She felt her cheeks grow hot. How come lies just popped out of her mouth like little soap bubbles? She couldn’t help it. No wonder no one liked her.
Daddy touched her cheek. “You know, Grace, when I was a kid, I thought I had to do everything right. Go to the right school, get the right grades, follow the rules. I wanted to make my mom … and my sister … proud of me.” He looked away. For a long time, he was quiet, and the silence made her heart hurt. Had she said the wrong thing again? Finally he cleared his throat and said, “The point is: I’m proud of you just the way you are. I love you no matter what, Gracie. You can take that to the bank.”
She didn’t know what he meant. She hated the bank, except for the strawberry candies they gave out, and she knew the rest of it wasn’t true. Once, she’d heard Daddy tell Papa that Grace was having trouble in school. Behavioral problems and no friends were the words she’d heard through the door. Her daddy had said a really bad word and asked Papa when they all just got to be happy again.
He wanted her to have friends. It was important to him. “I’m pop’lar, Daddy. I can’t hardly finish my lunch cuz everyone is talking to me so much.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Okay, Princess,” he said with a sigh. “Okay. Now let’s have something to eat before I pass out.”
“I made the meatloaf,” Grace said, smiling proudly at him. Her dad’s smile was sad, and that scared her so much she added, “And the ’tatoes.”
He kissed her again and got up. “Come on, Gracie, let’s eat.”
She hurried along behind him, trying to keep up.
*
Once again, Jude had awakened too early. There was no light bleeding through the louvered blinds in her bedroom, but she could feel dawn gathering on the horizon like an army before a charge.
Beside her, she felt Miles move in his sleep; he turned toward her, took her in his arms, his breath a warm caress against the back of her neck.
She rolled over and snuggled close to him, slid her bare leg between his. His eyes opened slowly, lazily, and he smiled.
He leaned closer, kissed her lightly at first, then more passionately. His hands slid down her silky nightgown and found the lacy hem, then bunched it, dragged it up, up, until she was naked. He took off his boxer shorts and threw them aside.
She followed the lead of his desire, touched him the way he liked, arching into his hand until she had to have him inside of her. When she came, it was an explosion of feeling from somewhere deep inside of her. She cried out so loudly it embarrassed her, and when she collapsed beside him, she was trembling.
They never spoke about this new passion of theirs; she knew that he, like she, was afraid that words would jinx it. For so many years after their loss, sex had simply been gone, like smiles and laughter. Its return had surprised both of them. Somehow, they’d learned to connect by touch, to communicate their love almost solely without words. It wasn’t the A answer, wasn’t enough for Miles, whom she still caught looking at her with infinite sadness most of the time, but it was what they had now, and she knew how lucky they were to have it.
She kissed him lightly and drew back. Reaching down for her nightgown, she slipped it back on and got out of bed. At the windows, she stopped and twisted the shades’ rod, letting the light stream in. To her left was the garden she’d given up on. It was a riotous mess of flowers and branches and leaves, without order or care. Ugly.
Miles came up beside her, kissed her shoulder. “We’re still watching Grace today?”
Jude nodded. “Zach has a finals study group this morning. He seems stressed out.”