A gruff laugh struggles past his lips. "The things I said to you, Grip."
He shakes his head, self-derision twisting his expression.
"I thought I knew. I . . . assumed, I guess, assumed things about you, Bristol. You, too, Grip. You were right. I was no better than the people we call bigots, and I'm sorry. No one could look at the two of you and think your love is based on anything but . . . each other."
It's quiet for a moment. In that slice of silent space, I add Iz to my blessings column. That someone so set against us, after seeing us and knowing us, had a change of heart-that's a little bit of a miracle, and right now, I'll take every miracle I can get.
"Apology accepted." Grip takes a sip of his drink. "I just have one question."
"Sure. Go for it." A degree of wariness enters Iz's eyes, like Grip might challenge him on his past beliefs and the way he insulted us before, even if he didn't think of it that way.
"Well now that you believe a black man could legit fall for a woman who isn't black," Grip says, "you gonna break Callie off or what?"
Iz's eyes stretch wide and then crinkle at the corners with his smile and the laugh that booms from his throat.
"Motherfucker!" He slams his drink down on the glass table. "Technically, Callie is a woman of color, and what I tell you about sticking your nose in my bedroom?"
"As little action as you get, brother," Grip says, a crooked smile on his full lips, "ain't nothing to see in there."
I sip my water and laugh while they rib each other mercilessly for the next hour, until sleep takes me hostage, like it always seems to these days. I don't even stir until Grip removes my dress and panties. Even walking through this difficult time, Grip manages to make me feel sexy, wanted. He loves my body pregnant, and hides my nightgowns. He is my brightest spot, my greatest blessing. Even now he leans on one elbow, hovering over me protectively, searching my face for sadness, for distress, for anything he can fix in a sea of things he cannot.
"Sorry I fell asleep." I grab his wrist to look at the crappy watch I won for him years ago. "It's late. What time does our flight-"
"I delayed it." He brushes my unruly hair, which started the night in a neat twist, out of my face. "I want you to sleep in. You need rest."
He disappears under the covers, and I feel his breath, his lips whispering to our daughter. I've never asked if he still whispers to her of hope, of possibility. I have no idea how he can when most days I can't find enough hope for me, much less anyone else.
And then it happens.
A kick. From inside my belly, a jolt, a sign of life.
Grip and I gasp together, a set of startled breaths and broken hearts finding a moment of joy to share. He pulls the comforter back to show the rising curve of my stomach, clearly seen even in the dim light.
"Did you feel that?" His voice is hushed with awe dipped in sorrow.
"Yeah." I swallow the tears I'm tired of shedding. I don't want them falling on this moment. I want this one thing we have that couples always want to be free of the shadow of what's to come.
"It's incredible." Grip's smile, wide and beautiful like a stretch of morning sky, takes my breath. "You're incredible."
He bends his head, ghosting his lips over my nose, my eyes, my lips.
"Thank you, Bristol." His voice comes rougher with emotion.
"Thank me for what?" I caress the warm skin of his neck, the sleek slope of his shoulders, the strength of his arms.
"For carrying our child. I know men say that all the time to their wives, but this . . ." He swallows, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. "God, if it's too much for you, Bris, I'll never forgive myself."
"No." I shake my head, overcome that he feels guilty, responsible for where we are, between this rock and impossible place. "Grip, no. I wanted this. I mean, of course, not this, not this way, but presented with our choices, this is what I choose. It's right for us. Baby, please don't . . ."
When words fail me, I lift my head to kiss him, opening up just enough to sample his love, to savor his concern. I want him to know we're in this together of my volition. He returns the kiss with a begging passion that flares into the solace we find only in each other-not the storm we're walking through, but the one we make with our love. It's an extravagant intimacy reserved for this bed and these bodies, and like I have many nights before, I fall asleep in his arms with the taste of him on my lips. It's enough.
In the eye of the storm, it's a blessing.
37
Grip
"Surprise!"
Bristol wide-eyes the cluster of women at our front door even as a smile overtakes her face. At eight months pregnant, she's bigger than I've ever seen her.
And more beautiful.
This pregnancy is unusual, atypical in most ways, but that legendary glow women supposedly have-Bristol has it in spades. I beat her to the door when the knock came because I knew who was on the other side. Kai came to me weeks ago about a shower for Bristol-not a traditional shower, obviously, with gifts for the baby and all the items we would need if this was happening as it should. Kai wanted to do something for Bristol to express the support from the women in her life, to show that they love her and want to walk with her through the hard part lies ahead.
I hug each of them as they file in. There's Jimmi and Kai, Shon and Charm, who flew in from New York, and my mom and Jade.
"Jade?" I don't try to hide my surprise. "Wow. I mean, it's good to see you."
Things have improved between us and thawed some between Jade and Bristol, but she's not exactly a fixture in our lives. I told her about the diagnosis soon after we found out, but we haven't talked much about it. I don't think she knew what to say. Most people don't.
"I wasn't gonna miss this girly shit." She adjusts her Raiders cap and scoffs. "You know they actually doing pedicures and facials up in here?"
"Yeah, well I heard girls like that kind of thing." I shrug carelessly. "I'm watching the game in the other room if you need to get outta dodge."
"I'll be in there by halftime." Jade's smile disappears and her eyes sober. "How you holding up?"
"We're all right." I look over at Bristol, surrounded by laughing women and nail polish and Cards Against Humanity and overpriced cupcakes. "I hope it's not too much for her."
I haven't said that aloud to hardly anyone, but Jade's not just anyone. We bonded around the hardest times of our childhood. The day that cop violated her on the playground. The day one of her brothers killed the other in my front yard. We stood witness to each other's worst moments; we share the intimacy of tragedy. Our relationship has always been a pendulum that swings from reticent to confessional.
"She'll be cool. You were right-that girl's ride or die. She's a fighter." Jade tips her head back to study my face. "It's you I'm worried about."
"Me?" I touch my chest and shake my head. "I'll be fine. I mean, it's gonna hurt to the white meat, but I'll hold as long as she's okay. If this breaks Bristol . . ."
My words disintegrate. Our love is a tensile thread, stretched beyond even the bounds I thought possible. It connects us in a way that may be invisible, but is more real to me than anything I can touch or taste. I told her once that if I break her heart, I break mine, and it's true. Our hearts are wrapped around one another, joined. I honestly believe I can survive anything if Bristol is by my side. It's the closest thing to faith I have, and I cling to it. I cling to her. She thinks I'm the one holding us up, but my strength is tangled in her. If I lost Bris . . . not physically, but what we have, it has to stay intact. It's my cornerstone, and from what I've read, the hardest thing for a couple to survive is losing a child.
Kai walks up and says a few words to Jade before my cousin drifts off. Not sure how long she'll be able to stay in here with the estrogen as thick as it is.
"Thanks for letting us do this, Grip." Sadness shadows Kai's eyes, but a smile rests obstinately on her lips. "We're with you guys. I know this is unimaginably hard, but you're not alone."
"Thanks for letting me stay," I say. "For understanding."
This whole thing is sweet, and I'm glad Kai wanted to do it, but it, like everything in this pregnancy, has a bitter side, and I want to be close if things take a turn and Bristol needs me.
"Well you can stay, but you did agree to be out of sight, so . . ." She waves a slim hand toward the living room and the mammoth flat-screen television waiting for me. "Off you go."
"I'm going," I fake grumble. All this nail polish and tarts and shit is actually starting to make me itch.
On my way out, I stop to kiss Bristol's cheek.