Authors: H.M. Ward
I
move to stride away
, but long, strong fingers wrap around my wrist and pull me back.
"Relax, Kienna. I'm not breaking anybody's heart, but you really should meet Lori." Gently, he lifts my chin with his fingers until my eyes meet his, searching my eyes. I smash my lips together into a tight line. "Trust me, Lori won't be jealous, and I want you to meet her. Please?" He sticks his bottom lip out in an adorable pout, unfazed by my frustration. I don't know how he does it, but he chips away at my walls and breaks through my rage.
"Okay, FINE! You win, but if she goes batshit on me, I'm suing your nerdy ass. Comic books, collectible figurines, director's cut movies and all."
We walk silently through the park. Graham leads me to a bench near one of the paved paths on the South end, and sits, his arm draped across the backrest. He radiates calm as if he doesn't have a care in the world.
"She should be here any minute." Graham checks his watch and glances at all the entrances, making sure he hasn't missed her.
I'm fidgeting, sitting on the edge of my seat, as far away from him as possible, knees bouncing up and down, biting my nails. I don't want this to look bad when Lori gets here. My reputation alone should be enough for her to claw my eyes out. I won't cuddle up to her man in the middle of a public park, giving her every reason to hate me on sight. The leaves around us have changed color, but haven't fallen to the ground yet, creating a wonderful multicolored canopy above our heads. It's snuggly sweater weather at its best.
"You're nervous, aren't you?" Graham wears an irresistible teasing look and places his other hand on my knees to stop them from bouncing so much. My legs twitch, shirking spastically away from his touch.
"You need to stop putting your hands on me. Lori could show up at any moment and freak the hell out like she did on the phone."
Graham dismisses my comment and gives my shoulders a quick squeeze, causing me to cringe. I squirm, twisting until he finally removes his hands from my shoulders. His eyes look past me, and his face lights up with excited anticipation.
"She's here." He leaps from his seat, surprising me, and I want to upchuck my lunch in the bushes.
Two women walk toward us, both of them waving at Graham. The first is an attractive blond with soft features and a clean-cut, preppy look in her navy wool coat and classic knee-high boots. The second woman, an equally good-looking brunette, has an edgier look with her black biker jacket, combat boots, and multiple facial piercings. I wonder which one of the two is Lori. I'm betting on the blond.
Suddenly, a little girl shoves between the two women, her face lit by a megawatt, ear-to-ear smile. She starts to run, her backpack bouncing up and down with every step. Graham squats down baseball catcher style, and she launches herself into his arms. He stands up tall and flips her upside down, holding her ankles above her tiny, bubblegum pink chucks.
"Look what I found! Crab Legs!" He laughs, pretending to eat her skinny legs.
The little girl, who looks to be eight or nine years old, squeals with delight. "Let go! Let go! You suck big fat monkeys, dude! Aaaaaah!" She squirms and squeals, trying to break free, but his grip is firm. It looks like he's shaking loose change from her pockets.
I'm stunned. Graham is already adorable in the best kind of way, but seeing him roughhousing with this little girl causes my hormones to go into hyperdrive. I think I may have sprained an ovary.
The two other women whisper to each other, laughing as they continue to approach us. This is it. I push myself off the bench, putting my best plastic smile on, and attempting to look as amiable as possible. The two women reach us, and I stand awkwardly behind everyone, waiting for my introduction.
"Hello, Graham!" The blond tilts her head to the side and greets Graham with fondness in her voice. She places a hand on his arm.
"Hi, L... Hey! OW! Did you just bite me, Crab Cake?" Graham looks down at the little girl, who has a wicked smirk on her face, made all the more mischievous by the gap in the top row left by a recently fallen tooth. The resemblance between them is remarkable, right down to the thick, dark, wavy hair, and blue eyes.
The blond shakes her head and continues, "Graham, this is Trish. She's new to our team, and will be working with this little squirt's group."
Well, that rules out the brunette. So the preppy blond with the bright blue eyes and soft, shy smile is THE Lori. Her hand is still resting on Graham's arm. He nods in the brunette's direction. "Nice to meet you Trish, and I hope Crab Face, here, isn't giving you too much trouble. Hey! Watch the family jewels there, Crabapple!" He scoots his hips backward, bending at the waist to keep his stones away from the little girl's swinging fists. This sudden defense prompts the blond to let go of his arm. She notices me standing behind their group, and looks at me quizzically, assessing me. Here we go. I shoot her what I hope is a friendly smile, but our attention diverts back to the little girl who's still putting up a struggle.
"I'm not a crab, you crusty barnacle, now let me go!" Her face is growing beet red from hanging upside down, and she's laughing uncontrollably. The whole scene is so real. It's beautiful and painful and out of my reach. All the riches in the world can't buy that kind of happiness.
The blond disrupts my epiphany by saying, "I have to get back to the playground before anyone goes missing. I'll see you tomorrow, Graham." She bends at the waist, tilting her head to the side until she's almost upside down, facing the little girl. "And I'll definitely see you tomorrow after school, Lori."
The little girl stops fussing for the short time it takes to wave back to the blond and says, "Bye, Lilah! Bye, Trish!"
Graham puts the little girl back down on her feet and places his hands on her shoulders. The two women turn back toward the playground, where a large group of kids swing and climb giant rocks.
Shock doesn't even come close to what's going on inside of me. What the hell just happened? I need to process this. I back up until the backs of my legs hit the bench and let myself plop down. The infamous Lori, the person who owns Graham's heart, the woman I thought was his girlfriend, is a little girl?
With the physical resemblance, there's no way he can deny it. Plus, with the way he talks about her, the way his eyes light up every time she calls—of course, he'd wear a look of total devotion. No wonder he laughed his ass off at me when I suggested his girlfriend would be jealous of me.
Lori is not Graham's girlfriend. She's his daughter.
Graham is a father.
"Holy shit!"
"
S
hit is a bad word
. Will Kia have to wash her mouth out with soap, too?" Lori tilts her head to the side, studying me curiously, while I stare, wide-eyed, mumbling to myself. Graham stands behind her cocking his head at an identical angle. They look so much alike it's unreal.
"Hmm. Not a bad idea. She's been using lots of curse words today. What do you think, Kia?" Graham looks down at Lori at the same time as she looks back up to him and they exchange playful smiles. Their chemistry is uncanny. They are perfectly synced with each other, knowing what the other one is thinking.
He ushers her toward me. "Kienna Delacroix, I'd like you to meet Lorianne Parker. Lori, this is Kia."
I extend a hand toward her, and she accepts it without hesitation. "It's nice to meet you, Lori." Her hand is tiny, yet her grip is powerful and determined. How can someone so little exude so much self-confidence? Her smile is infectious and with that missing tooth at the top, it's taking all the willpower I have not to pinch her little cheeks.
Lori releases an exasperated sigh and belts out, "FINALLY! Cracker's been un-be-lievable! All week it's been Kienna this, Kienna that, Kia, Kia, Kia, ALL. THE. TIME! I was starting to think HE was the one with the imaginary friend."
Graham rolls his eyes as she talks. "It wasn't QUITE that bad."
Lori's eyebrows furrow and her mouth scrunches to the side, her body perking up in the way I've seen Graham do in one of his eureka moments. "He's right, you're beautiful. You look like an attractive android or a vampire princess. Although, you also look a little wet—have you been swimming?"
"I’m what?" My eyes cut to Graham. "I thought you dried all the water off. No wonder those other women were looking at me funny."
Graham opens his mouth to answer, but Lori is quicker. "Lilah was looking at you funny because Cracker never dates—and she wants to date him so bad. They all do. It's so gross! They're all, 'Graham is so cute,' and, 'Graham is so smart.' They go on and on. All they really want is to have smoochy-smoochy time with Cracker. Blech!" She stuffs her finger down her throat.
I am so taking this kid home with me.
Graham takes a seat next to me on the park bench and whispers, "Don't believe a word she says. It's highly exaggerated. They're not after me for my intelligence." His reply catches me by surprise, and I clasp my hands in front of my mouth to keep from barking out an embarrassing laugh.
A small pair of hands wrap around my wrists, pulling my hands from my face. "These gloves are badass! Can I try them on? My friend Brittany has gloves like these, but hers are pleather and don't have chains around the wrists like yours. These are way cooler. Can I try them on? Can I?" She's like a dizzying whirlwind of constant chatter, hardly breathing between sentences.
I look down to my hands, at my black, fingerless leather gloves and pull them off. "Of course!"
"Cool! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Hey! Do I look like a Ninja?"
As soon as the gloves are on Lori's tiny hands, she starts to mimic battle moves against an invisible attacker, punching and kicking the air and forcing her imaginary adversary into a headlock. "Take that! And that! Ha! These are swicked! Look at me, Cracker!"
"I see you. Looking good, there, Crab Face." He rests his elbows on his knees, watching with pride as Lori rids the world of one imaginary villain after another, her backpack bouncing sassily with each feigned blow.
"Um, why does she keep calling you Cracker?"
"Well, cookies are an essential part of a toddler's life. She's called me Cracker for the last six years—since she first made the connection between my name and the cookie. I get weird looks, but other people's opinions are the least of my worries. She likes the nickname, so I like it, too."
"Graham Cracker, gotcha. In that light, it's sweet. So, Cracker, this is a surprise. Lori... totally not your girlfriend, huh?" I shoulder bump him.
"Nope." He shoulder bumps me back. His eyes remain on his daughter, but his crooked, mocking grin is for me.
"Fucker."
"Excuse me?" He sits up straight and turns to look at me, confused.
"You made me believe she was your girlfriend, and then laughed at me!"
"I did no such thing. Okay, yes I laughed, but it wasn't at you, it was at the situation. You assumed she was my girlfriend—which is ludicrous. Until your little freak-out, it never occurred to me you'd think she was an adult. I mean, obviously!" He gestures to Lori, who's still giving the fictitious bad guys a rough time.
I grin. "So, you've been talking to her about me, huh?"
Graham rubs his jaw with his hand and shrugs before looking back toward Lori. "Yeah, well, she tells me about her friends, and I tell her about mine."
"You told her I'm beautiful?" I anxiously wait for his answer.
"I already told you that you are." He turns his head toward me just enough to see me out of the corner of his eyes. “Even if you do think I’m the type of guy who’d cheat on my girlfriend with you.”
"In my defense, it wasn't hard to make the wrong assumption. You sounded like a man in love when you talked to her. I was starting to think the only decent guy on this planet was completely stuck on this Lori chick." I look up and notice the dark shadow of end-of-day stubble across his jaw and cheeks.
He catches me staring and tightens his hold on me. "Well, you're right. I do love her. She's the only family I've got." His smile fades, and he lets out a shallow sigh. Up until today, Graham has been nothing but smiles, but I see something in him, something that he hides behind quirky remarks and his mischievous grin. We continue watching silently as Lori goes from impersonating one character to the next. He looks at her with such awe. She's clearly the center of his universe.
There are so many questions I want to ask. Now I know why his adolescence was taken from him. He couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen when he became a dad. His fingers absently twirl strands of my hair. He's lost in deep thought.
"Graham?"
He hums in response.
"Where's Lori's mother?"
He shifts on the bench and leans away from me, pulling his arm back. He rests his elbows back on his knees and stares at the ground, his voice hardening. "Are you going to tell me what you feel so guilty about?" He glances anywhere but at me. The silence is painful. "I didn't think so."
"I'm sorry, Graham. I shouldn't have asked. We're not there yet."
He lets out a huff of air and runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be a dick. You just hit a nerve. It's something I don't talk about in the same way there are things you don't talk about. It's okay to keep some things hidden. Maybe someday we'll feel ready to share our skeletons—I hope we can get there—but not now, not today. It is too soon."
I rub a soothing hand over the fabric covering Graham's back, feeling his tense muscles loosen. My voice is soft, hoping to diffuse the unease that my curiosity created. "You're right Graham, and I'm sorry I pried. I hope we get there, too. I'd love to have a friend to confide in once in a while."
He lifts his head to the side, watching me from the corner of his eyes. He straightens his posture and extends an arm. "Come here."
I scoot closer to him and lean into his warm embrace. His voice becomes a comforting rumble with my cheek resting against his chest. "What about all those women I saw you with the other night? They're not your friends?" His fingers comb through my long hair. Combined with the crisp fall breeze, I could easily fall asleep like this for a long, lazy afternoon nap.
"Not really. They're more like lifelong acquaintances. My only genuine friend passed away a few months ago and, if you don't mind, I don't want to talk about that either." My fingers play with one of the metallic buttons on his jacket.
I want to tell him everything, but I know what'll happen when he learns my ugly secret. Once he knows the truth, he'll run away, disgusted, and never look my way again.