Page 35 of Gravity of Love
Liam never confused her growing up. He was her safe place. Always there for her. Always steady. She would have bet her life she could have predicted his every move. Then after the funeral, he disappeared, and now, now she didn’t know who he was. But today, today had been the old Liam. The one who picked her up on his motorcycle every night at ten o’clock the summer before he left for Stanford when she was fourteen and got into the fall art program at Academy of Art University because he didn’t want her taking the buses alone that late. He was the guy who found out Tristan and Niko had destroyed her science project when she was in sixth grade and stayed up all night to fix it, so she never even knew it happened. She found out four years ago because Tristan thought Liam had told her, so he mentioned it, Liam never said a word. He was the guy who found her sleeping in the grass outside the cottage when she was seven because her mom had manic spells and would drink, and he told her that she could sleep in his room and he’d sleep in another room, but she was too scared, so he slept on his floor, and let her sleep in his bed that night. And every night after that night, whenever she climbed in his window, he would just roll out of bed and sleep on the floor.
Was that this Liam? But why would that Liam not speak to her for a decade?
“Why? You don’t even know Yaya? She’s not your grandma, not your family.”
“I know you.” His eyes changed, they turned serious. “You are my family.”
Right. She was going to be his sister-in-law. Or so he thought. Now shereallyfelt bad for not telling him. But if she did, she knew he would be furious at Tristan. She had to make this right.
“How much was it? I’ll pay you back.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Liam, just tell me how much it was.”
“No.”
“Why are you being like this?” Her hands flew up. “You can’t do all this, it’s too much!”
“Dinner!” Yaya yelled.
“You don’t have to stay. I can tell her you have to work.”
“I will choose a home-cooked meal over sleep any day.” He kissed her on her head then walked into the kitchen to wash his hands. Lucy trotted after him.
Frankie reached up and pressed her fingers to the crown of her head. She had tingles where his lips had touched. She licked her own lips, wishing she actually remembered the kiss that Liam insisted was not harassment as questions scrolled through her mind like credits at the end of a movie.
Why was everything with Liam so complicated?
Why did he have to have the most beautiful green eyes?
Why did he have to be her favorite human to just spend time withandbe the person she happened to be most attracted to on this planet?
It would be so much easier if he were an asshole and/or ugly.
Yaya set the steaming casserole dish on the table with the satisfaction of a master chef, beckoning them over with a flourish of her tiny hands. Frankie trailed into the kitchen andafter washing her hands flopped into her chair. Liam, ever the gentleman, helped Yaya into her seat before easing down in the creaky wooden chair opposite her.
Yaya did the honors, slicing into the pastitsio with a practiced wrist. “Big piece for a big strong doctor,” she announced, heaping a hearty portion on his plate. Without a word, Liam accepted the generous helping. He thanked her, and the corner of his mouth twitched in a rare show of amusement as Yaya added another scoop “for good luck.”
His response was to take a healthy bite and tell her how absolutely delicious it was. He put on a show, remarking on how good the noodles and béchamel were—somehow simultaneously light and heavy. Frankie got her own more than generous serving. There was something about Yaya’s food that always made the world slow down, as if every bite held a piece of her history.
She sat back quietly and observed as Liam asked her grandma, between bites, about her childhood in Greece. She launched into a story about sneaking figs from the neighbor’s tree and outrunning a pack of angry goats. She created quite vivid images of young Yaya as a barefoot terror, her skinny legs and knobby knees dusted with dirt, a cloud of siblings and cousins screaming in her wake. She pantomimed the chase, and Liam listened intently. By the time she finished describing how she and her cousins were hiding down on the dock in a pile of fish, all plugging their noses and gagging while trying to be quiet, she and Liam were laughing—full-bodied and loud, just like they used to laugh as kids.
Then, the conversation shifted when he asked her the story of meeting Frankie’s grandfather. Yaya’s eyes grew misty as she spoke of Papou. “He was so handsome. Just like you, handsome Dr. Liam,” she said, patting his hand and then winking at Frankie. “But you, Francesca, you are too skinny. Eat!”
Frankie sighed but complied, sneaking extra bits of bread to Lucy under the table.
She regaled them with a romantic story of how neither of their parents approved because they were too young, but they were so in love they ran away together and got married. And they never looked back. Tears sprang to her eyes as she said they had sixty-eight years of happy marriage.
Liam reached across the table and told her he was sorry for her loss.
Yaya shook her head. “Oh, no! Why sorry? I have a beautiful love with a beautiful man for many, many beautiful years. Not like this one!” She motioned to Frankie.
Frankie felt Liam’s eyes boring into her cheek as she tried to communicate via telepathy to Yaya not to mention Tristan putting his penis in other women. Thankfully, Yaya moved on.
She did the sign of the cross and kissed the ashes she kept of Papou in a cross around her neck. “And now, nowhesends me Arthur, so I won’t be lonely.”
