Chapter 35 Grey
GREY
I’m typically a man of few words, but Everly has been unusually quiet during the hike.
I’ve spent months on end on Isle Royale and love the peace, the quiet, and the solitude, but I have heard about island fever.
It isn’t an actual illness where someone gets a high temperature.
Rather, some people feel isolated from the rest of the world after spending a long period on an island.
Maybe she’s experiencing it now. Though her smile is as bright as ever when Sonny sings a song in Norwegian about, you guessed it, blueberries.
When we get back to the cabin, it’s nearly dinner time.
“You hungry?” I ask.
“Not especially.” She sits on the couch where she spent the bulk of the afternoon before the hike.
I want to do something to cheer her up.
“Even though I’m officially done with the Blancbourg program, there’s still the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball. Would you like to be my date?”
The corner of her lip lifts. “I’d love to. Sorry, I just had something on my mind.”
If it’s the complicated equation of what comes next for us, I get why she’s preoccupied.
We’ve been playing house, but now we have to return to real life and I don’t know what that will look like.
We’re like two people awkwardly shuffling in a hallway so we don’t collide, and we keep dancing around discussing plans for the future.
I crouch down. “Listen, I know we haven’t talked about what happens after we leave our little island bubble, but we’ll figure something out. Declan has a private jet that I haven’t cashed my credits in on yet.”
Her eyebrows lift.
“He’s offered me the opportunity to use it numerous times, veiled as generosity if I didn’t say anything about some of his misdeeds.” I wink. “If you’re thinking you’d like to continue to work at Blancbourg, we can fly to each other every chance we get.”
“What about Sonny?”
I rock back on my heels because I haven’t quite figured this part out yet. “Elsie can’t take care of him again. Maybe my mom—”
Everly’s expression remains blank as though she’s purposefully trying not to show emotion. I know the look all too well since I’m the master of concealment. Turns out, sometimes even from myself.
“We can make it work and the truth is...” I’ve been thinking heavily about my career as the end of the month nears and my time in the Blancbourg program ended, but I’m not ready to bring those words to life. “The truth is, I’m not sure I want to be known as the old grandpa football pro.”
That earns me an upturn of Everly’s sweet lips.
“Forty is not old.”
“Tell that to the rest of the team.”
She cocks her head. “I’d be happy to.”
I don’t think she’s joking.
“You don’t think I’m too old for you? We have a nearly ten-year age difference.”
“Nope. I think it’s just right. Minus #BruiserButt, I prefer a mature man. Someone ready to settle down. Have a family. Who knows who he is? But I have to ask, where is this coming from?”
“I don’t know who I’ll be without football.”
“Greyson Adams, husband, father, Hall of Famer. Gardner, chef, hot Viking love lord.”
I burst into laughter.
“I spent some time LARPing in college.”
“I sure like getting to know you and I like the sound of that.” I link my fingers with hers. “What about you?”
“Wife, mother, still figuring the rest out.” There’s an edge to her tone that drops off into emptiness.
“I don’t want you to feel like you missed out on things if we—you know.” I scrub my hand through my hair. Why is this so hard?
“Nope. I won’t be missing out on anything if we live the rest of our lives together. You and Sonny are everything I ever wanted.”
“Do you miss the mainland?”
She lifts her shoulder. “I miss cookie dough.”
I chuckle. “How about we close up here tomorrow and then fly to Los Angeles a few days ahead of the charity event? We could go to the beach and see the sights.”
She eyes her phone in the kitchen.
I take her hand. “Help me make our last home-cooked meal for a while. I want you to show me what you’ve learned while at Camp Adams.”
The weeks on the island have been something like summer camp filled with hiking, swimming, learning, and falling in love.
I’ve never felt the way I do about Everly with anyone else.
She’s like the sun that rises in the morning and the moonlight that shines at night.
I deserve a team tackle for that one and I’d take it like a man.
Officially, the thirty days of reform school are over. I succeeded in passing the Blancbourg program, yet we’re still here, still together.
Everly dons an apron and her phone buzzes again.
Ignoring it, she says, “What’s on the menu tonight?
Celebration cupcakes? Ice cream? Ooh, how about cookie dough sundaes?
Or if we were in Concordia, we’d get one of their famous chocolate cakes.
” She says the words clearly enough, but her usual enthusiasm is dull.
“Nah, the one you made for my birthday was better.”
“How do you know? Concordia is literally famous for the chocolate cake.”
“Because you made it.”
I anticipate Everly’s sunny smile, but it’s dim, a partly cloudy day instead of the warm rays of light blast I’ve grown used to.
While I’m worried about what comes next, perhaps she’s concerned about me handling the grief that still appears from time to time.
But I can no longer avoid it, for her sake, Sonny’s, and our future.
I’ve been writing my brother letters like I used to do when he first joined the military.
I’m getting it all out on the page, even if he’ll never read them.
I stifle a sigh. “I want to grill this fish.” I set it on the counter. “How about I leave you in charge of the salad? Use up everything in the fridge since we won’t be back for a little while. We’ll call it everything but the kitchen sink salad.”
In the pause, I wait for her to giggle at my dumb joke. It doesn’t come as her phone buzzes and the name Todd blinks onto the screen.
The anger that I keep locked inside rattles the bars of its cage and causes my jaw to twitch. “Is he harassing you again?”
She shakes her head.
“Remember the Marriage Club rules?”
The phone’s buzz repeats. I want to snap the thing in half. Instead, I ask, “Have you thought about blocking his number?”
Everly says a panicked, “Yes, no.” She grabs her phone.
“Yes? No? What do you mean? That guy is dangerous. I don’t want him bothering you. I don’t want him anywhere near you. Not in real life or over the phone.”
“It’s not that.” Desperation underscores each word.
My brow furrows. The kitchen turns a deep shade of red as my anger grows. “Everly, please tell me what is going on.” It’s a command rather than a request.
She flinches.
“What do we have if we can’t be honest with each other?” I ask.
She shakes her head rapidly as though fighting with herself over telling me.
A pit grows in my stomach. “Is he asking for you back?”
The turning of her head from side to side slows.
“Is he hassling you? Threatening you?”
Again, tight-lipped, she shakes her head.
I now understand her frustration at my grunt responses. “Then what is it?”
“I can’t tell you yet.” At that, she hurries up the stairs.
I toss the dishtowel onto the counter and scrub my hands down my face. “What the heck just happened?” I mutter, but also hope for an answer.
Sonny toddles into the room, dragging his big yellow “Dumper” as he calls his dump truck, which we’ve been using to haul our garden bounty. I pause dinner and give him my full attention while we pretend that we’re cars and the pillow fort is our garage.
When he gets distracted by building a smaller one with blocks for his toy cars, I return to making dinner. Or rather, I pace around the kitchen for a solid ten minutes, preoccupied with the conversation with Everly.
When she comes down to eat, she’s her usual chipper self, but I can’t stop the flurry of questions that burst into my mind like the soapy bubbles she and Sonny blow on the back deck when we’re done cleaning up.
She has a childlike playfulness that made the two of them bond instantly. I have to admit, I don’t mind it either. She helped me lighten up and live again. Everly is a breath of sweet sunshine and fresh air. Yet, I can’t help but sense a wedge growing between us.
Maybe she is having second thoughts about us as a couple. Perhaps she wants to get back with Todd for reasons I’ll never understand. A lightbulb pops in my mind. It could be that her father is pressuring her.
Perhaps she doesn’t like me anymore and it’s not going to work out. She’ll return to Concordia. I’ll rage-play football, and we’ll both pretend it never happened. After all, it seems too good to be true.
Or this could all be in my head and she’s just having a moment. She’s been through a lot, too.
Temptation draws me toward Everly’s phone.
I could peek at what she and Todd have been texting about.
Maybe we’re going in reverse. We’ve done everything backward, anyway.
Marriage first. Relationship second. It would make a twisted kind of sense for us to break up next.
Not that I want to lose the love of my life.
The thing is, it was easier not to feel. This would be a good time to talk to my brother. He’d splash me with cold water and tell me not to drift back into the clouds. To be here for Everly and Sonny.
The next day, we close up the cabin and take the seaplane to my mother’s house. She’s excited to have the little guy for a long weekend and he’s eager to go to Mrs. Nelson’s house to pick blueberries.
Everly remains relatively quiet on the flight to Los Angeles. When we land, realization knocks into me like turbulence even though we’re back on the ground.
Maybe she got bad news? Received the results of a test, indicating the cancer is back? I have incredible insurance and, with my connections in football, will get her the best doctors.
“Listen, whatever is going on, I am here for you. Please talk to me.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s going to be fine.” But her smile wilts a little.
“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
“Seriously. Everything is okay. What should I wear to the ball?”
The plainness of her question and the perkiness in her tone calm my concern...at least temporarily.
“It’s a ball, so we’ll have to get you a gown.”
“Like a princess?” she asks.
A question pricks my awareness. Perhaps this is about my ex. “No, Everly. A gown for a queen.” I take her hand, but she hesitates.
She glances at her chest. “I forgot my scarf at the cabin.”
I run my hands up her arms to her neck and then caress her jaw.
“Everly, you are beautiful, how you are. Every part of you. From top to bottom. Inside and out. When I look at you, I see a woman that I’m proud to have married.
And if you ever hear Todd’s voice in your ear saying something disparaging, even louder is the sound of my growl telling him to back off. You. Are. Mine.”
Everly’s grin grows, but when I gaze into her eyes, there’s liquid there.
“Thank you. Today, Grey, you occupy all three of my thankfuls.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to stay at the top of that list.”
Taking her hand, we head toward the shops.
I plan to pamper Everly with a beach and spa day tomorrow and then the First Annual Boston Bruisers Charity Ball, where we’ll make our debut as a couple—while young and dumb with Princess, I avoided hanging out with the team and her.
Partly because she’d flirt with them and because I’d often cringe at the ditzy things she’d say, embarrassing us both.
Princess is the original “Head empty” meme.
Why I thought we had a future together was beyond me.
But I’m pumped to see the guys with Everly on my arm. It’ll be a happy reunion to be together again now that we’ve come through reform school.
However, my teammates will crush me when they find out that I’m dress shopping with Everly.
Sure, Princess had me wrapped around her finger, but I drew the line at shopping and simply gave her my credit card.
Then again, I was younger, dumber. But having graduated to the shopping together stage with Everly feels right.
Sitting in the chair reserved for bored husbands, I imagine other stages: shopping at home goods stores, buying a car together, more kids?
Just then, she pops her head out of the dressing room. “I think I found the one.” Her sunny gaze lingers on mine for a long breath.
“Yeah?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Her smile is flirty.
“Can I see?”
“Nope. It’s a surprise.” She winks and disappears, taking my trepidation that something is wrong between us with her.