The Elements Series Complete Box Set

by Brittainy Cherry

  “Ah.” He smiled knowingly. “Lucy Palmer happened.”

  “So, Karla, I owe you fifty dollars,” Oliver stated, coming to the dining room table for brunch after we finished talking shop in his office. He straightened his tie and sat down at the head of the table. “You were right about Graham—he still knows how to write. Turns out he’s not a twenty-seven-book wonder.”

  Lucy chuckled, and it sounded beautiful. “You bet against Graham’s words?”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Did you read his last draft?!”

  She grimaced. “What was the deal with the lion?”

  “I know, right!” he hollered, nodding in agreement. “That freaking lion!”

  “Okay, okay, we get it, I suck. Can we move on with the conversation?” I asked.

  Lucy nudged me in the arm. “But the lion.”

  “It was hideous,” Professor Oliver agreed.

  “Poorly written.”

  “Weird.”

  “Odd.”

  “Complete trash,” the two said in unison.

  I rolled my eyes. “My God, Lucille, you’re like the female version of Oliver—my worst nightmare.”

  “Or your favorite dream come true,” Professor Oliver mocked, wiggling his eyebrows in a knowing way. What he knew—hell if I could tell. He reached across the table for bacon, and Karla slapped his hand.

  “Dad, no.”

  He groaned, and I welcomed the change in subject. “A few pieces of bacon won’t kill me, darling. Plus, it’s a holiday.”

  “Yeah, well, your heart doesn’t know it’s a holiday, so keep to the turkey bacon Mom made for you.”

  He grimaced. “That’s not bacon.” He smiled over at Lucy and shrugged his shoulders. “You have a mini heart attack once and three minor heart surgeries, and people take that stuff so seriously for the rest of your life,” he joked.

  Mary smiled over at her husband and patted his hand with hers. “Call us overprotective, but we just want you around forever. If that includes you hating us for forcing you to eat turkey bacon”—she put three strips onto his plate—“so be it.”

  “Touché, touché.” Professor Oliver nodded, biting into the non-bacon bacon. “I can’t really blame you all. I’d want to be forever surrounded by me, too.”

  We spent the rest of brunch laughing with one another, exchanging embarrassing stories, and sharing memories. Lucy listened to everyone’s words with such grace, asking questions, wanting more details, fully engaging in the conversations. I adored that about her, how she was such a people person. She made every room fill with light whenever she entered the space.

  “Lucy, we’re so happy you joined us today. Your smile is contagious,” Mary said as we finished up the afternoon. We all sat at the dining room table, stuffed and enjoying the good company.

  Lucy smiled wide and smoothed out her dress. “This has truly been amazing. I would’ve just been sitting at home lonely.” She laughed.

  “You don’t normally spend holidays alone, do you?” Karla questioned with a frown.

  “Oh, no. I’m always with my sister, but this year an old friend of hers is back in the States for such a short period of time, so she went to visit her. Normally Mari and I go up to a friend’s cabin to visit my mother’s tree every holiday.”

  “Her tree?” Susie asked.

  “Yeah. After my mom passed away years ago, we planted a tree to honor her memory, taking a life and making it grow, even after death. So, each holiday we go, eat licorice—Mama’s favorite candy—and sit around the tree, listening to music and breathing in the earth.”

  “That’s so beautiful.” Karla sighed. She turned to Susie and slapped her in the arm. “When I die, will you plant a tree in my memory?”

  “I’ll plant a beer—seems more fitting,” Susie replied.

  Karla’s eyes widened and she leaned in to kiss Susie. “I’m going to marry you so hard in three months, woman.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened with joy. “When are you two getting married?”

  “Fourth of July weekend, the weekend we met,” Karla said, giddy. “We were going to wait until next year, but I can’t wait any longer.” She turned to Professor Oliver, smiling wide. “I just need my papa to walk me down the aisle and give me away to my love.”

  “It’s going to be the best day,” Oliver replied, taking his daughter’s hand and kissing it. “Only second best to the day you officially became my daughter.”

  My heart expanded even more.

  “Well, if you need a florist, it’ll be my treat,” Lucy offered.

  Susie’s eyes widened. “Seriously? That would be amazing. Like, beyond amazing.”

  If it weren’t for the love I saw between Professor Oliver and Mary, and the love between Karla and Susie, I would’ve been certain love was an urban legend, something made only for fairytale books.

  But the way those people stared at one another, the way they loved so freely and loudly…

  True, romantic love was real.

  Even if I’d never been able to feel it for myself.

  “You know, Graham still needs a plus one for the ceremony. Hint, hint.” Susie smirked widely.

  I rolled my eyes, feeling a knot in my stomach. A quick change of subject was needed. “Susie and Karla are amazing singers,” I told Lucy, leaning in and nudging her in the side. “That’s how they met—at a Fourth of July music showcase. You should ask them to sing something.”

  “Graham is full of crap,” Karla replied, throwing a piece of bread at him.

  “No, he’s not.” Mary smiled. “I might be a bit biased, but they are amazing. Come on, girls, sing something.” Right at that moment, Talon’s baby monitor started going off, telling us she was up from her nap. “I’ll grab her, and you ladies pick out a song,” Mary ordered.

  “Mom, geez, no pressure, huh?” Karla rolled her eyes, but there was a bit of light in her gaze that revealed how much she loved to perform. “Fine. What do you think, Susie? Andra Day?”

  “Perfect,” she agreed, standing up. “But I’m not singing at the table. This diva needs a stage.”

  We all headed to the living room, and I sat on the sofa next to Lucy. Mary walked in with my daughter in her arms, and for a moment I considered that was what a grandmother should’ve looked like. Happy. Healthy. Whole. Filled with love.

  Talon had no clue how lucky she was to have a Mary.

  I hadn’t a clue how lucky I was to have a Mary, too.

  Karla sat down at the piano in the corner, stretched out her fingers, and began to play “Rise Up” by Andra Day. The music floating from the piano was stunning all on its own, but when Susie started to sing, I thought the whole room felt the chills. Lucy’s eyes were glued to the performance, while mine stayed glued to her. Her body started to tremble, and her legs shook as she watched the girls perform. It was as if the words were swallowing her whole as tears began to stream down her cheeks.

  Her tears fell faster and faster as the lyrics of the song found her heart and planted their seeds. She blushed nervously and tried to wipe her tears away, but when she wiped some away, more came.

  The next time she went to wipe them, I took her hand in mine, stopping her. She turned my way, confused, and I squeezed her hand lightly. “It’s okay,” I whispered.

  Her lips parted as if she were going to speak, but then she just nodded once before turning back to the girls and closing her eyes. The tears kept falling as she listened to the beautiful vocals, her body rocking slightly as I held her hand.

  For the first time, I began to understand her fully.

  The beautiful girl who felt everything.

  Her emotions weren’t what made her weak.

  They were her strength.

  When the girls finished performing, Lucy started clapping, the tears still falling. “That was so amazing.”

  “Are you sure you’re not crying because we suck?” Karla laughed.

  “No, it was so amazing. My mom would have…” She paused for a moment and took a dee
p breath. “She would’ve just loved it.”

  My eyes fell to our hands, which were still clasped together, and I released my hold, along with the tugging feeling in my chest.

  When night came, we packed up our things, thanking everyone for including us.

  “It was amazing,” Lucy told Mary and Ollie as she hugged them both tightly. “Thank you for keeping me from sitting on my couch eating Ben & Jerry’s tonight.”

  “You’re always welcome here, Lucy,” Mary said, kissing her cheek.

  “I’ll go put Talon in her car seat,” Lucy said to me, taking Talon from my arms before thanking everyone once more.

  Mary gave me a tight smile and pulled me into a hug. “I like her,” she whispered as she patted me on the back. “She has a good heart.”

  She wasn’t wrong.

  Once she went back inside, Professor Oliver stood on the front porch, grinning wide.

  “What?” I asked, my eyebrows knotted.

  “Oh, Mr. Russell,” he sang, placing his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth.

  “What?!”

  He whistled low, shaking his head back and forth. “It’s just funny that it’s happening to you of all people, and you seem one hundred percent ignorant to it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I guess it’s harder to see the plot line when you’re the one living the story.”

  “Did someone forget to take their crazy pills again?” I asked.

  “In every story, there’s the moment when the characters go from act one, the old world, into act two, the new world. You know this.”

  “Yes…but what does that have to do with anything?”

  Professor Oliver nodded toward Lucy. “It has everything to do with everything.”

  Realization set in and I cleared my throat, standing up straighter. “No, that’s ridiculous. She’s just helping with Talon.”

  “Mhmm,” he said, almost mockingly.

  “No, really—and, regardless of your batty mind games, she’s Jane’s sister.”

  “Mhmm,” he replied, driving me crazy. “The thing is, the heart never listens to the brain’s logic, Mr. Russell.” He nudged me in the side with an all-knowing hitch in his voice. “It just feels.”

  “You’re really starting to annoy me.”

  He laughed and nodded. “It’s just funny, isn’t it? How the main characters never know about the adventures they’re about to go on.”

  What bothered me the most about his words was how much truth was contained in them. I knew my feelings for Lucy were growing, and I knew how dangerous it was to allow myself to develop any kind of emotions toward her.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I felt the way I did when I held her hand, or when I saw her caring for Talon, or even when I saw her merely existing.

  “What do you think of her, Graham?” Professor Oliver asked.

  “What do I think of Lucille?”

  “Yes. Maybe if you can’t be with her, perhaps you still have room for a friendship.”

  “She’s my complete opposite,” I told him. “Lucille is such an odd character, a freak of nature. She’s clumsy and always speaks out of turn. Her hair’s always wild, and her laughter is at times annoying and too loud. Everything about her is disastrous. She’s nothing more than a mess.”

  “And yet?” he urged me on.

  And yet, I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to be an odd character, a freak of nature. I wanted to stumble and laugh out loud. I wanted to find her beautiful disaster and mix it together with my own mess. I wanted the freedom she swam in, and her fearlessness of living in the moment.

  I wanted to know what it meant to be a part of her world.

  To be a man who felt everything.

  I wanted to hold her, but still have her move freely in my arms. I wanted to taste her lips and breathe in a part of her soul as I gave her a glimpse of mine.

  I didn’t want to be her friend—no.

  I wanted to be so much more.

  Yet, I knew the possibility of that was impossible. She was the one thing off-limits, and the only thing I’d ever craved. It wasn’t fair, the way this story was unfolding for me, yet it wasn’t at all shocking. I never wrote happily ever afters, and Lucy would never be featured in my final chapter.

  “You’re overthinking something right now, Graham, and I urge you to believe in the opposite,” he told me. “Jane has been gone for almost a year now, and let’s face it—you never looked at her the way you stare at Lucy. Your eyes never lit up the way they do whenever she walks into a room. You spent most of your life struggling to avoid embracing a form of happiness, my son. When in the world will you allow yourself to be free of the chains you placed upon yourself? This life is short, and you never know how many chapters you have left in your novel, Graham. Live each day as if it’s the final page. Breathe each moment as if it’s the final word. Be brave, my son. Be brave.”

  I rolled my eyes and started walking down the steps. “Professor Oliver?”

  “Yes?”

  “Shut up.”

  18

  Lucy

  “I have to stop by the store to grab some diapers. I hope that’s okay,” Graham told me as he pulled the car into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour grocery store.

  “That’s fine.”

  He hurried inside, and when he came out, he tossed a few bags into the trunk and hopped back into the car. “Okay,” he said, putting the car in drive. “Which way do we go to get to the cabin?”

  “What?”

  “I said which way do we go? To visit your mother’s tree?”

  My chest tightened, and I shook my head. His words replayed in my head as I blankly stared his way. “What? No way, Graham. You’re already behind on your book, and I just can’t imagine having you drive that far just to—”

  “Lucille Hope Palmer.”

  “Yes, Graham Michael Russell?”

  “You’ve never missed a holiday visiting your mother, right?”

  I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “Right.”

  “Okay then. Which way do we go?”

  My eyes closed, and my heart beat faster and faster as I realized Graham wasn’t going to let this one go. I hadn’t even mentioned how much my heart ached not seeing Mama that day. I hadn’t even mentioned how hard it was to watch Susie and Karla love on their mother that evening. A tear rolled down my cheek, and a smile found its way to my lips. “You can take highway 43 north for two hours.”

  “Perfect,” he said as he pulled out of the parking spot. When I opened my eyes, I glanced back at a sleeping Talon, and my hands wrapped around my heart-shaped necklace.

  When we arrived, it was pitch-dark out until I plugged the extension cord into the outlet outside the cabin. The plug lit up the area with the white lights Mari and I had hung in December for our Christmas visit. Mama’s tree lit up bright, and I walked over to it, standing still as I watched the lights sparkle. I sat down on the ground and clasped my fingers, looking up at the tree. It was bittersweet, staring at the beautiful branches. Each day it grew was a day Mama was gone, but visiting her in the spring was my favorite time to come, because that was when the leaves began to bloom.

  “She’s beautiful,” Graham said, walking over to me with Talon bundled up in his arms.

  “Isn’t she?”

  He nodded. “She takes after her daughter.”

  I smiled. “And her granddaughter.”

  He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of licorice, making my heart skip a beat.

  “You picked it up at the grocery store?” I asked.

  “I just wanted today to be good for you.”

  “It is,” I replied, overwhelmed by his kindness. “It’s a very good day.”

  As we sat there staring, breathing, existing, Graham pulled out his cell phone and started playing “Rise Up” by Andra Day.

  “You said she might like it,” he told me.

  Once again, I began to cry.

&nbs
p; And it was beautiful.

  “Are we friends, Lucille?” Graham asked.

  I turned to him, my heart feeling tight in my chest. “Yes.”

  “Then can I tell you a secret?”

  “Yes, of course. Anything.”

  “After I tell you, I need you to pretend I never spoke of it, all right? If I don’t say it now, I fear the feeling will only grow, and it will mess with my head even more than it is now. So, after this, I need you to pretend I never said this. After this I need you to go back to being my friend, because being friends with you makes me a better person. You make me a better human.”

  “Graham—”

  He turned and placed sleeping Talon into her car seat. “Wait, just tell me first—do you feel anything? Anything more than friendship when we do this?” He reached out and took my hand in his.

  Nerves.

  He moved in closer to me, our bodies closer than they’d ever been. “Do you feel anything when I do this?” he whispered, slowly grazing the back of his hand against my cheek. My eyes shut.

  Chills.

  He moved in even closer, his small exhales hovering over my lips, his exhales becoming my inhales. I couldn’t open my eyes because I would see his lips. I couldn’t open my eyes because I would crave to be closer. I couldn’t open my eyes because I could hardly breathe.

  “Do you feel anything when we’re this close?” he asked softly.

  Excitement.

  I opened my eyes and blinked once.

  “Yes.”

  A wave of relief traveled through him and he reached into his back pocket, pulling out two pieces of paper. “I made two lists yesterday,” he told me. “I sat at my desk all day listing all the reasons why I shouldn’t feel the way I feel about you, and that list is long. It’s detailed with bullet points expressing every single reason why this—whatever this is between us—is a bad idea.”

  “I get it, Graham. You don’t have to explain yourself. I know we can’t—”

  “No, just wait. There’s the other list. It’s shorter, much shorter, but in that list I tried to not be so logical. I’m trying to be more like you.”

  “Like me? How so?”