by Lynn Stevens
“I didn’t want to leave, but …” I started sobbing. God, I was so over crying this summer. I’d spent more time shedding tears over Gracin Ford than I had over anything else in my life. “But I didn’t feel like I had a choice, Meerkat. The way he looked at me, it tore me up.”
Miranda wrapped her arms around me.
“And it was easier to say goodbye to him if he hated me than …” I sobbed uncontrollably for several minutes. My little sister comforted me. This was wrong. The older sister was supposed to be the comforter, not the comfortee.
“This whole deadline thing’s stupid.” Miranda rubbed her hand up and down my arm. “You guys are so head over heels in love with each other, and you’ve put a time limit on your relationship. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of. Even dumber is that you guys both intend on honoring it.”
I wanted to laugh, because I agreed with her. We sat in her room, letting the music fill the silence, until an hour before Miranda was supposed to leave for work.
“I’m going with you,” I said, getting to my feet and hurrying out of her door. “Don’t leave without me.”
“Only if you promise to talk to him,” she shouted as I ran down the hallway to get ready.
Regardless of what had happened, I still had a job to do and money to make for school. Talk to Gracin? Yeah, when he got his head out of his ass and admitted I was only trying to help, then we’d talk. Maybe even salvage the rest of the summer. It didn’t matter if Miranda thought our deadline was stupid, because it was still there. It wasn’t going to change.
∞ ∞ ∞
Mom dropped us off at the theater. Miranda insisted I ride with her so I wouldn’t make a grand escape on my scooter. It was a fair assessment. If things got to be too much, I’d leave in half a heartbeat. Without the scooter, I’d have to find a way home or call a cab. Either way, Miranda theorized, I’d have time to doubt my decision to run with my tail between my legs. Why she thought I was the dog in this situation defied logic, but whatever.
A few of the guys smiled as I strolled backstage. I smiled at them as my nerves somersaulted in my stomach. Despite my apprehensions, it was nice to be back at the theater. I hadn’t realized how much I loved it here. Maybe Luke could manage the resort and I could take over the theater one day. I shook my head. Dad wouldn’t go for it, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t manage a different theater. Just the thought surprised me. I always hated this place, until I got to know it. Now I can’t imagine being anywhere else.
Miranda knocked on Gracin’s door and waited. I held my breath until Miranda elbowed me in the gut and it whooshed out.
Gracin pulled open the door with a smile for my sister that disappeared the minute he saw me. If I was totally honest with myself, which, face it, has been a problem my entire life, I’d hoped he would see me and pull me into his arms. Totally not what happened.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked. Venom rolled through my veins.
“It’s her job, Gracin,” Miranda chided as she pushed her way inside. “I’m just filling in, remember?”
I followed Miranda without a word and stopped when the disaster hit me full force. Gracin’s dressing room had been hit by a twister. That was the only excuse for the way it looked. His wardrobe was empty. The vanity where he kept his expensive and extensive hair care collection was so disorganized someone with OCD would’ve had a heart attack. I didn’t even know where to start.
“What?” Miranda said, grabbing my arm to steady me. I hadn’t realized I was swaying. “What’s wrong?”
I pointed to the vanity, then toward the pile of costumes on the floor by the wardrobe and covering the loveseat. Gracin’s dressing room wasn’t big to begin with, but with all his shit everywhere it was downright claustrophobic.
“Geez, Carly, relax. The world isn’t going to end just because a few things are out of place.” Miranda shoved my arm playfully.
Facing her, I found my voice, and it was loud. “A few things? FEMA would recommend disaster relief. What the hell, Meer?”
“Not my job.” She shrugged and moved toward the door. “And it’s not yours either. I’m going to Luke’s office and make a few phone calls.”
Not one for quiet reflection, Miranda slammed the door shut and rattled the two pictures on the wall. I took a deep breath, unsure where to start. The clothes were a priority, but so was the mess on the vanity. I headed toward the mess on the loveseat first when the odor hit me.
“Oh my God, when were these last dry-cleaned?” I asked myself.
“The last time you took them.”
I jumped. So focused on the disaster in front of me, I’d forgotten Gracin hadn’t left the room. My toes curled in my boots, and my fingers tightened into my palms. I couldn’t bring myself to face him.
“Miranda said it’s not her job, and she was right.” He sighed and I heard the slight creak in the dressing table chair. “You didn’t have to do any of those things either, but you did without asking. So … thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I whispered.
We didn’t say anything as we continued to not stare at one another, but the smell emanating from the toxic pile in front of me sent me into action. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and texted Miranda to get four or five bottles of fabric freshener to me as soon as possible, as in right now. It took me ten minutes, but I found the first costume change and hung it behind the door. Miranda walked in less than a minute later, raising her eyes at Gracin who hadn’t moved from his chair. I wanted to pull the top of the bottles off and pour the liquid over his clothes, but that wouldn’t do anything for tonight’s show.
“Miranda, you keep Gracin clothed onstage while I get this nightmare cleaned up during the show.” I hung up the hated denim vest, flinching from the added stench.
“Oh, you don’t need that. Gracin’s not wearing it anymore.” Miranda took it from me, not batting an eye at the visible green fumes. “It’s ugly. I told him to wear that pinstriped one over the white tee instead. It’s much sexier.”
Time slowed down as I turned toward him. My adorable little sister could suggest a change in the show, but not me. What. The. Fuck.
“Miranda, could you leave, please.” I bit each word, trying not to yell at her. She hadn’t done anything at all, but Gracin, oh that was an entirely different problem and it needed to be addressed immediately if I was going to seriously work around him again.
“Um … okay.” My overly confident sister sounded unsure of the idea, but she wasn’t going to fight it.
Gracin cocked his manscaped eyebrows and stared at me through those perfect, but not real, blue eyes.
“If I’m going to finish working this summer, and I need the money for school, we have to clear the air.” I crossed my arms and waited for him to respond. He just stared at me with no expression whatsoever. I wanted to smack some emotion into him. “We had this … amazing thing between us, and you threw it away because I wanted to suggest something for your show. Yet, Miranda tells you to ditch the horrible denim vest that belongs in 1992, and it’s all fine and dandy? Explain that to me, Gracin, because I’ve been kicking myself for a week wishing I could take it back and knowing I can’t. And knowing I don’t want to.”
Gracin stood and strode two steps, stopping before me. I wasn’t going to back down from this fight, and if he really knew me, then he knew that.
“So, what’s the difference?” I whispered. His presence raised my blood pressure to medication-required levels.
“I threw it away?” His teeth flashed as he ground them together. Damn if it wasn’t sexy as all hell. “You’re the one who walked out on me, Carly. You’re the one who said goodbye. Don’t blame me for your decision.”
“Seriously?” I closed the gap between us to get a better look at his eyes. “You were the one who …” The turmoil in his eyes threw me off.
“Who what?” The intense anger was gone, leaving his voice husky. He lifted his hands and moved them toward my shoulders, but h
e dropped them back to his sides before touching me. Oh God, how I wanted him to touch me right now. “What did I do?”
“You accused me of trying to change you,” I said after a long pause. “When all I wanted was to show the world the guy I see, the guy … the guy who writes beautiful music in his cabin. The guy who pours his heart into songs he doesn’t share. The guy who holds the door open for me or holds his raincoat over my head when it drizzles. That’s all I wanted to do. I just wanted them to see Jonathan Gracin Ford.” I swallowed the cotton ball growing in my mouth.
He stared at me, his lips twitching. “What if he saves all of that for you?”
I gasped as his hands slid up my arms. His skin against mine created an electric current igniting every nerve in my body.
“What if he’s afraid nobody else would like the guy you see?” He squeezed me tighter.
“How could they not?”
His lips brushed mine, tentative at first. Goosebumps trailed behind his fingers as they made their way to my hair. I put my hands on his hips, pulling him against me until we backed into the door. Gracin’s mouth should be nominated for sainthood, because I found heaven there.
Someone pushed against the door, but I reached down and turned the lock. The damned show could start at seven-thirty for all I cared. For the moment, I had Gracin back. And I wanted, no, needed to relish every second, because we’d already wasted too much time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Gracin and I fell back into our routine, but when the calendar turned from July to August, something shifted between us. Again. The guillotine inched closer to end us every day.
I spread out on his couch, resting my feet on his lap while he played his guitar. We only had two and a half weeks left together. Gracin played a melody and jotted down some chords on the paper hanging half off the arm of the couch. Quite frankly, as much as I loved listening to him sing and play, I was bored. There was so much I wanted to show him but not enough time to do it all. Plus, I wanted him to pay more attention to me than the six-strings preoccupying him.
“Gracin,” I half-whined. My toes pressed into the guitar, shoving it away from him.
“Let’s go do something. Head to the wax museum –”
“Later. I need to get this down.” He pulled the guitar closer to him, and tapped my feet until I moved them.
I sat up quickly. “I’m only going to be here for seventeen more days, and this is how you want to spend our day off? Glad to see I’m so important.”
“Carly –”
It was too late, I’d already moved toward the door and had my hand on the doorknob. The door was lighter than I remembered, or I was angrier than I thought, because I threw it open and it bounced back so fast it hit me in the ass. I let out a harrumph but kept going to my scooter. If he didn’t want to spend time with me, there were things I could do without him. Hit the zipline or find a bungee cord. I started the scooter and sat there. The engine hummed its little buzz.
But I didn’t drive away. I couldn’t.
When I glanced back at the cabin, Gracin leaned against the open door frame in nothing but his shorts. He crooked his finger at me. It was like a fishing hook reeling me toward him. I shut the engine off and stormed back toward the door, pushing past him and inside.
I didn’t get very far before he scooped me against him, pressing his bare chest into my back and trapping my arms to my sides.
“I’m sorry.” He kissed up my neck and nibbled on my ear. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. In fact, your leaving is the one thing I don’t want to think about, Carly.”
“Because we have to …” The word stuck in my throat. I didn’t want to say it this time.
He nodded against my skin, but he didn’t say it either. “The wax museum sounds like fun.”
I swallowed back the lump and pressed against him. “We can take hundreds of stupid pictures we’ll have for the rest of our lives.”
“Then we should probably get cleaned up, don’t you think?” He stepped forward, pushing my legs in front of me as he moved us toward the bathroom. I let him, because I wanted as much of Gracin Ford as I could get for the next seventeen days.
∞ ∞ ∞
It wasn’t hard to get people to take our photos at the wax museum or on the Duck tour. Gracin had never ridden in the vehicular boats, and when the duck moved toward the lake, he grabbed my arm and bounced in his seat like the five-year-old in front of us. It was endearing, and heartbreaking. I loved that I was the one experiencing this with him, but it hurt too. I tried to shake it off and hide it as the day progressed, focusing on the fun we were having instead. If Gracin noticed, he didn’t let on. If he felt the same, he didn’t let it show either.
Maybe we should’ve been actors.
The sunset was magnificent, as usual, and I rested my head on his shoulder as we watched it.
“Aren’t you supposed to wish on a sunset?” Gracin asked.
I sat up and stared at him. “What? I’ve never heard of that before.”
“So?” He shrugged one shoulder and glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Maybe it’ll be our thing. Every time you see the sunset, you think of us and make a wish.”
I put my head back on his shoulder, contemplating his idea. It wasn’t a bad one really. It would be something for just us. “Can I tell you my wish?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
“I wish this summer wouldn’t end.” A lone tear slipped free, and I let it fall.
Gracin didn’t comment. He kissed my hair and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I wanted him to agree, but that was too much to ask. Gracin made his feelings clear before we got too involved. Just because I’d fallen in love with him didn’t change anything. After this perfect day, we’d only have sixteen left. Then fifteen. Fourteen. The countdown would continue until I drove off toward Nashville, leaving Gracin and Branson a memory in my rearview mirror. A few weeks after my departure, Gracin would make his own.
We’d only be memories to one another.
∞ ∞ ∞
Dad’s presence at the theater increased as Luke prepared to return to school in Chicago. Everything ran smoother with Dad around. For one, Luke liked to negotiate too much whereas Dad’s stance was more “do it or I’ll find someone who will.” I preferred my father’s approach to theater management.
The only issue I had was personal. Sneaking around with Gracin was harder with Dad constantly taking my boyfriend away to talk about one thing or another. It seemed like every single day Dad would call Gracin into his office, and they’d be in there for hours.
After a week of this, I finally asked Gracin what was going on.
“What do you mean?” He tugged his hair up, gliding gel through his tresses so they appeared perfectly messy. Kinda like bedhead, but not nearly as sexy as his real bedhead.
“I hardly see you when we’re here anymore. It’s like the principal keeps calling you to his office.” I tossed the day planner I’d used all summer to keep Gracin’s appointments organized onto the loveseat in the corner. It bounced off the soft cushion before falling to the floor. I plopped on the seat in full pout mode. “If he had a problem, he should’ve said something back in June.”
Gracin picked up the day planner and sat beside me. “His daughter was coming home every night back in June.”
My face must’ve looked like a bruised apple. Over the last few weeks, I spent less time at home and more time at Gracin’s. Sometimes I didn’t even bother coming home. Dad never said a word, and I never lied about it. I omitted details, but I never said I was staying at Nena’s or Ivy’s. I would simply say I wasn’t coming home. It didn’t take an Ivy-league education to figure out where I was.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.” My fingers curled into my palms, the stubby nails managing minor damage to my skin.
“Yeah, I’m kidding.” Gracin draped his arm around my shoulders. “He just wants to make sure I’ve been happy here.”
“Oh,” I sighed, relie
f washing over me. Dad was being the owner, not my father, in his conversations with Gracin. Understandable. He didn’t want to get a bad reputation among bigger name performers. Gracin’s run had brought in mega-revenue, and he needed that to become the norm or he’d have to sell eventually. Then another thought hit me, and I had to ask him. “Have you? Been happy here?”
Gracin pulled me against him and kissed my hair. It was his standard move when he didn’t want to answer a question. I let myself believe he meant this in a positive way, but I still needed an answer.
“Well?”
“You know I have, Carly.”
His words rolled through me, and I felt the heaviness in them. Thirteen days and that weight would sink me to the bottom of Table Rock Lake.
The show flew by, and I waited in my usual spot for Gracin to come offstage. He’d just started his first encore when someone tapped my shoulder. I glanced back to where my father stood behind me, his eyes focused on the performance.
“Have you noticed how much he’s changed?” Dad nodded toward Gracin’s dancing form. I followed his gaze toward Gracin before he disappeared out of our view.
I shrugged, not sure what he was getting at.
“When he first got here, he was angry.” Dad’s hand fell heavy on my shoulder. “Honestly, I worried about you working with him, but it was good for him.” He squeezed my shoulder, and I glanced back at him again. “And for you.”
Turning on the balls of my feet, I wrapped my arms around Dad and hugged him for the first time in years. Oh, there’d been casual congratulatory hugs here and there, but it had been too long since I hugged him just to hug him. He reciprocated, holding me like I was still his little girl, when we both knew that wasn’t the case anymore.
“You’ve been through so much, Carly. A lesser person would’ve wilted, but not you.” He pushed me back but held my shoulders as he stared down at me. “I wish I could’ve been there for you more.” A tear glistened on his lashes. “I wish …”
My father had never cried in my life. And, now, I’d seen him do it twice in the span of a summer. Even when his parents had passed away, Dad had been drier than the Sahara. The unprecedented nature of this entire scene made the world shift under my feet. I hugged him again, grateful he was my father and not somebody else’s. Yeah, we’d had a rough time over the last few years, but that was the past and we had a future to discuss.