Liam … whose skin is a lovely mixed shade of dark and light.
Liam … who was telling the truth.
***
“Believe me now?” He chides as we head downstairs.
I roll my eyes.
“Say you believe me.” He pokes my ribs.
“What? About your sister? Fine … I believe you.”
Liam throws up his hands, “Then why are you still being so salty? I didn’t cheat on anyone by writing you that note. I’m completely in the clear.”
I pause to consider. I guess in theory he’s right. The whole ‘buying me a cinnamon-bun apology’ was maybe even sweet.
But it doesn’t matter. I can’t afford to think like that anymore.
“Hey, I should really get going.” I say, “Sorry to crash your family thing.”
“What? What do you mean?” He chuckles, “I invited you.”
“I know,” I squeeze my arms together, “I just …”
Am pregnant. I’m sorry I came here Liam, but stop charming me. You don’t want me. Not all of me.
Dhara appears in front of me with a piping hot plate of something that smells delicious, “Come try my Gatte Ki Sabzi. You’ll love it!”
She disappears into the dining room and I glance at Liam, “Her what?”
He laughs, “It’s basically like spicy dumplings. Very flavorful. Have you ever tried Indian food?”
I shake my head.
“Oh my, we have to fix this. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried mom's cooking.”
I smile the slightest bit.
“But first,” He says, “I’m gonna need an apology. And you know what? I won’t even ask for a thank-you for the cinnamon bun I bought you. Since I’m a gentleman.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? You need an apology?”
“For the mean message on my phone.” He smiles smugly.
I roll my eyes, “Oh come on, it wasn't that bad.”
He raises his eyebrows. He whips out his phone and dials his voicemail, quickly setting it to speakerphone.
“Liam, this is Grace.” My voice bites out from the phone, “We met a few days ago in the Café, and you gave me your number. I just wanted to say how highly inappropriate that was, seeing as though you have a girlfriend — who I would be more than happy to contact for you about this, by the way. Please do not use this number to call me back, and for goodness sake, quit handing out your number to random — ”
“Okay, okay,” I hold up a hand, hoping the whole dining room hadn’t heard my snappy tone, “I’m sorry …”
“I mean,” He shrugs, “you’re welcome to tell Sakura on me if you want to.”
I purse my lips in frustration, “I thought … well, you know what I thought.”
“Yeahhh,” He admits, “I’m just being an ass. Come get some of my mama’s cookin’.”
I glance toward the door, and then back at the dining room. I really should leave … but the smells wafting through the house are all too enticing. That, and this family certainly has me intrigued. How did this mismatched group of people come to be?
“Well …” I say, “I guess I could stay for a few bites.”
***
I suddenly found myself squeezed between Liam and Sakura, and overwhelmed with the tableful of delicious exotic food.
It quickly became clear why Sakura had said, “Just wait until she meets dad.” When he came through the door (I am guessing from work) He kissed each of his family’s cheeks, one on each side, just as Sakura had done in the coffee shop. It was really a rather European thing to do.
I felt the siblings staring at me as I observed their father, who introduced himself to me as “Brent Cross”. His accent was purely American.
What is this family’s ethnicity?
“I’m sorry, what was your name sweetheart?” Brent says as he piles some veggies onto his plate.
“It’s Grace.” I smile.
“But what’s your full name?”
“Oh boy,” Liam says between bites, “Here we go.”
Unsure of what Liam means, I tell Brent, “Gracelynn Brielle Rains.”
“Ah, that’s a beautiful name. Very versatile.”
Liam shakes his head, “Dad studies the meaning of names. It’s like, his hobby.”
“Oh yeah?” I smile.
I learned what ‘the study of names’ is actually called once. Read about it in a book — if only I could think of it! I search my brain, trying to locate the name, and then it surfaces.
“Onomatology, right?”
Brent’s eyes widen as he looks at his family members, “Oh, I like her. I like her a lot!”
Sakura nudges me and whispers, “No one ever knows what dad’s hobby is called. Major points.”
I smile at that, enjoying Brent’s excitement, “So what does my name mean?”
“Well let’s see now … ‘Gracelynn’ means favor or blessing, or since you go by ‘Grace’, your name could be interpreted to mean simple elegance or refined. ‘Brielle’ appropriately means ‘God is my Strength’, and then the meaning ‘Rains’ would piggyback off the word ‘rain’, which you obviously don’t need a definition for.”
I slow my chewing, “Really? I mean … wow … I’ve always known what Grace means, and obviously my last name … but my middle name? Is it really ‘God is my strength’?”
“It is,” He smiles, “See? She appreciates my studies.”
“Totally!” I enthuse, “That’s pretty awesome you know all that off the top of your head.”
He straightens in his seat, and something about having made him feel important feels good to me.
“Well, let’s see here,” He says, pointing to Dhara, “My lovely wife’s name means ‘Earth’, and then Liam’s name means ‘Protector’, or ‘strong-willed warrior’. ‘Sakura’ means ‘Cherry Blossom’, and her middle name — ”
“Don’t say it,” Sakura interrupts, “It’s lame.”
“Her middle name is ‘Naoki’, and it means ‘honest tree’,” Brent blurts.
Liam snorts and Sakura buries her face.
The rest of the table bursts out laughing.
“Oh come on,” Brent nudges her playfully, “It’s not that bad.”
Sakura’s smiling now, “Why didn’t you guys change my name when you had the chance?”
“Because it’s a perfectly lovely name.” Dhara says affectionately.
My mind shoots back to all the times Rae and I have heard the exact same sentences from our mothers. What is it about mothers and insisting on the loveliness of our names?
I take a piece of bread, “So why the study of names, may I ask?”
Brent sits back in his chair, “Well, Grace, it honestly started for me where every good thing in life starts: The Word.”
I see Nanni stiffen, but Brent keeps on with passion.
“From the very beginning — in Genesis — God is already naming things right off the bat. He gives the sky it’s name … the light, and the darkness too. Later, God says he calls all the stars by name even — can you imagine?”
I brighten because I know the scripture he’s talking about. It’s the first scripture I ever read in Grandma Jackie’s Bible.
“He also calls us by name, you know. So no one can tell me that names aren’t important to God. And anything important to the man upstairs is important to me.” He takes a satisfied bite of his soup, smiling despite Nanni’s pointed reaction.
“What about you, dear?” Dhara says to me, eyes flicking briefly to her husband and then her mother, “Is there anything you enjoy doing?”
I swallow my last bite of food as every head turns to me.
“Well,” I smile, “You could definitely say my passion is natural medicine. Like, healing through herbal mixtures and essential oils. I love making natural products too. Soaps, candles, lotions — things like that.”
This piques her interest, “Really now?”
“Yes ma’am. I’ve also recently taken up yoga. I’m not ve
ry good yet, but I really enjoy it.”
Dhara’s eyes sparkle, “What rare qualities in someone of your age.”
I tell them about Hyssop N’ Sage and a few things involved in my work.
“An entrepreneur!” Brent claps, “You know, Liam is a bit of an entrepreneur himself. Why don’t you go show her?”
Liam shakes his head, “Nah, I don’t think she wants to see that.”
“See what?” I say.
“His shop.” Sakura supplies.
“You have your own shop?” I say, eyeing Liam.
“I mean, you can see if you want to.” He says.
Dhara begins collecting our plates for washing.
“Do you need any help?” I ask, standing.
“Oh no,” She smiles, “You go right along.”
I shouldn’t go with Liam. I shouldn’t care that he has a business of his own. I should leave and never think about him again. But that’s not what I do. When he puts on his shoes and invites me outside with him, I go.
***
“It’s a super long walk,” Liam says, nodding to a nearby building, “As you can tell.”
I pull my sweater snug against my torso, “That’s your shop?”
“My house, actually. My shop is attached around the back.”
As we near the front door, I glance back at his Parent’s place. It’s a comfortable walking distance, but still enough for him to have his own space.
“You like being this close to your parents?” I say as he jiggles the doorknob.
“Family is very important to me,” He nods, “And their property is beautiful, don’t you think?”
I glance around at the prairie and the rolling hills in the distance, “It is … you guys are totally secluded out here.”
“Our own little sanctuary,” He says as he pushes the door open. “My parents own all of the land out here. I was actually settled into an apartment in the city when they offered to let me build on the land and set up my shop here. I couldn’t resist.”
He flips on the light switch, illuminating the cozy little space inside. The place is much smaller than his parents grand abode, and there aren’t any decorative touches to speak of, but I can tell he seems to like it that way.
I follow him to the back of the house where he opens up what appears to be a garage door. It leads into a big room with concrete floors and metal cabinets. There are also strange looking tools and machinery I’ve never seen before, and a workbench with lots of drawers attached to it in the corner.
“Any guesses?” He grins at me.
“Ummm …” I say, scanning the tidy room for clues, “Not yet …”
He grabs my arm like an excited child and pulls me closer to one of the cabinets.
He takes a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks it, revealing rows of thin metal drawers inside.
I peek over his shoulder as he gently pulls one out. Inside, in little velvet-lined cubbies, twenty or so sparkling gemstones glint as they hit the light. My eyes widen at the beauty of them.
“You’re a jeweler.” I say.
“In my spare time,” He smiles. “I collect all of my materials myself from various places — antique shops, estate sales — things like that.”
I marvel as he takes out another drawer. It holds an abundance of pearls — all shapes, sizes, and colors.
“The ladies must really love you,” I tease, “You know what they say is a girl’s best friend.”
“Diamonds,” He supplies, taking out a gorgeous blue gem, “Although I’m really not sure why. There are far more valuable, far more rare gemstones out there. Tanzanite, for example.”
He places the gem in my hand nestled in its little protective case.
“That’s what this is?” I say, enchanted by the iridescent stone.
“Mm-hmm,” He nods, “If I were to make a necklace out of that particular stone, I could easily charge anywhere between five hundred and three thousand dollars.”
My eyes widen and I quickly hand it back to him, “Expensive things make me nervous. I don’t own anything that expensive, except for maybe my car.”
He smiles, accepting the gem, “I bet you will one day, if your man is worth his salt.”
“Oh man,” I snort, feeling heat creep into my cheeks, “Yep, I was right. All the ladies love you. Saying things like that.”
I imagine Liam whispering sweet nothings to each girl he brings to his shop. Thoroughly enchanting them with his jewels, making them giggle at the idea of a future with him.
He laughs, “Actually, I’ll have you know that most of my clients are men, thank you very much. So the ladies love the smart men who choose to trust me with their jewelry needs.”
He places each drawer carefully back in its place and locks the cabinet.
“Wanna see something really cool though?” He says.
I nod, and he directs me to another section of his shop - a huge safe I hadn’t noticed before. He twists the combination lock until it clicks open, and there within the vault lies some of the biggest crystals I’ve ever seen. A royal looking purple amethyst, some rough, crystalline gems I couldn’t name if I tried … all gorgeous and grand.
“Oh my …” I breathe.
“Did you know,” He says, presenting a small tray of polished stones, “Very much like names, every gemstone has a specific meaning assigned to it?”
My eyes fall helplessly over the beautiful stones, “I’ve always known that about birthstones, but I don’t know much beyond that. Honestly, I’m not even sure what mine is.”
“Oh yeah?” He says, “What’s your birthday?”
“April twenty-fifth.”
He selects a sparkling, clear gem from his tray and hands it to me, “Then your birthstone is a diamond.”
“Aww … That’s a bummer,” I say, turning the gem over in my hand, “We just got done saying how diamonds are so common … why couldn’t it have been the Tanza … Tanza?”
“Tanzanite.” He smiles, “But hey, diamonds are still a classic. Sure, they’re pretty common, but they’re still a precious gem. They symbolize purity and eternal love.”
I smile, shaking my head at the little gem, “It’s not that I’d rather my birthstone be more expensive or anything, just something with a little more color.”
He chuckles at this, “Fair enough.”
I hand the gem back to him and he places it carefully where it belongs. He closes the safe, pulls a stool from under his work bench and sits.
“So what got you into this?” I wonder aloud, “How’d you know you wanted to make jewelry?”
“My mother loves making jewelry. When she lived in India, she used to sell what she made at the market, and I guess she sort of passed that love down to me. It was one of my favorite things to do together when I was little — stringing beads. It’s sort of therapeutic.”
I smile, “That’s so sweet. I hope my child loves what I do.”
For a brief moment, I panic, fearing I’ve called myself out. Then I realize that’s a totally natural thing to say, even if you aren’t pregnant.
“That’s important to me too,” Liam smiles.
A few beats pass between us.
“So what do you think?” He says, leaning forward on his palms.
“About your shop?” I say, glancing around the space. It looks so ordinary, with all the plain looking cabinets and workspaces. You’d never be able to guess at the explosion of colors and sparkle that lies within them all.
“About everything.” He says, eyes intent on me, “You’ve met my family, experienced my mom's cooking … you looked so damn thoughtful throughout the whole thing, now you’ve got me wondering what you’re thinking up there.”
I laugh, “Thoughtful, huh? Well thank you, I think.”
He smiles, waiting for me to continue.
“Let’s see … your mother’s cooking is awesome. Definitely a good introduction to Indian food for me. Um, beyond that, I think I have more questions about your family than fully d
eveloped thoughts.”
He nods, “Right. Totally understandable. Shoot.”
“Ha,” I say, trying to decide what to ask first, “Okay, I can’t quite figure out the official nationality of your family … literally each of you are your own separate thing.”
He bursts out laughing. It’s a warm sound … like taking a sip of hot cocoa.
“Can’t argue there.” He agrees.
I lean against the wall comfortably, “So what exactly is your dad, then? I mean … not that it really matters, but now I’m just curious. He’s American, isn’t he?”
“Well, nobody is 100% anything, you know.” Liam says, “Everybody is made up of all kinds of nationalities, even if it’s just a small percentage. But to answer your question, my dad would be considered primarily American.”
“Okay,” I nod, “I’m with you. So what’s with the cheek-kissing thing your family does? I’ve always known that to be more of a European thing.”
“And you’re correct.” He says, “My dad loves, and I mean loves to travel. His parents used to take him traveling all over the world when he was little, and when he was old enough, he joined the Peace Corps. Spent two years of his time with them in Albania, took a short break, and then spent another two years with them in India, which is where he met mom.”
“Wow,” I say, “Suddenly I feel really unaccomplished in life.”
“Right?” He laughs, “I always do too. But to make a long story short, my dad was just enamored with his time in Europe. The area, the people, their customs and etiquette … everything. According to my Grandma on his side of the family, he came home from that trip doing the cheek-kiss greeting thing all the time. Both Sakura and I have grown-up watching him do it. She was quick to adapt it herself, but my mother and I, not so much.”
I nod, “Okay, so why didn’t you guys adapt it?”
He shrugs, “Mostly because Sakura’s a daddy’s girl, but it’s also just a personality difference too. There’s a lot of things that my mother does differently from my dad.”
“I think I noticed a little bit of that,” I say, recalling the tension at the table when Brent mentioned the Bible, “With her being native of India, I bet she has a different religion from him entirely, doesn’t she?”
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