Page 19 of Speechless

They all tell me more about how they got together. Apparently, Craig was in the marching band at Ohio State for a year before transferring to Juilliard. This definitely helps me warm up to him and it’s hard not to discuss Script Ohio for the rest of dinner. Buckeye pride runs strong when you’re born in the state, even if you never went to school there. He promises to play their anthem,Hang on Sloopy, for me one day soon.

But my favorite story is Preston’s. He grew up in Chicago and was really into jazz—it sounds like a lot of influence from his parents and older siblings. He says he was the awkward kid in school, a self-proclaimed math geek, but was madly in love with a very popular girl. He wasn’t sure she even knew he existed. It’s hard not to audibly “awww” at him. He decided if he could become an expert musician, she’d notice him so he chose to master the saxophone. He made it all the way to Juilliard so I guess he succeeded. I ask if he ever got the girl and I see his eyes glitter conspiratorially.

“What do you think?” He says it right as he slips his arm around the woman who’s been quietly taking in our conversation since she sat down for dinner. Adamma came in right as we started eating, so I haven’t had much of a chance to talk to her yet. She tells me her and Preston got together right after high school, but she moved out to LA for college, knowing she wanted to work in the movie business. They got back together as soon as he came out here and say they owe it all to Henry.

They’re quite the odd couple if I’m being honest. Preston can’t be over five foot eight and it’s not just his stature that’s small. He exudesold soulin every way, even down to his attempt at a James Dean style: slicked-back hair, white T-shirt, jeans and a leather jacket even though it’s eighty degrees outside.

Adamma is basically a goddess. She’s tall, perfectly toned, has an impeccable sense of style—modernstyle. She showed up tonight looking absolutely effortless in a white jumpsuit that would surely make me look like a mini marshmallow. Her ebony skin is undeniably flawless, and her tightly coiled Afro somehow looks like she spent hours at the salon but is also perfectly natural. I learn even her name means beautiful girl—like her parents just knew from the beginning.

They’re so different, but it's easy to tell how in love they are. I adore their story; it sounds so much like a modern-day fairy tale that I’m tempted to write it.

If I wanted to write another love story, that is.

And I can’t miss the fact that they both keep mentioning Henry’s part in bringing them back together.

Henry. These guys make him seem like some sort of deity. Maybe he’s just incredibly charitable? He offered to help me in a time of need just like all of HAAAM. Part of me wishes his motives were different, but I’m not sure why.

Adamma looks toward me. Her deep brown eyes have a golden glow as warm as melted honey.

“Lucy, what is it you do?”

“Oh, Lucy here writes fairy tales. Fancies herself a princess, I think.”

“Graham, I don’t write fairy tales. I write novels that areinspiredby fairy tales.” I turn back toward Adamma. “My last one was a modern take onSleeping Beauty.”

“That sounds so cool! What’s it about?”

“Well, it’slooselybased on the original. It’s about an evil doctor who poisons young women and they all fall into a coma, a seemingly incurable coma. But one of them has a boyfriend determined to find the cure and, well, you know, save the kingdom.” I throw up my hands in a gesture that means absolutely nothing but for some reason helps me articulate my point.

“Wild. I’ll have to read it. What’s it called?”

“Sleeping Darlings. I’ll give you a copy though, if you actually want to read it. You really shouldn’t feel obligated.”

“No, I absolutely want to! Is it steamy?”

“Umm, no. It’s Young Adult, so definitely romantic but nothing explicit.”

“That’s a shame.” She winks at me even though her disappointment is more than apparent. “Are you working on anything now?”

“Yeah, just started though. Not sure exactly what it is yet. What about you, Adamma? I know you said you came out here to work in the movie industry, but what do you do? Are you an actress?”

“God, no. I’m a production designer. I’ve done everything from costume to set design and finally am starting to work on the big picture stuff. My goal has always been to be a producer, but this industry is fucking brutal.”

Preston beams. “She’s amazing. Just wait a few years and her name’s gonna be on everything.” It’s so sweet how supportive he is. Jack never wanted to discuss anything related to my books. I even heard him refer to them as “teenage fairy porn” to his friends once.

Jayce stands up and clears his throat like he’s ready to give a speech.

“I’d like to make a toast.” Oh, heismaking a speech. “To Lucy, our newest housemate, may she never leave. For I’m afraid we’ll starve. Also, she makes a damn good margarita! Lucy, we’re so glad you’re here. Thank you for finally getting us to use this patio. But please, try to keep your clothes on. It’s not that kind of house.” He winks at me before throwing a quick glance at Graham.

I turn to look at him, and I’m sure there’s steam coming out of my ears right now as I give him a glare that promises vengeance. I can’t believe he already told all of them—this is so embarrassing. But they’re all cracking up, and I feel like I’ve somehow already been welcomed into this family, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the massive grin from spreading across my face.

9

Lucy

He’s. . . here.

Two days after the bikini incident, HAAAM and I are about to take Rowan for a walk along the beach. We just polished off my blue crab enchiladas for dinner and everyone could use a walk after that much cheese. But when I return to the kitchen after grabbing Row’s leash, I’m met with utter silence and skittish expressions.

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