Chapter 34 Everly
EVERLY
In the following days, life feels easier and lighter, but the swift countdown until our thirty days are up is like a ticking clock. Three, two, one.
Fitting then that Grey added how to say and spell numbers in Norwegian to my daily word puzzles.
We play with Sonny and he teaches us to look at the world with wonder and patience. Grey cooks and gardens. I draw and read. We all hike and swim in the lake.
One rainy afternoon, after I put Sonny down for his nap, I find Grey on his laptop in the great room, studying football stats.
He comments that Coach Hammer congratulated him on passing the Blancbourg program—it’s officially over, and being secluded up here, resulted in little fanfare.
“And now he wants me to get back to work and by that, he means prep for the season.”
I perch on the arm of the sofa and rub his shoulders. “I’m still wildly impressed by your bookshelves. They’re well organized and worthy of a #BookShelfie post on social media. I’d take one of those over #BruiserButt any day.”
“Not a fan of my butt?” he jokes.
“On the contrary, I’m rather fond of this Bruiser’s butt. But it’s mine and I don’t want to share.” I give him a little squeeze.
He chuckles and pulls me onto his lap. I’ve never been married, so I’m not entirely sure if this is normal—but our relationship didn’t start like it would for a typical couple—and we make out for the next ten minutes.
When we part, my lips are bee-stung, but I cannot resist a smile. “So, you’re an amazing kisser, a skilled gardener, a cook, and have a big collection of books.” It’s impossible to ignore Grey’s lidded eyes as he trails me with his gaze while I study the contents of his shelves.
“What can I say? I like to admire the view.”
Flattered, I laugh inwardly because there’s no doubt he’s talking about me.
I can’t imagine he brought too many women up here who’d appreciate the fine attention to the book display and bespoke items decorating the shelves.
“Fiction, biographies about football players, cookbooks, and gardening guides.” There is an entire shelf dedicated to each subject.
“You like things that grow,” I say absently.
“I like to eat,” he says simply. “Eventually, I’d like to have a small farm and raise our own animals.”
Sounds like an adventure in the making. But in some ways, he seems stuck with one foot in the past. We haven’t talked much about it, but just as pain from my previous life occasionally sneaks through like it did when I told him about my hair, I’m afraid it’s keeping us both from looking at the future.
The near future at that, because I’m supposed to report to Blancbourg in a matter of days.
But I won’t make today any cloudier than it is with a drab topic of conversation. “I love reading too. The classics, romance, and even books about art—history, technique, and artists. The perfect thing to do on a rainy day.”
“Books are where I go to escape when I’m not on the field,” Grey says.
I pause my perusal. “Did your brother love football as much as you?”
Grey shakes his head. “Not especially. He was more of a baseball guy.”
“What else?” I ask, sliding onto the sofa beside him.
“He always knew what to say or do. You know how some people claim that there isn’t a manual for how to be a parent or live life or whatever?
It was like Bran was born with one. He knew how to handle any situation.
Stranded on an island during a lightning storm?
Bran to the rescue. Get a flat tire with no spare, thirty miles from home?
He’d be there. He was so together. So good. Always helping people.”
“So are you.”
Grey stares at his hands. “But—”
“But...if you’re thinking about how things didn’t work out with Sonny’s mother, people make mistakes. Not that your son was a mistake, but in terms of not being there for him.”
“It’s only been a short time, but I cannot imagine a life without you and Sonny. For so long, I didn’t think I was up for the task. She’s the one missing out. And to be honest, it makes me mad.”
“It hasn’t escaped my attention that Sonny instantly called me Mamma. It felt kind of strange at first, like I was peeping in someone’s diary. But it also feels right. What or how do you want to tell Sonny about her? Or have you already?”
“According to reports, she hardly took care of Sonny, leaving him with babysitters, friends, and her mother. He bounced around from person to person. It should’ve been me.”
“You’re here now.”
“I haven’t talked to him about Princess yet.”
I press my lips together, fighting a smile, fighting laughter. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping it’ll pass. But it’s no use, it pours out of me.
“What’s so funny?”
“Just that you call your ex princess. No offense to the biological mother of your son, but she’s more like a wicked witch.”
“No, that’s her name.”
I whack him with my fingers. “Her name is not Princess.”
“Honest truth.”
My laughter continues because he’s not joking after all.
Grey’s lip quivers like it’s contagious, and I give him a little nudge. “Come on. It’s okay to laugh a little. Let it out, big guy.”
He does, a long bellow of a laugh. It shines in his eyes.
“See? That was good, right?”
He bobbles his head in affirmation, which is much better than a grunt.
“I’m sorry, I can’t believe your ex’s name is Princess. I still think it’s hilarious. That should’ve been a red flag. I cannot picture you with a lady named Princess.” I try putting their names together in my head. Nope, Grey and Princess don’t fit.
“Yeah, in hindsight, her name was fitting in that spoiled, bratty, entitled kind of way.”
“But you got Sonny out of the deal, so I’d say you came out the king.” At the mention of that term, I think of my father and my laughter dies.
“He’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And you,” Grey adds.
The warmth within returns and brings with it a question. “Branson is your brother and you’re Greyson. Did you name him Sonny as per tradition?”
“Princess wanted to name him Aero Moon Hero, so that was the compromise.”
“Where did you find this woman?”
“Late night. Waffle House. She was Norwegian. I thought it was meant to be. We’ll never speak of it again.”
“It’s probably for the best.” Another squawk of laughter escapes.
“But about her, Sonny is barely three years old and I want to wait until our lives settle before I gauge how to approach the subject about Princess and you. Without my prompting or any discussion on the matter, he started calling you Mamma, so I went with it. But we can talk about how to handle it at some point.”
“Speaking of things we ought to talk about...”
My phone beeps. My spine tingles, but I do my best to ignore it.
“Someone missing you?”
I snort. “Not likely. I should visit Heidi before I leave, though.”
“Before you leave,” Grey echoes, reminding me of when we first met and he was all clouds, rain showers, and ghosts. “How about you stay? I don’t want anyone else in my life leaving.”
This is the cue to ask Grey about the football season, but I’m not as brave as I was at Mrs. Nelson’s house. Instead, I say, “Tell me more about Bran.”
His voice cracks a few times, but for the next hour, Grey tells me stories of growing up with Bran, when he enlisted in the military, and how he was a hero. Their brotherhood, the pranks the boys would pull. Grey’s family, which I want to be part of, roots me back to life in the Upper Peninsula.
He grips the back of his neck. “After losing Bran, I devoted one hundred percent of my energy to football. It was the only way I could deal.”
“And now?”
His mouth opens and closes. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought about what’s next.”
And without meaning to, at last, we arrive at the destination we’ve both been avoiding. “...Aside from puttering around in your garden and cooking.”
He shifts as though the conversation about the past and future makes him uncomfortable.
Doubt smudges the perfect landscape of our future that I’d drawn in my mind. “I don’t want to think about it either. But the first two rules of Marriage Club stand.”
Grey’s phone rings and the word Hammer slides across the screen. “He sent me some footage to watch. I should get that.”
A cookbook with a shiny spine that caught my attention earlier brings me to my feet.
I decide to learn a new recipe each week.
I run my finger along the grilling cookbooks, Italian cuisine, camping cookbooks, and others with recipes that specialize in foods that go in bowls, wraps, and juices.
I settle on breakfast and bookmark a recipe.
Then, since it’s a rainy afternoon, I search for a good mystery.
I reach the end of the lowest shelf, where a slim leather book is wedged next to a bicycle repair manual.
I pull it out and part the pages to discover it’s a photo album. I’m nosy, but I know that I shouldn’t pry. However, a familiar face stares back at me from a picture of a beardless Grey and a woman who must’ve spent a lot of time in the sun and even more at a hairstylist getting her hair bleached.
I hardly believe my eyes, but as I flip through, I recognize the woman on Grey’s arm, the one holding a newborn, the one from my wedding day.
She’s a princess all right.
My stomach knots. I don’t know what to do with this information because it’s no longer funny. It’s galaxies-colliding crazy.
Grey’s voice rumbles in the other room. A whisper in my head says to go directly to him and tell him what I discovered, but I remain glued to the spot as I study the vaguely familiar face.
However, it’s more the woman’s voice that echoes in my head like a bad dream.
Behind Grey and Princess stands someone else, someone I didn’t recognize until now.
He looks a lot like Grey and I’ve seen him before as well. Not long ago, in fact.
An icy cold feeling pours through me. It’s like I plunged into the lake and a heavy pressure pushes against my chest. I’ve made a lot of bad decisions in my life and bringing this to the surface will likely turn into one of them. I’m too close to the situation not to get burned.
However, I grab my cell phone and send a text because I’m done being threatened. The tables have turned.
Just as I press send on the text, Grey’s heavy footfalls approach. I shove the photo album under the couch cushion.
“I forgot to tell you, I didn’t get around to fixing the kayak oar.”
I nod as if through a fog.
He continues, “The one that accidentally got stuck between two rocks the last time we were out.”
I’m frozen, locked in what I just learned.
Grey claps his hands together. “When Sonny wakes up, I was thinking of going for a row, but maybe a hike instead since the rain let up, and I think there are a few wild blueberries left on the bushes over by the cove. He’d like that.”
When I don’t answer, Grey adds, “Buttercup, you okay? You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Something like that,” I mumble. “But I’m fine. Going out on the lake sounds perfect.”
“I suggested a hike.”
“Oh, right.” I get up on shaky legs and leave my phone on the counter. I’m probably just overthinking this, but how can we move forward when it turns out there is so much in our past that we share?
Whereas before, it was just Grey, Sonny and me occupying the planet, now it feels like the whole world stands between us and the future. I’m not sure how to navigate this unforeseen turn in the road.