by Leah Atwood
“Can I pick you up for church this Sunday?” He gave her puppy dog eyes, and she felt bad that he felt he’d disappointed her.
Reaching over, she put her hand over his. “I’d like that.”
Her phone rang and her dad’s number appeared on the screen. It wasn’t unusual for her parents to call during the day, so she ignored it and would call back after leaving the coffee shop. If it was important, he’d leave a message.
Jeff moved his hand from hers to check his watch. “Are you finished? Mrs. Moreaux should be back in her office now.”
She took a final sip and swallowed. “I’m ready.” Her phone rang again. This time Angela, who never called unless it was important, was calling. “Hi, Ang. What’s up?”
“Are you on your way back yet?” There was a definite false pretense of calm to her tone.
“No, but I will be soon. What’s wrong?” She ran through a laundry list of items that could have gone awry.
“I’ll explain when you get here, but I think you should get here ASAP.” Angela’s voice was undoubtedly strained now.
“Just tell me.” It couldn’t be good, not to have Angela’s steadiness wavering.
Angela spoke in a smoother tone this time. “It’s not something to discuss over the phone. Everything will hold until you get here.” She hung up before Dani could say another word.
“Something is wrong at the restaurant.” Already, she was moving to the trashcan to throw away her cup.
“What is it?” Jeff threw his trash in after hers.
“I don’t know. Angela won’t say.” A ball lodged in her throat, imagining all the possibilities. She hated unknowns.
“I’ll drop the forms off and get right out. I’m sure it’s nothing major.” He patted her shoulder in a pacifying manner.
It didn’t work—her stomach remained in knots. “I hope not.”
True to his words, Jeff was in and out of the bank, and then got her back to Oden Bridge in record time. “Want me to wait around?”
“No, go back to work. I’ll handle whatever it is.” One hand was already on the door handle.
“Okay. I’ll call you tonight.”
Before he could get out to come around, she was already halfway to the restaurant’s door. She rushed into the kitchen. “Angela, where are you? What’s going on?” Everything in the kitchen looked fine, eliminating many of the possibilities she’d considered.
Her assistant walked into the kitchen with a long face. “Let’s go to the office. Mr. Gil is waiting for you.”
Dad? Dani crinkled her eyes, confused. She took long steps to reach the office. Her father sat in a chair, his mouth drawn tight and eyes red.
She licked her lips. “Dad, what’s going on?”
He came to her, and his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed hard. Whatever he had to say, she knew it wasn’t going to be easy. “I have to tell you some bad news.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes. Tell me already, she wanted to scream. Unthinking, she reached out and grabbed her dad’s arm. “What?”
Her dad swallowed again and his eyes went glassy. “Gramps had a heart attack.”
No, not Gramps. “How is he? Is he going to be okay?” The questions spilled out.
“I’m sorry, honey.” Her dad paused and took a deep breath. “He didn’t make it.”
The floor came closer as her knees turned to jelly and wouldn’t support her. Her dad slipped his arms around her, embracing her in a hug, offering comfort that only a parent knew how to give. The tears came in waves, soaking her father’s shirt, but he didn’t complain, only continued to hold her.
“When?” she asked, the sobs subsided enough to speak.
“Earlier this morning. Gram said he wasn’t feeling well, but insisted on doing some work outside. When he didn’t come in for breakfast, she went to check on him and found him on the shed floor.” He wiped at his eyes, and Dani saw he had spilled a tear as well. Gramps and he were closer than any other son and father-in-law she’d ever known. “She called nine-one-one, and they got him to the hospital, but it was too late. Apparently, his heart’s been bad for some time.”
Moving from the safety of her dad’s arms, she sat down in the chair behind her desk. She stared at the blank computer screen, lost in grief. “Where’s Mom?”
“At the hospital with Gram.” He handed her a tissue when she started crying again.
“How is… I mean, is she doing okay?” The question was impossible to word—of course she wasn’t.
“Gram is holding up. I suspect she knew it was coming and made her peace with it.” He sighed, and Dani noticed he looked like he had aged by ten years since she’d seen him yesterday. “Your mom is having a more difficult time. I’m going back to her after I leave here.”
“Can I ride with you?” She wanted to be surrounded by family but didn’t trust herself to drive.
He gave her a sad smile. “You know you can.”
“Give me five minutes to situate everything here.” She shuffled some papers, not knowing what she was doing.
“What can I help you do?” Coming behind the desk, he stood by her.
When he put his arm around her, she fell apart again. Gramps couldn’t really be gone. She was supposed to have lunch with him and Gram yesterday after church, but she’d rescheduled. There was no rain check now. Why hadn’t she gone? Why’d she put the restaurant first when the paperwork could have waited till today? She’d give anything to go back twenty-four hours and change her decision.
Her dad rubbed her back in circular motions until she calmed down again. “He knew you loved him, honey. Gramps was so proud of you, chasing your dream and making Bayou Bits a success.”
Had she spoken out loud, or did her dad know what she needed to hear. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, too.” His voice was choked with emotion, and she was overwhelmed with gratefulness for his presence in her life.
Angela, who had discreetly disappeared, returned and knocked on the door. “I’m sorry about your grandfather.”
Dani nodded, afraid to speak again.
“I have everything covered here today, so don’t worry about the restaurant. If you need me to step in the next few days, I will, but if you want to close, I understand.” She came closer to the desk, her eyes full of compassion. “Whatever you need to do, you have my support.”
“Thank you.” Her hands trembled. “I’m going with Dad to the hospital. I’ll call you tonight with my decision.” She gathered her purse and stood with shaky legs. For the first time, she walked out without leaving a single note of instruction or reminders.
Chapter 11
“What do you think?” Rob held his breath as he sat in the basement studio of Bryce’s house, waiting for an answer.
Bryce took his time, his head still angled down to read the paper. Finally, he looked up. “You’re a genius. The lyrics, the composition—I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this talent all these years.”
A long sigh of relief expelled from his chest. “You like it?”
“I love it. Are you sure about this?”
“It’s time.” Gulping, he swallowed what felt like his heart in his throat.
He’d done it. He finished the song he’d started writing before Carrie was killed. It was going to be a gift to her, and he’d planned to sing it at their wedding that never happened. For years, he’d struggled to find the right words to complete the song, knowing he had to, but not wanting to shut that door.
That’s what it felt like he was doing, closing a chapter of his life. Since the fateful night of the tour over a month ago, changes were happening. He’d reclaimed his life. One day at a time, the decade-old fog was lifting. He’d been attending church on a regular basis, finding his way back to a faith he realized was impossible to outrun. Did he still have questions? Yes, but he was starting to accept he didn’t need all the answers. It was a long, strenuous process that was continuous in nature, but he didn’t give up.
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��I’ll call Caroline next week and get a contract worked out for sale of rights.” Bryce looked at the paper again, humming the melody.
“You misunderstood.” Rob shook his head. “It’s not for sale.”
“Huh?” Bryce’s eyebrows formed a V shape. “I guess I did confuse your intent.”
“I’m not selling it.” Smiling, he winked. “I’m giving it to you.”
“I can’t accept that.” Hands up, Bryce protested the gift. “Do you know how much you stand to lose, giving this away?”
He shrugged. “It’s not as though any of us are hurting for cash, and even so, I’ll still make money once we record it.” This one was special, it was for Carrie. It was his way of honoring her memory and making a profit on it wasn’t his priority. “You have the vocals to give it justice, that’s what matters.”
“How many songs have you written altogether?”
“Over fifty.” He cracked his knuckles.
“Man, why didn’t you tell me this when we were looking through songs for the last album?” Bryce grinned. “Between my songs and yours, we could have knocked it out of this world.”
“Because platinum wasn’t good enough?” He smiled back. They both knew how fortunate their careers had been.
“True. Do you have plans for the rest?”
“I’ve set up a meeting with our label execs next month to pitch some of them. There’s a few songs I have certain artists in mind for. And then there’s some I thought we could record.”
The blaring ringtone on Bryce’s phone interrupted them.
“That’s odd.” Bryce’s eyebrows wrinkled after taking a glance at the screen. “I wonder why my father’s calling. Excuse me a minute.” He stood and walked to the opposite side of the room.
A few seconds later, Rob heard a gasp and looked over to see Bryce pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, and the hand holding his phone was shaking. He nodded his head occasionally and grunted, “okay,” a few times. The call ended with Bryce saying, “I love you,” presumably to his father. That was odd—even though it was improving, Bryce and his dad didn’t have that kind of relationship.
Slipping his phone into his pants pocket, Bryce walked back and sank into a chair. Clearly upset, his unsteady hands tapped against his legs.
“What’s wrong?” Rob leaned forward.
Bryce stared into space. After several moments, he answered, his gaze still transfixed on an unknown spot. “Gramps passed away this morning. He had a heart attack.”
“I’m really sorry.” Rob clasped his hands in front of him, not sure what to do. Did he give his friend a hug, a pat on the shoulder?
“I can’t…” Bryce trailed off, his eyes blinked. Standing up, he turned to face away.
Rob went to him, stood beside him. “Gramps was a good man. I only had the privilege of meeting him a few times, but I enjoyed getting to know him. That final conversation with him changed my life.”
Half of Bryce’s mouth turned up. “He was the best. He and Gram believed in me when no one else did. If not for him, I don’t know where I’d be today.” He swiped at his eyes.
They remained in silence. Drawing on his own experience with grief, Rob knew this was one of those times that saying nothing was better than speaking. Filling the quiet with trite clichés would serve no purpose. When Bryce was ready to talk again, he would.
Bryce looked at him through bloodshot eyes. “How am I going to tell Sophie and Gracie? Especially Gracie.” He coughed. “She thinks the sun rises and sets on Gramps.”
“I don’t know.” He drew a long breath, wishing he had better words to offer.
“When her mom passed, she wasn’t old enough to understand death completely. Now, she’s older…” Bryce bit his bottom lip. “I guess I need to start making calls.”
Rob gathered his papers, which were spread out on a low table. “Should I head out or stick around?”
“Do you mind staying?” Bryce swallowed again, and Rob read between the lines.
People grieved differently. There were some who needed to be alone, and other who needed to be around friends and family. Bryce fell into the latter category.
“Not at all.” He made a mental note to call and reschedule a maintenance appointment planned for the Jeep later in the afternoon. “What can I do?”
Bryce rubbed his jaw. “Would you mind calling Madison and asking her to cancel all my obligations for the next week?”
“I’m on it.” Madison was Caroline’s assistant and had been placed in charge while Caroline and Jay were on their honeymoon.
“I guess I need to call Sophie at school first. Or should I go there and tell her?” He looked at Rob as though he were the expert. “And Gracie…”
“Why don’t you go to them?” He glanced at the digital clock on the wall. “Isn’t the school day almost over?”
“True, and even so, the principal will understand a personal visit of this nature though.” Bryce rubbed his eyes again. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t worry about time. Should I call Adam and Jay?”
“I’ll call Adam. Don’t say anything to Jay or Caroline. I don’t want to detract from their honeymoon.” His voice quivered. He turned on a heel and rushed up the stairs.
Sensing his friend needed a moment of privacy, Rob gave him a few minutes before he went upstairs. By then, Bryce had already left. Rob went to the kitchen, grabbed a drink, and then went outside on the deck to make phone calls. First, he called Madison, who offered a condolence and assured him she’d clear Bryce’s schedule. She also promised not to mention the news to Caroline.
Work-related issues taken care of, he called the dealership and rescheduled his appointment for the end of next week. Since it was routine maintenance, the oil change and tire rotation could wait a few more days.
Thoughts of Dani crossed his mind. His chest constricted thinking of what she must be feeling. He wanted to comfort her, but she had a boyfriend for that.
You can still be a friend.
Yes, he could. A text seemed inappropriate, too impersonal. He wasn’t sure how she’d welcome a call, but it was the best choice in this scenario. He dialed her number, his heart thumping as he listened to the ringtone. When her voicemail answered, he felt a small measure of relief. He could leave a message so she knew he was thinking of her during this time and be done with it.
Dani’s line beeped after her recorded greeting. “Hi Dani, it’s Rob.” He tapped his fingers against the deck railing. “I just wanted to tell you I’m really sorry about Gramps.” He paused, then added, “You’ll be in my prayers.”
He hung up. Whew, that was over. He second-guessed his final sentence. Few people knew of his renewed faith, or that he even had faith. It was still too personal, too raw, as he tried to reconcile everything he’d battled since losing Carrie. Except, he wanted to pray for Dani, do something to ease the pain of Gramps’ death.
Prayers didn’t come naturally to him. He was still rusty in the practice. He stood at the deck’s edge, clasping his hands and draping them over the ledge. “Dear Lord, I’m not real good at this, but I have friends hurting right now. Please give them peace during this time and not be too stubborn, like I was, to accept it.”
The door behind him opened. He pivoted to see Fjolla, Bryce’s housekeeper.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Rob.” A long-time employee, she knew all of Bryce’s close friends and wouldn’t think it odd to see him in Bryce’s house. “Is Mr. Bryce around?”
“No, he had to make a trip to the school.”
Fjolla tilted her head to the side. “Gracie’s not sick, is she?”
“No. Gracie and Sophie are fine.” He deliberated a moment before deciding to tell her what happened. “Bryce’s grandfather passed away this morning. He thought it best to tell Sophie in person instead of calling.”
“Yes.” Her eyes clouded over. “Were you here with my boy when he found out?”
Rob had to smile. Fjolla was so muc
h more than an employee. She cared for Bryce as though he were her child. “Yes.”
“How did he take the news?” She walked closer to him.
“As well as can be expected, I guess.” His shoulders rose then fell. “He left for the school not long after taking the call.”
“He’s lucky to have a good wife and friends to support him during this time.” Fjolla took a deep breath and exhaled. She gripped his arm. “You included.” She released him and stepped back. “Time to get busy.”
She bustled away, but her words left a warm spot in him. He respected the older woman a great deal, and her approval meant a lot to him.
An hour later, Bryce returned with Sophie and Gracie. Sophie’s eyes were red-rimmed and her face blotchy. She greeted Rob with a weak smile. Gracie still had tears running down her cheeks.
“Let’s go change out of your uniform and then you can have a snack.” Sophie sniffed. “If my nose is right, I smell some of Mrs. Fjolla’s chocolate cake.”
“I don’t want cake. I want Gramps.” Gracie’s muffled words were heartbreaking.
Stooping down, Bryce gave his daughter a hug. Sophie and Rob stepped back for a minute, letting father and daughter have their moment.
Eventually, Sophie stepped forward and gently took her stepdaughter’s hand. “Come on, sweetheart.” They walked upstairs in silence.
Bryce stood and ran both his hands through his hair, looking completely helpless. “I don’t know how to take away her pain.”
“Just keep loving her.”
“She’s had more loss than any six-year-old should ever experience.” Bryce’s attention traveled away then came back. “I have a big favor to ask.”
“What’s that?” He shoved a hand into his rear pocket.
“Can you come to Oden Bridge with me tomorrow?” Bryce bit his bottom lip.
Rob hadn’t expected that request. Running into Dani would be inevitable—it would also be awkward. But of course he would go. His friendship with Bryce far trumped any trepidation about seeing Dani.
Ostensibly mistaking his hesitation for denial, Bryce rushed to explain. “I know it’s short notice, but we talked to the principal before we left. A grandparent-in-law doesn’t meet the requirements for bereavement leave, but he excused Sophie from today’s meeting, and can give her off Thursday, Friday, and next Monday for the funeral.” He stopped to clear this throat. “Sophie and I talked on the way home and agreed it would be best for me to leave tomorrow and be with my family beforehand.”