Naked Hope

by Rebecca E. Grant

  His jaw ticked. “They already know Olivia’s in your program.”

  “My point exactly. Their interest forces her back into a public figure. Just think what the press would be like if they knew we were involved. I’ll reconsider if you can name a place where you can guarantee—absolutely guarantee—you won’t be recognized.” Her finger pointed to her chest. “Or I won’t be.”

  “But ten weeks without this.” He pulled her roughly against his body.

  “You’ll be surprised how fast those weeks will fly by, and how exhausting they’ll be. Or how exhausted I’ll be. You won’t have a lot of free time. Olivia will require so much of your attention.”

  “She’ll have it,” he said then firmed his lips. “And when I travel, she’ll have Mother.”

  Traveling? Didn’t he just agree to unswerving commitment? Jill’s jaw dropped. “You’re traveling during the next ten weeks?”

  Gavin frowned and tucked his thumb into the waist of his jeans. “I have a concert in Chicago, just one day, and five days in New York. Adrienne’s rescheduling everything else.”

  Jill shook her head, disappointment tugging at her shoulders. “You’ve got to get on board with this, Gavin.”

  “We’re talking a total of two trips, six days.” His gaze skittered to the side and then returned. “Seven days at the most.”

  “That’s one entire week out of ten. When is the trip to New York?”

  “Second week in November.”

  Jill mentally calculated the dates. “That’s the week we’ll be reviewing her progress.”

  “So it’s beyond the assessment period.”

  “Yes. Technically.” She agreed. We haven’t even begun and already our agreement is starting to unravel.

  “Then the trip shouldn’t be an issue.”

  She pushed away and resisted the urge to pound his chest. “Do you understand Olivia is on a short leash? Almost everything weyou, I, and everyone else involvedwill do over the next ten weeks is for the purpose of stimulating diaschisis so uninjured areas of her brain linked to the injured areas can function again. Attempts at predicting the degree of recovery—or even the timeframe for recovery—remain crude. But a ten-week protocol is what I’ve found works best. You are crucial during this time period.”

  Needing distance, she sat back while he worked it through. Jill watched, taking in the set of his jaw, and waited. He had to understand this wasn’t something he could negotiate, or more than their relationship was at risk.

  “We have a lot of work ahead of us, Gavin. Olivia isn’t the only one who will have a protocol to follow. You’ll be retraining yourself for emotional cues and other indicators—yours and hers—to help recognize when either of you is struggling, or escalating. The training will also help you manage your expectation level as you accept the fact Olivia is no longer a musician.”

  A flicker crossed his face. His mouth flatlined. “Chicago and New York remain on the schedule. There won’t be any other distractions.”

  They were on rocky ground. Throat tight, Jill left the comfort of their shared lounger and walked to the edge of the deck. Looking out at the indiscernible line where sea and sky meet, she ached from missing him already.

  “Jillian.” He came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her.

  Together, they listened to the water, letting the soft breeze brush them clean.

  Into her hair, he whispered, “I can handle ten weeks. We’ll talk by phone? Wait, do you even check your voice mail?”

  Encouraged, she turned in his arms. “I’ll get better. And my email, too. Oh, and my laptop doesn’t have a webcam but if yours does, I’ll figure something out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gavin opened his eyes just before she did, aware that tomorrow he’d awaken alone. He looked up through the skylight at barest suggestion of clouds against a brilliant September sky and then looked at Jill, brushing her long hair from her shoulder.

  Her eyes opened. Emotion swam in their depths. She smiled and reached for him.

  He rolled on top of her and kissed the inside of her arm, drawing in her scent. His body hardened.

  She crooked her finger.

  He put his ear to her lips, further igniting the fire in him.

  “Waffles.”

  He chuckled, but resumed his former activity.

  “Waffles,” she repeated.

  “After.” He kissed the inside of her thigh and raised his head, this fingers kneading the back of her knee. “After.”

  She smiled. “After.”

  ****

  Gavin dropped the last of his luggage in the trunk. He looked around and felt the familiar tic in his jaw return. They were about to step back into their lives, and she’d told him they’d be apart for ten weeks. He should be enthusiastic—anxious to get started with Olivia. But all he could think was that he wanted to remain here with her, where the rest of the world didn’t exist. Where he didn’t have to feel guilty Liv was a mere shadow of her former self.

  He didn’t hear her come up behind him and at her touch, he whirled.

  “I called but you didn’t hear me.”

  He reached for her luggage. “I would have brought this down for you.”

  “Thank you.”She cuddled into him.

  “You’ve already thanked me.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “Not nearly enough.”

  She kissed him in a way that told him what she really meant. His iron-clawed depression loosened its grip.

  She ran her hand against his cheek. “You were so far away. Don’t leave me before it’s time.”

  Gavin tightened his arms and leaned her against the car. “How can you know me so well?” He might never have let her go, enjoying every curve of her body as if she’d become a part of him. Except an idea overcame him. He grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”

  They ran back inside. He positioned her in front of the stone fireplace. “Stay right there. Don’t move.” He walked upstairs, forcing himself into a calmer state, then leaned over the railing to make sure she hadn’t moved.

  ****

  As the first note drifted out into the open space, Jill’s skin prickled. She stood exactly where he wanted her to for a long time, listening to his music and feeling the way it lightened the air. After awhile, she moved to the foot of the stairs to watch him, and had to cover her mouth to keep from calling out. Sunlight streamed through one of the skylights, illuminating the man as the melody he created rose upward until it mingled with the sun’s rays and transformed into an aura of lavender and gold. The aura hovered, then burst like fireworks into shimmering flecks of light and rained back down on every room of the house.

  Her brain wondered if she was suffering from a ruptured aneurism, but this was no aneurism. She’d seen his very soul.

  They didn’t talk until he’d closed the piano and locked the door. “Feel like driving?” He handed her his keys.

  She studied his face. He looked peaceful and a little tired.”Of course.”

  They traveled in silence for the first twenty miles. Finally he said, “My music has never been like that before.”

  “Like what?”

  He glanced out of the corner of his eye. “As if I could create music that sounded like color.” He shifted his long body and ran his hand over her thigh. “How about if I drive?”

  She countered. “How about if I keep driving, and you talk.”

  “You like her, don’t you?”

  “If you’re referring to your car, which I might point out has no gender, then yes, it’s a dream to drive.”

  “We’re coming up on a wayside rest.” He pointed. “Pull over.”

  “Oh no, cowboy. You think you’re driving, but you handed me the keys, remember?”

  “Take the exit and we’ll see if you still feel like driving.”

  She glanced over in time to see that his eyes were dancing and pulled into the deserted rest area.

  Gavin reached around in front of her and tipped
her seat back. “Enough talking. This is still our weekend.”

  He kissed her with the expertise of a practiced lover, and the single-minded focus of a seventeen year old boy. His kisses were a gentle, probing, sensual exploration. Jill’s breath caught.

  “You haven't said it yet,” he murmured, bringing his mouth down to rest just above her breast.

  Senses reeling, a soft groan escaped her. “What would you have me say?”

  “That you’re my girl.”

  She stretched and teased, “Really? Why would you think that?”

  A thousand expressions flashed across his facenone of them good. His eyes darkened, his body grew stiff. Too late, she remembered Olivia hadn’t been the only one to be rejected by Vivienne.

  He opened his mouth.

  But she rushed in. “Gavin.” She planted kisses like seedlings into his neck. “You are arrogant, at times domineering…” She rendered more kisses, all the while continuing her softly uttered insults. “But I wouldn’t have you any other way. Of course, I’m your girl.”

  ****

  The hour was late in the afternoon when they rolled into the Fairfield drive. He saw Jill’s tightly folded hands and the set of her jaw. “You’re apprehensive,” he observed.

  She nodded. “The conversation I’m holding with you and your family tonight is about Olivia and the structure she’ll need.”

  “You think I won’t like what you have to say.” His stomach tightened.

  “I think this new routine—these requirement—will be challenging for all of you.”

  He tapped the steering wheel. “You’re in charge. I’ll follow your lead and support you any way I can.”

  “To be very clear, you will not be supporting me.”

  He flicked his wrist. “I meant I understand the difference between the time we just spent together, and your role as someone who enforces”

  “I won’t enforce.” Her gaze zeroed in on his eyes. “I set the protocol. She’ll be working with an entire team. Her teachers will teach, her therapists will guide her and direct you, analysts will interpret the data, and everything rolls up to me. But no one at the institute enforces.” She dipped her chin. “That’s up to you.”

  His jaw ticked. “But you determine whether your protocol is being followed. Whether Olivia remains eligible for your program.”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed, aware the magic of their weekend transformed from reality into memory, the moment she said yes.

  ****

  They gathered around the oval table in the Lawrence’s study. Jill looked into the expectant the eyes of Lawrence, Edith, Baines, and finally Gavin, detailing what would be required of them as Olivia’s support system. “Let her do things herself. Give her room to work them out. Set boundaries. Be there. Love her. And the biggest change and greatest challenge for each of you will be to understand there is to be no mention of her music.”

  Gavin’s eyebrow jumped.

  “Olivia translates every mention of music into pressure.” Jill folded her hands on the tabletop. “Pressure becomes expectation. When she can’t meet what she perceives as the expectation of others, she becomes frustrated and depressed. From this point forward, she is not Olivia the child prodigy—the musician. She is Olivia, a ten-year old girl who needs to get back her childhood. You’ll all help her reestablish an appropriate level of independence and find constructive ways to express herself—verbally and behaviorally.”

  Edith leaned forward. “She often joins Gavin in the music hall and tries to play. Should access be restricted?”

  Gavin turned away.

  Jill nodded, noting Gavin’s withdrawal with an impatience she tried not to show. “Excellent question. If she’s always had access to the music hall, then that should continue. If she sits at the piano to play, and this is consistent with what she did before, that can continue but shouldn’t be encouraged. If she plays and becomes frustrated, suggest she find something else to do, just as you would with any other child.”

  Gavin whirled. “But she’s not any other ch” He clamped his mouth shut.

  Jill slid her hands under her legs to keep from showing her impatience. “Very true. She’s not like any other child. She’s a child who has TBI, and who needs support to discover who she is today.”

  “So, if she asks me for help, or to listen to her play, what should I do?”

  His mouth tightened and he looked as if he might be sick. “Are you talking specifically about music?”

  He nodded.

  She gripped the seat of her chair. “Let her know you’ll be happy to help her find a project or some other distraction. She may become frustrated and keep at you. If she does, you need to be the parent, and inform her you expect her to move on to some other activity.”

  Edith cleared her throat. “I struggle to think of her differently—we’re so used to the child being a musical phenomenon.”

  Jill noticed her lids looked heavy with a deeply held grief. “You already have fifteen months of experience under your belt thinking of Olivia differently than before the accident. Starting tomorrow, you’ll make yet another shift, because the time has come for Olivia to discover who she is, now.”

  “But how?” Gavin’s jaw ticked as he raked his hand through his hair.

  “By doing what you all do best—by loving her. By being a father—one who sets boundaries and gives instruction appropriate for a ten-year old child—and who has absolutely no musical expectation of her.” Jill paused and made eye contact with each of them before continuing. “This will help her to heal emotionally, intellectually, and artistically as she comes to terms with the many losses she’s sustained at such a young age, not the least of which is her creative expression.”

  She placed her hand over the top of his. “Olivia has your temperament, Gavin. She expects a great deal of herself. Her self-imposed pressure is greater even than what she perceives from you. If you encourage her or try to work with her, the result will be disastrous.”

  When the meeting was over, Jill left the room, exhausted and glad to be done.

  They were quiet during the return trip. Occasionally, one would say something, but for the most part, they maintained a sober silence.

  Once he said, “No web cam. No camera on your tablet, either?”

  Relieved he still wanted to stay in touch after what they’d just been through, she answered, “No, but I’ll get something worked out.”

  He glanced her way. “You’re absolutely certain about this ten-week thing?”

  Her stomach flipped. He’s actually going to accept this. She sighed and tipped her head back. “Not at all. And absolutely.”

  He reached for her hand and kissed her fingertips.

  At her door, he held her close and spoke low into her ear. “Jillian, you want me to stop hoping because it creates an expectation too burdensome for Liv to manage. I get that. But you’re wrong about one thing. I can have hope without expectation. I’ll follow your protocol to the letter, but I’ll never, ever give up hope. Not even for you.”

  Her chest constricted and she pulled away. The loss of his warmth collided with her words and caught in her throat. “Oh, Gavin…”

  “Listen to me, Jillian. I haven’t told you this before, but I’m telling you now. I know from personal experience what being cut off from music is like. I wasn’t much older than Liv is now when I knew music was the only thing that mattered. But my parents cut me off. Dad wanted me to go into the family business and Mother, well, she had her own reasons for wanting me to forget about music. The story is long and ugly and not worth going into right now. My point is Liv tries to play every day. I have to believe she still longs to be a musician. If there’s any chance she can get back her talent, then that’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  He kissed her like the lover he’d become, and left, the car’s engine roaring in the still night. She wondered how she could be apart from him for ten weeks, and just how soon the whole thing would blow up in t
heir faces. He intended to keep his promise.

  But would he be able to?

  Chapter Fourteen

  When she arrived home from the first day of the fall term, she spotted a man waiting outside her door.

  “Hi, Dr. Cole? You should have gotten an email from a Mr. Fairfield. You know him?” The guy’s eyebrows rose. “Anyway, I’m Tom, the tech guy, here to deliver a new smart phone, tablet, and laptop.”

  Jill gaped.

  “So, if you’ll point me in the right direction, I’ll get started.”

  “Everything’s upstairs,” she said, pointing to the stairs and wondering whether she was more impressed with Gavin’s ability to take swift action or irritated he hadn’t given her a head’s up.

  In her loft, he said, “We’ll put some extra firewall protection to make sure your web-camming and face time is private. Shouldn’t take me too long.”

  That night as Jill looked into Gavin’s grainy face via webcam, she saw how much he already missed her, too. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “You’re full of surprises.”

  He grinned and rubbed his five o’clock shadow. “You were busy with the term starting, and I wanted to see you tonight. So, I called in a few favors. They told me Tom’s the best.”

  “Very thoughtful of you, Gavin. Thank you.”

  “Liv couldn’t stop talking about school today. She says Wonder’s a big hit.”

  “Wonder’s not the only big hit. Olivia’s team is already quite impressed with her. Dr. Lauren told me she had a solid start.” Jill twisted the sapphire stud in her ear. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Really? You couldn’t be happier?” Gavin drew his eyebrows together.

  “About Olivia,” she amended.

  He tapped the screen. “This isn’t the same.”

  Her gaze rested on the grainy resolution of Gavin’s full mouth. She reached out to trace it, but dropped her hand. This was only day one of seventy-three. How much harder would this be tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that? She breathed in, hoping she sounded reassuring. “But yet so much better than if I could only hear your voice.”