Page 7 of Enough
I see the instant relief in the shift of her expression, but then she scowls.
“This ishisbaby too. If he can happily put it in there, he’sjust as responsible for making sure it comes out healthy and cared for.”
I genuinely smile for the first time in days. I am in awe and appreciative of her unwavering love and support. “Thank you,” I say earnestly.
She twists her watch on her wrist as her eyes lift to mine. “For what?”
“For being you. I don’t know why I was so worried about telling you I made a mistake. You always make me feel better about everything.”
She smiles at me and reaches across the table for my hand. “We Londons stick together. No matter what! I love you, songbird. There are no such things as mistakes. God put that little angel inside you for a reason, and I’m going to love that blessing for the rest of my life, just like I love you.”
I feel a tear spill over my lashes and actually start to believe things might be okay.
“You look exhausted. Let’s get you to bed. Tomorrow’s a bright and better place to be.”
She pulls on my hand and leads me down the hall to my room. The familiar smell of lavender invades my senses, and I’m suddenly more relaxed than I’ve felt in days. She pulls back my covers and I slide into bed. My pillow feels like a long-lost friend who soothes and comforts me. She tucks me in and kisses my head as I close my eyes. I feel like a child again until I realize I’m a child having a child.
Grandma Kay softly treads toward the door. I open my eyes in time to see a look of determination I haven’t seen since the last time she weeded the garden. I fall asleep considering what she might have been thinking.
I FINISH MY eggs as I hear Grandma Kay’s stomping feet on the stairs from the basement. The sun is shining through the sheer yellow curtains in her kitchen. The warmth of the sun, combined with the yellow curtains, makes everything seem bright and renewed. It is a new day, after all, and I’m filled with hope and resolution.
I swivel on my seat as she opens the door from the basement stairs. She’s holding a can of paint and two brushes. I smile because I know what it means, and it’s exactly what I need. I need to forget all about Mike, just like I tried to forget all about Nick.
As I say his name in my head, I see his smile in my memory and my heart flutters. I haven’t really thought about Nick much over the last few years, but somehow being home and feeling scared is bringing my thoughts of him back to the surface.
That first night we met, we clicked immediately and talked for hours. He’d caught me staring at his lips as he spoke, so he’d stopped talking and given me that crooked grin until my eyes met his once again. Every word, every syllable, and every breath he made created the most beautiful symphony I’d ever heard. We had a connection I couldn’t explain. Our first kiss on the steps of my parents’ house sealed my fate. I fell hard for him, and he fell for me too. I knew it not just because he told me, but also because I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at me.
There was something in the way he smiled when he saw me. I truly believed that smile belonged to me, alone. We spentevery possible hour together whenever he would come to town every month or two and dated for over a year. We shared everything from past relationships to career goals and deepest fears. I had no experience, and he was patient and loving in teaching me everything from kissing to oral sex. He told me he loved me and would wait for me to be ready to make love, but I could see his frustration at my reluctance.
He was my everything. At least, until I wasn’t enough for him. Until the idea of sex became the focal point of our relationship. Every time we were together I wanted him to prove he loved me and he wanted me to show him. He’d already had sex, and I knew he wanted to have it with me, but I was only seventeen and I just wasn’t ready.
I could hear girls in the background when I’d call. He said they were there for his roommates, but I started to wonder if he was cheating on me. I thought he couldn’t wait for me. One day when he was in town, we were messing around and I let him put it in for a second. It hurt and I instantly wanted it to end. I told him to stop, so he did. He said he understood and would always wait for me. Three months later, after an awkward Christmas full of his desire for more, I called him and set him free. I felt more like a conquest rather than someone he really loved. I was so afraid of getting pregnant…If he could see me now.I close my eyes and shake my head at myself.
I’m brought out of my thoughts when Grandma Kay speaks.
“Ready to get to fixin’ that heart?”
I nod as I wipe my mouth with my napkin, stand, and place my plate in the sink. “I’m ready to forget.”
We get to work on the door, and as my brush swipes the fresh coat of red on the edge, I feel a sudden sadness. I loveMike. I really love him. How could I have been so wrong about the kind of man he is? How could he leave me just when I need him the most? I hear Grandma Kay clear her throat and notice she’s staring at me. “What?” I ask.
“Do you remember the last time we painted this door?”
My mind zeroes in on the last time my heart was broken. It wasn’t Nick. It was when my parents died. How could I have forgotten? My heart aches as I think back to the day after their funeral when I saw my grandmother standing at my bedroom door, holding the can of paint.
My head falls as I squint my eyes. “I remember.”
“Your mama loved you so much, child. Your daddy did, too. He was my heart, God bless ‘im. But I know losing your mom was the hardest of all. I never saw a bond quite like yours before in all my years. You were the joy of her existence.”
A breeze rushes over me and for a moment, I believe I can smell her perfume. I see her in my mind, smiling at me as we all painted the door together when Nick and I broke up.
“I know,” I mumble. “I miss her every single day.”
Grandma Kay nods her head. “I know you do.” She stops painting and places her brush on the edge of the can. “After you fell asleep last night, I dozed off in the family room, watching an old rerun ofFriends. I had a dream about her. She told me she wanted me to tell you that she loves you.”
“Really?” My eyebrows crease. Deep in my bones, I long for her arms around me.
“She also told me to do something. I’m not sure you’re going to be very happy with me, but I need to tell you because I don’t think you’ll want to keep painting this door after I tell you what I did.”
