Chapter 13 Griffin
Griffin
Griffin loses track of how much time he spends lugging around boxes in Aria’s garage, but after a while, they have amassed a healthy stack of boxes marked for the shelter. Both he and Aria step back and pause, admiring their handiwork.
“Where do these need to be loaded?” Griffin asks.
Aria waves him off. “Oh no. The organization will come by with their truck, but thanks for the offer.”
A quiet falls between them as their task ends. Griffin wonders if Aria is feeling the same disappointment that’s settled inside him, but he doesn’t linger on that thought long. What Griffin wants is more time together.
“We never really got around to talking about The Late Night Show, huh?” he says.
“Oh, that’s right!” Aria’s surprise edges close to excitement.
Aria can do these sorts of interviews in her sleep, so it’s probably up to Griffin to take the lead.
The simplest solution would be to chat briefly about it now.
But Griffin doesn’t want to discuss The Late Night Show now because then he wouldn’t have a good excuse to see Aria before the taping next Monday.
“Do you have any time tomorrow?” Griffin wonders if he’s testing his luck as he says the words, asking a world-class pop star if she has even more time for him.
“Sure!”
The reply is bright, not a hint of bothered, and possibly even enthusiastic. Griffin latches on at once. “Perfect. I’ll be done with practice by three. What’s your schedule?”
Aria pulls out her phone. “I don’t have meetings tomorrow, and it’s my day off from writing. Well, the one I give myself.”
“Do you need any more help with the garage?”
Aria bursts into laughter, and Griffin squints back in confusion. “What? I’m serious.”
“I’m not going to take advantage of your kindness,” Aria says warmly, the laughter not yet completely run out.
“I’m a Midwestern guy at heart. We help a neighbor out.”
“How about we grab some coffee? There’s a place close to the stadium that’s amazing—it’s an old house, so they have these cozy little rooms where I can usually fly under the radar. I’m rarely ever over there, so this gives me a great excuse to meet you on your turf.”
“Great! Text me the details and you’re on.”
When they say goodbye Griffin pulls Aria into a friendly side hug before climbing into his Bronco.
Griffin leaves feeling lighter, buoyed by the down-to-earth fun he and Aria had today.
That’s the thing about being a public figure: There’s always someone willing to do the hard stuff for you, always someone to pay to do the boring stuff.
But sometimes that’s where the unexpected comes from, or those are the moments when the simple delights in life are highlighted—the satisfaction of a job well done, the afterglow of helping out a friend, laughing with someone new.
As the country roads turn slowly into city streets, Griffin becomes more certain about the fact that Aria is someone special. He can’t wait to see her tomorrow.