Grady nods to himself, clearly set in his own deduction.
That’s not my fault! He got there on his own. “And if things go according to plan, then that person I know might go to prison. For a really long time. And that might be a good thing. And so I should probably let it happen. But other people also might get caught in the middle.” At the thought of Harmony, I swallow hard. “Not legally so much as emotionally. Someone might even get their heart broken?—”
“You,” Grady says.
It’s not a question. I stare at him, at first taken aback, then for some reason furious that he should jump to this conclusion. “Why would you say that? That’s not ... No. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Anger is such an unfamiliar emotion for me that I feel out of breath. I never let myself get mad. I’ll go to all the other deep, dark, bad places. Sad. Scared. Broken. But somehow anger has always felt more dangerous. Somehow, even if I’ve never put it into so many words, I’ve understood that if I ever let myself go down that rabbit hole, if I ever let myself get truly, viscerally angry about everything that’s happened to me ... I might never stop.
“Haven’t you been listening?” I demand, and now I’m the one who’s frustrated with him. Ha! How does he like that? Not a lot, I bet. Feeling like you’ve let someone down is a terrible feeling. And, okay, the rational part of me knows Grady isn’t letting me down, that he’s trying to help me, but the person I really wish I could unleash all my anger on is too scary and possibly a federal criminal and nothere.
Grady looks at me like he understands all of this somehow. “Yeah. I’ve been listening. Seems to me like you’re worrying about everyone else and not nearly enough about yourself. As usual.”
That is just so ... not true. He clearly wasn’t listening if that’s the conclusion he’s reached. Without knowing what else to do with these feelings, I stick out my tongue at him and blow a raspberry. A loud, very unladylike one.
Then, unexpectedly, I burst into tears.
“You mad wee thing.” Grady takes me in his arms, letting me cry into his shirt.
It’s a cry I didn’t know I needed, but now that I’ve started, I realize that it’s been building up inside of me for a very long time. Since my parents died. Since I went to live with Uncle Aaron and Aunt Hope.
Since the moment I first saw Wes on set. Realizing Cass was never real. Watching Wes look at Harmony the way he used to look at me.
When I’m not so much a waterfall as a sprinkler, I sniffle and try to pull away, embarrassed that I’ve imposed on Grady for this long. To my relief, he doesn’t let me go quite yet. It’s been so long since someone offered me unconditional physical comfort. My uncle and aunt aren’t really touchy-feely people, and by extension, neither is their family. I try to put on such a brave face for my friends, they probably don’t know just how much I needed this. When I lost my parents, I missed the obvious things about them first. Their love. Their kindness. The time we spent together as a family, the fun things we did together, the good food and laughter. Our traditions. Our home. It wasn’t until much later that I realized the only people who consistently touch you throughout your day is your family. Hugs. Kisses on the forehead. Tickles. Leaning against each other on the couch to watch television. Holding hands when you walk down the street. When you lose those core people in your life, you lose those easy, unweighted touches. And once that’s gone, it’s like you stop being connected to anyone else.
I lost that when I lost my parents. But maybe now I’ve found it again, with my chosen big brother.
Lifting my chin, I do my best to give him a watery smile. “Thanks. I’m okay. It’s just been ... a lot to process on my own.”
“I’m sure it has been.” Grady gives me a meaningful look. “But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. And you know Helen and Matilda would do anything for you. Kimo and Thad, too.”
I do. I do know that. And I realize how lucky I am to have them, I shouldn’t take it for granted. But I also don’t want to ask them for more than they can give. I don’t want to be a burden.
“I’ll be fine,” I tell him, taking a step back. This time he lets me go, but I regret moving right away. He would have held me longer.Why can’t I just let him hold me longer?I’m too worried he’ll get annoyed with me, that he’ll think I’m asking too much of him. “It’ll all be fine.”
And it will be. I’ll ask Deja if I can work on the costumes back at the Lodge and not spend so much time on set. If I don’t have to see Wes and Harmony falling in love, maybe it won’t hurt so much.
Grady is still giving me that look, like he doesn’t quite believe me. He seems to war with himself for a moment before holding his hands up in the air. “Listen, tell me to fuck off if I’m out of line, but for what it’s worth ... love can be messy. It’s almost never convenient, and it sure as hell doesn’t ask if it’s a good time for it. You might think it’s not worth it, that you can live without it, that someone else’ll come along that makes you feel the way they do. That you’ll get over it. But in my experience? You don’t. Not completely.”
Experience? What experience? Grady’s never even hinted to me before about a romantic past, and for the first time, it occurs to me that he might have just as complicated a history as I do.
As if Grady senses he might have inadvertently given too much away, he barrels on before I can ponder it too long. “You’ve loved this fella for years already. That tells me it probably isn’t gonna change just by wishing it will. So now you have to decide what’s the bigger gamble: making a mess to be with him, or making yourself a mess by living without him.”
The words hang in the air for a long moment. I hear what he’s saying, I do. But I’m not someone who can just throw herself into a choice. I have to think about things, weigh out all the consequences in my mind. I need time to be alone with my thoughts. Ideally working on a project with my hands that lets my mind wander. Not for the first time, I desperately wish I had my sewing machine with me.
As if sensing my need for some space, Grady lets out a slightly too-loud sigh, signaling an obvious topic change. “Jesus. Scratch the food. I think I need a drink more.” He offers me a smile. “Don’t suppose there’s a pubaround here.”
I cast my mind over the various places I’ve seen around town. “There’s a place called the Pink Pony. Do you think that could be a pub?”
Grady pulls a face at me before he can catch himself. “Umm ...” He seems to be struggling with the right words before he finally shakes his head. “Nah. Just forget it.”
We turn around and start back toward the hotel. “There’s a diner that makes really good pie,” I offer him as an alternative.
“Ah, now. There’s an idea. Let’s get some pie ...”
Chapter 27
Wes
