Page 75 of Peaches

I don’t want this to end, a thought I first accepted standing there watching Grams bake a peach pie last night before tasting Grace’speachin our own private kitchen. Arrangement be damned. It’s a thought I’ve fully concluded is what I want. No doubts. Only thing is, how do I tell her that and not blow it at the same time, especially when it comes to exposing that damn contract.

Putting one foot in front of the other, I follow Grace like I know I always will in life, and pray and hope for everything between us to turn out all right in the end. After all, when all is said and done, I ain’t too proud to beg.

•Quotes in italicsare taken from several DC Comics and are not the work of the author. Those comics include: Justice League; Batman vs. Superman: Dawn of justice; Batman: The Dark Knight; and Lex Luther in Supergirl.

19

Brett

Laughter floats through the house,contagious as all hell as I find myself smiling and then chuckling along. I swear, in this moment, I’ve never felt more free, more love, more settled than before my mother passed.

Grace’s eyes catch mine from across the table and I can’t help but stare as her face looks so damn beautiful. I watch her giggle some more at an old story her mother just told. Some small glimpse into her childhood that I know I’ll always treasure. I hold her stare and her face blushes when I don’t look away. The air is thick between us, and her mother and brother are oblivious as they go about taking another bite of food.

Something in her eyes change as feelings I can’t hide bubble up to the surface in my own. I can tell the moment it does as I quickly drown in them. Her laughter stops. Her smile fades. Her breathing quickens as we’re pulled under by the inevitable truth we’ve both, up until now, refused to accept.

That we’ve become so much more than just some stupid arrangement.

Her gaze falls to her lap before she picks up her fork and starts to push around her dessert on the plate in front of her. I worry, fearful that she’s doubting what we have.

Don’t do that to me, Peaches.

We’re so damn good together.

But just as I’m about to swear the connection between us in this moment passes, her damn foot finds mine under the table and rises up the side of my calf. My lovestruck grin returns as I quickly pick up my other foot and pin hers between my legs, causing my little peach to smile to herself as she still refrains from looking up and meeting my eye.

Caging her in between my legs, I’m rooted, grounded to something I don’t ever want to give up, and silently promise myself to try and make this work, try and make her understand, even after I have to tell her about the damn contract.

“Tell me, Brett,” Trudy says, breaking me from my trance as I glance her way down at the end of the table. She’s helping cut up Archie’s pie in pieces as he glances around the room and rocks back and forth. His head shakes no, but Trudy leans in and comforts him by something she says that is just out of my ear shot, and then hands him his fork and pats his hand encouraging him to take a bite, which eventually he does. I uncage my peach, but not her sweetness, and give some of my attention to Trudy.

“What are your parents like?”

The question stings, but oddly not as much as it did a month ago before I met the woman sitting across from me. I look her way and see her go to speak, to explain for me so I don’t have to, but I cut her off with a shake of my head that matches her brothers and give her a reassuring smile.

I can do this.

I can talk about it now. An odd development that both shocks and soothes me as my mind conjures up the idea that the only reason why it doesn’t hurt like it always has is because of her.

My sweetness in life.

“My mother is no longer with us, it’s just my father and my grandmother,” I reply, never taking my eyes off Grace and surprisingly feeling the hurt slowly fade the longer she stares back at me.

“I’m so sorry,” Trudy quickly replies as I look back her way, a ghostly expression of embarrassment gracing her features.

I close my eyes and shake my head, feeling strangely OK for the first time in all my life to talk about it.

“My grandfather’s work was in publishing,” I say, glancing Grace’s way and seeing her light up. There is no mistaking her admiration for Pops, something I saw in her the first day we met and someone I know her and Marie talk about often, so I’m told. Hell, I’d admired the hell out of the guy myself, can’t say I blame her. “My grandmother was his support, his rock, as he built his empire. My father was called to do the same…”

“As were you?” She questions, knowing what line of work I am obviously in.

“That’s right,” I smile, “But I broke the mold and started my own company. Didn’t take the one handed to me by my family. Something my father still doesn’t approve of.”

“But that’s commendable,” she says, helping wipe some crumbs off Archie’s face as he shovels more dessert in his mouth. “Everyone wants to make their own way in life. Or at least they should. That’s normal. We all do it, in one form or another. Your grandfather did as well, starting the company your father owns now.”

“I wish my old man was as understanding as you,” I laugh. “Good thing is my grandmother sees things your way. My Pops did, too. Mostly. Before he passed.”

I leave out the part that threatens to crush me, the contract I signed, a little something that proves that as much as Grams and Pops agreed for me to spread my own wings, they wanted to make sure they were tied down and secured enough to a life they approved of.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how did you mother die?”

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