline she sends racing through me with the slightest attention.
Tomorrow night can’t come soon enough. The squeak of the door grabs my attention, and I catch Paige peeking around. When my eyes meet hers, she quickly ducks back and closes the door behind her.
“Shit, was that Paige?” Lou asks.
“It was.” I nod. “I’ll talk to her.”
“I’m sorry, Grady, I don’t want to upset her,” Lou says, a tremble at her bottom lip. “If she’s not comfortable, I’ll skip dinner. Just let me know.”
“Hey, Paige adores you,” I tell the woman in front of me who feels everything with an intensity I’ve never seen before. “She’s probably more embarrassed than anything. Go shower and bake, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Lou leaves, and I head back into the house to find my kid. She’s sitting on the sofa, between her grandparents. Only, her back is on the seat, her legs hanging on the back as she watches a princess movie upside down.
“I don’t like this part,” she says. “His face is too big and he’s mean. How does he think he’s going to win the girl if he’s a big bully?”
“When I was your age, they used to tell us girls that if a boy was mean to you, it meant he liked you,” my mom tells her.
“Well, that’s dumb.”
“I agree,” Mom says. “If a boy is mean to you, you stay away from him.”
“You stay away from the ones that are mean to other people, too,” Dad adds. “In fact, just stay away from boys altogether.”
I smile and lean against the wall, taking in the conversation.
“Can I be friends with Bryant? He’s nice to everyone and smiles all the time.”
“Sure, Piglet,” he tells her begrudgingly.
“Thanks, Eeyore,” she says, swaying her head so her hair sweeps the floor.
“Hey, Paige,” I say, making myself known. Her eyes dart up to me. “Wanna talk?”
“About you and Lulu?”
“Yeah,” I say with a nod as she spins around, practically kicking my dad in the head in her maneuver to sit upright.
“I think we need to go over the rules,” she says, fisting her hands at her waist as she tries to take an authoritative tone. “Rule number one.”
“What do I like about her?”
“Yep.” She pops her p.
“I like her empathy. How she cares about other people, even ones she doesn’t know very well. Even when she’s hurting more than them,” I say. “I like that she finds joy when everything seems sad. I love how strong she is, and I love when she laughs.”
“You don’t like how pretty she is?” Paige asks like I’ve lost my mind.
“I like that, too,” I answer. “The other stuff is more important.”
“I guess so,” she says, hissing through the spot her tooth once was. “Rule number two.”
“She makes me feel young again. Like I’m experiencing things for the first time.”
“Things you did a long time ago?”
“Yep,” I say, mimicking her popping sound.
“Like kiiiiiissssssiiiinnnggg,” she singsongs, making my mother laugh lightly.
“Yes, like that,” I say, suppressing my laughter. “Is that okay? You can tell me if it isn’t. You’ll always be the most important gal in my life, after all.”
“Sure. Mom kisses Bobby, sometimes,” she says, shrugging. “And I like Lulu a lot more than I like Bobby.”
Bobby is the new boyfriend. The one who, allegedly, doesn’t want kids. It’s enough for me not to like him very much. Because what the fuck kind of asshole says something like that in earshot of your girlfriend’s daughter?
“Lou really likes you, too.”
“And you really like Lou,” Mom says.
“I do. I really do.”
“You can’t save her, you know,” Dad says later, as we stand over the grill staring at the thermometer, willing it to heat up faster.
“Sure, I can help her to save herself, though.”
“It was your mother who gave you your savior complex.”
“I know,” I agree. “My scowl is all you, though.”
“That’s something, at least,” he says, with an out of the ordinary grin.
Usually, those are reserved for my daughter.
He wasn’t always such a sourpuss. Mom’s diagnosis brought it out of him.
We all felt angry at the world, then; he’s the only one that’s held on to it.
Seeing her so weak and in pain was hard on him.