Chapter 26 Hollis
There is sand in my shoe.
Each step I take feels like I’m walking on tiny little pebbles. It takes my already foul mood and worsens it.
The sun and the salt didn’t help. Everywhere I turned, there was a reminder of Larissa.
A blonde in a bikini the same green color as the dress Riss wore to Jack’s event.
There was a succulent in an oversized terra-cotta pot by the lifeguard’s shack.
A woman was walking with a black Labrador and a little boy was tossing a football up in the air, as if the universe was taunting me with what could’ve been.
Is it going to be like this when I get home?
My suitcase is in the trunk of my car. Check-out has been completed at the hotel. Grandma Judy’s shop was closed, but I shoved a piece of paper under the door and thanked her for everything.
I’ve sat in this room for a half of an hour and waited to be called to the podium. The Landry’s have created a fun environment backstage and I just can’t enjoy it.
I think I’m broken.
Maybe broken-hearted.
“Hey, Hollis, my man,” Lincoln Landry says, coming into the room. He shakes my hand but then pulls me into a man-hug. “How are you?”
“Excited to be here,” I say with zero enthusiasm.
He quirks a brow. “Don’t pass out from all that excitement or anything.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” I suck in a deep breath. “It’s been a long week.”
“That’s what I heard. Hey, while I have you here, can you do me a favor?”
Can I do him a favor?
I want to tell him that I’m the guy you call to fuck everything all up, not save the day. But how do you say no to him? You don’t.
“Of course,” I say. “Whatever you want.”
He grips my shoulder. “Danielle has a special guest here this evening. She sat her down with some cookies in the back and then vanished. I don’t know if Dani thought I was the entertainment committee around here tonight or what, but you know, I have to pretend to be a professional.
I need to be with the people.” He motions toward the stage. “Will you help me out?”
I’m so, so confused. But it’s Lincoln, so of course I’m going to say yes.
“Uh, sure. What do you want me to do?” I ask.
He looks relieved. “Thanks, Hollis. Just, um, go into the blue room. Did you see the area where the refreshments are?”
I nod. I saw it but didn’t partake. I didn’t want to hurl.
“Just head back there.” He gives me a wide, million-dollar smile. “I’ll have someone come and get you before it’s your turn. I’ll talk to you afterward, okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Um, Lincoln, but I …” But he’s already gone. “Well, shit.”
I take a deep breath and pull out my phone.
There are no missed calls or messages. I don’t know why I hoped there would be one. I wouldn’t reach out to me again, either.
“This is it,” I tell myself as I enter the hallway. “This is the start of the rest of your life. It could’ve gone one direction, but you chose this. Now you get to live with it.”
The path less traveled has never felt truer.
I hum a few bars of the refrain that Coy and I were playing together. It’s an attempt to distract myself, but what it really does is remind me that my world was very different not long ago.
I was at Siggy’s drinking craft beer, making music with one of the hottest musicians in the world … and I had the girl of my dreams smiling at me.
I want to cry. I want to slide my back down the wall and just collapse on the floor and cry.
Is this what it feels like to actually want to be with someone? Why would anyone want to feel this way? It’s bullshit.
I straighten my tie and pause outside of the refreshments room. The other award winners are gathered at the far end of the hall. We laughed and shot the shit earlier. They’re pretty good guys.
They wave and shout for me to join them.
“I’ll be there in a second,” I tell them.
Loosening my shoulders, I step inside the room.
And then I stop.
“Grandma Judy?” I ask, bewildered. “I … What are you doing here?”
She’s wearing a pale blue and white dress with black grandmotherly shoes that look like bricks. She sits, smiling, as I walk toward her.
“Am I not allowed here?” She laughs. “Come give me a hug, you naughty boy.”
I press my tie to my chest and bend down. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek. I’m taken aback by how natural it feels to interact with her like this.
She pulls back and fixes my hair.
“Did you come to make sure I don’t look like a mess?” I ask her, sitting beside her.
“Heavens, no. I don’t think you could look like a mess if you tried.” She bumps my shoulder with hers. “And I think you know that. And I think that’s a part of your problem.”
“Before we get to my so-called problems, how the hell did you find me here?”
“Hollis, honey, Savannah is a small town. I’ve known the Landry kids since they were pups. They used to come in and get donuts on Saturday mornings. Barrett, the eldest Landry boy, worked for me one summer to pay his dad back for wrecking his car.”
I grin.
“They’re good kids. All of them. Barrett was governor of Georgia. Can you believe that?”
“Nope,” I say and then laugh. “Judy, I have no idea who you’re talking about, but I’m happy they make you happy.”
She pats my leg. “Well, anyway, that’s how I found you.”
I nod my head and sit in silence. She doesn’t speak, just lets me have a moment to wrap my brain around this day.
Finally, she sighs. “Can we talk about your problems now?”
“Is that why you came all the way over here?”
“No. It was to see your sweet little face. But I figure I should lend an ear since I’m here.”
I sink back against my chair. “There’s been no change in anything.”
“Meaning you haven’t fixed things with Larissa.”
I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “I assume you know her too.”
“I might.”
“Now who is the rascal?”
She looks proud of herself. She makes a face and reaches up, fluffing her hair.
I laugh.
“Okay, enough playing,” she tells me. “I tried to give you time to come to your senses. Now we’re going to be serious.”
I get to my feet, wiping my sweaty palms down my pant legs.
I’m in shock. This has to be shock. This wonderful lady that didn’t know me a week ago came here to see me.
I feel … less alone.
Still, I can’t let her presence undermine what is necessary.
I have to leave. Move forward. Accept the loss, hit the locker room, and get ready for another game tomorrow.
“I’m going to be fine,” I say. “I’m going to go home, and I’m going to get back to my life that feels a hell of a lot better than this, by the way.”
“Well, it’s a damn good thing that most people don’t subscribe to that theory, or the human population would be extinct.”
I quirk a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Have you ever thought about pushing something the size of a watermelon out of a hole the size of a pea?”
I make a face. “No. I haven’t. But I get where you’re going with this, and I don’t appreciate the visual.” I shake my head. “I’m never having kids for sure now.”
“Oh, it’s not like you have to do the work.”
“But, like, I’ll be the cause of that. Why doesn’t anyone tell kids that in high school? You wanna ruin that pus—never mind.”
She snorts. “I’m old but not dead, Hollis. I know what you were going to say.”
“Good. Then I don’t have to say it.”
“If women lived by your motto, we’d never give birth. Humanity would be wiped out. But we don’t. Do you want to know why?” she asks.
“Because you like to have sex?”
“Because, smart-ass, we know that you have to go through some pain to enjoy the pleasure.”
My lips twitch. “Grandma Judy, I’m letting that one sit right there. I’m not going to touch it.”
“You won’t when you imagine a watermelon coming out of it,” she says smugly.
My jaw drops. “Judy!”
“That was good, huh? See? I still have it together up here.” She taps the side of her head. “I’m quick.”
“Yeah. Let’s just gently transition this conversation out of the bedroom, okay?”
She smiles. “Then I’ll get to the point.”
“Please do.”
Judy takes a deep breath. “The best things in life require work. Sometimes that means pain. You play football. Doesn’t a win taste a little sweeter after you make a comeback? Or when you score the last shot of the game that you weren’t supposed to hit?”
“Um, point made but it’s football. Not basketball. And that thing you just said? It doesn’t really track.”
She runs a hand through the air like it doesn’t make a difference.
“It’s the same with having kids. You have to endure the worst pain of your life before you have them.
It’s like … sometimes you can’t have the best things if you don’t prove you want it.
Why would God bless you if you just walk around with your hand out like a spoiled child? ”
I sit down beside her. My body calms, and my brain slows down from the race it’s been running all day.
She leans toward me, her voice low and pain-filled.
“The worst time of my life—the time I wasn’t sure I could make it—is when I lost my Ronnie.
Our house just burned down, and one of our sons had passed away from colon cancer.
” Her voice breaks. “And he collapsed in my living room, and I couldn’t do anything for him.
I called the paramedics, and they came, but he was gone. Took his last breaths in my arms.”
Fuck.
She takes a handkerchief from her purse and dabs her eye.
“Hey, now,” I say, pulling her into me. “Don’t cry. One of us has to be tough today.”
Judy chuckles and sits back up. She sniffles.
“It still hurts,” she tells me. “Every day, I think about him. I miss him so much that I think I’ll lose my mind someday over it. I work at this age because, if I don’t stay busy, I sit at home and cry.”
“Judy,” I say, my heart breaking.
“But I wouldn’t trade it. Not a single day of it. I’d live for another hundred years and miss him like this if I had to give up the years we had together.” She smiles sadly at me. “We weren’t put on this earth to be alone, sweet boy.”
“Yeah …”
My spirits sink. She makes so much sense, but it’s so much of a risk. There’s too much of a risk.
“You have so much love to give,” she says, looking me earnestly in the eye. “And you have a big old hole right here,” she says, patting my chest with her old, wrinkly hand, “for someone to fill up. Now, I have every intention of helping scoop some love in there for you. But I’m a slow scooper.”
I laugh, holding her hand to me. “You scoop just fine.”
“So does someone else I know.”
I blow out a breath as she withdraws her hand.
“Look, you’re going to be miserable either way,” she says, speaking frankly.
“And I guarantee you that Larissa is as distraught as you are. So be miserable together. It’s better than being miserable alone.
And if it doesn’t work out, then it wasn’t the door for you.
” She leans toward me and whispers. “But I’m pretty sure it is. ”
We look up as a head pops around the door. A bald man walks in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt. But, Judy, Lincoln asked me to take you to your seat. Hollis, are you ready?” he asks.
I nod.
Judy gets to her feet with my assistance. She motions for me to bend down. When I do, she kisses my cheek again, squeezing the other side of my face in the process.
“Don’t be scared,” she whispers. “Grandma is with you.”
She lets go of me and walks out with the usher.
I take in a deep breath and feel my heart start to pound.
So much of what she said made sense. Victory is so much sweeter when you have to work for it.
But is that what this is with Larissa? Me working for it?
I pace around the room, mulling over what Judy said.
What if I fuck it all up? What if she walks away when she sees how messed up I am? What if she can’t handle me when I can’t sleep for days at a time because I have nightmares? Will she be embarrassed when we go places, and I never have anyone in the stands for me?
Warmth fills me when I realize that Judy will be out there today.
Someone will be here for me.
I scrub a hand down my face. Panic starts to set in.
I would never want Larissa to think I wasn’t there for her.
But … you’re not, Hudson. She’s in pain right now—pain that you caused by being a total jerk—and she’s alone.
And you made her alone. You pushed her away.
Sweat dots my brows as I pace the room. I dig my phone out of my pocket and find her number. I don’t know how this will work out, or if she’ll even talk to me. Maybe she’ll say she’s had enough of me, but I have to try. She has to know that I love her.
My stomach drops.
The phone rings—once, twice, three times.
“Pick up,” I plead. “Pick up, Riss.”
The line clicks. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not availab—”
Her voice is a balm and buckshot.
I end the call.
Me: Riss, if you’re avoiding me, I get it. I understand. Please answer.
I wait for a response.
Nothing.
“Hollis,” the usher says, reappearing out of nowhere. “We’re just about ready.”
“I’m coming. Yeah. Sorry.” I walk toward the door.
Me: I’m so sorry. I was a dick.
“This way, please,” the usher tells me.
I don’t want to be here. I need to find her. I have to fix this.
I can’t walk away from her.
Judy is right. Larissa is everything.
I want her to be mine.
She is mine.
Damn it.
We approach the large black curtains that separate the back of the stage with the audience out front. Someone drones on about their experiences, and I tune them out.
I punch her number again.
My foot taps against the floor as I listen to the line ring.
Pick up, Riss. Pick up, baby.
My stomach churns.
I’m so sorry.
“Hollis Hudson!” Lincoln’s voice saying my name in the mic grabs my attention.
Shit.
The line picks up, and my heart jumps in my chest. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not available. Please leave a message after the tone, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thanks!”
Beep.
The usher touches my elbow. “Go on,” he whispers.
I nod and turn back to the phone. “Riss, baby, it’s Hollis. I bet you fucking hate me, and I deserve it, but please, please talk to me. Let me explain or try to explain. Shit, I don’t know. I gotta go on stage now, but … I love you. Okay? Fuck. I’ll call you back.”
The curtains are parted for me, and I have no time to reflect on my message.
I walk up the steps to a round of applause.