19. 19
Hayes
Now
Annabelle
Today was a hard one.
Me
I’m sorry to hear that, Annabelle. Want to talk about it?
Annabelle
No, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me.
Me
Yankee, I know I don't have to, but I do. And it’s okay not to be okay. I’ll call you as soon as I leave Rowdy’s house.
Annabelle
Thanks, Hayes.
Me
You have nothing to thank me for, Yankee. I want to be there for you.
A nnabelle usually finishes getting the girls down around 8:00. As soon as the clock on my phone hits the magic number, I shoot off the couch in Rowdy’s man cave and say goodbye to the guys. I really couldn’t care less about the basketball game. I’m just eager to call Annabelle.
As soon as I put my truck into drive, I call her, and she answers on the first ring. Her voice, soft as velvet, oozes through the speakers. “Hi Hayes.”
“How are you? What’s going on?”
She sighs. “The same old bullshit. I’m just… tired. Worn down.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, not really. I feel like I’m caving under the pressure of everything right now. Keeping the house spick and span for house showings. Trying to find a new place for us to live. The girls have been more emotional than normal. Probably because Christmas is next week…”
“I’m guessing the holidays are hard without Kyle.”
“Yeah. The girls seem to feel his absence more deeply at the big events, like Christmas.”
“But you don’t? ”
“No. For me, grief is sneakier. I expect grief on holidays, so I can mentally prepare myself,” she says, letting out a sad sigh.
“But it’s the little things that become emotional landmines, like realizing I added Kyle’s favorite cookies to the grocery cart or hearing a certain song on the radio.
It’s the mundane things that have the power to send me into a tailspin. ”
“Oh, Annabelle. I’m sorry.”
She backtracks, issuing an apology. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this stuff.”
“That’s where you’re fucking wrong, Yankee.
I’m here for you. All of you. The polished, perfect version of you, sure, but most importantly, the messy bits, the sharp edges, the parts of yourself you keep hidden.
That’s the real you, and that’s the Annabelle I want to know.
” Pausing, I exhale. “I know a thing or two about grief, having lost my mom a few years back. Now, I’m not comparing losing a spouse to losing a parent, because they’re different losses.
But I understand the importance of not diminishing your pain and holding space for your grief.
You lost someone important to you, and that isn’t a pain that can be tucked away and forgotten. ”
After losing my mom, I thought I could move past it, but it fucking hurt.
She was my only blood relative, and when she died, the loneliness hit harder than I ever imagined.
The band has always been a dysfunctional family, like brothers to me, but even they couldn't quiet the isolation.
It had always been my mom and me against the world, and suddenly, I was on that island alone.
As I told Annabelle, that's a loss that can't be ignored.
It's a visceral feeling that doesn't disappear.
You just learn how to carry it with you.
But with the help of friends, I leaned on them and waded through the grief until the fog lifted .
Flicking on my blinker, the rhythmic click-click-click is the only sound that fills the cab of the truck for a few moments until I hear Annabelle’s jagged inhalation.
“Let it out, baby. You need to be strong for Grace and Claire, but not for me. Let me be strong for you,” I insist quietly. And when I hear her muffled sobs, I make a U-turn at the next intersection, speeding toward Brentwood instead of downtown.
When was the last time someone was strong for her?
About fifteen minutes later, I pull up at her house. “Hey, open up. I'm out front.”
Startled, Annabelle blurts out, “What? But I look horrible! I’ve been crying the entire time we’ve been on the phone, Hayes.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you look like, Yankee.
I don’t want your forced smiles and fake assurances that you’re fine.
I want to hold you, to see with my own eyes that you're okay.
And if you're not, then I want to be the one to carry you until you're strong enough to stand on your own again.
I'm here for you, Annabelle. For all of you.”
“Even for the messy bits,” she mutters, repeating what I said earlier.
“Especially those bits.”
“And here I thought you preferred my lady bits.”
I smile. “I can’t deny that I enjoyed your lady bits, but that’s not what this is about tonight, Annabelle. And I won’t let you deflect. Now open the goddamn door.”
As soon as her front door cracks open, I push inside and fold her into my arms, stroking the back of her head. The longer I hold her, the more she sinks into my embrace, until she's completely collapsed and I'm propping her up.
“How did you know I needed you?” She whispers, her voice muffled against my chest.
“Because I needed you just as much, Yankee. ”
For a long time, we stand in her foyer, bodies intertwined, without words.
I hold her as she cries. The only words that are exchanged are whispers of encouragement—that I’ve got her, that she isn’t alone, that it’s okay to let down her guard because I’ll protect her.
My hand cups the nape of her neck, smoothing her hair.
My lips drop kisses onto her forehead while her fingers clench the fabric of my shirt.
When her cries slow and then stop altogether, I lead her to the couch in her living room. Sitting down, I tug her onto my lap.
I don’t force her to open up or ask her questions. I simply sit with her in silence, knowing she’ll talk when she’s ready.
When she finally speaks, her voice is ragged.
“It’s stupid, but Grace wants a new bicycle.
One without training wheels. She picked it out from an online ad she saw on the computer.
It’s pink and aqua, and it has a woven basket with flowers on it.
I clicked the button to add it to my shopping cart, and when I went to pay for it, it said, ‘Some assembly required.’” Annabelle wipes her eyes as her voice wobbles.
“It was just one more thing to add to my never-ending to-do list. One more fucking thing Kyle should be here for. He did none of the holiday shopping, but he always stayed up well past midnight on Christmas Eve putting together gifts for the girls. The play kitchen. The trampoline.” Sitting up, Annabelle laughs quietly. “Like I said, it’s stupid, but—”
“But it’s the little things that are the emotional landmines.”
She nods. “Yeah.”
Combing her hair behind her ear, I offer, “I’d be happy to assemble Grace’s bike, Yankee. I’m pretty handy with a wrench.”
“You’d do that?” The pitch of her voice rises, and I hate that she’s surprised I’d be willing to help her. Before I can answer, she immediately shakes her head. “No, no. I can’t ask you to do that, Hayes. I’ll just pay someone to do it.”
“I said I’d do it, and I will, Annabelle. No arguing.”
She peers up at me from under her wet eyelashes. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.”
“Okay, then. Thanks.”
“Got any plans for Christmas?”
“This year, I’m simplifying things because the house is on the market, so we can’t do our usual decorating and holiday baking extravaganza.”
“Family coming in town?”
“No. After Kyle died, we haven’t seen much of our families.
I think being around us is hard for them because we’re reminders of losing Kyle, and…
it’s not easy for me either.” She smiles forlornly before biting her bottom lip.
“The day Kyle died, I stumbled upon evidence that he’d been cheating on me. ”
“Shit, Annabelle,” I mutter, rubbing comforting circles on her back. When we’d met at Tank’s, Annabelle had been vague in what she told me about the demise of her relationship, but she said enough for me to put the pieces together that he’d been unfaithful. So, her admission doesn’t surprise me.
Although I can’t imagine why any man would ever cheat when he had Annabelle as his wife.
“Yeah, it sucks,” she agrees. “Other than you and Laura, I haven’t told anyone that Kyle cheated on me. I’d like to say I kept it quiet so no one would judge him after his death, but I was also embarrassed.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Annabelle. The fact that he cheated shows a defect in his character, not yours.”
“Thanks for saying that.”
“I said it because it’s the fucking truth.”
She offers a wan smile and a slow nod, not quite believing me, but appreciating that I said it, anyway.
“Since I hid Kyle’s infidelity, it’s difficult to be around our families.
I have to hide my emotions from them, playing the role of the weeping widow, which only fosters my resentment and anger.
So, long story not so short, no, we won’t be seeing any relatives for Christmas this year. ”
“Maybe a change of scenery would do you wonders? What about if you and the girls pack up and spend Christmas at the ranch with me?”
“Hayes, that’s a… lovely gesture, but I think… I mean, it’s—”
“Annabelle, I don’t want you to pussyfoot around and be polite with me. Speak your truth, Yankee.”
Straightening her shoulders, she glances up at me.
“Okay. If it were just me, I’d love to spend Christmas with you at the ranch, but I think it’s too soon for that.
I haven’t even told the girls about whatever this is that’s going on between us.
I don’t want to confuse them until we’re on the same page about where this is heading, Hayes. ”
“Read faster, Annabelle. I already reached the end of the book. I’m just waiting for you to catch up.” Brushing her hair off her shoulder, I cradle her face in my hands. “I want you, but I’m willing to wait for you, Yankee. I’ll wait as long as I need to because I’m not going anywhere.”