Joey took off like a rock in a slingshot.
Quentin pulled Savannah into his arms, kissed her nose, and asked her to go with them.
She started to say she couldn’t, but how could she fully heal if she didn’t celebrate this day? She had known many of the kids who were graduating. Her parents would be there—her stepdad had sent her an email invitation to attend, which she had ignored.
“There’s going to be a special dedication to Brandon, Savannah,” Quentin said. “You should be there.”
The now-familiar sting of potential tears pricked the back of her eyes. A dedication. After ten years, they still remembered her brother. They wanted to honor him.
She looked into Quentin’s eyes. Their chocolate-swirled depths held a warmth and a familiarity that helped to steady the rapid fluttering of her heart.
“Of course I’ll go.” A knot swelled up from her gut, slowly creeping into her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to suppress it. Grief had kept her paralyzed for far too long. She could feel Brandon here in this town. He deserved to have his moment at graduation.
Quentin hugged her and kissed her on the top of her head. Joey soon rushed through the room, slipped into his sneakers, and shouted, “I’m gonna beat you!”
“Sorry, but I can’t lose to a six year old.”
Savannah laughed at the little boy glint in Quentin’s eyes as he turned away from her. He didn’t let go of her hand, though. She didn’t recognize the giggles coming from her throat as he dragged her out the front door, leaving messy dishes on the counter.
With the exception of the time it took to buckle Joey and settle Rocco into the back seat, Quentin didn’t remove his hand from Savannah’s the entire way to town.
And even though her palm was sweating and her fingers grew a bit tired and cramped, she didn’t try to pull away.
***
The graduation gathering turned into one giant reunion. Everyone she had ever known in town seemed to be fighting their way toward her. Didn’t take much to become a celebrity in this town, apparently.
Savannah’s mother was still, well, her mother, but they did exchange kisses on the cheek.
“That’s what you’re wearing to your brother’s graduation?”
Savannah felt herself blushing.
“I didn’t think about it.”
“Of course you didn’t.” Her mother then dissolved into a coughing fit, so Savannah rushed around to find her a drink of water, then rubbed her back until she regained her breath.
Savannah’s stepdad beamed like a lighthouse beacon when the president of the senior class showed him the buttons all of the students were wearing on their graduation robes. Brandon’s smiling face would walk down the aisle with each and every student there.
“Do you have your speech prepared, Quentin?” Savannah’s mother’s voice was almost charming, though still kind of cold, when she questioned Quentin.
Savannah turned to Quentin. “Speech?”
“Yeah, I may have forgotten to mention that.” His smile lit up his face. “I was kind of hoping you might want to share some words with the graduating class, too. Since he was your brother and all.”
“No. Absolutely not.” The temptation to run was strong. Be stronger, Savannah. “Why are you giving a speech?”
Her mother interjected. Savannah resisted the urge to tell her to back off and let them have their conversation. “He’s giving a speech because he is single-handedly responsible for the gift he’s unveiling for the town. In Brandon’s name.”
“What’s the gift?”
Before he could answer, Savannah looked over to the canvas draped monstrosity. Cranes stood next to the thing, presumably preparing to unveil whatever was underneath.
Quentin leaned down to whisper in her ear, “It’s a surprise.”
“Come on!”
“Nope. Not telling. The only ones who know are the people who built it, a few select members of the town’s planning committee, and your mother. Your dad doesn’t even know.” The twinkle in his mischievous eyes made her smile, even though she really didn’t want to. “I think Joey has some suspicions, but he gave up guessing a while ago, so I haven’t had to lie to him or swear him to secrecy. His attention span is still that of a talking teddy bear.”
“The ceremony will be starting in five minutes. Let’s go find our seats.” Savannah’s dad began to push her mom down the aisle toward their special seats of honor. Savannah fought tears at the kind gesture of the graduation planning committee. Gratitude warmed her heart.
“Come sit up there with me.” Quentin gestured to the stage where other speakers were seated.
She dug in her heels.
“No. Look at me! I’m not dressed for it. And I have nothing of value to say. I barely even graduated from high school. Didn’t go to college. I’m not someone who should be spouting off advice.”
“Wait one second.” Quentin dashed off, returning a minute later with a package. “Here. This is for you.”
She removed the graduation robe from the plastic. Full of wrinkles and kind of smelly. She smiled. “I can’t wear this.”
“Yes you can. For your brother.”
How could she say no to that?
She put the wrinkly garment on. Quentin affixed the cap to her head. She pushed her shoulders back, proud to live this moment for her brother.
And admittedly, for her, too.
In a trance of elation, she allowed Quentin to lead her up to the stage. She had never noticed how he could command the space so effectively, but when he introduced her to the superintendent and explained why she was here, she marveled at the respect everyone directed toward Quentin.
All of these official-looking people were on a first name basis with him.
The man could be mayor if he wanted to be. And yet he managed to make her feel like the honored guest.
He led her to her seat, squeezed her shoulders, then sat beside her. When her leg wouldn’t stop bouncing, he stilled it with an encouraging and discreet touch. His smile settled her nerves. And when he pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket and handed it to her, she didn’t know how to respond.
“I got this for you, but when you weren’t going to be here, I figured I’d give it to your mother. But now I want you to have it, and I’ll get another one for her later.”
Savannah opened the box and gasped at the gorgeous engraved portrait of her brother, set in a platinum setting with mini baseball-styled jewels framing the picture. The portrait was the same one on the sign at the mud park.
She had no words. Luckily for her, someone important (whose name and role she had already forgotten) began speaking into the microphone. Quentin fastened the necklace around her neck. She shivered when his knuckles grazed her sensitive skin. Later. Oh boy, she couldn’t wait until later. When she could get him alone.
She strongly suspected that he was responsible for the memorial at Brandon’s favorite play place. And now he had created something amazing on the town common.
Getting the approval for whatever it was couldn’t have been easy. The people of Healing Springs were notoriously anti-anything-new. They were willing to cater to tourists to keep a healthy economy, and they always voted to fund their schools and libraries, but Savannah clearly remembered a multi-year battle when some citizens wanted to make the town common pond available for ice skating in the winter. And when they wanted to add a little hut for selling snacks and hot cocoa to benefit local sports? Oh, the war that had ensued!
She tuned into the speech being recited by the woman at the podium when she heard Quentin’s name being called. He squeezed her hand before strolling confidently across the stage. Savannah scanned the audience to see who was whistling at her man. The search was futile—too many whistles and hoots and a thunderous applause for her to track down any particularly lusty ladies.
He turned to her and winked before he began to speak.
She had nothing to worry about.
But damn, did these people lov
e him!
Pride forced her to sit upright in her chair. Quentin had come a long way from the poor, neglected child of two not-great, alcoholic and drug-abusing parents. People had looked down upon him all his life. And now he stood in front of an adoring crowd, gifting them with something amazing. Something she was suddenly on the edge of her seat to learn of.
He had worked hard to build a financial foundation that would enable him to have the career of his heart—a low-paying profession as a paramedic—while still providing for his family and community.
“Are we ready to see what’s behind that canvas wall? I’ve heard rumors around town—you know who you are—that people are tired of looking at this construction site. Well let’s see if this gift from the Brandon Grace Memorial Fund and this year’s senior class looks better to all of you gossips out there. I hope to hear some nice rumors about it.”
The audience laughed and pointed fingers at one another in jest.
With a wave from Quentin, the cranes lowered the canvas.
The town let out a collective gasp and Savannah cried out in surprise. She clapped her hands over her mouth, sure the entire town was looking at her.
But no, of course they wouldn’t be.
Not when all eyes were drawn to the most amazing tree house she had ever seen in her life.
And it was an exact larger-than-life replica of the one Brandon had been building with his Legos when he died.
The town cheered. She leapt out of her seat and threw herself into Quentin’s startled arms, not caring a bit about the impropriety of it all.
“Thank you.” Her whisper was met with a tightening embrace.
When Savannah finally became aware of where they were and what this day was about, she pulled away and swiped at the wrinkles of her robe, mortified at her public show of affection and gratitude.
Daring to scan the audience, she noticed more than one person dabbing at their eyes or blowing noses.
Everyone loved Brandon. Even in his death, he represented the heart and soul of this town.
The band struck up a cheerful tune. Savannah inched her way toward her seat, but was stopped by the sudden silence of the band and Quentin’s voice over the stage speakers.
“Please welcome Savannah Grace to deliver some words of memorial. Savannah?”
Her feet tried to drill holes in the plywood stage. Her eyes threatened to deliver great harm to Quentin. But as he stood there before the entire town, beaming with pride, her anger and fear dissolved.
She stepped forward, completely unprepared, but eager to have this moment for Brandon.
“Thank you, friends and family, for giving me this opportunity.” Her voice squeaked. Someone from the back of the audience shouted out for her to speak into the microphone. She cleared her throat.
“Better?” A loud, high-pitched squeal from the microphone had everyone complaining and covering their ears. She looked helplessly at Quentin, who came over and adjusted it for her, then set her at ease with a smile.
“Let’s hope the third time is a charm.” Savannah’s voice sounded ridiculously loud to her own ears, but the vocal members of the audience gave her a thumbs-up.
“I’m thrilled to be here in the town that Brandon loved so much. Most of you had the privilege to know him. But for those of you who are new to town, you really missed out on one of the best souls you’d ever meet. If you asked Brandon what he would do when he grew up, he’d probably tell you something like, ‘I want to build tree houses for the children of Healing Springs.’ That’s the kind of kid he was. And that’s the dream that you brought to fruition here today.”
Savannah lowered her head, summoning the memory of Brandon’s smile to give her strength. She cleared her throat and continued.
“Graduates, your life isn’t just beginning—it’s been happening all along. Brandon would have walked this very stage today if not for a terrible tragedy.”
She cleared her throat again. You can do this, Savannah Grace.
“Thankfully, Brandon was the kind of kid who always lived as if the day was a gift to him. I wasn’t here to say goodbye to Brandon. Now I realize I don’t have to. He lives on in every one of us. In every one of you. In the very air we breathe. We may not see him, but he is here. He is in every kind word you share with a friend. He is in every hug, every handshake. His silly laughter carries on the breeze even now. Can you feel him?”
Tears pooled in Savannah’s eyes when a student in the second row raised her hand up to the sky, head back, eyes closed. The entire student body followed suit. A giant breeze blew, knocking unsecured hats off of heads and forcing a collective, “ooh,” out of the audience.
“See? He was always a trickster.”
The audience laughed and fixed their caps.
“You may think that I, as the big sister, did most of the teaching. I thought so, too. But boy was I wrong. What could I possibly have learned from an eight-year-old boy? I don’t have time to tell you everything. I know you’re all eager to get those diplomas and toss those caps in the air. But in honor of Brandon, I want to share a few things I’ve learned that I think can carry you all a long way on your journey.
“First of all, always pitch the baseball one more time. The person at the bat might just need one more chance.
“When someone you love is in a terrible mood, tell them the worst joke you can think of. They’ll laugh. Even ten years later.
“And finally, but most importantly, show the ones you love that you love them every single chance you get. This is one I’m still working on. It can be hard. Life can be painful. But living without the ones you love the most and always wondering if they knew what they meant to you is the worst kind of pain in the world. Don’t let yourself find this out the hard way.”
The only sound to pierce through the silence was the sound of sniffling and crinkling tissues.
Damn, this was a celebration and she had managed to depress everyone. She should have led with the hard stuff and left off with the advice about the jokes.
She took a deep breath.
“Thank you to everyone in Healing Springs, especially Quentin Elliot, for this amazing donation. Brandon would have given his approval. And even though you’re all graduating and thinking you’re all grown up, I expect to see you playing in that remarkable structure as often as you possibly can. Life is too short not to play!”
Applause swelled through the crowd. People started rising to their feet, groups at a time, until the entire audience—give or take a few elderly members—were delivering a standing ovation that she didn’t feel she deserved.
She looked to Quentin, whose teary eyes matched hers. He clapped harder than the rest.
He was the one who deserved the praise. Not her.
He walked toward her, clapping the entire way. He held his arm out and began to lead her back to her seat.
“Not so fast.” The principal of the high school spoke into the microphone. “Savannah, please come back here.”
She did as told.
“I wasn’t here ten years ago, but as I understand it, we have something that belongs to you.”
Savannah swore her heart had vacated her body. She couldn’t even take a breath. What was this?
An older gentleman stepped forward, and when he got closer, she recognized him as her history teacher. One of her favorites. He held out two diplomas and a hand for a handshake.
She didn’t know what to say.
“One for you, one for your brother.”
She held the diplomas tight to her chest, feeling the burn of love deep within.
“Thank you. So much.”
She stood like an idiot until Quentin came to her rescue, escorting her back to her seat like the gentleman he was.
Savannah continued to clutch the diplomas to her chest throughout the rest of the ceremony, grinning like a fool.
When everything was over and people were gathering together, Quentin pulled her to a hidden spot behind the stage.
“I
’ve been dying to get you alone.” His husky voice made every part of her tremble in a very needy way.
“We’re not exactly alone.”
“Close enough.” His lips lingered over hers for a torturous moment. His hands, warm and strong on her lower back, made her arch into him.
“I feel so naughty here. Just like the old days.”
“Yeah, we did do this a time or two, didn’t we?” He pulled her even closer, making the diplomas cut into her belly.
“Sneak away to make out? Um, yeah. All the time. Pretty sure I’m still grounded according to my mother and her threats of ‘indefinite grounding.’”
“Can we not talk about your mother right now?” Quentin growled.
“I think that’s exactly what we need to talk about. Because I’m sure they’re all looking for us. Especially since you left Joey sitting with them.”
His forehead bumped hers as he groaned in frustration.
“Fine, but later—you’d better be ready for me.”
That was a threat she could live with.
“Always.”
He stepped away from her in order to regain his composure before clutching her hand and leading her into the fray.
Savannah thought her face would crack under the intensity of her smile when Joey grabbed her hand and led her toward the tree house. The little bundle of energy had as much confidence as his father did. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she smiled even more when she noticed Quentin pushing her mother’s wheelchair.
“Joseph Brandon, you wait up, young man!” Savannah’s mother sounded stronger than she had lately.
Savannah turned toward Quentin, raising her brows in question. He had given his son her brother’s name?
He nodded and blew a kiss.
She smiled, feeling more at peace than ever before.
Serenity marked mother’s face. Her dad walked with lighter steps, grinning widely as he studied both diplomas as he walked.
“Wow, you thought of everything!” Savannah marveled at the design of the tree house. Not only was there a fabulous set of steps with rope handles, but a ramp spiraled around the tree as well, wide enough for a wheelchair.
Not Over You (Healing Springs, Book 1) Page 16