All Your Perfects
Page 29

She doesn’t look all that offended. She just shrugs. “Maybe it isn’t God’s fault,” she says. “Maybe reproductive systems just work or they don’t.” That would make more sense. “How did you know I never wanted kids?”
I laugh halfheartedly. “You said it. Many times.”
She actually looks guilty. She glances away from me and stares out over the front yard. “I wanted to travel,” she says. “When your father and I got married, we had plans to move to a different country every year for five years before buying a house. Just so we could experience other cultures before we died. But one crazy night, we weren’t careful and it turned into your sister, Ava.” She looks at me and says, “I never wanted to be a mother, Quinn. But I’ve done my best. I truly have. And I’m grateful for you and Ava. Even if it’s hard for me to show it.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I didn’t get my first choice at the perfect life, but I sure as hell did the best I could with my second choice.”
I nod, wiping a tear away. I can’t believe she’s admitting all of this to me. And I can’t believe I can sit here and be okay with her telling me my sister and I weren’t what she wanted in life. But the fact that she’s being honest and even said she’s grateful is more than I ever imagined I’d get from her. I put my arms around her.
“Thank you.”
She hugs me back, albeit stiffly and not like I would hug my own children if I had any. But she’s here and she’s hugging me and that should count for something.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come inside? I could put on some hot tea.”
I shake my head. “It’s late. I should probably get back home.”
She nods, although I can tell she’s hesitant to leave me out here alone. She just doesn’t know what to do or say beyond what she’s already said without it becoming too awkward. She eventually goes inside, but I don’t leave right away. I sit on her porch for a while because I don’t want to go back home yet.
I also don’t want to be here.
I kind of wish I didn’t have to be anywhere at all.
Chapter Nineteen
* * *
Then
“I miss you.” I try not to pout, but it’s a phone conversation and he can’t see me, so I push my lip out.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says. “Promise. I just worry I’m smothering you but you’re too nice to tell me.”
“I’m not. I’m mean and blunt and I would tell you to leave if I wanted you to leave.” It’s true. I would tell him if I wanted space. And he would give it to me without question.
“I’ll come over as soon as I get off work tomorrow and pick you up. Then I meet your mother.”
I sigh. “Okay. But let’s have sex before we go to her house because I’m already stressed.”
Graham laughs and I can tell by his laugh he’s thinking dirty thoughts because of my sentence. He has different laughs for different reactions and it’s been one of my favorite things, differentiating them all. My favorite laugh is in the morning when I tell him about what I dreamt the night before. He always thinks my dreams are funny and there’s a dry throatiness to his morning laugh because he’s not fully awake yet.
“See you tomorrow.” He says it quietly, like he already misses me.
“Goodnight.” I hang up in a hurry. I don’t like talking to him on the phone because he still hasn’t told me he loves me yet. I haven’t told him, either. So when we’re saying goodbye to each other, I’m always scared that’s when he’ll choose to say it. I don’t want him to say it for the first time during a phone conversation. I want him to say it when he’s looking at me.
I spend the next two hours trying to remember what my life was like before Graham. I take a shower alone, watch TV alone, play on my phone alone. I thought maybe it would be nice, but I’m mostly just bored with it.
It’s odd. I was with Ethan for four years and probably spent one or two nights a week with him. I loved my alone time when Ethan and I were dating. Even in the beginning. Being with him was nice, but being alone was just as nice.
It’s not like that with Graham. After two hours, I’m bored out of my mind. I finally turn off the television, turn off my phone, turn off the lamp. When all is dark, I try to clear my thoughts so I’ll fall asleep and be able to dream about him.
* * *
My alarm starts to buzz, but it’s too bright, so I grab a pillow and throw it over my face. Graham is normally here and he always cuts off the alarm for me and gives me a couple of minutes to wake up. Which means my alarm will go off forever if I don’t adult.
I move the pillow and just as I’m about to reach for the alarm, it cuts off. I open my eyes and Graham is rolling back over to face me. He’s not wearing a shirt and it looks like he just woke up.
He smiles and pecks me on the lips. “I couldn’t sleep,” he says. “Finally gave up and came over here after midnight.”
I smile, even though it’s way too early for me to feel like smiling. “You missed me.”
Graham pulls me against him. “It’s weird,” he says. “I used to be fine when I was alone. But now that I have you, I’m lonely when I’m alone.”
Sometimes he says the sweetest things. Words I want to write down and keep forever so that I’ll never forget them. But I never write them down because every time he says something sweet, I take off his clothes and need him inside me more than I need to write down his words.
That’s exactly what happens. We make love and I forget to write down his words. We’ve been trying to catch our breath for the last minute when he turns to me and says, “What did I miss while you were sleeping?”
I shake my head. “It’s too weird.”
He lifts up onto his elbow and looks at me like I’m not getting out of this. I sigh and roll onto my back. “Okay, fine. We were at your apartment in the dream. Only your apartment was a really tiny shit-hole in Manhattan. I woke up before you because I wanted to do something nice and make you breakfast. But I didn’t know how to cook and all you had were boxes of cereal, so I decided to make you a bowl of Lucky Charms. But every time I would pour the cereal into the bowl, the only thing that would come out of the box were tiny little comedians with microphones.”
“Wait,” Graham says, interrupting me. “Did you say comedians? Like as in people who tell jokes?”
“I told you it was weird. And yes. They were telling knock-knock jokes and yo-momma jokes. I was getting so angry because all I wanted to do was make you a bowl of Lucky Charms, but there were hundreds of tiny, annoying comedians climbing all over your kitchen, telling lame jokes. When you woke up and walked into the kitchen, you found me crying. I was a sobbing mess, running around your kitchen, trying to squash all the little comedians with a mason jar. But instead of being freaked out, you just walked up behind me and wrapped your arms around me. You said, ‘Quinn, it’s okay. We can have toast for breakfast.’ ”
Graham immediately drops his face into the pillow, stifling his laughter. I shove him in the arm. “Try and decipher that one, smartass.”
Graham sighs and pulls me to him. “It means that I should probably cook breakfast from now on.”
I like that plan.
“What do you want? French toast? Pancakes?”
I lift up and kiss him. “Just you.”
“Again?”
I nod. “I want seconds.”
I get exactly what I want for breakfast. Then we shower together, drink coffee together, and leave for work.
We couldn’t even spend an entire night apart, but I don’t think this means we live together. That’s a huge step neither of us are willing to admit we took. I think if anything, this just means we no longer live alone. If there’s a difference.
His mother probably thinks we already live together since she thinks we’ve been dating a lot longer than we have. I’ve been to Graham’s parents’ house at least once a week since the first night he took me there. Luckily, he stopped with the fictional stories. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to keep up with everything he told her the first night.