Chapter Forty-One Love Felt Like This #2
“What’s with the clubhouse party?” Finch asks, leaning a palm on the doorframe. “And where’s my invite?”
“We’re going to a concert,” Nana announces. “Get your shoes on.”
Finch checks his watch. “It’s seven o’clock. Jeopardy! is about to start.”
“Oh, live a little, Finch.”
At her snappy tone, he grins, and his cheeks flush red. “What concert?”
“Griffin’s,” she says.
His eyes widen, and his smile reaches his eyes, deepening his wrinkles. “We are?”
“Let’s not talk about it,” I answer. “Let’s just go.”
Oh God, I’m not actually going to see Griffin, am I?
Yes, I am.
But what if he doesn’t love me anymore, and can’t ever again?
I pull in a deep inhalation, then slowly let it out.
Well, I don’t care if he loves me. Because I love him and this is what people in love do. They make really irrational decisions.
Rob whoops, calling out to nobody, “Hell yeah! I’m going to a Griffin Harvey concert!”
Finch yanks a ticket from Rob’s hand and analyzes it. “Don’t you think we’ll be too late for the VIP thing?”
“We’ll figure it out,” Nana says. “Everyone in the car now. Beverly, you should change.”
“What?” I glance down at my outfit. I’m still in my work clothes from the day. My pants are stained with a ring of coffee from the cup I placed on my thigh midafternoon, and there’s a stroke of something dark on my lower back, likely from slipping and falling on the rolling chairs.
Change.
Right.
After everyone leaves my room, I shut the door and stride to my open closet, sift through a terribly folded pile of shirts, throw aside a skirt, and pick up shoes, only to toss them down again.
I can’t look like I’m trying too hard, right? But I also don’t want him to—I don’t know—regret his album, I guess. I’m a small-town mountain girl. He knows that. But…I don’t know.
I don’t know what I’m saying, okay?!
I clack through hangers of skirts and dresses, and then…I stop short of a lace dress that’s been buried in the back of the closet since I arrived. I stare at it. It’s the vintage angel-sleeved chiffon dress, still in pristine condition from when Griffin bought it for me months ago.
That’s the one.
I tug it off the hanger and immediately strip off my shirt and pants.
After I slide into it, along with nude Mary Jane pumps to match, I stare at myself in the mirror.
It may not be the emerald-green dress I wore to the Grammys, but…
it’s me. It’s gorgeous. And oh my God, I’m actually doing this.
I’m dressing up to go to Griffin Harvey’s concert because he said he loved me.
At some point.
This is too real.
What do I even say?
I know we’re busy and we both have crazy lives, but let’s make this work despite probably never being able to see each other?
What if I’m wrong about everything? What if I’m hurt all over again?
Nana knocks on my door, asking, “Dressed?” only after the door is already open.
“Well?” I hold out my arms, letting the angel sleeves slip down beside me.
“Yes,” she says. “That’s beautiful.”
I bite my bottom lip. “What if I shouldn’t go?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“It’s just…well…we both live such different lives. What am I even asking for here? Hey, let’s get together and then…I don’t know…exist apart? What if we don’t see each other most months of the year because he’s on tour or I’m filming?”
She waves dismissively. “Oh, what if?”
I take a step closer. “No, I’m serious.”
Maybe it’s the way my eyebrows cinch together or that, for once, I can’t think of a single quippy remark, but she grasps my shoulders and nods.
“Okay,” she says. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
“I saw how often Grandpa was away from you.”
“Okay.”
“You said you didn’t regret that, but…how did you…how did you make it work?”
She exhales. “It was…tough. It was tough; I won’t lie.
But Beverly…we lived an absolutely beautiful life.
I got to travel with him, see the world…
and yes, he was gone sometimes. But we sent letters.
We talked on the phone every night. And even though it hurt to be away from him, I wouldn’t have wanted to end my day talking to anyone else.
” Her eyes dart between mine. “Albert died too young. He worked too much. We both knew that. I would have given anything for more time with him. I know he would have too. But any time we did get was worth every single second. Don’t you feel the same way about Griffin? ”
And without hesitation, because my heart knows me better than I do, I say, “Of course.”
Griffin is worth every potential missed call, every single moment of a long night worked, every laugh heard through video texts instead of in bed beside me, and he’s worth all the in-person moments we can get.
A little bit of Griffin Harvey is better than nothing.
“Then go get him,” Nana says. “You can overcome the rest.”
Finch’s head pops around the corner. “I’m starting the car. Bevvy, you all right?”
“Start the car,” I say.
Nana squeezes my shoulders, pats them, then drops her arms. “Let’s go. Finch?”
Finch, beaming, extends his elbow to escort Nana out the door, leaving me in the room by myself. My own smile twitches at the corner of my mouth. I shift from shoe to shoe, clacking my heels together and winding my hands in front of my dress.
I’ve taken exactly four risks in my life.
One, moving to Los Angeles to pursue puppeteering.
Two, depleting my savings account to revive Birds on the Block.
Three, appearing on a live television variety show alone.
And four, falling in love with Griffin Patrick Harvey.
Though now, that seems like hardly a risk at all.
The front door distantly cracks open.
“Beverly, come on!” Rob yells.
I race down the hall and out the open front door, then clack down the concrete steps to the driveway roundabout, where Finch’s car awaits.
But I halt.
On the other side of the opening gate, another car is idling. A back seat tinted window slowly rolls down, and a head of dyed brown hair pokes out.
Smiling at me is Beau.