Page 48 of Addicted

“Grammy, you didn’t see her. See her place. I had to.” My hand reached out to her shoulder, and she just looked at me, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle. After a moment, she nodded.

“Love pushes and it pulls.”

“Love? Grams, please.” I shook my head and blew out a breath.

“You’ve been talking about this girl for years. Yes,love, you silly damn fool.” Her hand came out to box my ear and I dodged it.

“She does more than push and pull,” I said, sneaking a peek at her. She had her head lifted to the sky, the soft skin of her neck extending out from beneath her jacket. I didn’t realize I was absently following the trail of my tattoo until Grams’ eyes caught on to the movement. Reaching for me, she placed her hand over mine.

“You’re here. You. Not him.” Her words stole my breath.

“Grams, I—”

“Are you in jail? Did you have to bury that man’s body?”

“I stopped—”

Her hand went back to my chest.

“If you were still him, you wouldn’t have stopped.”

Reaching up, she grabbed my face with both of her hands, so I wouldn’t have a choice but to look in her eyes.

“When I say love pushes and pulls, I mean, we sometimes do things for love that scare us.”

She gave my face a shake.

“If you hadn’t been him, you wouldn’t be you, and where would you be?”

She let the weight of her words lie for a minute before she pinched my cheeks.

“I’m not saying that God tests us, because I know how that makes you feel. But, I will say, you are where you’re supposed to be. And so is she. Don’t fear that.”

She was right. I was afraid. I trusted Denise. IknewDenise. It was time that Denise knew me, too.

“I have to tell her,” I said more to myself than Grams.

“Yes, you do,” she agreed.

She dragged me down the stairs and I watched my feet hit one step and then another.

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” I whispered.

Grams pulled me into her arms and squeezed me tight, twisting and turning me like she always did.

“It’s just a little push, baby, if she’s the right one, she’ll pull,” she said into my ear. “But, she ain’t as fragile as you think.”

I laughed as she let me go. She was right about that. If there’s anything I’d learned in the last forty-eight hours, it’s that.

I started to back away, smiling and feeling lighter than I had in days.

“I hope so, Grams.”

“Have a little faith. She’s gonna pick this year’s color. Mark my words.”

The image of Denise with me and Grams looking over paint samples made me dizzy. Andlove? Did I love Denise? Of course. I loved my friend, Denise. But, did IloveDenise?

I looked at her, standing in the semi-darkness. Then I saw her prancing around SF MOMA, watched her drunken smile as we sat in her new office and stared at the city below us, saw her twirling around in the metallic dress as she made her way through a room full of some of the most intimidating people in our world like she’d grown up surrounded by billions of dollars.

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