Grace laughed, entirely embarrassed but also a little relieved. This was a conversation she could handle. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve just never eaten one before. I don’t know how to do it.”
Alma’s mouth fell open as she capped the lipstick. “You’ve never eaten a pomegranate?”
“No. I’ve had pomegranate juice, but I just haven’t eaten the fruit on its own. And I cut one open once, but I didn’t know how I was supposed to do it or what parts to eat, so I had to do some research.”
Alma laughed more than she had since she’d shown up at Raf’s apartment, somehow even more than when she’d been drunk off mimosas. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m aware.”
Alma’s eyes gleamed. “Have you tried it yet? After what you learned on the internet?”
Grace clicked her tongue, stalling. She knew there was no way Alma was going to let this go. “I haven’t had the chance.”
A sly grin spread across her best friend’s face. “Well, if something good can come from moping around my brother’s apartment, at least I can coach you to eat a pomegranate for the first time.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “That’s seriously not necessary. I think I can try it on my own. I don’t need assistance.”
“This isn’t a hero’s quest, Gracie. I’m here to support you in this time of need, as always. And I can’t wait to witness it.”
Grace let out a long sigh. “Really?”
“You underestimate how badly I need a distraction.” Alma brushed past her friend toward the kitchen, almost shouting. “Do we have pomegranates in the house right now? Let’s get this party started!”
Grace trailed behind her, shaking her head. She was trying to be there for her in every possible way, even if it meant eating a pomegranate for the first time like it was a form of entertainment.
Of course, there were pomegranates in the house. They were always there on the counter, waiting, taunting Grace on a daily basis because she didn’t know what in the world to do with them, even though Rafael always had them there in that pretty little bowl on the counter.
Rafael was working on his laptop in the living room when Alma made a mad dash for said pretty little bowl, taking a pomegranate in her hand and holding it out to Grace. “Do you know that story of Persephone?” she asked.
“Yes, Hades tricked her into eating the pomegranate seeds, and then she was stuck with him.”
“Half of the year in the underworld,” Alma added.
“Why do you two always seem like you’re up to something?” Rafael asked with a raised brow.
“Because we are,” Alma admitted.
“There are paintings about the myth,” Grace said quietly. “Woman with Pomegranate. That’s a good one.”
Rafael stood up and approached them. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Did you know that Grace has never eaten a pomegranate?”
Raf’s eyes locked on hers in that particular way they had. There was something so intense about his stare. She felt it travel through her body, like his eyes were all over her, like his look had made its way into her bloodstream. “I did know that,” he drawled.
“Well, she’s been doing her research, and we’ve decided?—”
“You’ve decided.” Grace groaned.
Alma clapped her hands together. “Come on, you know you want to, Gracie. It’s time to have a taste.”
It was a strange way to spend an afternoon, but there was no escaping it. Grace was about to eat a pomegranate in front of her best friend and her lover as if this were some kind of exhibition. Alma sliced the thing open on the top—which was a small mercy because cutting into it was quite a chore. The pomegranate looked like it had on YouTube, at least. No major surprises about the insides. So far, so good.
“Are we using the underwater method?” Grace asked, showing off what she’d gleaned from her deep dive on the internet.
“You really have done your research,” Raf laughed. “Haven’t you seen me do this before?”
She thought for a moment. She remembered him spooning seeds into his mouth, but everything that came before that was a blur. “I wasn’t paying enough attention, I guess.”
