Bird Song (13 page)

I slammed the refrigerator door shut at that comment and glared at him, my jaw hurting from jutting out at such an exaggerated angle, but needing it to do so to help emphasize just how angry I was.
 
Protect me from what?
 
You?
 
If I’m not mistaken, the only time I ever seem to be in any danger is when you’re not around, and you’re not around a lot.

I shouldn’t have thought it.
 
The instant I did, I hated myself for it, but it didn’t matter.
 
The hurt and guilt in Robert’s face before he disappeared were enough to knock me to the ground.
 
“Why do you open your mouth?” I groaned out loud, and hung my head, too ashamed to do anything but sit on the cold, tile floor, my knees throbbing, a small cramp growing in my thighs, and the image of Robert just before he left staring at me from every visible object.

“Grace?
 
Why are you on the floor?”

I looked up and saw Graham standing in the backdoor, a concerned look on his face.
 
“Just sitting here, thinking about how my mouth always gets me into trouble,” I muttered, taking his hand as he pulled me up to a standing position.

“Well, you definitely do have to work on what you say to some people—especially the stupid ones.
 
We tend to lash out and hurt you,” he said, smiling half-heartedly as he implicated himself.
 
“So what happened this time?”

I shook my head, unable—no, unwilling really—to discuss Robert with him as I sank back down to the floor.
 
They might have hashed out their differences, but I was still a sore subject with them.
 
Well, with Robert at least.

“Did it have something to do with Robert?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Graham.”

He shrugged his shoulders, and opened the refrigerator door, being careful not to bang my knees in the process, and carefully removed a package of sandwich meats and a jar of mayonnaise.
 
I watched in my awkward position on the floor as he made himself a sandwich, whistling while he did so.

“Here,” he said as he handed me a triangle of bread and meat.
 
“Eat.
 
You look like you need something on your bones other than Robert.”

There was a time when something like that would have resulted in my reaching out a closed fist and punching Graham in the arm…or in this case, his face.
 
But something inside of me failed to connect with that part of my reflex, and instead, I burst into tears—big, fat, embarrassing tears that I had never been able to shed in front of Graham, and yet there they were, leaving pools of saline on the floor and on my thighs.

Graham was squatting in front of me, his features twisted with concern and confusion. “It’s just a sandwich, Grace,” he muttered as he tried to wipe the moisture away from my face.

“Oh, I feel so stupid,” I sniffled, and quickly shoved the sandwich into my mouth, hoping that I didn’t choke on it…or maybe that I would.
 
“
Migh
-shed-
shumfing
-bad-foo-shim,” I mumbled, bits of bread tumbling out of my mouth as I spoke.

Graham laughed, his head cocked to the side in confusion.
 
“You
wanna
try that again with less food in your mouth?”

After gulping down the remainder of the sandwich, I replied, “I said something bad to him.”

“
Aah
.”
 
Graham nodded his head and reached for me, his arms circling wide around me in a strong, comforting hug, my shoulder pressed against his chest, the side of my head leaning in against the soft dip that rested between his shoulders.
 
This was an embrace that felt…different.
 
The depth of emotions that I could feel from it was the same, but they were just taking a different path.
 
It felt like I was being hugged by a brother.

“I don’t think he’s going to forgive me,” I told him, my voice muffled against his shoulder.
 
“What I said was really bad.”

 
“You want to tell me what it was?
 
Maybe I can tell you if you’re overreacting.”

I allowed my head to move in a silent “no”, and then felt him sigh, not liking that I was keeping a secret from him and that he was seemingly fine with it.

“Grace, he’ll get over it.
 
Let him cool off.
 
He’s a guy and we all get our egos bruised once in a while.
 
Don’t stress too much about it, okay?”
 
He squeezed me, the way a brother would, and I nodded my head in confirmation even though I knew Graham was probably way off base.

“Could you at least tell me what started the argument?”

Wanting to be honest, I told him as much of the truth as I could.
 
All five words of it.
 
“It started with Miss Maggie.”

“The librarian?”

I nodded my head and the grief that I had not yet felt, the grief that I had subconsciously put on the backburner because of my stupid selfishness, suddenly came running to the forefront of my emotions, and brought with it a whole new set of tears.

“You want to tell me what happened?” Graham asked, his voice soft and overflowing with concern.

But as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.
 
I felt him exhale at my response, and the influx of tears only increased as my guilt and my self-hatred dog-piled onto each other.

I felt Graham’s shoulders shake as he chuckled softly, finding some small amusement in my uncharacteristic behavior.
 
“You must really like books to let Miss Maggie come between you and Robert.”

I hid my smile on his shoulder.
 
If he only knew the truth.

Graham and I both went to bed right around the time the sun should have come up.
 
I say should have because the winter storm that had made its appearance shortly after midnight continued to pour snow and the occasional balls of hail onto Heath well past dawn, completely blocking out any beneficial light.
 
It was only when the pounding of hail went from sporadic to incessant that I finally woke up.

The gray glow that shined through my window deceived my inner clock when I looked at the actual one sitting on the dresser and fell back onto the bed with a loud grunt of dissatisfaction.
 
“It’s only nine-thirty!”

I rolled over onto my side and reached for the familiar shape that felt like it had always been there, as much a part of me as my own skin.
 
But nothing was there.
 
The spot on the bed where Robert normally slept beside me was empty, the void on the bed obvious by the lack of disturbance on the comforter or the pillow.

I hadn’t expected just how bereft I would feel at the return of the emptiness that, until just a couple of months ago, had always been there.
 
My fingers clutched at the empty space, my palm itching to feel the warmth of another’s skin that it had grown accustomed to.

The tears that had flowed too freely just a few hours earlier renewed their path down my face as I felt wholly pitiful, Robert’s absence filling me with more regret than I thought possible.
 
I had to learn to control my mouth.

Yes, you do.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, and sunk my face into the covers of my bed.
 
I didn’t know where he was, but I didn’t want him to see my face all swollen and puffy like I’d just been attacked by a nest of yellow-jackets.

I’ve seen you look a lot worse.
 
I felt him seat himself on the edge of the bed, and with a speed I knew I shouldn’t possess, I was against his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist, my face pressed up against the hollow of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a low whisper, the sobs that I had barely held off finally breaking through and pouring out onto his shirt.
 
“I shouldn’t have said it.
 
I shouldn’t have been so selfish.”

When his arms finally came around me, holding me as I did him, it should have been enough to calm me down.
 
I should have been relieved, elated.
 
Instead, the bawling only grew in intensity; the sobs turned into hiccups while my eyes, which had merely been puffy before, were now nearly swollen shut from the demands of so many tears.
 
I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, and I could tell by the warmth in my cheeks that I probably looked as red as a strawberry, with mottled seeds to match.

“And you’re still beautiful,” Robert sighed, his chin resting on my head, his arms squeezing me rhythmically, a calming pattern that slowly worked its way into my breathing.
 
“And absolutely, ridiculously, and wholly silly.”

I smiled, not caring what he said, as long as he was here to say it, here to hold me while saying it…just here.

“I’m sorry, Grace.
 
I shouldn’t have left like that.
 
It was the wrong thing to do.
 
I promise it won’t happen again.
 
We have to face our problems head on, otherwise this is what happens:
 
We hurt each other.”

Shaking my head I mumbled into his shirt, “I’m the one who hurt you.
 
You have the patience of…well, an angel, and if I can make even you angry, then something is seriously wrong with me.”

I felt his chest shake as he laughed, heard the deep timber of it beneath his skin.
 
“Nothing is wrong with you.
 
Everything in the world is right if I love you so much, you affect the way I think.”

“Do I, really?”

His lips brushed the top of my head as he answered, albeit reluctantly, “Yes.
 
You affect my entire world, Grace.
 
The obvious changes are one thing, but it’s the changes inside that prove to me every day how profound an impact you have had on my life.
 
Fifteen hundred years of merely existing, feeling the same things, thinking the same things, dreaming of the same thing—and in less than half a year, you’ve changed everything.”

For some reason, I apologized…again, which didn’t seem to sit well with Robert.
 
“Don’t apologize, Grace.
 
You didn’t ask for me to come into your life and turn it upside down.
 
Had I never spoken to you, you would have continued on your path, and I would have continued on mine.”

There were times when I knew I needed to keep my mouth shut, to prevent myself from saying things that would only get me into trouble, and hurt those I cared about.
 

This wasn’t one of those times.

“What do you mean, I would have continued on my path, and you would have continued on yours?
 
What path was I on?
 
Oh, that’s right, the one where I had no friends, barely any family, and no you.
 
And what about you?
 
What would you have done for the next fifteen hundred years?”

Robert stiffened before shrugging his shoulders and exhaling.
 
He pulled me away from him with little effort, despite my using all of my strength to hold onto him.
 
“I would have continued to exist, never knowing what I was missing, and perhaps being all the wiser for it.”

“
Wh
-what?
 
Why?”
 
I demanded to know.
 
I looked into his face and, for the first time, saw a faint trace of disappointment…but for what?

“Don’t worry about it, Grace.
 
What’s important is that I’m here, now.
 
You are more than just a part of my life; you are my life.”

I wanted to press the issue, as much as I knew he didn’t, but as it always seemed, just when I was getting around to the most important of questions, someone knocked on my door.
 
“Grace, can I come in?” I heard Graham ask on the other side of the door.
 
I turned to look at Robert, to see if he didn’t mind, but he was already gone.

“Sure,” I replied.
 
“It’s not like you’ll find me in here with anyone…brave,” I mumbled under my breath as Graham walked in, dressed in a uniform of some sort.

“So, what do you think?” he questioned as he turned around, showing off the burgundy shirt with what I could only assume was a white, clip-on tie.
 
His pants were a dark gray color with a matching burgundy stripe running along the side of each thigh.

“You look like a nutcracker.
 
All that’s missing is your hat,” I commented, moving my hand to rest in the warm spot that Robert had recently occupied.
 
It disturbed me how quick he was to run away, even now.

Graham took my motion as a cue to sit, and I snatched my hand out of the way before he crushed it with his weight.
 
“Have you talked to Robert, yet?” he asked, his eyes filled with concern as he reached to push some of my matted hair out of my face.
 
“You look worse than when I left you, Grace.
 
You did talk to him, didn’t you?
 
Did he say something to hurt you?”