Louie whimpers and leans his head into my hand like my touch is the most remarkable feeling in the world. My throat aches as I move closer, using my other hand to scratch behind his ear and down to the white patch of hair on his chest.
His back paw moves like Thumper, matching my scratches. “Oh, you like that spot, don’t you?” My voice is caught between a laugh and a cry.
I squat in front of him, and Louie pushes my head with his nose, a fight for dominance, as well as his own try at reciprocating the affection. I lift my chin, keeping my head higher than his, all while eagerly scratching down his side.
My back pocket belts out a song that makes Louie freeze and look around as if he’s missed something.
“Easy, boy,” I say, standing upright again. “It’s just my phone.” I pull out the device and sigh at the name on my screen. Cam’s calling me again. It’s the third time today, but it felt weird to answer it earlier when Bryson was standing over my shoulder. Louie sniffs the metal, the continuing vibration making him bark emphatically. “Hey,” I half say, half laugh into the phone.
“Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to think you were abducted.”
Louie pushes his nose into my stomach, obviously wanting more scratches. I oblige with my free hand.
“Sorry. I’ve been busy this week with Penny.”
“I think you love those dogs more than me.”
“Well, they do obey . . . sort of. And believe it or not, I’m currently petting one not-so-freaked-out Great Dane.”
“Louie let you touch him?”
“Yep. First time ever.”
Cam’s voice hitches. “See, now we have two reasons to celebrate.”
“What’s the other one?”
“Have you not listened to any of my voicemails?”
“No. I’m sorry.” I sigh, guilt rolling in for some reason. The last five days have been such a beautiful cocoon of Bryson that I haven’t even thought of Cameron.
“We got a second gig with Firesight, and this time their label is coming to watch and consider us for their new tour.” His giddiness is palpable. “If we impress, we’ll be opening for them in twenty cities across the U.S.”
“Cam, that’s . . .” I don’t know what to say. I’m beyond happy for him, but it also means a second tour. One even longer than the last one. “How did all this happen so fast?” I glance at Charlie’s house, the real question filtering through my mind. Why didn’t Bryson tell me?
“You remember their guitarist, Jax, the one who commented on my solo? Well, we met up after their set and played till three in the morning, just messing around. Darcy, he’s the first person I’ve ever met who sees the music the way I do. Oh, and his girlfriend is amazing. You’ll love her, and she’s thrilled there’s another girl around. Promise me you’ll come hang with us next time. The whole band is really down to earth.”
I listen silently, methodically petting Louie’s head. “Sounds like you two hit it off.”
“More than that. Jax wants us, and he’s convinced this tour, with our combined talent, will make us both household names. I told him we were in, but you know how that goes. Promises mean nothing in the music industry. Plus, Bryson has been so weird about the band lately. Refusing to set up another tour and turning down two gigs just because they were a couple of hours away. Honestly, I half expected him to say no.” His clipped tone highlights his frustration but the edge fades quickly. “By some miracle, it all worked out. Just like Jax promised. The contract for the opening set was signed this morning. Which means you and I are going to dress up and splurge on a swanky steak restaurant in Dallas.”
“Are we?” I work to sound as excited as he is. “And when exactly is this outing supposed to happen?”
“Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven.” He sighs like he’s still in shock. “It’s so surreal. I’m three weeks away from all my dreams coming true.”
“I’m really happy for you, Cameron.”
“For us, Darcy. I wouldn’t be here without you.” His voice turns soft. “I’d all but given up. And I would have if you hadn’t been there cheering me on, reminding me why I’m sacrificing so much. You’re my rock.”
“You’re mine too.”
He’s quiet for a second. “I hope so. More than ever, I feel like we need to take advantage of this time. Like something big is about to happen.”
“Sounds like it already has.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He laughs like a man who won the lottery and doesn’t quite believe it. “So, seven?”
“Seven. I’ll see you then.” We say our goodbyes, and I slide my phone back in my pocket, my mind in a daze.
Three weeks. And then what?
Insecurity flares where it’s never been before. Bryson admitted to dating Alison because he was going on tour and didn’t want to be alone. And yeah, he regretted it, but that doesn’t mean he’s not prone to making the same mistake again.
I immediately shake off thoughts of my former friend. Bryson isn’t the same man he used to be. He’s proven that fact over and over again.
But even as I work to calm the growing unrest, Caleb’s warning comes back with haunting clarity.
“Nobody really knows Bryson. He makes sure of it.”
I slam my foot against the concrete step to knock the dirt off, Penny squirming in my arms. I’m mad, and not just at the twenty failed minutes of training I attempted after Cam’s phone call. I’m mad because Bryson willingly chose to keep a monumental secret from me. And while it’s only been five days and this relationship thing is new to both of us, I can’t help but see multiple red flags, especially after watching what secrets and lies did to a thirty-five-year marriage.
When did he find out? That’s the biggest question on my mind. I mean, come on, contracts had been signed. This wasn’t like a missed email.
When my shoes are no longer caked in clay, I push through the door and try to calm down. Penny’s already agitated, and my bottled-up emotion isn’t helping. I set her on the floor and wrap the leash twice around my hand to keep her close.
Bryson’s head pops up when I enter the kitchen. “You done?” He’s sitting at the island bar, reading something on his phone. Probably research on all the cities they’ll visit while on tour.
“Yeah. We’re definitely done.”
“Good. We’re just about to walk Macey to the neighbor’s. Charlie’s changing now.”
Penny gives one warning growl before shooting toward the island, where Macey sits next to Bryson’s stool.
My hand jerks forward, but the leash snaps taut just in time to stop the assault. I grit my teeth to keep from screaming. “No,” I say firmly and roll the material tighter around my hand, the stitching pressing into my skin. Penny slides backward instead of forward, hopping on her back two feet.
The empty stool next to Bryson topples over as Macey tries to escape, creating more aggravation and chaos. I glance at Bryson, who’s watching Penny with the same contempt I’ve seen on Charlie’s face multiple times. “Can you help, please?” I say with more accusation than is fair. “Take her into the living room or something?”
His eyes pierce mine, obviously catching the bite in my tone, but instead of coming back with any defense, Bryson gets up and pushes his stool out of the way to get to her. When she refuses to move, he squats down and heaves her fifty-plus pounds in his arms. “It’s ridiculous a dog this size is scared of that rat,” he grunts and hauls the terrified dog out of the room.
I lean down and pick up Penny, who still has yet to quit growling and barking. “What am I going to do with you?” One on one, she’s actually not bad. Stubborn but certainly not crazy. But the minute another dog enters the mix, she becomes a poster child for neurotic behavior. “People don’t really like to adopt dogs that attack. Just FYI.”
Penny pokes my cheek with her tiny nose and licks my face.
I take her inside the laundry room and wrestle her back into her crate. She hates this thing now, and the more
time we spend outside, the harder she fights when I put her back. “I know, girl. I want to let you out, too, but I can’t if you don’t get your aggression under control.” She continues her manic barking until I shut the door, and then slowly it fades into acceptance.
“I don’t trust that dog,” Bryson says when he returns to the kitchen. “You okay now?”
“I’m fine.” I slide onto the stool and rub my face, exhaustion and the crash of my earlier emotions settling like a blanket over my good mood. “I just need more patience and time.”
“The fair is tomorrow.” He takes the seat next to me and hesitates a second before squeezing my tense shoulders with his hand. I guess he’s learned my tells, as well. He seems to sense my frustration. “Surely you’re not thinking of taking her.”
“I was, until just now.” I rub my temples. There are only a few more fairs left this summer, and I really need to take advantage of every one. “I guess waiting one more week won’t kill the timeline.”
“No, it will not.” He leans into me and kisses my shoulder. “Plus, that frees you up to spend the entire day with me.”
I know his statement should make me feel warm inside, but it only reminds me that three weeks from now, he could be leaving. Not could . . . will be leaving. Firesight’s manager is going to see exactly what all of us did last weekend: Bryson and Cameron are magic together.
“Hey.” He leans his elbow on the counter, turning himself until I’m forced to look into his eyes. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing.” I should just ask him, straight out, but talking about the possible tour is not something I plan to do in the middle of Charlie’s kitchen, especially when I still have no idea exactly what I’m feeling.
Charlie emerges from his room, and it’s a transformation I’m completely unprepared for. He’s dressed in thin khakis and a blue collared shirt. His hair is still long but tamed and styled, and his beard is four inches shorter.
I leap from my stool, grateful for a distraction. “Wow! I wouldn’t have recognized you.”
His cheeks redden. “I figured it was time for some grooming.”
“You look great. And check it out, Bryson, blue.” I glance at him over my shoulder and force myself to smile. He’s still watching me with far too much concern. “You’ve heard of it, right? It’s a color that isn’t black.”
Bryson comes behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and sets his chin on my shoulder. “I’ll wear blue if you really want me to,” he whispers, and all my negative thoughts begin to unravel. No one could be this good at pretending, could they? Then again, my parents hid their fractures for years, and I blissfully went through life never noticing the ground beneath me was near collapse.
I try again to relax or at least appear that way. “Don’t tease me, Katsaros. I will hold you to that.”
Charlie shakes his head at our open display of affection, but I see a hint of a smile appear. He turns and whistles, the sound cutting the air as if it came from a toy. Macey comes running at a speed I didn’t know she possessed, slipping twice on the hardwood floor. “Well, lookie here. It still works, even after all this time.” He squats down, and she showers him with kisses.
I shift my focus from the swirling questions in my head to the pair in front of me. At least one thing in my life makes total sense. This job. And even though I’m skipping the fair tomorrow, I still get a win. Because whether he knows it yet or not, Charlie just became the proud, permanent owner of an adorable, ridiculously skittish mutt.
twenty-four
Charlie’s closest neighbor lives nearly a quarter mile away and down a small country road that has become more gravel than asphalt. It’s a beautiful walk, though, bathed in shade by large oak and cedar trees.
Macey tries to stop at nearly every tree, sniffing and digging as if this is the first time she’s been out of captivity in months. I guess, in a way, she has been locked away. Charlie too. Grief can be a prison if left unattended without hope or progress.
We crest the final hill, and a row of fencing breaks to reveal a gorgeous two-story home painted white with bright green shutters.
Charlie must recognize my awestruck face. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
“I’ll say. It’s like a postcard.”
“There’s a ten-acre lake right over there.” He points beyond the house, and I barely make out a patch of blue glistening in the sun. “Bryson can take you sometime. Best fishing for miles.”
My stomach tumbles at the mention of his name. We’ve barely spoken the entire walk. “Sounds nice.”
Charlie’s body suddenly jerks forward, Macey nearly upending her owner in her quest to explore. I lunge to steady him the same time Bryson grabs at the leash.
“I’ll take that,” he says, unraveling the leather from Charlie’s wrinkled hand. “She’s too excited to behave right now.”
Charlie watches his pet with sorrowful yet optimistic eyes. This walk really has been a step toward healing. I can see it in both of their faces.
We reach the front door, quicker than any of us intend to, but Macey has set the pace for the last hundred feet.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Charlie says and rings the doorbell. “Word of warning. Sheila’s the type to tell you how it is, and I have a feeling she has a few choice words for me. Most of them deserved, I’m afraid.”
The door opens to reveal a slim older lady with white hair and tight jeans. She pushes out the screen door. “Well now, look who finally came over to grovel.”
Sheila and Charlie share a look that tells me everything is going to be okay between the two of them. Forgiveness is expected between old friends, grace given without the need for apologies. It’s the backbone of relationships. The very thing that sustains time and distance and, in this case, the death of someone they both loved dearly.
Charlie clears his throat. “I brought a peace offering.” With that, Bryson eases his viselike grip on Macey’s leash, and her tail is wagging so hard she practically wiggle-runs to Sheila. The older lady squats and meets the dog with equal excitement.
“There’s my girl! I’ve missed you so much.” She stands, her eyes glistening. “Well, come in. No need to stand here and let out all the A/C.”
Charlie steps forward, and before he can make it past the doorway, Sheila gives him a hug that nearly cracks my resolve not to cry. I think it does his, too, because he nods and quickly moves inside, Macey at his heels.
Bryson comes over and wraps his arm around my shoulder, the first real contact we’ve shared since leaving the house. “What do you want to do?”
“I think we should give them some time.”
He nods. “Hey, Sheila, you mind if I take Darcy out to the lake for a while?”
“Not at all.” She smiles warmly, and her perfect teeth are either dentures or she has the best dentist in the world. “And thanks for getting him over here. We’ve missed him.” She doesn’t linger, which I like. Maybe it’s a farmer/rancher thing, but this no-nonsense, straightforward world is definitely something I could enjoy for a long time.
“Ready?” Bryson’s hand fills mine, his fingers sliding in between my own as he steps closer.
I nod and let him guide us down a path, first made of flat stone, then as it passes through the final fence and turns into caliche. With each step, the lake gets closer and seems to go on without end. A wooden deck juts out at least ten feet into the water. It looks new and sturdy, as if it’s only been here a few years.
He pauses when we reach the edge and turns so we’re facing each other. “Now that we’re alone again, want to tell me what’s upsetting you?”
“Nothing’s—”
“Yes, it is,” Bryson says, cutting me off. “You’ve been different with me since you came in the house earlier.”
I watch the water as tiny ripples form from unseen sources. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”
“You’re worried about Penny?”
“No, I mean, yes . . . a little, b
ut that’s not what’s bothering me.” I already know that Bryson isn’t going to let me deflect, and truthfully I don’t want to. I may not have a lot of experience with relationships, but I do know I don’t want one where I can’t be completely honest. I force myself to turn back to him, to watch his eyes when I admit what’s had me in turmoil for the last thirty minutes. “I guess I’m trying to figure out why you didn’t tell me about the concert and the tour.”
He stiffens, which answers one of my questions. He was intentionally keeping it from me.
I swallow down the hurt. “I mean, it’s an incredible opportunity. I would think you would be thrilled about the news.”
“You talked to Cameron.” A statement. Not a question. Bryson inhales deeply, the same way my mom did right before telling me she was ready to start dating. “Nothing’s a guarantee, yet. There’s still a lot of stars that need to align before anything definite is going to happen.”
“You signed a contract, Bryson, and didn’t say a word to me about it. That’s concerning, especially considering your history with Alison.” I let go of his hand and take my first step onto the treated wood. The deck creaks but doesn’t move, so I take one more, then another, leaving Bryson at the shore. My stomach knots with each foot of distance I put between us. I don’t want there to be tension, but I also can’t help but wonder if I should have put more stock into Caleb’s warnings.
When I reach the end of the deck, I sit and let my sneakered feet hang over the water. A shadow appears, and Bryson sits next to me, close enough that I consider scooting away to get some distance.
“You’re right.” He tugs on the back of his neck. “I should have told you. I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t want anything to mess up what we’ve started.”
“Unless . . . this was why we started in the first place. You did say the road gets lonely.”
“Hey.” He shifts to face me instead of the water and picks up my hand. “This isn’t like before.”
Love and the Silver Lining Page 20