Come to Me Alive

by Leah Atwood

  Bryce let out a long breath, a touch of sadness to his voice when he spoke. “It’s more than that Sophie. When Gracie wakes up, I’m going to find a place to eat. I need some fresh air.”

  “I’m sorry. My last comment was uncalled for, but I don’t know what you want from me.” She felt horrible that her frustration got to her.

  “Acceptance. Of all of me, not just that parts that are easy.”

  His words cut deep because she knew he was right.

  Despite her good intentions, in the aftermath of the paparazzi showing up, she hadn’t handled his career too well, choosing to push aside that part of his life. She’d converse with him about it if he brought it up, but she didn’t ask questions, didn’t seek out information and didn’t put herself in a position where she’d have to face it.

  And Bryce knew. There was no fooling him. They both knew she had no intentions of going to the fundraiser last month, even if she hadn’t had one of her own.

  Eventually, she’d have to deal with her issues.

  Avoidance wasn’t the solution.

  Leaving her comfort zone and supporting him was.

  “I’m trying,” she told him again, unable to take that step and tell him she accepted all of him.

  “Let’s just get something to eat and we’ll discuss it later. This weekend is supposed to be fun and I don’t want to ruin it with an argument.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, content to let the subject slide for now.

  “I have to go potty, Daddy.” Gracie had woken up and was rubbing her eyes.

  “We’re going to stop in a few minutes, Sweet Pea.”

  “Can we eat too? I’m hungry.”

  “That’s our plan.” Looking in the rear view mirror, Bryce smiled at his daughter.

  An action that made Sophie feel even worse than she already did, because it was a reminder that he had a big heart and a large capacity for love. He might have the more tarnished past, but he was the one who currently exuded faith and goodness.

  A blue sign became visible on the side of the road, displaying logos for two popular chain restaurants.

  “Either of them sound good?” Bryce asked, his tone lacking its usual warmth.

  “Both are fine. Whichever is least busy, I guess.” Her own voice mimicked the indifference in his.

  The remainder of the ride to her parents’ continued much the same way. At the restaurant, they put on a happy front for Gracie and again for the last few hours of the drive. They went through the motions, said the words, but something between them was broken, fractured by her unwillingness to give their relationship her all.

  Chapter 20

  Sitting up in bed, Bryce dragged the pillow in front of him and pounded the fibers with his fist. He should have kept his mouth shut, but when Sophie had started talking about going out of his comfort zone, he couldn’t help it. It was a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black. He loved her—there was no doubt about that, and he wasn’t giving up. More prayer and patience were the only solutions which came to mind. They weren’t bad ones, but that’s what he’d been doing for months.

  Tonight was the first time he’d expressed those feelings to her, and man, did he have bad timing. This weekend was supposed to be fun and a break from their daily lives, but their argument on the way cast a damper over it. They’d put on smiles for Gracie and Sophie’s family, but a chasm existed between them.

  As far as he could tell, her parents didn’t notice anything odd between them and Mia was still too star-struck at the sight of him to perceive any tension. Maybe it was a good thing they’d arrived so late. There had been little time to talk before everyone went to bed. With any luck, a good night of sleep should help them sort through this. Tonight, they’d been tired, which, for sure, helped escalate their annoyance with each other.

  Her comment still stung. Did she really think he was that self-absorbed? He’d be the first to admit, at one point, yes, he’d been pretty selfish, but he never expected anyone to kowtow to him.

  A long, drawn-out sigh gave him little respite. Every couple argued at times, right? One little squabble wasn’t any indication of a greater flaw between them.

  Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he glanced at the clock on the screen. 12:08. Happy Birthday to him. The newly finished basement smelled of fresh paint and the scent amplified with each passing minute, giving him a headache. Any other time, it wouldn’t have bothered him, probably, but his senses seemed to be on alert from the argument with Sophie. His throat went dry and he couldn’t swallow. He should have brought a bottle of water down with him. Sleep wasn’t meant for him. Giving up, he got out of bed and trudged barefoot up the steps leading out of the basement, using the flashlight app on his phone to light the way.

  Sophie’s mom had told him to make himself at home, but he didn’t feel comfortable wandering around, especially in the middle of the night. Ha. There was a time his night would just be beginning. This time next week, he’d be escaping whatever venue he was playing at for the night. But for now, he had a semi-established routine he tried to follow, even if sleep quite often eluded him.

  The basement stairs led to the dining room. He crossed the room, stubbing his toe on the foot of a chair, stopped to shake out the pain, then went to the kitchen. Opening the right side of the fridge, he took out a bottle of water from a shelf in the door. He twisted off the cap, tilted it bottom-up, and drank half the bottle in a single gulp, relishing the feel of ice cold water gliding down his parched throat.

  Much better. A nightlight on the microwave illuminated the kitchen, and he turned off the phone’s flashlight. He pulled out an iron chair from under the small breakfast table and sat down. He wondered how Gracie was doing. Not checking on her when he was in the same house was a foreign concept, but she was sleeping with Sophie, so glancing in wouldn’t be appropriate. She’d been so excited about the princess sleeping bag Lisa had bought her. In the morning, he’d hear all about it again.

  “Bryce?” Sophie entered the kitchen, calling his name softly “What are you doing up?”

  “Couldn’t sleep. You?”

  “Same. Mind if I sit?”

  “Go ahead,” he told her, lacking conviction.

  She sat down at the table with him. “Happy Birthday.”

  A small smile curled his lips. “Happy Birthday to you, too.”

  “Can we try to put some oomph behind the happy?” She looked at him through large, round eyes, her shoulders hunched. The overall effect reminded him of a puppy he’d had as a child, after he’d chewed up his favorite tennis shoes.

  “Yeah, we can.” He rubbed at a knot in his neck. “Can we forget about the things we said on the way here? I hate this strain between us.”

  “Me too, but we have to talk about it. We can’t just shove it under the carpet and pretend it didn’t happen.”

  He groaned, even though she was right. “We can’t? At least not until later?”

  “No, because you were right.”

  “Hold on. Did a woman just admit the man was right?”

  “Oh, you!” She harrumphed and pursed her lips. “I wish I had something to throw at you right now.”

  Playing along, he tossed the bottle lid at her, hitting her shoulder.

  “Did you really throw a cap at me?” She giggled and fumbled around, searching for the object that hit her.

  “Maybe.” Something hit his cheek. “Ouch. You got me in the cheek.”

  “All’s fair in love and war.” She winked then ducked as he threw it back her way.

  “Is this love or war?” His voice dropped low and husky.

  Sophie blinked. “Never war with you. Always love.”

  In an instance, he was by her side, pulling her up and into his arms. Breathing in her hair’s subtle scent of vanilla, he trailed his fingers through the silky strands.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “You’ve been nothing but supportive of me, but I haven’t shown the same to you.”

  He took a ste
p back and held her at arm’s length. “Do I really come off like I expect everyone to cater to me? Tell me the truth.” He had to know.

  “No, not at all.” She wiped at a tear. “I was hurt and defensive because I knew you were right. I never should have said that.” She flattened a palm against his chest. “You, Bryce Landry, are the humblest, least self-absorbed person I’ve ever met.”

  “You threw me for a loop when you said that. With God’s help, I’m trying to be a better person. I’ve never denied the mistakes I’ve made, but when you said that, I couldn’t help but wonder if I am still messing up.”

  “Forget I ever said it, please. Can we go outside and talk?” She glanced toward the steps which led upstairs. “I don’t want to chance waking anyone, but I’ve done a lot of thinking the last two hours and had an idea.”

  “Lead the way.” Releasing her, he slid his fingertips down her arm until they connected with her hand.

  They went outside, sitting on the deck’s steps. In the sky, the moon shone bright, unobstructed by any clouds. Stars sparkled and twinkled, and the smell of fresh-cut grass from someone’s lawn still permeated the air. Probably the last cut of the season.

  Sophie leaned her head against his shoulder. “The sky reminds me of the night you first kissed me.”

  “The sky’s not what I remember about that night.” As if he needed a reminder. A kiss had never twisted his insides like the first one shared with Sophie. She was special, so much more than she realized.

  “Before you left that first time, you gave me the chance to back out of a relationship with you. You warned me every way possible that it wouldn’t be easy. Like a naïve woman in love, I ignored you, not wanting to think about anything that could hamper us.”

  She paused, but he didn’t say anything, sensing she was gathering her thoughts, courage for what she had to say next.

  “I truly thought I could handle anything that came along, until the TEW crew showed up. Honestly, it freaked me out even more than I admitted. For the first time, I didn’t know if I could accept the world that came with you, but I knew I couldn’t lose you. So I did the only thing I could, and blocked that part out. I knew it wouldn’t work for long—tonight was proof of that.”

  “You could have openly told me, instead of letting me figure it out on my own. Where does that leave us now?” He held his breath, waiting for an answer.

  “I want to be a part of your world. All of it.”

  “Do you mean it?” he dared to ask.

  “Yes.” She shivered, and he put an arm around her. “What do you think about me coming to the last concert on your tour? Since it’s on a Saturday and in Baton Rouge, the arrangements should be simple and it would be a good way to begin.”

  He smiled slowly, raising an eyebrow. “I never told you the last stop was in Baton Rouge.”

  “I looked it up since I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, casting her gaze downward in an act of shyness.

  Cupping her chin, he guided her face back to make eye contact. “That means a lot. Thank you.”

  “Can you promise me one thing?”

  “What?”

  “Chances are, I’ll freak out again and try to back away. If I do, promise me you’ll hold on tight and remind me of this night, this promise. Because I promise you that I love you and will do what I need to make our relationship work for both of us.”

  “I promise.” The weight lifted from his chest. Prayers were being answered. “Now it’s a happy birthday.”

  Off in the distance, a train whistle blew and a dog howled. A cloud shifted, blocking a portion of the moon and darkening the sky. Still, he didn’t break contact with Sophie. Mesmerized, he couldn’t tear away his gaze and lowered his lips to hers.

  A light from the kitchen startled them. Sophie jerked away, and the moment was gone. Both of them looked toward the house and saw Alton at the sink, filling a glass with water. He took a drink, dumped out the rest, and turned the light off, leaving the room.

  “Who knew your parents’ house was so active at night?”

  Sophie giggled. “Do you think he saw us?”

  Shrugging, he answered, “What if he did? It’s not like we were doing anything wrong.”

  “I know. But it was still a private moment that…”

  “Will stay between us and only us,” he finished. “But we should go back inside and get some sleep. Morning will come early and Gracie will be full of energy after sitting for so long today.”

  “You’re right, but I can’t help wishing we could stay out here all night. Have you noticed our best conversations happen when we’re outside?” She leaned back against a wooden post of the deck, staring out into the blackness.

  “There’s a raw element that breaks down barriers when you’re outside, no walls to hide behind.” He watched her for several moments then stood, offering assistance to help her up. “Let’s get inside. We have the whole weekend together.”

  She accepted his help and stood. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Happy Birthday,” he called softly, as she walked through the door.

  Turning her head, she looked back with a lazy smile. “You too.”

  A short time later, he returned to his temporary bedroom in the basement, taking the near-empty bottle of water with him. The paint’s scent didn’t bother him nearly as bad as it had before and the air felt lighter. Laying his head on the pillow, he fell asleep in record time.

  He awoke the next morning, well-rested but disoriented. In a state of semi-consciousness, he scanned the unfamiliar surroundings until his brain caught up with his body and he remembered he was at Sophie’s parents’ house. He got out of bed, exchanged his sweats and stale T-shirt for a fresh T-shirt and jeans, grabbed his hygiene pack and went to the basement half-bath. His hair was a mess, sticking up all over the place—he needed a haircut. Splashing water over his bedhead, he dragged a comb through until he looked presentable. Shaving could wait. He brushed his teeth, looked a final time in the mirror and went upstairs.

  “Happy Birthday, Daddy!” Gracie ran toward him and gave a jumping hug.

  Hoisting her higher, he swung her around. “Thank you, Sweet Pea. How’d you sleep?”

  “Great. I love my new sleeping bag. Can I take it home with me?”

  “That’s up to Mrs. Lisa.”

  “She’s making us breakfast.”

  He gave Gracie a smile and set her down. “I thought I smelled something good.”

  In the kitchen, Sophie’s mom stood over the stove, using cooking tongs to move items around in a cast iron skillet. To her right was an electric griddle on the counter with fluffy, tan pancakes cooking on it. Sophie sat on a barstool at the island, sipping from an olive green ceramic cup.

  “I’d offer you some coffee, but there was an incident this morning that claimed the remaining grounds. Dad ran out to the store to get more and should be back soon. There’s hot water for tea if you’d like some.”

  “I’ll wait for coffee. An incident?”

  Lisa turned around, her cheeks arched from her broad smile. Sophie shot her a warning look.

  “Don’t say a word,” he saw her mouth to her mom.

  His gaze travelled between mother and daughter. There was a story there somewhere and his curiosity was piqued. He tapped his forefinger against his chin. “Oh, I think she should tell me.”

  Leaving the chair, Sophie came over and gave him a hug. “Happy Birthday.”

  “Distractions won’t work,” he teased.

  “Miss Sophie poured the coffee grounds into the pancake batter and flour into the coffee pot.” Innocent Gracie spilled the beans.

  He wasn’t sure what he expected to hear, but it wasn’t that. Clamping his lips to keep from laughing, he gave Sophie a look that asked if that was true.

  “Mom distracted me,” she defended herself as her cheeks turned a deep crimson.

  “She was talking about you.” Gracie offered up more information, unaware it wasn’t to be shared.
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  “All good, I hope.” He threw Sophie a wink, unable to resist ribbing her some more.

  Gracie started to talk again, but Lisa intervened. “How would you like to flip the next batch of pancakes?”

  “Really? I can?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Come here and I’ll show you how to do it without squishing or dropping them.”

  Sophie gave her mom a grateful look, then led Bryce into the living room where he hoped they could be alone for a few minutes.

  “Where’s your sister?” he asked cautiously.

  “Still in bed, but don’t worry. Mom warned her no internet posts or pictures about you or this trip.”

  A wave of relief washed over him. Not that he disliked Mia. He didn’t know her all that well beyond what Sophie told him, but after the fallout of their first meeting, he was apprehensive. Sophie’s acceptance of his fame was slow-going—he didn’t want anything to jeopardize the progress.

  Still mischievous, he grinned and crossed his arms loosely over his chest. “So what were you saying about me that had you so distracted?”

  “You’re a scoundrel.” She swatted him on the arm with a light touch.

  “Not the first time I’ve been called that.” Chuckling, he sat down on the sofa.

  “Just for that, I’m not giving you your present.”

  “Oh well,” A shrug completed his act. “Just kidding.” He scooted forward until he sat on the edge of the cushion. “What did you get me?”

  “You’re not getting it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said in a pitiful, pouting voice.

  “Fine.” She drew the word out for dramatic effect. “But you have to wait until after breakfast.”

  “Man, you drive a hard bargain.”

  “And you’re worse than a kid,” she shot back.

  An impish grin graced his face. “But you like me.”

  She laughed. “You’ve got me there.”

  The front door opened. Alton walked in with a yellow plastic grocery bag slung over one arm and a tray of Styrofoam cups in his hand.

  “Coffee man’s back,” Alton called out.

  “Ah. The sweet smell of caffeine.” Jumping up, Bryce followed the scent of freshly brewed java, with Sophie right behind him.