by Gun Brooke
“Yes?” Tierney sat with her back against the headboard, looking up from the small keyboard where she was trying to play the melody that plagued her.
“This can’t go on, sweetheart.” Manon pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.
“What do you mean?” Tierney pulled up her knees and laced her fingers on top of them.
“You’re miserable, and Stephanie is even worse off. Surely you’ve noticed that?” Manon stroked Tierney’s cold hands.
Tierney was aware that Steph seemed to have lost her appetite and remained in her room most of the time. Whenever someone tried to encourage her and discuss her next foster home, Steph shut down and refused to engage. “Yeah,” Tierney said now and tipped her head back, hoping her ever-flowing tears would run back into their ducts.
“It’s useless to cast blame and try to figure out who’s responsible for what’s going on, as it’s nobody’s fault. But I’m certain that only you can do something about it.” Manon moved and sat down next to Tierney. “You’re the strong one in this equation, no matter what you think.”
“I’m not! I’m not. I wouldn’t know where to start.” Tierney allowed Manon to hug her only because she trusted this woman and she was desperate. Tierney trembled in Manon’s soothing embrace.
“All right,” Manon said quietly. “Let me ask a few questions. Do you miss Giselle?”
Appalled, Tierney lifted her head to face Manon. “Of course I do. Every second of every fucking day.” She winced. “Sorry.”
Manon didn’t seem to mind the curse word. “Do you agree that Giselle is all alone because her fears have shut us all out?”
“All of us? You mean she doesn’t even talk to you?” Shocked, Tierney stared at Manon, who slowly shook her head, her eyes sad.
“Not even Vivian. We’ve tried calling, and sometimes she picks up, but she hangs up after ten seconds, max. Only when I ask about the dog and the cat does she reply, very briefly.”
“Steph misses Charley desperately. I never realized how firmly they’d bonded, even if I knew they were always together at Giselle’s,” Tierney said. “I imagine the dog is mourning too.”
“Giselle has problems getting her to eat.” Manon sighed.
“And when it comes to a retriever, that’s a huge deal.”
“So I’ve heard. Next question. If you thought you could reach Giselle by telling her how you really feel about her, would you do that?”
“Sh-she fired me. She said she didn’t need me, that I would love being back on the road, just like before. Giselle doesn’t get it. She’ll never get it.” Weeping silently, Tierney wiped at her cheeks.
“Still, if you thought perhaps there was the smallest of chances for you to make Giselle see how much you miss her, and that you love her very deeply, would you be brave enough to try?” Studying Tierney, Manon exuded nothing but kindness. “I know what I’m talking about. I hurt Eryn when we fell in love. I was so sure it was a mistake that I fled. A friend of mine talked to me like I’m talking to you right now. I know you didn’t hurt Giselle. It’s the opposite in this case. But if I dared to bare my heart and soul to Eryn that time, I think you can do it too. You’re much stronger and braver than I was.”
“You mean I should put everything on the line, risk her breaking my heart all over again?” Raising her chin, Tierney challenged Manon. She should have known Manon wouldn’t budge. This woman was so regal and collected, Tierney found it impossible not to want to please her.
“And how is that different from how you’re feeling now? And how Stephanie is feeling? I’m sure you can imagine Giselle pacing the rooms all alone, unable to even step outside.”
“Unable? How…?” Paling, Tierney gaped. “You’ve had someone drive by and check things out, haven’t you?” She meant the statement as an accusation, but instead a budding hope ignited in Tierney’s chest. “You haven’t abandoned her…like I have.” The last three words came out in a broken whisper.
“You haven’t abandoned her.” Manon shook her gently. “You’ve been licking your wounds, as I’m sure Giselle had to be damn harsh to get you to leave. She’s talked herself into believing she’s being selfish for wanting you, and now she’s thinking only of your bright future in the music industry. She had to fight hard to get where she is, which is quite different from her original hopes and dreams. No wonder she wants the best for you. She thinks this type of chance is what you really want above all else and that you’ll resent her forever if she shows how much she cares for you. And for young Steph, for that matter.”
Tenderness erupted, and Tierney freed herself and stood. “That stubborn…woman!” She shook her head. “I already knew what she was up to, but my own insecurities and, I suppose, my experiences drowned it out.” She pulled on her sneakers. “Do you think it’s too late?”
“No.” One word, spoken with utter surety.
“Then may I borrow a car? I’ll bring it back as soon as I can.”
Manon got up and hugged her. “Take Eryn’s little car. And don’t rush.”
Tierney’s heart made what had to be described as a quadruple somersault. “I won’t. Wish me luck.”
“That, and be sure you remember how stubborn you are, sweetheart.”
Running toward the stairs, Tierney thought of Steph and turned around, hurrying into her room. The girl was sitting on the bed, much like Tierney had been only moments ago. She had a book on her lap but was merely looking out the window.
“Hey, kiddo. I’m going to try to talk some sense into Giselle. Wish me luck.”
“You are? You really are?” Blinking, Steph rose to her knees. “Yes. Oh, yes. I hope you can convince her that she needs you. I mean us!” Steph pushed her shoulders back. “Good luck. Or should I say, break a leg?”
“Are you kidding? I nearly did that when I crashed into that car! Let’s settle for good luck.” To her relief, Steph smiled. Over by the door, Tierney waved, and then she ran down the stairs and grabbed the car keys Eryn held out to her without a word.
Reminding herself to not drive like a car thief, Tierney headed out of East Quay, toward Giselle’s house. She couldn’t disappoint Steph, Manon, or herself. She refused to let herself fail.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The music room, which was normally Giselle’s refuge, felt empty. Was the thermostat working correctly? It seemed freezing cold in there. Rubbing her arms, she walked over to the regulator on the wall, checking the temperature. When she read the numbers and realized it was set to the usual seventy-two degrees, she knew something was wrong with her, not the heating system. Giselle was cold from the inside and out.
Sitting down at the piano, she slowly opened the lid. She remained still, merely staring at the keys, her eyes burning. Something touched her leg, and she flinched before she realized it was Charley, who sat down by her side, placing her head on her lap.
“You miss her too, right? Both of them, even.”
Charley gave a muted “moff” and nudged her hand. Giselle scratched behind Charley’s ears.
“I know, girl. I know.” So. This was what a thoroughly broken heart felt like. Giselle shook her head. She’d always thought the worst thing that could happen was having more anxiety attacks in public and thus seeing the repulsion and pity in people’s eyes. That was nothing compared to this. Her home, her life, without Tierney, and of course, without Stephanie, was so empty that it chilled her to the core.
She played a few lackluster chords, listening for something to inspire her. Nothing. They were just chords, nothing that sparked her muse or made her become electrified about composing. If she couldn’t work in tandem with Tierney, what was the use? The joy of creation was gone. How had her originality become so tied in with Tierney’s presence and efforts?
Giselle glanced down at her dog. If she felt the loss of her inspiration, Charley was mourning Tierney and, even more so, Stephanie. “I’m so sorry, Charley. Perhaps I never should have employed her. If I hadn’t, you and I wouldn’t have suffe
red so much.”
Giselle closed the lid again and rested her arms against it. Burying her face in the sleeves of her cardigan, she wept. She couldn’t control her pain and cried for the young woman she would perhaps never see again. Even if she did, Tierney would have the life she deserved and find success all on her own. She should have more of a life than being stuck in the East Quay countryside with someone who was a burden.
“Giselle?”
Sobbing, Giselle was certain her distraught mind had conjured up the sound of Tierney’s voice. Only when a gentle hand ran through her hair and cupped the back of her neck did she realize she wasn’t alone. Looking up, she blinked through the tears that blurred her vision. Tierney stood there, a worried frown on her face. “Giselle?”
“Angel…” Giselle whispered. “What—what are you doing here?” Why was she here? If she’d come for something she’d forgotten, why couldn’t she just have sent for it? Did she have to return, only to leave and cut Giselle’s heart into a million pieces again?
“I’m here to ask you something,” Tierney said, crouching next to the piano stool and holding on to Giselle’s knees. She looked nervous but determined to get whatever it was off her chest. “I just want you to hear me out, okay?”
Giselle didn’t want to listen to anything at all. She wanted to hide under the covers in her bed, or at least she would have if it wasn’t for the memory of their lovemaking that permeated it. “Can I stop you?” she whispered.
Tierney winced. “Of course you can. You can show me the door. I hope you’ll hear me out, though, and then if you still want me to leave, I’ll go, and that’s…that.”
And if she didn’t want Tierney to leave, did this mean she might stay? Chastising herself for allowing such a thought to surface, Giselle nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Ah. Okay.” Glancing at the love seat, Tierney pointed. “Can we sit over there? The floor’s not very comfortable.”
Getting up, Giselle disregarded the fact that Tierney was still crouching and sat down on the couch. Tierney rose effortlessly and joined her. “Well. This isn’t easy for me. I’m really nervous.”
“Whatever for?” Giselle raised a deliberate eyebrow.
“You look kind of intimidating right now, but here goes.” Tierney cleared her throat. “I never should’ve allowed you to chase me away.”
Whatever Giselle might have guessed, this was definitely not how she had thought Tierney would have initiated her talk. “Go on,” Giselle said matter-of-factly.
“I never should have fallen for the reasons you invented, like when you claimed you would be fine on your own and that you needed to restore your privacy.” Her lips tense and pale, Tierney pressed her palms together. “It hurt so badly, but I told myself you really must think I’d overstayed my welcome. After all, I bullied my way into your life, didn’t I? When you and Manon seemed to have figured everything out for me, and for Steph, I didn’t think I had any option but to leave. It’s been a month. Steph and I miss you—and Charley—so much, we haven’t stopped crying.”
Stephanie in tears? The mere thought was like a knife stabbing her heart. Where was this conversation leading? Giselle took her eyes off the window and returned her gaze to Tierney. Tears balanced at the tips of her eyelashes, and her hands were tight fists inside her sweater sleeves.
“Yes?” Giselle shifted, uneasy at the pain so evident on Tierney’s face.
“As soon as we left, I knew I should have fought more. I should have cornered you and have you say to my face that the night we made love meant nothing. I guess I’m so used to living a nomadic life that it never dawned on me that I might, just might, have played right into your hands. That I was all too ready to believe you, when I should’ve taken a step back and read between the lines. Manon talked to me today and showed me how wrong I’ve been—and if I’ve been wrong, chances are that you have too. I had to make sure.”
Straightening her back, Giselle smoothed down her low ponytail. “Make sure what exactly?”
“You called me ‘angel,’ and we made such amazing love. For being the first time for us together, it was damn miraculous. I know how I feel, and I’m ready to tell you even if you don’t reciprocate. I’d rather you know even if you don’t feel the same way.”
As Giselle waited breathlessly for what Tierney had to say, a miniscule flame of hope erupted just beneath her breastbone. Adjusting the bottom hem of the cardigan, she shifted again. She couldn’t even encourage Tierney to start talking, only watch her with dry, aching eyes.
Tierney drew a deep breath. “I love you, Giselle. I love you with all my heart, and I think of you day and night. I have endured a month of hellish days, and the nights have been even worse. Stephanie feels the same way.” Coughing, probably against the tears streaming down her face and most likely running down her throat, Tierney sobbed quietly. “If there’s even the slightest way you can see yourself giving me a chance—oh!”
Giselle didn’t realize that she’d tugged Tierney into her arms until she held her close and buried her face in the wild, wavy red hair. “Tierney, oh, my angel. Tierney.” Gasping for air, Giselle trembled as Tierney wrapped her arms around her neck. “Yes. Like that. Don’t let go. Don’t ever let go. And don’t let me make you leave again.”
“I won’t,” Tierney said, crying again. “I won’t. I belong with you. You see that too, right?” A fraction of insecurity still lingered in Tierney’s voice.
“I do. You belong here with me, or wherever we are, we need to be together, because I love you so very much.” Giselle spoke so fast, she was tripping over the syllables. “I thought I was doing the right thing by setting you free. You’re used to being on the road, a free spirit, and the idea of tying you down seemed so selfish. I’m never going to be like you. I just can’t. I’ll be a hindrance, and I feared you might resent me for that one day. I still fear that, but my love for you is so strong, I’m hoping it will compensate—”
“I don’t need compensation!” Tierney kissed Giselle hard on the lips. “I need only you. My days without you, well, let’s say, I don’t want to relive them anytime soon. I saw you everywhere. Even with my eyes closed. And, oh God, in my dreams…I kept trying to find you, but the nightmares kept suggesting you were dead or with someone else. You can imagine how upset I was when I woke up.”
“I’ve had similar dreams. Nightmares.” Giselle kissed Tierney, more softly, and ran her hands over her body as far as she could reach. “Does this mean you’re home to stay?”
“I am.” Tierney beamed through her lingering tears. “And, if you want, Manon says she can make sure we can provide a foster home for Steph.” She seemed to hold her breath for a few moments while looking at Giselle. “Giselle?”
“You’re certain about that? Is that what Stephanie wants?”
“Are you kidding?” Now Tierney smiled broadly, her best, authentic smile that made Giselle return it without hesitation. “Stephanie will be so thrilled, she’ll be impossible to live with for the first weeks.”
“I can endure that.” Coughing, Giselle took Tierney’s hands in hers. “I do love you, so very much.” She grew serious. “If you change your mind—”
“You won’t lose me, because I’m dying to come home. I love it here, but most of all, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. I just can’t. We’re unbeatable together. Personally, and professionally, I think you and I will have a great life together. Can you imagine working on music side by side? And raising Stephanie? And these two?” Tierney pointed at Charley and Mister, who sat at their feet at attention.
“I can. I can. Can you abide having a lover, or partner, who won’t always be able to function in public?” This was always her worst fear.
“Yes. As long as we’re together, we can work around such things. They don’t scare or deter me.” Tierney held one of Giselle’s hands against her face. “You should know just one more thing though.”
“Yes?” Giselle caressed Tierney’s wild hair. She could tell Tiern
ey was apprehensive.
“The juvenile records.”
“I don’t care about those.” Giselle kissed Tierney’s lips lightly.
“You need to know either way.” Tierney buried her face against Giselle for a moment before straightening her back. “My friend Dina and I shoplifted a lot when we were seventeen and lived at the same group home in a suburb of Chicago.” Tierney sighed. “I ended up there because the authorities had mistakenly assumed that the distant relative I had there would be interested in raising me the last two years before I became of age. As it turned out, the aunt was not my aunt by blood, but she had once been married to an uncle of mine in the eighties. He was dead and she wasn’t interested.” Tierney winced. “I’m not proud of what we did, but we were really hungry. So were the younger kids at the group home. We stole bread, some ham and cheese, and milk, repeatedly, over a period of five months. And chocolate.” Tierney sighed. “Lollipops for the youngest. And, because we were stupid, some glossy magazines about famous people we recognized from TV. The store manager who finally caught us didn’t want to press charges, but the owner had a strict zero-tolerance policy when it came to shoplifters.” Tierney wiped at her eyes. “I confessed to it all, even to what we had stolen at the other stores, and so did Dina. We offered to work the debt off by cleaning, but the store owner was convinced that foster kids like us needed jail time to learn the error of our ways. As it was, we got suspended sentences since the judge took pity on us after the court heard about the situation at the group home. She was the one who arranged for the CPS to move us to another group home, which was better. Cleaner. And we got enough food. So, you see? I had an intense, if short, career as a thief.”
“You were a starving child trying to survive.” Giselle kissed Tierney slowly. “That’s the only part I need to understand. If you can forgive yourself for that, I’ll make myself do something I used to loathe. I’ll go back into therapy. Perhaps this time it’ll work since I’m more motivated. I’ve always wondered why I have these panic attacks and the agoraphobia. I may never know, but perhaps I can find better tools to deal with them.”