Waking Up Gray (18 page)

Lizbeth turned another page and let out a small gasp. There on the page before her was a baby Gray. She knew because there was no mistaking those eyes. Gray must have been about a year old. She was white headed and tanned as she was now, running around in nothing but a diaper. Even at that age, Gray already had the mischievous grin and twinkling eyes.

“Gray, you were adorable, but even then you looked like trouble,” Lizbeth said, chuckling.

Gray grabbed the book from Lizbeth’s lap. “Let me see,” she said.

When Gray lifted the photo album, a few things fell out of the back. Lizbeth picked them up, while Gray examined her childhood image more closely. Lizbeth looked at the items in her hands. There were five photos and a Christmas card, one of those with the family portrait on the front, and Merry Christmas sprawled above their smiling faces.

Lizbeth looked at the photos first. They were all of Gray, wearing a Sea World shirt in various places in the park. When she got to the Christmas card, Lizbeth’s heart skipped a beat. The top of the card read Christmas 2004. Under the heading, a smiling Gray stood with her arm around a beautiful blond woman, a little shorter than Gray, and a Golden Retriever at her feet. The bottom of the card said, “From Gray, Dana, and Coker,” as in O’coker, Lizbeth presumed. She was also assuming that was the dog’s name.

Lizbeth realized too late that Gray had stopped looking at the photo album and was now focused on the card in Lizbeth’s hand. Fanny, seeing what the two were looking at, rectified the situation by unceremoniously reaching down and plucking the card from Lizbeth’s hands, before Lizbeth could get a good look at the woman beside Gray in the picture. There was something familiar about her, but Lizbeth hadn’t gotten the chance to identify it.

“Been meanin’ to go through these and throw out some of this stuff nobody need remember. This is a good place to start as any.” With that, Fanny threw the card into the trashcan beside the couch.

Gray had not moved or spoken. Her tan face had gone pale. Whatever that woman did to Gray left her paralyzed for the moment. She stared at the place where the card had been in Lizbeth’s hand, lost somewhere in the past. Fanny saw it, too.

As if Lizbeth were not there, Fanny said, in a calm loving tone, “Gray, you got to let that go sometime. If you hold on too tight to the past, darlin’, you won’t have no hands to grab onto the present.”

Gray sat the book down on the floor between her and Lizbeth. She stood up slowly and walked out the front door. Lizbeth started after her, but Fanny put her hand on Lizbeth shoulder, preventing her from getting off the floor.

“Leave her be for a minute. She’ll get all right. Gray don’t like to lose control of her emotions in front of folks. She’s always done that, gone off to cry on her own. Didn’t want no one to know when her feelin’s got hurt.”

Lizbeth looked up at the older woman, torn between believing her and running after Gray. She stood up, smiling at Fanny, saying softly, “Maybe that’s what’s wrong with her. She’s been crying by herself too long.”

Fanny reached out and patted Lizbeth’s hand. “Honey, if you’re what’s gonna mend that child’s heart, I wish you’d do it. Lord knows I been tryin’ for goin’ on five years now.” She paused, but didn’t let go of Lizbeth’s hand. She studied Lizbeth for a moment and then continued, “She sure has taken a likin’ to you. First one I seen her give a second look to in the time she’s been back, but be careful on your own account, Gray’s not the easiest person to love. She loves too hard. She’s a tough nut to crack, my Gray, but if you can get to her, she’ll love you with all her heart and soul. She don’t know no other way.”

Fanny’s candor took Lizbeth aback. Fanny had known all along what was going on between them, and as it turned out, was somewhat of a cheerleader for Lizbeth. Lizbeth leaned down and gave Fanny a big hug, whispering into the old woman’s ear, “Thank you, Miss Fanny.”

Fanny squeezed Lizbeth tightly. She was deceptively strong for an eighty-five year old. She released her grip on Lizbeth and patted her on the back, saying, “Now, take her over to your house. You young folk ‘bout wore me out. I’m going to bed.”

Lizbeth helped Fanny to her feet. “You aren’t going to stay up and wait for the storm?”

Fanny grinned, a faint hint of Gray flashed on her face. “No, honey. I’ve seen enough of these to know that this one ain’t worth stayin’ up for.” She winked. “But I bet that storm that’s ‘bout to hit across the street’s gonna be a might size blow.”

#

Gray was seated in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. The wind was more agitated now, but still not a gale. Rain had started to fall and was being blown through the screen surrounding the porch. Gray didn’t seem to notice. She stared off in the distance.

Lizbeth stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her. She grabbed Gray’s hand and pulled her up out of the chair. “Come on, Fanny’s going to bed and you’re going with me.”

There was no protest from Gray. She held onto Lizbeth’s hand and followed her silently across the street. When they got inside, the lights blinked for the first time. Lizbeth led Gray to the couch where, still not speaking, she sat down. Lizbeth went to the kitchen, retrieved a bottle of wine and two glasses, bringing them back to the parlor. She poured a glass of wine for Gray and handed it to her. Gray took it robotically.

Lizbeth set about lighting candles all over the room. She could feel Gray’s eyes on her, watching as she moved about the room. She also lit the two oil lamps on the mantel. Then Lizbeth cut off the parlor lights, sat down on the couch beside Gray, and poured herself a glass of wine. Still no words had been spoken.

Lizbeth waited patiently. She had been right where Gray was at one point in her life, unable to speak the truth of how a heart got broken. Lizbeth would wait, because she knew that when the time was right Gray would tell her everything. Lizbeth thought that helping someone with a broken heart was like trying to help an addict. They couldn’t be helped until they were ready to move on, re-engage in life.

Gray sipped her wine. The wind had picked up, shaking the plywood on the windows occasionally. Lizbeth hardly noticed. She was so attuned to Gray’s every sound and movement that she had begun to breathe in the same rhythm. The lights flickered one more time and then everything went silent and black except for the parlor. Candlelight danced on the white walls. Lizbeth watched the reflected amber radiance shimmer through the wine in her glass. Gray finally sat forward. She rested her elbows on her knees, holding the wine glass in both hands in front of her. She cleared her throat.

“Dana is a veterinarian. We met when she came to treat one of the animals in the park. I’d been running wild since college. I had quite a few girlfriends and affairs, but nothing serious. I was young and having fun, nothing wrong with that. After I met Dana, things changed. I settled down. I loved her. Hell, I even flew to Canada and married her.”

Gray took a sip from her glass and then continued, “Like you said, everything was fine. I had no idea. Ten years into it and boom, it just blew up. One day, my life was perfect, except for the recent death of my mother. The next day, I didn’t have a life anymore.”

Lizbeth’s heart was breaking for Gray, but she remained still, while the tears fell softly on her own cheeks.

Gray swallowed hard. Her voice came out scratchy and dry. “I came home from work and my dog was sick. I didn’t call Dana. I just threw Coker in the car and drove to her office. It was after hours, but I knew she’d still be there. She always was at that time of day. I had a key to the back door so I let myself in. I stepped into the hallway. I thought I heard Dana in her office. I went to get her to help me with the dog. I found her on the couch in her office with one of our closest friends.”

Lizbeth couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath. She was reliving all the pain right along with Gray.

Gray wasn’t finished. “They had been having an affair for a year. It began when I came here to watch my mother die. They even came to the funeral together. To top it all off, my dog was really sick and I had to leave him behind so she could take care of him. I packed. I left. I have only talked to her a few times since. The last time she called to tell me my dog died.”

Gray hung her head and cried quietly. Lizbeth thought Gray was probably afraid to all out cry, too afraid just to let it all out, too scared she couldn’t stop if she did. Lizbeth had been there, too. It had taken her nearly five years to get back on her feet when she first discovered James’ infidelity. She spent the next five plotting her revenge and the last four reveling in it. Gray never got any revenge. Lizbeth rubbed her hand gently in circles on Gray’s back.

Gray finally raised her tear-streaked face to Lizbeth and said, “I don’t want to fall in love with you. What good will it do either of us? You’ll go back to Durham and I’ll be here.”

“Gray, I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to say. Then you can make your decision. You have two choices. You can continue your life as it has been for the last almost five years, never letting anyone get too close. You can try to kill the loneliness by sleeping with strangers. It hasn’t worked, as far as I can tell, but you can keep trying. You can walk out that door right now and I promise you will not see me again.”

Gray tried to interrupt, but Lizbeth put up her hand to silence her. Lizbeth continued, “Or, you can give us a shot. It isn’t perfect. Granted, there are some logistics to work out, but how will we know if we can work them out, if we don’t try?”

Lizbeth took a deep breath, because she was laying all her cards on the table. If she bet wrong, this was all going to backfire miserably. “Gray, if you can walk away and not wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of your life, then do it. But I’m telling you, if kissing me feels anything to you like kissing you does to me, you’re going to wonder.”

Lizbeth stood up, placed her wine glass on the table, and went All-In on the river card. “There’s the door. You can take it or you can follow me upstairs. That’s entirely up to you. Choose wisely.”

Lizbeth held her breath as she walked away. She took an oil lamp from the mantel and climbed the stairs. She exhaled loudly, sitting on the edge of the bed to await the outcome of the ultimatum she had just given Gray. The house was deadly quiet except for the occasional creak or rattle caused by the wind. She heard Gray clear her throat and then set the wine glass on the table. Her heart sank when she heard Gray’s footsteps heading for the front door. Lizbeth had overplayed her hand.

Lizbeth threw herself back on the bed. Her own tears flowed freely now. She never heard the door open and close, because she was too wrapped up in misery. She would be the one always wondering “what if.” Lizbeth would spend the rest of her life reliving the first seven days of knowing Gray and trying to forget them. Lizbeth couldn’t understand why this had happened at all. Here she was crying over a woman of all things. This was cruel and unusual punishment and Lizbeth thought that she had already had her fair share.

Lizbeth felt the weight of someone sit down on the bed with her. She bolted upright to see Gray sitting there.

“I heard you go to the door,” Lizbeth said in disbelief.

Gray smiled and gently brushed a stray hair from Lizbeth’s face. “Lizbeth, I just went to lock the door.”

“Then you’re not leaving?” Lizbeth asked, still not believing Gray was actually sitting there.

“No, I’m not going anywhere,” Gray said.

The amber light from the oil lamp flickered on the walls in the room. Gray’s eyes were dry now. The tears had been dried from her face, only a smear of moisture left on one cheek, glistened in the lamplight. Using the fingers of both hands, Lizbeth wiped her own wet face. Now that Gray was there, Lizbeth didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t thought beyond getting Gray to give in. They sat beside each other, looking into each other’s faces, neither speaking.

There was a lot of soul-searching going on in that little bedroom. The wind had begun to howl against the windows. Rain was being driven sideways into the house and drumming loudly on the roof just above their heads. The cottage creaked around them. Earl was closing in. The storm outside played out in vivid symmetry with the whirling thoughts inside the room. Lizbeth sighed loudly.

Gray smiled. She guessed Lizbeth’s quandary. Her mood was lifting and the twinkle was returning to her eyes. She reached again for Lizbeth’s face, tucking a stray wave of hair behind Lizbeth’s ear. She spoke softly, “Now that you’ve got me here, you don’t know what to with me, do you?”

Lizbeth chuckled. “No, I hadn’t really thought it through, before I started talking.”

Gray teased her. “What would you normally do in this situation?”

“I’ve never been in this particular situation.”

“What’s so unique about this one?” Gray asked, grinning broader now.

Lizbeth blurted out, “Well, you’re a woman for one thing.”

Gray raised one eyebrow, saying, “And?”

“And… Well, I don’t know. I should say that’s plenty,” Lizbeth shot back.

The island rogue began to pour on the charm. “That didn’t seem to bother you this afternoon.”

“That was different. I remind you I was fully clothed.” Lizbeth’s voice raised an octave and her true deeply southern accent revealed itself. It always did when she got excited or stressed. She was both.

Gray let out a sultry laugh, followed by, “Five more minutes and you wouldn’t have been.”