Chapter 15
“Look, Gramma, she’s got her reasons, and it’s no business of ours. Maybe he wasn’t nice. Or maybe he farted in his sleep.”
I snort. It is the saddest snort ever, but it does count as a laugh. Right? Brittney having my back when Gramma attempts to make me see reason and call Rory, makes me feel understood. And that is a good thing, because Gramma wouldn’t let up.
I try to turn the conversation back to the property that I’ve been looking at earlier today. I’ve always dreamed of having a B&B with a kennel and training grounds on the same lot. But it will be too long to earn enough to get started. So I’ll pivot and buy some land to train on and find a B&B nearby that will accommodate my clients. Maybe I’ll rent until I’ve saved enough to build myself a cabin to live in.
“Seriously, why?” Gramma can be stubborn as a mule. “You sounded so happy. He was good for you while he was a lumberjack, so how have things changed, now that you know he’s a musician?” She puts her elbows on the kitchen table and her chin into her hands. With her big doe eyes, she looks me right in the face.
“He’s not just a musician. He’s a friggin’ rock star!” Why can’t she see it? Is this too hard to understand?
Gramma nods. Maybe she got it after all. But then, she adds, “What difference does that make?”
“A musician gets money for making music. A rock star for handing their life over to public scrutiny. For not having a private life anymore.”
“And you are not willing to give up yours?” Brittney takes my hand and squeezes. “I get that. I just hoped this would work out for you, that you’d find true love.”
“Have you?”
“Hello? I’m your sister-in-law—you should know my husband.”
“You are married to Carson and still dream of other men.”
Brittney jerks back. “Sorry?”
“The hornist of Tawpie Tantrum,” I remind her.
Brittney chuckles and shakes her head. “I think you got that wrong. I whet my appetite looking at other men—but I’ll always have dinner at home.” She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms in front of her body. She looks very satisfied with herself. “It’s okay to give your imagination free rein as long as you make them come true with your SO.”
In a way, that makes me more comfortable with other women fantasizing about Rory. Not that it matters anymore.
As I cover my plate with both hands to prevent Gramma serving me yet another piece of cheesecake, I jerk up with a realization. SO! Significant. That’s what Rory is to me. No matter where he is and what he’s doing, he is my SO and there is nothing much I can do about it. I can choose not to be with him, but that will never make him insignificant to me. Not being with him will be endless misery.
Brittney and Gramma sense that something is going on. “What is it, hun?” Gramma asks and just like that, I break out in tears. Goddammit, I had managed not to cry for all this time, but now the dam is broken.
Brittney and Gramma both rub my back and stay by my side until the sobs ebb.
Finally, Gramma tells me in a soft voice, “In life, there are a few turning points. More often than not, we only realize in hindsight that our life altered because of a certain choice we made. Sometimes though, we know. You do now, and that’s a gift. It’s a pain in the neck, too, because with whatever choice you make now, you forfeit moping in later years.”
I scoff. “I’m not even allowed to be unhappy?”
“Unhappy? Yes. But moping is something entirely different. And if you choose what your heart tells you, you won’t be unhappy for long, as you will get over it.”
“What should I do?”
Gramma laughs. “Do as your heart tells you, not your grandmother.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not helpful.”
“Nobody can help you with that. That’s something that requires big girl pants.”
Leave it to Gramma to make me laugh in a situation like this.
I have to win him back, of that I am sure now. Just how can I do that after I’ve left him standing in literal dust?