Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
C ora sat awake in the piano room as the rest of the house slept. She sketched in her notebook, feeling too anxious to fall asleep but also too tipsy to do any real work with her fabrics. The Bachelorette had been a success. Muriel had a blast and so did everyone else. But Brandon hadn’t responded to her since last night. When she had called the inn, the woman who answered told her he had checked out.
Just as she was about to call it a night, she heard footsteps outside. Her heart started pounding until she heard a familiar voice call out, “Ouch!”
She walked straight to the door and swung it open to see Julian crouching at the edge of the front porch. His eyes opened as wide as his mouth as she stood there.
“Julian?” She could smell the alcohol the second she opened the door. “What’s going on? Where’s the rest of the party?”
He tried standing up but swayed on the first step of the porch. He held out a box to her. “Here. This is for you.”
She shut the door behind her, but the night was cold, too cold for him to be wandering around outside. “Come inside, and let’s have some coffee.”
At that moment, she wished she had Brandon there. He’d know what to do.
“I wanted to give this to you,” he said, falling backward but catching himself with the railing.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” She went down the porch steps to him, trying to gently push him toward the house.
Instead, he shoved the box into her hands. “This is yours.”
“What is it?” she asked, shivering. The box felt heavy, like a book.
“He’s in love with you,” Julian said, leaning into her.
“What?” Cora didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Brandon,” Julian spoke clearly now. “He’s in love with you.”
She didn’t move, not sure what to say. “Let’s go inside.”
“He can’t play basketball, but he’s a great guy. Probably one of the kindest I’ve ever met,” Julian said, still swaying. He said something else, but Cora couldn’t make out the words.
“How much did you have tonight?” she asked, taking him up the stairs.
Julian started laughing at himself, and he stumbled again, rambling on about Brandon.
“Come on, let’s go.” She pulled him by the shirt up the rest of the steps. “Inside.”
When she got him inside, she dragged him into the piano room and walked to the kitchen to make coffee.
“Let’s get you sobered up.” She didn’t know if coffee was the right thing to give him at this point, but it at least got him to come inside.
He slumped into the chair next to the wood stove, her favorite spot in the whole house, as she made the coffee.
“Do you want anything with it?”
He didn’t answer, just stared at the fire, leaning forward to look at the flames.
She walked out with a black cup of coffee and handed it to him. He took it and looked at her.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He spoke so softly and clearly that she wouldn’t have known he was drunk.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I was up anyway.”
“No.” He shook his head. “For how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry.”
She didn’t want him to continue to worry about any of it. She had moved on and so should he. “It’s okay. Everything worked out in the end.”
“He won’t tell you,” Julian said, leaning back in the chair, “but he’s crazy for you.” He pointed to the box he’d brought, which she had set on the table absentmindedly. “It’s all in there.”
“What’s in there?” she asked, looking at the box.
“His story,” Julian said, closing his eyes while holding the mug.
“His story?” This caught her attention. She went to the box right away. “Brandon finished it?”
She lifted the box’s cover and saw his name on the front page. She immediately smiled.
“It’s about you,” Julian said. “Well, kind of. You have to read it.”
“Does he know I have it?” She knew Brandon was private with his work.
Julian didn’t answer but kept his eyes closed. She wondered if he was just ignoring the question, but she soon realized he had fallen asleep. She slowly walked over to him and took the mug from his hands and set it on the side table. She grabbed a blanket and covered him up.
She wanted to ask why he’d had a drink. Hadn’t he been trying to stay sober? Had it been too hard to avoid drinking at the bachelor party? Was he going to continue to drink? Why hadn’t he asked for help?
She sat in the chair opposite Julian in the piano room, watching him as he slept. She decided to text Oliver to let him know where he was and sent a picture of him asleep in the chair. After she dumped Julian’s coffee out, she went to the box and opened it up. Inside sat a manuscript. The title page read Pieces of Him by Brandon Rossi.
She pulled out the thick manuscript and went back into the piano room, where she sat on the other side of the wood stove and began reading.
In Brandon’s first chapter, the character gets dressed for his father’s funeral and ends up waking up alone, outside, not knowing where he is. She read most of the night, even seeing the night sky lighten up as dawn approached. But she must’ve fallen asleep because when she awoke to her mother’s voice, she looked over for Julian, who was gone.
“Is Julian still here?” she asked.
Meredith shook her head. “Julian was here?”
Cora rubbed her eyes, still holding Brandon’s manuscript. “What time is it?”
“It’s just after six,” Meredith said, walking into the kitchen. “Rough night at the bachelorette?”
Cora put the manuscript down and looked out the window. The frost on the ground showed footprints down the driveway.
Cora turned to her mother. “I think I’m going to make sure Julian made it home okay.”
She grabbed her coat and purse but stopped when she noticed the text message on her phone.
Thank you for your constant support. I will forever be grateful.
Good luck with everything, Cora.
Julian
She ran down the street to catch him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She sent back a text.
We’re family , she sent with a heart emoji. I’ll always be here for you.
I’m going to be okay. He wrote. But a sick feeling filled her stomach. Would he be, okay?
She went straight to Muriel’s bedroom. “Hey.”
“Hey, what’s up?” Muriel said, rubbing her eyes awake.
“It’s Julian,” she said, and that’s when she told the whole story to Muriel. By the end of it, Muriel held Cora’s hand.
“Let me talk to Oliver,” she said, dialing his number while holding onto Cora. “I’m sure he’s going to be okay.”
She pressed Oliver’s number and put it on speaker.
“Julian’s okay,” Oliver said right away. “He’s here with me. He’s called the rehabilitation center up in Vermont.” Oliver sounded concerned but also supportive. “I’m going to drive him there this morning.”
“Are you sure he’s okay?” Cora asked.
“He’s going to be okay,” Oliver said. Don’t worry; he’s strong.”
But she wasn’t so sure, because she thought he was strong last night. She didn’t ask or push after the first go-round. “I should’ve known he was drinking last night.”
“This is nobody’s fault,” Oliver said through the phone. “We’re going to leave soon. I’ll let you know when we get there.”
“Thanks, Oliver,” she said, wishing she had just confessed the whole thing at the beginning.
For the rest of the morning, she read Brandon’s manuscript. When she heard Julian checked in, she continued to read for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening and fell asleep with Brandon’s book in her bed.
The next day, she sat in the piano room and finished Brandon’s novel. She had cried, laughed, and believed in the power of overcoming even the darkest times. The book had been powerful, to say the least. She wanted to call Brandon right then and there, but something stopped her from making the call.
What was it?
Did she even deserve someone as great as Brandon?
“Hey, sugar,” her grandfather said, walking into the kitchen. “You want some of my oatmeal?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks.”
“It’s got blueberries,” he teased.
She opened her mouth, then shut it.
“What is it?” he asked, sitting down at the table. He put his spoon in his oatmeal.
“When did you know grandma was the one?”
Cora had always loved the chase and the excitement of falling for someone, the ups and downs, but now that seemed scary and dangerous. Now, she wanted a strong and steady relationship, someone she could always be assured would be there for her and in her corner.
“When your grandmother showed up at my office in Boston,” Gordon said. “She came to see me and to just say hello. I couldn’t stop thinking about her from that moment on.”
Cora wondered if it was still hard for him to talk about her grandmother. The two had been happily married for forty-plus years.
“If you want my advice?” Gordon asked. “Don’t wait. Go for it. You might not get another shot.”
Cora picked up a piece of fabric and rubbed it between her fingers. The beautiful linen would make a gorgeous apron for Giovanni’s.
“I think you’re right, Grandpa,” Cora said. She could go after what she wanted or keep wishing and dreaming for things to be different. “I think I’m going to stop and say hello to someone.”