Chapter 12 - The PO
When Marie came in Thursday morning, Robby was sitting at the table, with coffee and an almost empty plate pushed in front of him. “Cooked too much sausage. You want it?”
“How much did you eat?”
“One sausage, three eggs.”
“Hmmm. Better, and you’re clean and in different clothes. Are they clean?”
He looked up. “Yes, they’re clean. And I brushed my teeth too, Mom.”
“Yay, progress. But it’s raining. Supposed to be clear for the weekend, but chillier. Russell and I are thinking about taking the boys camping. You wanna come? They love their Uncle Robby. Russell said after you left the other night, Guy said you’re the best thing about the pandemic.”
Robby looked up and smiled. “Sweet kid. I might.”
“Okay. Well, I’m off to the shower. Eat that sausage if you want it. I’ll cook more with my eggs.”
He looked up as she was turning. “I might not be here when you get out.”
“Studio?”
“Grand Marais.”
Marie turned back around. “Margie and Charlie?”
“Maybe. Grace agreed to meet and talk.”
“Do you want to tell me?”
“Not until you de-germ. I’ll try to stick around. If I’m not still here, we can talk either when you wake up or tomorrow morning. Not much to say now anyway.”
“Okay.”
Robby stood and picked up his guitar. He played through a progression he’d been working on.
He was missing his notebook. He’d have to get it back .
. . What if she’d destroyed it? Would Grace do that?
That redhead temper thing? Throw it in the lake?
Burn it in the fire ring? He’d never seen her lose her temper, but he’d have to ask her for it.
It could be awkward, but he needed it. He put all that out of his head and walked around with the guitar, singing pieces of lyrics to the chord progression.
He kept at it till Marie came back, wrapped in a long, red fleece robe, a white towel turbaned around her wet hair.
“Just let me get some coffee. You talk.”
Robby stood the guitar up on the sofa, picked up his mug, took a swallow, made a face, walked closer, and extended his arm toward Marie.
“Is there enough for a warmup?” She moved the pot over his mug and poured.
“I sent Grace that email Tuesday asking if she would meet me this morning. She said yes. The lodge owner comes in on Thursdays for supplies and eats at the Lakeside. He’s been doing that for years.
Nice man. Loves Margie and Charlie. Anyway, she’s coming in with him. ”
“What are you going to tell her? You don’t have to answer that.” Marie sipped her coffee and moved farther away.
“What I’ve been thinking. Some conclusions.”
“Have your goals changed?”
“Yes.” He took a sip of coffee. “But I don’t know what that’ll mean to Grace. And I don’t know what she’s thinking. I’m only clearer about where I’m headed. I should go.” He looked at Marie, put his mug in the sink, and went toward the door.
*********
As they got closer to town, it was still raining. “I brought two big umbrellas, and if we don’t bring ‘em back, Nan’ll probably tell us to turn around and go back and get ‘em, but you’re welcome to use one. Where do you want me to drop you? You gonna do some shopping?”
“No. Are you going to the Post Office first?”
“Sure am. You gotta go there too?”
Grace turned to Jim. “I’ll just tell you straight out. I’m no good at beating around the bush.”
“Okay,” Jim said uncertainly.
“I guess y’all figured out Robby and I stopped seeing each other?”
“Yes. Nan and I didn’t want to intrude, but you can come to either of us if we can help. I think you know, we’re fond of you.” He glanced over at her. “We don’t know Robby that well, but he seems like a good person, especially considering . . . who he is.”
“I think he is, too.” She paused and gripped the yellow notebook.
She’d grabbed it at the last minute from the stack of papers she’d buried it in.
If this was the last time she was going to see Robby, she wanted to hand it over.
She sure didn’t want to have it around. “It was me. I got scared about our being together when we don’t know how long the lockdown’s going to last or how strictly it’ll be enforced.
I came up here to get my life — my career — on track.
The last thing I wanted was to get involved with someone.
I don’t know whether I can do a career and a relationship at the same time .
. . yet. I failed miserably the last time.
I’m afraid to lose momentum again with Robby, or to get deeper into a relationship with him and have him leave when the pandemic’s over.
I’m really not sure I’d have it in me to get back up again. ”
“How did he react? I don’t imagine he’s had much experience with rejection.”
She looked at Jim. “That’s what Billy said .
. . Robby was kind. As usual. I mean, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t get mad.
He said he thought it was better to leave than ruin it past fixing.
Then Tuesday, he messaged me to ask if I would meet him in town today.
And here we are. We’re meeting at the Post Office.
” She looked away, fingering the notebook.
“I have no idea what he has to say or how long it will take. I figure if it’s short and not so sweet, he’ll at least drive me to the Lakeside. ”
“I think he would do that. But, if not, you just call me, okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” She turned and looked out her window.
“Before we get to the Post Office, can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer.”
Grace turned back. “Sure.”
“You maybe told me this and I’ve just forgotten. How old are you and how old is Robby?”
“I’m 28. He’s 36. Do you think that’s important?”
“I thought it was something like that. Could be a factor. Could be he’s feeling older and doesn’t want to end up alone.
He doesn’t have the band and the fast life now.
Loneliness is a reality for him, probably for the first time.
But I have to add, Nan and I are in the minority of couples we know who are still together and happy.
Lasting relationships are hard. And there’s less and less holding people together; more and more options.
” He pulled into the near empty parking lot.
“Are you ready? Because we’re here and so is Robby. ”
Grace had been listening intently to Jim, not thinking about the Post Office.
She looked through the windshield and could barely see Robby.
It was raining that hard. He was standing under the overhang of the roof.
Jim said, “Since I’ve got to go in anyway, I’ll stop and chat with Robby.
One of us’ll come get you with an umbrella.
Okay?” Grace nodded. “Oh! We didn’t get around to talking about lunch — the Lakeside, about noon.
Margie’s looking forward to it. She’s got that cherry pie.
” He reached over and squeezed her forearm, then grabbed an umbrella, and ducked out.
“Nice to see you again, Robby. Can’t say much for the weather though. I wish I could shake like a dog.”
“Same here.”
“I think I know the answer, but I want to confirm either you’ll take Grace to the Lakeside or one of you’ll call me so I can pick her up. Agree?”
Robby looked at Jim. “Of course. I’ll take her there.”
“Good. I’ll go back for her,” Jim said, lifting his umbrella. “You planning on talking in your truck or right here?”
“I’ll go get her, and she can decide.” Robby opened his umbrella and stepped into the pouring rain, leaving Jim to watch.
Grace saw Robby coming. She unconsciously hugged the notebook to her chest. He opened her door, caught a whiff of almond, and immediately stepped back.
Oh, man. This pandemic was wreaking havoc on his emotions.
He was flooded with loneliness and longing.
He hadn’t counted on that. He turned his face away, took a deep breath of rain-cleansed air, and leaned back down, so the umbrella was covering the opening between Grace and the door.
In seconds his back was totally soaked. He didn’t notice.
Their eyes met. Another assault on his emotions.
Time slowed. It seemed like minutes before he could speak.
“Where do you want to talk? Under the awning, in my truck, or some place else?”
“The truck.” She started to get out. She was hugging the notebook.
She saw him look at it and handed it to him.
He put it under his arm. She got the umbrella Jim had left, but before she could open it, Robby shielded her with his.
In his truck, he was dripping wet but there was nothing to be done, and he wasn’t noticing anyway.
He looked over at Grace, but she was looking straight ahead.
He put his head back on the headrest, his eyes closed.
Neither of them noticed when Jim drove off.
Robby was silent for so long, Grace thought he might have gone to sleep.
She turned and looked out her window, listening to the rain.
“I’ve been looking at my life, at what I want and how to get there.”
His voice startled Grace. She jumped and looked at him. He was in the same position, only now his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. She turned back to the window.
“I’ve contacted a lot of music people in the last couple weeks about projects — solo projects, projects with other musicians, some with younger bands.
I’ve talked to management about what The Gulls should do.
We’ve talked among ourselves and with other bands about what they’re thinking.
I’ve written songs. What I learned from doing all this — and sleeping very little — is while it looks like I’m not going back on the road anytime soon, I still have work.
I need that. I want that. For now, it’s all based here, some out of the studio on the rez.
When we’re safe from Covid, I’ll probably travel some to work on projects .
. . maybe do a tour with the band if we can come up with enough material for a new album. ”