“Here,” I hold it out to Jasper. “I don’t know if she’s out front right now or not, but she was when the food got here.”
Jasper takes the phone and, seemingly unable to help herself, and Gracie peeks over his shoulder to see what it’s about.
“Is that Adrianna?” she asks.
“It is.” I nod and rub my forehead. “You know, communication is key in all relationships. Especially these types, where there are more than two people. This way, we can all be on the same page. We aren’t exactly an open relationship. We’re exclusive in who, well, joins. We talk with each other, discuss it, and see if the person is a suitable match for the entire group. We all have to be happy with them joining. If one isn’t, they don’t join. What Adrianna is doing is basically cheating.”
Gracie shakes her head, frowning as she looks back at the photos. “That’s really messed up.”
“It is. It’s also why you need to be open with the guys you get in a relationship with. They have to understand that your heart doesn’t belong to just one of them,” Jasper tells her and sets the phone down on the bar. “We’ll talk to Adrianna later.”
There’s a moment of silence as we fall back to eating. Both Jasper and I simply pick at our food, taking small bites. We’re both thinking about the same thing; how to proceed with Adrianna. This isn’t the first time she’s cheated on us, and if we let her stick around, I doubt it’ll be the last.
“All right. So, Gracie,” Jasper pipes up after sipping from his Coke. “We’ll finish eating, then go into the living room to talk. You can tell us about your guys, and we can go from there. You can stay the night since you chose both options.” He winks at her, inciting another giggle to escape Gracie’s lips.
I can’t help but watch her. Gracie seems far more relaxed tonight than when we’re at AA meetings. There, she’s usually full of tears and looking stressed out. Now, she’s completely relaxed. I want to believe it is due to the scenery change and maybe even the topic. I’m going to try to avoid discussing AA to make her as at ease as possible.
As we all finally finish and get up, taking our drinks with us, I linger behind Gracie and Jasper. They’re talking in low voices, laughing and giggling, and it brings more joy to my heart than I can remember having in a long time.
In the living room, the two sit on the floor in front of the couch, but I take the cushions myself. Glancing up, Gracie waves at me and adjusts her spot to lean against my legs, and I drag my fingers through her hair.
Chapter38
Devon
Isit a plate of lasagna and cottage cheese down in front of my father’s spot and my own at the table before taking my place. A pitcher of sweet tea sits in the middle of the table, and I take it, pouring it into my glass. The table seats six and used to have four chairs filled every night for a while. It dwindled to three, then two every other week when I visited. With Kate, it was back to three, but I’m on my own again.
The vast space of the house is evident like it usually is when it’s just my father and me – a pressing reminder of the voices that used to fill the halls, now only jumbled up memories inside one’s mind.
I was three when my older brother passed. His voice has always been garbled in my mind besides the few home videos my parents had taken of him, which are now packed in the attic. After my mom passed nine years ago, dad just couldn’t face many reminders of the half part of our family yanked away. There’s one shrine on the living room mantle with a picture of mom and Landon, and that’s it. Well, okay, so the interior design and furniture are exactly what mom picked out.That’sit. I think the design is just because my father can’t get himself to redo it because doing so would mean officially letting go of the love of his life.
They’d been married thirty-two years. It’s no surprise that he can’t let go. If I were to lose the love of my life after so long of a marriage, of creating an entire life, I wouldn’t want to let go either.
“So, where’s Kate tonight?” Dad asks as he pours his tea.
I cut a slice of my lasagna, spearing it. I hesitate, trying to figure out exactly how to tell him. My dad likes Kate. I know she has never been his absolute favorite, but he at least likes her. I decide to just spit it out. Better get it out before I can make it any worse by withholding.
“We broke up,” I try to say as nonchalantly as possible, but I’m ready for him to chastise me.
“So, you’re getting back with Gracie?” he asks hopefully.
I’m taken by surprise. “What?”
He blinks, his wrinkled face twisting as he smiles wanly at me. “Look, Kate’s a good girl, and I have no doubt you’d have a good life with her. But you wouldn’t be happy, and you most definitely have never been in love with her.”
I stare at him, pressing my lips together. “I love her.”
He shrugs with a shake of his head and scoops up some cottage cheese, taking the bite. “There’s a difference between loving and being in love.” He sits back and looks at me. “Right before I met your mother, I was dating this girl named Margaret. I loved her. I was as happy as I could be. I met your mother while dating this girl and fell in love. I was more than happy. I wanted to be with her, your mother. That’s all I could imagine, could see for my life. I was… on cloud nine, I guess you could say. Loving is just liking someone enough to know that you could make a decent life with. Being in love means knowing that no matter what flaws life throws at you, you’ll do anything to make it work with them.”
I’m not entirely too surprised that my father is encouraging me to get back with Gracie. Well, okay, so I am a little bit. But that’s only because they'd been skeptical of her when I’d first introduced him and mom to her. I couldn’t blame them. It was before Gracie was deep in drugs and was still a true version of herself, but she was a little scary. That part of her just made me fall for her even harder because she wasn’t afraid to be herself. It meant she was clad in black from head to toe and demanding. At least she knew what she wanted, who she was. Because of that, my parents came around to liking, and eventually loving her.
They were as sad as I had been when she slipped away and lost her entire being to drugs. But my mom used to say to hold tight, not to let go. That she’d come back if she knew someone was holding on to let her back in. If she had no one, she was lost. My mom had faith that Gracie would come back to us on the day of her last breath. It saddened me she wasn’t alive to see that she had been right. But I’m sure wherever she is watching down on us from, she does see it.
“I have something for you,” my dad tells me, drawing me from my rumbling thoughts.
I look up from my food, which I’d been scrutinizing intently, and watch the old man get up. He uses a cane these days, and his footsteps shuffle along at a snail’s pace. It worries me, especially in this big old house.
My dad leaves the dining room for a moment, and when he returns, he’s holding a red velvet box in his hand, and I swear my heart drops. That can’t be what I think it is.