Page 101 of Lily In The Valley
I touched her lower back and whispered into her ear, “I think we should switch to something else.”
She looked up at me. “I think you’re right.” Then she turned to the crowd. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m dying to know what Baby Morris will be.”
“You already know!” Lynn yelled out, laughing.
Kelly placed a gentle hand on my back and whispered into my ear, “Go get the darts. I’m about to push everyone outside.”
With everyone standing outside, the heat lamps took off the slight chill in an otherwise warm, early fall night. Guests crowded under the patio, staring at the large canvas with pink and blue balloons adhered to it. Vanessa and Xavier stood in the center of the crowd, holding the darts I’d grabbed. Chattering in the back started with people guessing whether it’d be a boy or girl. The DJ played Beyonce’sCountdownin the background.
Xavier took the first throw, hitting a pink balloon filled with gray paint. Vanessa took the next throw, barely catching a blue balloon, also filled with gray paint. They kept rotating throws, keeping the guests in suspense. With each throw, Kelly held onto my arm, tighter and tighter. You’d think we didn’t already know the gender. Suddenly, Vanessa hit another balloon, the color splattering everywhere.
“It’s a girl!” Vivian and Ma Josie screamed at the same time, hugging each other. Xavier turned to pick up Vanessa, holding her in the air. Their kiss was magnetic. Tears filled her eyes. Her friends jumped up and down, waiting for their moment to hug her. When he put her down, they stayed connected. He whispered something to her over the cheers of the crowd. Kissed her tears away. Wiped the ones he couldn’t catch. When they turned to us, joy wasn’t even the word to capture the feeling on his face. They hugged their parents. Vanessa continued crying in her mother’s arms. Her father finishing the circle. He stepped away to shake Xavier’s hand.
Kelly and I looked on from the outskirts, letting everyone else have their moment. I looked down at her, seeing the tears streaming down her face as she looked on.
“Hey, you okay?” I brushed her cheek with my thumb. She shook her head side to side. “Come with me,” I replied, taking her hand and guiding her out of the soft-lit world and into something quieter.
We ended up in a small bathroom off the catering kitchen. She grabbed some paper towels, wetting them in the sink and wiping her eyes. She took deep breaths to calm herself. I rubbed her back, smoothed my hands over her shoulders.
“Ugh, I’m so fucking tired of crying.” She laughed, voice thin and damp around the edges. She looked at us in the mirror. For the first time, I think she saw herself. Not the woman she showed to the world. But the one still piecing herself together.The one holding everything up while still figuring out how to put it all down. She took a shaky breath, then another.
“It’s okay to cry, Lily-girl,” I said. I moved closer, reached to kiss her shoulder, but stopped myself halfway. Letting her breathe.
“I know. It’s just. I’ve been crying and crying and crying. When does it stop?” She turned around and leaned against the sink, letting the cool porcelain ground her. I opened my hands. She placed hers there without hesitation, palms meeting mine. I traced slow circles over the backs of her hands.
“I’m not sad, though,” she whispered. “I’m actually very happy. I’m just going to miss my sister. We been thugging together since the womb. They deserve this. Nessa and Zay.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “They do.”
She gave a soft smile, a little water round the edges. “You remember how we set them up?”
“Which time?” I chuckled. “It’s been them and us since then.”
“You make that sound bad,” she said, tilting her head just slightly.
“It was never bad,” I replied, voice low. “Even when it was bad.”
She blinked slow, stepping into my space until I could feel her breath.
“It’s still not bad,” she whispered.
Her fingers slipped from my hands to my chest, flattening against my shirt. My arms drifted up to her waist, settling on soft fabric. We stood there, suspended in something hot and delicate, heartbeats crashing in rhythm.
She leaned in, and I did too.
Her lips brushed mine. Once. Then again, fuller this time. A question neither of us wanting to answer lingered there. It started soft. Gentle. Familiar. Then deepened. One hand at the base of her neck, the other gripping her ass. Our breaths hitched.Our mouths opened wider. A quiet hunger bloomed between us like something starved too long. I pressed her closer, hungry. She moaned into my mouth, wanting more.
But then she stilled. Pulled back. Rested her forehead against my jaw.
Her voice broke first. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have”
“Don’t apologize,” I said quickly, still catching my breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
She stepped back, looked down at the floor like it held the answers.
“I still feel things,” she whispered. “But I don’t trust myself right now to not break us again.”
I nodded, slow. My chest ached, but not in the way it used to. This time it was clean. Honest.
