Eleanor & Grey

by Brittainy Cherry

  Her shoulders rounded forward, and her eyes watered over. “But, Daddy, the pictures…”

  Greyson mumbled and turned his back once more. “Leave it on the desk.”

  Lorelai was completely defeated. She no longer danced when she moved, and her smile had faded. With slow steps, she moved toward her father’s desk and lay down the art project she’d been working on with so much care. Then she turned and walked out of the room, completely heartbroken and scarred.

  Wow.

  There was seriously no way I could bite my tongue in that moment.

  I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let that slide. Lorelai was the sweetest girl alive, and the fact that her father had just treated her in such a disgusting way made my blood boil.

  Therefore, it was best if Greyson quickly hung up that phone, because I wasn’t going to leave until I’d given him every piece of my mind.

  “Are you kidding me?” I hissed, still standing firmly in his office. He looked my way, his stare completely baffled.

  He glanced once more before going back to his phone call. “I will have to call you back in a bit, Mr. Waken. Yes, I know, and I do truly apologize. There is a disruption I must handle immediately.”

  “Yes, Greyson,” I stated, my arms crossed. “Handle this.”

  And just like that, we hit episode six of the Greyson and Eleanor show: “The Fallout.”

  He hung up the phone and narrowed his eyes as he turned to me. “What in the world do you think you are doing?”

  “What am I doing? No, what are you doing?”

  “Working, unlike some people around here. How dare you let Lorelai barge into my office? Do you know how important that phone call was?” he barked.

  “Do you know how important that artwork was?” I barked right back, not backing down. I was done backing down. Greyson was lost and stuck and hurting and pained, but in all that he was allowing himself to hurt the ones who meant the most to him. He was hurting his girls.

  He huffed. “Eleanor, please leave my office.”

  “No.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I said no. I’m not leaving, because you have to hear me.” I swallowed hard, nervous but intent on getting my point across. “I get that it’s hard for you.”

  “What?”

  “I said I get it. I get that some days are tougher than others, but the way you just treated Lorelai is unacceptable.”

  “I beg your pardon?” he hissed, his voice dripping with indignance. His chest rose and fell quickly as his fingers clenched together.

  “The way you just blew off your daughter is unacceptable. She worked on those drawings all week long and couldn’t wait to show you.”

  “Her timing was wrong.”

  “And when was she supposed to approach you? Lately the timing seems to always be wrong with you. You’re never home, and if you are you lock yourself in this office like some caveman. You don’t engage with your daughters unless they are sleeping, to which I don’t even understand the point. During the day you don’t even look at them, Greyson. You don’t even see your daughters.”

  He shut his eyes for a second, almost as if he knew the truths behind my words, but he fought against them, not wanting to face reality. “She knows the rules about not barging into my office.”

  “She’s five, Greyson! Screw your rules.”

  He turned his back on me, again. That was his favorite move, turning his back on things. “If you can get back to your job, I’d like to get back to mine.”

  “She worked so hard on that artwork, and you just tossed it aside. You owe her an apology.”

  “You need to leave,” he scolded, taking a few steps toward me.

  “No,” I bellowed, standing tall, as I stepped toward him. Chest puffed out. Head held high. I hoped he didn’t see the small tremble in my body. It was no secret that he made me nervous. He was so cold and hard that I never knew how close he was to snapping, and that was scary. Still, I wouldn’t back down, because Lorelai needed me. She needed someone to stand up for her, seeing how she couldn’t do it for herself. So, I planted my feet hard on the floor and stood my ground. “Your daughter is crying in the other room because you didn’t even take the time to notice her artwork.”

  “Is that all, Eleanor? Because if you are finished I need to get back to work.”

  “Not everything in life is about work,” I scolded.

  “Maybe not for you, but it is for me.”

  “You didn’t want to be him,” I told him, shaking my head in disbelief. “All your life, you didn’t want to be like your father.”

  “My father was a hardworking man. I was a child who didn’t know the sacrifices he made to run this company in order to provide for his family.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “Eleanor, stop,” he said, almost as if he were begging me to back down because I was tapping into sensitive territory, but I couldn’t do it. I was going to push him. I was going to keep pushing until he woke up from this deep somber he was in. I was going to keep shoving him with my words until reality hit him.

  “Your father abandoned you,” I told him. “He walked away, just like your mother, and they left you alone.”

  “Eleanor.” His voice was low, and his eyes were intense. I was doing it. I was getting under his skin, and I wasn’t going to stop.

  “You told me repeatedly how alone you felt after your grandfather died. You told me time and time again how you hated sitting in your house, because there was no one there for you. Greyson, this isn’t you. This isn’t the person you wanted to become. This isn’t who you are supposed to be.”

  “You don’t know me,” he barked, his face turning redder and redder each second that past. “You don’t know who I’ve become.”

  “Yes, but I do know who you were,” I promised. “And I can still see that boy in those eyes sometimes, fighting like hell to come back to life.”

  “You don’t know anything,” he argued.

  “I know you miss your wife.”

  His jaw went slack, and he narrowed his eyes. That hit him hard. Those cold, gray eyes… “You should stop speaking.”

  “Yes, you’re right, I should, but I won’t because I get it. I know you miss her, Greyson, and I know when you look at your daughters, you see so many parts of her in their eyes, and that has to be hard. I’m sure sometimes it feels as if grief is swallowing you whole, but you can’t allow it to consume you. You have two beautiful daughters who are looking toward you for guidance and love, and the last thing they need is this, this monster version of you that randomly shows up and rocks their world sideways.”

  Even though my voice trembled, I stood tall before Greyson. I knew this wasn’t him, this ghost of a man. Sure, we’d missed a few years, but deep down inside of his darkness was the boy I’d once loved so much, the gentle boy, the kind boy, the boy who’d saved me.

  I had to believe my Grey still lived inside of this man. Otherwise, the world was lost.

  “Well, aren’t you a know-it-all,” he sarcastically remarked.

  “No, but I know enough.”

  He huffed at my words, obviously irritated that I had the nerve to speak to him in such a manner. “Then, please, Eleanor, do tell me. It seems you have been sent to me to tell me about all my faults. You’re here to throw your truths into my face about me and my family, so tell me! Tell me what it is that my children need?!”

  “Their father!” I cried, my voice cracking as I marched toward him. I still wasn’t backing down, which somewhat surprised me. Maybe because this felt personal. Maybe it was because I knew what it felt like to be those girls, because all the words I’d never yelled at my father were now pouring out of my soul. So, I couldn’t back down, because my heart was pounding too hard in my chest. I couldn’t back down, because my soul knew how important it was to help Greyson find his way home. We were face-to-face, his breaths heavy with annoyance, my chest puffing in and out from my irritation at him being so shut off. His hot
exhalations hissed against my skin, and each time he blinked, I waited for his stare to return to mine.

  There was such a heavy tension in the space. Each inhale felt harder than the last, and my heartrate never took the time to slow down. I would’ve kept the intensity going, too, if it wasn’t for one small thing.

  Every so often, he’d blink, and he’d look absolutely shattered. As if every single piece of his soul was being set on fire.

  Out of all of the emotions that sat within Greyson the one that shone through the most was his exhaustion. He seemed on the brink of exhaustion as he looked at me.

  For the first time since I stormed into his office, I studied his face; the curves, the creases, the lines.

  His lips…the way they turned upside down into sadness.

  His eyes...the way they told the history of his past.

  I backed down.

  I was the one to break, because it was clear there was nothing left to shatter within him.

  “It’s you, Greyson…” I looked away and brushed my thumb against my chin. My shoulders rounded forward in defeat and I shook my head gently. “They just need you.”

  The room filled with silence as he kept his stare on me.

  I took a step backward. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I was out of line.”

  “Yes, you were.”

  “I just wanted to say—”

  “You’re fired,” he blurted out.

  “Wait, what?”

  “It’s clear that you have a problem with the way my household is run, therefore this is not the right match for us all.”

  My chest tightened as panic started rushing through my entire being. “But, I mean, I know I was out of line…”

  “Exactly, and that’s all there is to it. Strike three.” He turned his back to me, and lowered his head as he gave me one last order. “Close the door on your way out.”

  39

  Eleanor

  “Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Claire exclaimed that afternoon as Lorelai came racing out of her bedroom toward her grandmother. She had come over to pick up the girls for their weekend get together. Lorelai leaped into Claire’s arms for a tight hug as I stood there stunned.

  “It’s Lorelai’s birthday?” I asked as Claire released her granddaughter and told her to go pick up her weekend bag. “I had no clue. We could’ve celebrated.”

  “Yes, she’s six today.” She glanced toward Greyson’s office. “How’s he doing today? I’ve been calling him all day but he’s been ignoring my calls.”

  I stood in the living room, still stunned from my interaction with Greyson. “He actually fired me.”

  “What?” Her eyes widened with concern. “Over what?” I explained to her what had happened, and she took a deep breath. “Oh, I see. Poor Lorelai.”

  “She was heartbroken.”

  “Everyone in this house is heartbroken,” she agreed. “I should’ve known this would be a tough time for everyone. I was just truly hoping it would bring Greyson closer to his girls, instead of pushing him away.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Today’s the one year anniversary of the accident.” She lowered her head and sniffled. “I felt it over the past few weeks, Greyson retreating a little. I know he’s been cold since it happened, but I felt him getting colder.”

  I swallowed hard, feeling awful, knowing I’d just snapped on him while having no idea about his personal struggles. Of course he was struggling—how could he not?

  “I had no clue,” I confessed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed him.”

  “It’s not your fault. You had no idea.”

  I heard her words, and yet, a tightness still remained in my chest. I felt nothing less than guilt.

  When I had stormed into Greyson’s office, I’d entered not only as a concerned nanny, but as a daughter who had many times been swallowed by anger at a father who’d emotionally abandoned me. I had gone in without a clear head and said things I shouldn’t have said. I’d barged into his space, and snapped not only for Lorelai, but for me, for every child who felt invisible to their parents.

  While I had been hollering about the unjust situation at hand, I hadn’t had a clue about the storm Greyson was battling on his own.

  Claire placed a hand on my shoulder and gave me a light squeeze. “You’re apologizing for pushing him, but I feel like that’s what needs to happen. Greyson needs a wake-up call from someone. He needs to be pushed, so thank you for that. Thank you for forcing him to break out of his slumber.”

  “I don’t know if it helped him at all, and it doesn’t matter much anyway since he fired me.”

  Claire gave me a smile and shook her head back and forth a bit. “Give it the weekend. He just needs to get through it, that’s all. One day at a time. You’ve outlasted all the other nannies by months, and that has to count for something. So, don’t go dusting off your resume just yet. Let some of the smoke clear.”

  I should’ve headed home after Greyson fired me. I should’ve been curled up on my couch with a novel and tea, but I couldn’t do it because that felt wrong. I couldn’t wrap my head around leaving Greyson on what would be the loneliest, hardest night of his life.

  He had stayed on the phone with me for hours the night my mother passed away, never once walking away. I owed him the same thing he’d given me—companionship.

  After some time had passed, I walked to Greyson’s front door and knocked, but he didn’t answer, even though I could see him through the window. He stood in the living room, staring at the roaring fire, holding something in his hands.

  I knocked once more, and he didn’t move in the slightest.

  With a deep breath, I took out my keys and unlocked his front door. I was already fired—

  what was the worst he could do now? Call the cops on me for breaking and entering with the key he’d given me?

  I’d take my chances with that.

  “Greyson,” I said softly, moving in his direction.

  He didn’t react to my voice, not even a flinch, as if he hadn’t heard me.

  “Greyson, are you okay?” I walked closer to him, my nerves building up with each step. He turned around slowly, and when I saw his eyes washed over with emotion, my chest tightened.

  He’d been crying. He had to have been.

  No one’s eyes could’ve been that red and puffy if there wasn’t some kind of emotion spilling from them.

  In his hands were Lorelai’s drawings.

  “I’m fine,” he replied, turning back to the fireplace.

  “I… It just looks like—” I started, but he cut me off.

  “I thought I made it clear that your services were no longer needed here.”

  “Yes, you did. I got that message loud and clear.”

  “Then why are you still here?”

  “Because you need me.”

  “I don’t. Please leave,” he whispered the last two words, but his voice shook as they left his mouth. The pain sliced through his irritation with me.

  “I can’t.”

  I had to stay because I owed him. I owed him for staying by my side during my low days all those years ago. I owed him because when I had been floating away, he’d pulled me back to the shore.

  “I can’t leave you like this, Greyson, not today of all days.”

  He sighed. “Claire told you.”

  “Yes. I’m so, so sorry. I cannot imagine what you’re going through, but I know you shouldn’t have to go through it alone.”

  He lowered his head and his shoulders slumped, but he still wouldn’t turn to look my way.

  “If you want me to go, I’ll go. I’ll go and I won’t come back. By morning, I’ll be out of your hair, and you’ll never have to hear from me again, but if there’s any part of you that wants me to stay…if there’s any part of you that doesn’t want to be alone tonight, just tell me. Tell me, and I’ll stay. We don’t even have to talk. You can keep your back to me all night long, but I won’t leave you. You don’t have
to be alone tonight.”

  “It’s Friday night… Don’t you have some place to be?” he asked.

  “Yes.” I nodded. “And I’m right there.”

  He remained still for a while longer and I was certain that was my cue to go, but as I turned to leave, he took a step toward his liquor tray. He placed the drawings down, then reached below, grabbed two glasses, and set them down.

  He lifted the bottle of whiskey and turned my way.

  His bottom lip twitched a little, and he locked those gray eyes with mine.

  Those sad, sad eyes.

  He parted his lips and said, “Do you drink whiskey?”

  I hadn’t expected him to ask me to stay, but when he’d reached for that bottle, a breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding had slipped through my lips.

  It turned out even the loneliest souls never truly wanted to be alone.

  “Sure.”

  He nodded once and poured the brown liquor into the glasses.

  He then picked them up and handed one my way. We moved over to the couch and sat down, him on the right, me on the left, and we didn’t speak a word. He sat beside me, our glasses in our hands and exchanging no words. It was so still, silence expanding to and from each wall of the empty house. All that was heard were our small sips, and our breaths.

  When he inhaled, I released a breath. When he exhaled, I took one in.

  We stayed like that for a while, both getting intoxicated and not talking about it. He poured us more drinks until the whiskey was all gone. It wasn’t until a bit of time passed, and drunkenness found him that Greyson cleared his throat.

  My eyes quickly moved to him and I noticed how his upright posture had shifted. He wasn’t as tense. His body relaxed somewhat, settling in as his lips parted.

  “I owe you an apology,” he confessed, his voice so low. “For the way I was treated you today.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not. I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.” He glanced my way before looking back down to his now empty glass. “I don’t know how to exist around you sometimes.”

  “What do you mean?”