Page 39 of The Gravity of Us (Elements 4)

He nodded once, and I walked by him before he spoke again. “It’s six in the evening.”

I turned around and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it is.”

“I eat dinner at six in my office.”

“Yes, I know.”

He cleared his throat and shifted around in his shoes. His stare fell to the floor for a few beats before he looked up at me. “Professor Oliver’s wife, Mary, sent me two weeks of frozen dinners.”

“Oh wow, that was sweet of her.”

He nodded once. “Yes. One of the meals is in the oven now, and she made each pan enough for more than one person.”

“Oh.” He kept staring at me, but didn’t say anything. “Graham?”

“Yes, Lucille?”

“Are you asking me to eat dinner with you tonight?”

“If you would like to, there’s enough.”

A moment of uncertainty hit me as I wondered if I was dreaming or not, but I knew if I didn’t reply quickly enough the moment would be gone in a flash. “I’d love to.”

“Do you have any food allergies? Vegetarian? Gluten free? Lactose intolerant?”

I laughed, because everything about Graham was so dry and serious. The look on his face when he listed each item was so stern and intense, I couldn’t help but giggle to myself. “No, no, whatever it is will be fine.”

“It’s lasagna,” he said, his voice heightening as if it might not be okay.

“That’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

I snickered. “Graham Cracker, I’m sure.”

He didn’t display any emotion, only one nod. “I’ll set the table.”

His dining room table was ridiculously large, big enough to seat twelve people. He set the plating and silverware at each end of the table, and he motioned for me to take a seat. It was hauntingly quiet as he served the meal, and he took his seat at the other end.

There weren’t many lights in Graham’s home, and oftentimes the shades were drawn, not letting much sunlight through at all. His furniture was dark too, and sparse. In his whole home, I was certain I was the brightest item to exist with my colorful clothing and outrageous, wild blond hair.

“The weather’s nice outside, ya know, for a spring day in Wisconsin,” I said after several minutes of uncomfortable silence. Weather talk was the blandest of bland, but it was all I could think of. In the past, that flavor of small talk had always helped ease any situation.

“Is it?” he muttered, uninterested. “I haven’t been out.”

“Oh. Well, it is.”

He didn’t comment at all, just kept eating his dinner.

Hmph.

“Have you thought about putting a garden outside?” I aske

d. “It’s the perfect time to start planting stuff, and you have such a beautiful backyard. All it would need is a bit of a trim and you could really brighten the place up.”

“I’m not interested in that. It’s a waste of money.”

“Oh. Well, okay.”