Fragments of gray, p.23
Fragments of Gray, page 23
As we catch our breath, he brings his mouth to the shell of my ear and whispers, “I’m definitely a fan of this outfit.”
“Me too,” I say, panting.
“Just wait until you find out what your second gift is.”
“I’m getting it now?”
“Nope. Another day, Red.”
With that, he slides off my body, and I slowly start to rise. Turning around to face him, he wears the most satisfied expression when his eyes drift over me. I’m sure my hair is a mess, and my makeup is smudged. And when I glance down, I can see that my chest is flushed, and my hands are still regaining their color.
Giving me a tender peck on my forehead, he pulls away and says, “You’re breathtaking.”
FORTY
Grayson
Emma’s week of freedom has also become mine.
I haven’t fixated on any parasitic memories, haven’t shut down or isolated and haven’t felt the urge to fight. I also haven’t seen my sister aside from running to her condo to pick up my duffel. Not that I particularly minded not seeing her, but Emma thinks it’s a big deal so she invited Rae and Miles to hang out tonight.
“Keep stirring,” Emma instructs as she peeks over my shoulder.
“I’m gonna fuck this up,” I state as I continuously circle the wooden spoon around the pot. The fresh, savory smell of the sauce whipping beneath my nostrils and making my stomach growl.
“It’s impossible, all you have to do is stir so it doesn’t burn.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve ruined much simpler meals.”
She chuckles as she continues to grate the mozzarella cheese. When I suggested pizza, I meant ordering a pie from some place on the boardwalk—not make them from scratch. But Emma thought it would be fun if everyone made their own personal pizzas with the ingredients, so she somehow wrangled me into cooking.
The past few days we’ve spent glued to each other’s side. From hand holding along the beach to fucking her raw into the living room floor, we’ve been inseparable.
She even wants to spend our time together teaching me how to cook, so here I am trying to learn the basics of making a grilled pizza.
“Does Rae like roasted vegetables?”
“I don’t know.”
“What about olives?”
I shrug, focusing on the sauce. A sense of embarrassment crawls over me for not being able to answer simple questions about Rae.
“Some people like to drizzle ranch on top. Do you think she’d like that?”
“You sure you don’t want to have another night with just the two of us? I think that would be a lot more fun than having to spend time with Rae and Miles,” I say, knowing that if I stop talking then I might get stuck in my head, and I don’t want that. I don’t want that ever, but especially during this time with Emma.
There’s a muted sound of her gently placing the knife on the cutting board. “Oh,” she whispers as if things are clicking in her head. Glancing over, her amber eyes look at me softly. “Is this not going to be enjoyable for you? Do you want me to call it off?”
“No. No, it’s fine. It’s just…” I trail off figuring out the best way to describe how I’m feeling. “It’ll be awkward. Rae and I don’t spend time together. We haven’t at all yet this summer even though that’s the reason behind me staying in Golden Bay. My parents want us to rebuild our relationship or some shit. She’s the only sister I have left—” I cut myself off, clearing my throat.
I train my attention back to sauce as it starts to bubble.
A long stretch of silence hangs over the kitchen. I can spot Emma out of the corner of my eye, shifting her weight from foot to foot as if debating how to respond.
“But I’m sure tonight will be fine,” I break the quiet. I need to.
“I know about Cara,” Emma whispers.
I freeze for a split second, hearing her state my sister’s name. My focus jumps back to Emma, and I swallow around the lump that’s forming in my throat. “You do?”
She nods. “Yes.”
“From Rae?”
“Yes,” she repeats, nibbling on her bottom lip with concern.
“Did she tell you how Cara died?” I have high doubts that my sister actually told someone about the event that fucked us up forever.
“A school shooting,” the words are quiet but they land on my ears like a missile.
Emma’s eyes well up, her nose turning rosy as she fights back tears.
Tears for me.
And Rae.
And Cara.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up—I just didn’t want you to think that you had to dance around it or hide your pain from me,” Emma’s voice cracks.
Salt is poured onto my never-healing wound as it reopens for the millionth time. And as my agony simmers, making my eyes sting, I’m also struck with something else. A feeling that is utterly confusing to me at this moment.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I begin.
“I’m sor—”
“But, I’m glad you know.”
Her shoulders drop the same time mine do, and her head tilts to the side. “You are?”
“Yeah,” I state as relief is spread throughout my chest. “I don’t have to eventually tell you. I don’t have to relive anything.”
“Oh. That makes sense.”
“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m not great with expressing myself,” I try to make light.
She gives me a small smile. “I get it. Loss is complex.”
“How do you deal with yours?” I ask, and I’m not sure it’s because I selfishly want to know how to handle all of this. It’s been a decade, and I’m still struggling.
Emma shrugs. “I don’t mind talking about my mom. Of course, no one ever asks about her because no one dares to bring up the dead mom topic—which I understand. But talking about her makes me feel closer to her.”
I lean against the countertop. “Talk to me about her. I’ll jump head first into a dead mom conversation if that’s what makes you feel better.”
Her head falls back in laughter.
“I’m serious! What’s her name?”
“Allison. She was apparently very set on naming me Emma, so at least I know she chose that for me.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know much about her aside from the fact that she was very charitable and liked to donate to causes that were important to her.” There’s a twinkle in Emma’s eye, and I can tell that’s something she’d like to replicate. Even if her mom didn’t do that, I can still see Emma donating as much as she can to others. “Oh, and we have the same hair,” she adds.
I grin, admiring her long, auburn locks. “Do you have any pictures of your mom?”
“Yes! I’ll be right back.” She starts moving out of the kitchen but spins around. “Keep stirring!”
“Oh shit.” Immediately going back to the sauce, I begin stirring, not sure if there should be browning along the edges of the pot. “I told you I’d fuck this up!” I call out to her as she trails away.
Within seconds she’s scurrying back, holding a photo frame in her hand. Her face is lit up, excited that she gets to share this with me. My heart melts a little bit more getting to have this moment with her.
Emma twirls the frame around. “Here she is!”
Carefully taking it in my hands, my chest swells with emotion. “You look just like her.” My gaze takes in the way the red waves of her hair border her face. Then over to a sparkling smile that’s sweet enough to enchant an entire room. And noticing a dusting of freckles over her button nose. “She’s beautiful,” I say as if I’m looking at the future version of Emma.
“She’s perfect.”
I glance up at Emma, who’s admiring her mom with me, her eyes glistening. “I always think about what it would be like if she were still here. How different my story might’ve been.”
Those words twist a knife around in my heart, and I feel a prickle at the corner of my eyes. “Yeah,” I respond, blowing out a puff of air. “I can relate to that.”
One of her arms comes around me, and I do the same to her. I’m not really sure which one of us needs the comfort, but I think we’re both in need of this embrace.
Kissing her hair, I ask, “Do you have any more pictures?”
Emma shakes her head. “My dad doesn’t keep pictures of her around, this is the only one. It sits on a shelf in his office.”
My face drops. “I feel like I need to apologize to her after what went down in that room the other day.”
Emma bursts into laughter, breaking the tender moment. “But not my dad?”
“No, fuck him. But, I might’ve chosen a different spot if I knew her photo was there.”
Still chuckling, she takes the frame from me. “Relax, it’s just a picture. It’s not like I feel her presence when I’m in that office of his.”
“Do you feel it in other places?”
“Of course.”
“You do?”
A tendril of despair weaves its way through my bones. I’ve never felt Cara nearby.
“Not specific places,” Emma continues. “But when certain things happen I get this feeling around me—I can’t explain it, but I know it’s her.”
I blink, staring at her, wishing I could grasp what she’s saying. I understand the grief on some level, but I don’t get this part.
“I should probably put this back.” She changes the subject, gesturing to the frame in her hand. “If anything happens to it, I’m toast.”
I watch her walk away, but before I can process my thoughts I get a whiff of something burning. “Fuck—the sauce!”
Spinning around, I turn the stove off and keep stirring, doing my best to salvage the red paste.
“They’re pulling up!” Emma shouts from the hallway. “Are you sure you’re okay they’re coming?” she asks, dashing into the kitchen. Her cheeks are raised high as she beams, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to take that joy away from her.
“It’s all good, Red.” I wink.
The doorbell chimes, and Emma claps her hands, bouncing on her toes. “I’m so excited!”
Heading out of the kitchen and toward the foyer, I hear them greet each other and spot Emma hugging Rae and Miles. I wouldn’t expect anything less of a welcome from Emma and seeing the way she lights up from being able to have them over makes my insides turn to mush.
“Thanks for inviting us over,” Rae says, her gaze traveling all over Emma’s gigantic home, from the crystal chandelier, over to the large living room and back to the double staircase.
“We brought some sodas.” Miles lifts up a shopping bag. “Not as festive as the drinks you guys had on the boardwalk, but at least it’s something,” he teases.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Emma says, guiding them further inside.
“Hey, Grayson,” Miles says.
“Hey.”
Rae crinkles her nose. “Is something burning?”
“I left the sauce on the stove a little too long, but it’s fine,” I snap.
“You’re cooking?”
“Yep!” Emma interjects. “I’ve been teaching him. We made the sauce together. I figured we could make some pizzas for dinner.” She takes Rae’s hand. “Come on in, let me show you both around!”
After the grand tour and grilling our pizzas, we decided to chill on the beach. Me and Miles dragged out Emma’s old outdoor lounge chairs that were kept in storage under her wraparound porch.
I’m slowly finding myself settling into being around everyone. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s not the worst thing. Plus, Emma is really good at diverting conversation or filling up any awkward silences.
The sun sets before us, the gold beams glowing half in the sky and half in the ocean. Orange, red and pink are blurred into the light blue, and the scenery begins to relax me, creating ease.
“You guys wanna go for a swim?” Emma asks.
“I’m down,” Miles states.
“Yeah, whatever,” Rae responds.
Emma glances over to me, waiting for an answer. “Uh, sure.”
With that, we all hurriedly change into our swimsuits. By the time I walk back outside, Emma and Miles are talking, while Rae eventually trails behind me.
I try not to stare too long at Emma in her white bikini. The way it accentuates her figure causes me to get distracted. I’ve seen her in various states of dress and bare-ass naked, but something about the way the strings wrap around her skin makes me want to unravel them, and her, in an instant.
“All set?” she asks me, tearing my attention away from her body.
“Yep.”
The four of us stand at the shoreline, entranced by the rolling waves and the partially hidden sun beaming across from us.
“On your mark—” Miles starts talking.
“We’re racing?” I ask, my brows drawn in.
“Get set—”
“Guess so,” I mutter.
“Go!”
The four of us take off, running straight into the ocean. There’s a pull at my lips as I begin to smile when the warm water splashes my legs. The girls squeal with excitement as we keep rushing forward.
Wind pushes through my hair, my smile getting wider.
Exhilaration bubbles in my chest as I tear through the ocean.
Glancing over at the three of them, I chuckle watching them having the same burst of enjoyment as I am as they swim into the water.
I’m too caught up in the current of freedom crashing through me to give any attention to the thought of how stupid it is that something so minute can act like a stitch on my wounds.
A large wave moves closer, and I dive straight for it, holding my breath as I become saturated in salt water.
When I’m on the other side, and the wave has crashed into the sand, I pop my head up, shaking my hair out of my face. Emma’s directly in front of me, glimmers of delight sparking all over her freckled face. Her hair is soaked, turning it into a reddish-brown color.
I spot Rae and Miles off to the side, laughing and swimming—and suddenly, I’m struck with an idea.
Reaching out for Emma’s waist, I say, “Hop on my shoulders.”
“What?”
“Get on.”
As I tread water, I lower myself so Emma can climb onto my shoulders. Once her legs are hooked over me, I take hold of them to steady her while also noticing how silky they feel under my fingertips. She plants her hands on my head and lets out a little shriek as I move us toward the other two.
Miles sees us and instantly knows what’s going on. “You think you can beat us in a chicken fight?” he instigates.
“Oh, god.” Rae playfully rolls her eyes but gets on Miles’s shoulders anyway.
“I don’t think I can beat Rae,” Emma says to me as I move us closer.
“You got this.”
“She’s gonna knock me down in like, one second.” She laughs to herself.
“I won’t let her.” I give her legs a little squeeze.
We meet the two of them, all of us wearing similar grins.
Immediately, we’re in a round of chicken where the objective is for Emma to make Rae fall in the water. The two of them link hands, pushing and pulling all the while giggling.
My calves ache from keeping us afloat as Emma sways back and forth. Tightly holding onto her legs, I keep her sturdy.
Water splashes up into Miles’s and my faces as the girls inadvertently kick their feet. Droplets scatter across my lashes, making it difficult to see clearly, but I can make out the laughter coming from all of them.
And that’s when I realize that I’m laughing right along with them.
I can’t stop.
My cheeks hurt from smiling even though endless amounts of salt water sprays into my mouth and eyes, and I’m struggling to balance Emma.
An abrupt screech comes from my sister. Glancing upward, I watch her tumble into the ocean.
“I’m so sorry, Rae!” Emma shouts through her giggles.
“We won!” I shout, and Emma kisses the top of my head.
Rae bobs up, spitting out a mouthful of water. “Best two out of three.”
“Let’s fucking go!” Miles amps us up, hoisting Rae back on his shoulders.
After several high-stakes games of chicken fight, we called it a draw.
The night is finally winding down with the four of us enjoying a bonfire on the beach. We dug a hole in the sand, found a massive amount of driftwood, and used Rae’s lighter to start a small flame.
“Do you have stuff to make s’mores?” Miles asks Emma.
“Hmm. I’m not sure.”
“I want to get a drink anyway, I’ll check when I’m inside.” I rise, dusting off my shorts.
“I’ll come with you.” Emma jumps to her feet.
Together we walk inside, but I can tell there’s something off, judging by the way she’s playing with her fingernails and bouncing with nervous energy in her steps.
“Everything alright?” I ask when we get into the kitchen. I grab myself a soda then start scouring her pantry for the ingredients to make s’mores.
“There are no marshmallows!” she blurts out.
Her eyes are wide as if she’d just been caught in a sticky lie and is about to get in trouble. Suddenly, Miles appears with his car keys in his hands.
My eyes narrow as I assess both of them. “What’s going on?”
“Miles and I thought this could be a nice environment for you and Rae to talk and maybe, I don’t know…” Emma fidgets while she speaks. “Maybe start to repair things.”
My attention shoots over to Miles for confirmation.
“She thought of the idea. I thought of the execution.” He put his hand on his stomach. “I could really go for some s’mores.”
I shake my head. “It’s been a nice change of pace getting to relax and hang out today—but no. I’m not talking to her about any of the heavy shit.”
“You don’t have to,” Emma explains. She glances over her shoulder at Miles, then back to me. Taking a few steps closer to me, she whispers, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I just wanted to give you an opportunity to make a nice memory alone with your sister.”
