There's a frown on my face and I'm sure it's been there for the past two days. Something is wrong with Grace, but she's not saying anything. She's been out of it since the day she went to see her sister.
"You won't eat?" she asks after glancing at my food.
"No. No Grace, I won't eat."
"Okay," is all she says before standing and clearing the table. She doesn't even take a jab at me or make a joke. She just moves around on autopilot.
I've asked her what's wrong, but she says she's fine. Yet she's been quiet. She's like a robot, and I don't know why. I'm frustrated and she doesn't even notice.
I glance at her plate of food and notice the untouched leftovers. It's been like that for the past two day-she's been leaving some of her food, saying she doesn't have much of an appetite. I watch her go from one place to another, no expression on her face as she moves merely to accomplish her tasks.
It truly hurts me to see her like this. I've tried to talk to her, to no avail. I've tried to give her some time, to no avail. I've tried to give her some space, too, thinking maybe she just needs to work through things alone. But no. Nothing has changed.
Ty and Nova have talked to me about it, concerned for their mother. I told them I'd see what I can do. The thought worried me all day until I determined that I would try again. I'm not giving her an out until she opens up.
She continues her robotic movements, not once looking at me. It's like I'm not here.
I watch her a little while longer before getting up. She's so absorbed with whatever is going on in her mind that she doesn't notice me come up behind her.
I place my hands gently on her forearms and she jumps, startled. She angles her neck to look at me but doesn't say anything. She only looks surprised, not even annoyed. There's not much emotion on her face at all.
"I didn't mean to scare you," I say softly. She looks at me a while more before nodding and turning back, ignoring me. Or rather, returning to that space in her mind. But I tug her out of it as I run my hands down her arms.
Grace goes still then gently shrugs my hands off, not saying anything. I wrap an arm around her waist. She shakes her head, her hands gently pushing my arm away. So I turn her around and step closer, bracing her against the sink.
Her eyes go to mine before falling away. My jaw clenches as I feel my heart dip. I take hold of her chin, but she shakes her head, looking away. I won't say it aloud, but her rejections hurt. Having someone you love reject you in such a way hurts.
"Grace." My tone is clear. I've been trying to be patient, but she needs to let me in so we can talk about what's going on. I thought we'd gotten past putting up walls. What's going on here? Obviously whatever happened was big.
"I should finish with the table. There's more to do," she says, her voice monotone. And then she tries to move. But I don't let her. She just stares ahead for a while before taking hold of my forearm and trying to push it aside. Being larger and stronger, I don't budge.
"I should finish with the table," she repeats in that same tone. I don't say anything but watch as she continues to push, not even looking at me. She stops, still staring ahead, but it seems like something cracks a bit within her. She blinks, then pushes with more strength.
"There's more to do, Joe," she says as if she's trying to reason with me. But I don't move. She pushes and pulls, trying to move my arm. The more she tries, the more she seems to realize that I'm not moving, and the more her walls drop. Bit by bit, I watch as they crumble.
Her brow furrows, her lips turn down, annoyance slowly paints her face, and I just watch.
"I need to finish with the table," she says, her actions more aggressive now. She's fighting, and I know it's not truly me that she's fighting. Anger comes over her face and she uses both hands now to move my arm.
"The table," she says. She shoves the palms of her hands into my reddening forearm. My hand slips from its place on the counter at the unexpected shove and she takes that chance to run, but I catch her waist. I bring her to me in one swift movement and she tries to get away.
Grace tries to remove my arm, telling me that she has something to do. It's the table-she needs to clear it. It's the dishes-she has to wash them.
I just hold her close. She's finally coming out of that place.
"Joe, let me go," she says, and I press my lips to her shoulder. She shudders. "Joe. Please," she says, her voice shaking.
"You're not going anywhere, Grace."
"Let me go." I don't and she gives a couple tugs to my arm before just settling with holding on.
"Joe. Joe . . . I can't."
"You need to let me in."
"I just-" She stops and I run a hand along her arm, kissing her shoulder again. "Joe . . . no," she murmurs, and it takes a second before she cries.
"You're alright, Grace," I murmur. She holds on tighter to my arm and I turn her around. Her head rests on my chest and her hands hold on tight to my shirt. I just hold her close. What had her closing in on herself like this?
It isn't until she's doing better, and we've moved to the couches that she opens up little by little, telling me what happened at her sister's home. I've been having this nagging feeling that Victoria knows what happened. And lo and behold, she does.
Yet I'm still surprised by the things Grace tells me that Victoria said to her.
"What?" I ask, feeling my anger rise. Grace sniffles and shakes her head.
"It's alright, I shouldn't be that upset anyways-"
"What do you mean?"
She rolls her eyes, acting unaffected. "She just said some words. That is nothing to cry about. Ha, we Nigerians have thick skin." She says all this, yet her eyes move away from mine.
"Your sister said things that she shouldn't have," I deadpan. She just waves me off.
"She was angry. If you think about it, she has a right to be angry."
"She insulted you."
"I should have told her about Rose. You told me that as well, and that was my own fault."
"Grace."
"If I had told her sooner-"
"Stop this." My voice drops and she looks at me. I take her chin in my hand. "We're not doing this. She insulted you, and that is not okay. I don't give two craps about thick skin, alright? It's me and you right now, and you don't need to put up an act. You don't need to act tough. Alright?" She opens her mouth as if to say something else about a Nigerian expectation, but then she nods, her eyes swimming.
"I don't want this happening again, okay? I don't want you closing me out like this. We're in this relationship together, but you need to let me in. So no more walls and no more pretending. I want you to be honest with me. Alright?"
"Okay," she says, her voice soft. I pause, then continue.
"What you did hurt, Grace."
Her eyes widen, and tears build in them.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"I know you didn't. I know."
"I just had trouble because I thought I shouldn't feel anything. But I also felt numb. So I wasn't sure how to deal with it. But it wasn't just that. It-" She cuts off, staring at me. Her mouth stays a bit ajar as if she's frozen. All of a sudden, it's like she just kind of closes up again, and I get worried until she gives a sad smile.
"The thing that hurt me the most that I didn't know what to do with was that . . . she told me if our mum were still alive. . ." She pauses and that smile still stays. A tear spills over her lower lid and down her cheek. "If she were still alive she'd be ashamed of me." Another tear follows, and I feel a deep dislike for Victoria root within my heart as I hold Grace in my arms.
"That's bullshit," I say, hearing the venom in my own voice. I'd like to go there and exchange words with Victoria. Yes, I get that she feels betrayed. I get that she is angry, but this was too much. She didn't even hold back with the things she said about her own sister. What kind of sister is she?
My hands rub circles on Grace's back and I just sigh. Although I thought things could likely go south, I hadn't expected this.
"Your mother was always proud of you, Grace. Never forget that."
"Why would she say that?" she asks, her innocent question coming out muffled as her face rests on my chest.
"She said it in anger."
"It really hurt," she admits and that hurt is clear in her voice. "Everything else did too, but that just hurt differently. I didn't expect it. I didn't expect it from her."
Neither did I.
"I'm sorry about that, love."
She snuggles deeper into my arms, and I bring her closer.
"It wasn't you, Joe."
I continue running my hands down her back and she falls silent. A thought suddenly comes to mind.
"Did she say all of that out of the blue or did something trigger it?"
I know that Grace has been calling Victoria, but she's never popped off at her until now. So what gives?
"No. I mentioned how I thought it might be better to do a smaller church wedding for now, and I also mentioned how I would like for Austin to be there."
I see. "And that triggered it."
"Yes." She says the word carefully, seeming to hesitate. If Victoria said all of this to her own flesh and blood . . .
"What did she say about Austin?" I ask. Again she hesitates. "Grace."
"Nothing good," she finally says.
"What exactly?"
"You might hate her, Joe. It's better to not say."
"I wouldn't hate her."
"You might dislike her even more."
"Who says that I dislike her?" I ask, and she peers up at me.
"Do you dislike her?"
I'll admit I have a tough time answering her question.
"I'm not fond of the things she said to you," I settle with.
"So you dislike her," she says bluntly.
"I believe she could have handled the situation better."
"Joe."
"I don't hate her."
She rests her head on my chest again.
"I don't want you to dislike her."
"The way I see it, that's on her."
"But Joe, that's not good. We shouldn't be feeling that way towards others," she argues gently, and I'm surprised.
"But the things she said."
"I know. You can dislike that, that's okay, but having that feeling in your heart towards someone doesn't help you. It's not right. I'm not just saying that because she's my sister either. If a stranger said all that she said to me, I wouldn't feel a fraction of what I feel now. I'm saying this because as Christians we have to be careful of the way we feel towards others."
"I don't think there's anything wrong with disliking someone, Grace."
"I think there is if you take into account the fact that we should always extend grace and mercy to others. I think the dislike comes when we fail to do that," She says, and I find myself frowning. If Victoria had said what she said to me, I wouldn't feel this way. But since she said it to Grace, the woman I love dearly, I am angry.
On one hand, I get what Grace is saying, and I'm in awe of her extending grace like this. But on the other hand, my flesh is saying that I have every right to feel this way, and I almost feel annoyed with her forgiving heart. She lifts her head to look at me again.
"All I'm saying is be careful, my dear. This can easily turn into hate."
I frown, noting her words.