Page 49 of Falling for Grace

“Friday. We’ll talk about it more this evening. I’m just walking to their place now. It’s weird,” I admit, looking at an old art deco office building that used to house a big brand. It’s derelict and boarded up.

“I always knew I would be back here at some point, but I always thought it would be for Danny.”

“It is,” Theresa says. “Fate. It has a weird way of bringing people together no matter how far apart they may have got over the years.”

“Blimey Theresa,” I say, my lips tipping up in a smile. “I think that's the most insightful thing I have ever heard you say.”

“Hah!” I let myself smile fully at how easy it is talking to her and how easy it is to push the sad thoughts aside for a moment. “I’ll have you know I can be very insightful at times,” she says proudly. “So how hot was Brandon? Did your ovaries fall out your vagina?”

“Oh, Jesus. There she is the crude friend I know and love.” I frown as a Range Rover approaches, flashing its headlights at me. It pulls into an access road.

Brandon.

“Fuck, he’s here,” I whisper, not that he can hear me. “He wouldn’t even let me walk to his house.”

“Oh God. Oh, no. A Hollywood heartthrob has just dared to pick me up.”

I wave to let him know that I‘ve seen him but don’t rush over.

“I feel guilty whenever I laugh,” I admit. “Like I shouldn’t laugh, like laughing means I don’t care, smiling means I’m not grieving.”

I didn’t smile much last time I felt grief like this, I felt utterly empty. Like I would never smile again.

“This week is going to be filled with all sorts of emotions, Grace. My last insightful thing is to just tell you to roll with it. Let yourself feel what you’re feeling. You’ll want to laugh, cry, kick and scream. Don’t feel guilty for any of those things. And please, Grace, try not suppress them. All that will happen is for it to bubble out in a massive explosion of snot and shit. Well, not actual shit.” She pauses. “I mean, I guess it could be actual shit. That would be unfortunate but–”

“Theresa, thank you, for being there and for making me smile.”

“Anytime, and I mean that, Grace, please call me anytime you need to. I hate that you're there on your own.”

“I’m not on my own. I’m with them all. I’ll barely be on my own all week.”

“Well. Even more important to try and take some time for yourself, to let yourself feel. I know you well enough to know that you will try and be strong for them all.”

“I will. I promise. I better go.”

“Just as well, this chat got all serious, and I’m really worried my work colleagues think I’ve got the shits or something.” I laugh and, in my heart, thank Theresa for being just as bat shit crazy as she usually is, and that’s perfect for me.

I pop the phone back in my bag and walk towards the Range Rover. I pull open the passenger door and as I climb in, the heat from the car and the smell of Brandon’s aftershave overwhelm my senses. He’s freshly showered.

“This takes me back. Although you were usually hanging onto Danny and cackling like a pair of hyenas.”

We would be tottering back from the pub, and Brandon would either be with us or picking us up, taking pity on us, as one was usually having to carry the other home.

“And I’ll say now the same thing I used to tell you back then—you didn’t need to pick me up, it’s only up the road.”

“And I will say the same thing to you—I pick you up because I want to. Nothing has changed there.” He winks at me.

Fucking winks.

I hate it when he winks at me.

Because.

My.

Ovaries.

Swoon.

---