Page 68 of The Bloodfeather Promise
Chapter Twenty
“She was, of course, only too good for him. But, as nobody minds having what is too good for them, he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing.”
~Mansfield Park, Jane Austen
Emerson
The next few weeks are somehow survived. I don’t know how, but I pull myself together. I work. I eat, although admittedly very little. I sleep. Sometimes. I cry. A lot. And I try very hard to forget Greyson.
It is one task I fail at miserably.
Devon and Noah are a great comfort to me. I use both their shoulders numerous times, and never do they say “I told you so.” Luann and Lloyd cluck sympathetically upon hearing the news of the break-up, but thankfully do not pry into the reasons behind it. And my mother, aware I was seeing Greyson, comes down and spends a weekend with me. Her intention is to cheer me up, and while I am grateful for her company, I breathe a sigh of relief when she goes home. I want to be miserable in private.
Jett, Brant, and Dylan make occasional forays to the center of town. They generally wreak havoc with their appearances, but eventually, the fuss dies down. They come into the bookstore, to buy books and visit with me. I think they want to give me updates on Greyson, but their first time in the shop, I let them know right away I will not speak of him.
Dylan ignores my demand only once. He is determined, insisting I listen, at least this one time. It’s a month after the break-up.
“He’s devastated, Emerson.” He catches me one evening after I’ve closed the shop. Pulling me to the bench under the windows, he sits down beside me. “He tries hiding it, but we all know the truth.”
“I cannot…” My voice, I’m sure, quivers because that’s what my heart is doing. I’ve been hoping Greyson would not fall into his old habits. The drugs. The alcohol. I know Jett uses cocaine, and I wonder if he is a good enough friend to keep that use away from Greyson.
“He drank himself into a stupor that first night, and on the anniversary of Alex’s death, but otherwise, he’s concentrated on getting this album done. The songs, these lyrics, they are amazing. That is all because of you, darling. Greyson told me nearly every song was created with you as his muse.”
I can’t help myself. I must know. “The drugs?”
“None. I wanted you to know, Emerson. How he was doing. You have a right to know. And we want to thank you for whatever you said to him when you left. The day of Alex and Jessica’s death was a catalyst for us both, and I won’t lie. It was hard.” He goes on to explain their reconciliation, and I’m sure he leaves some of the details out, wanting to spare me. “It was good to talk about it. Good for both of us. We’ve forgiven each other for the mistakes that were made. With Jessica. And with Alex. I feel like I have my best friend back at last.”
Tears well up in my eyes.
“We’re leaving soon, in a couple of days. Now that we have the songs worked out, we’ll meet up in Atlanta to finish up the details. So, I’ve come to say goodbye. Jett and Brant are popping by tomorrow to do the same thing.” Dylan cannot hide the sadness in his words.
“I’m glad the album is finished. I’m sure you are all relieved.” My voice sounds like you would expect, coming from someone who has cried every day for the past month.
“It’s Seven Seconds’ best work ever. That’s the damn truth, too. Thank you again, Emerson. For everything.”
I pretend the hug Dylan gives me is from Greyson. I pretend it’s his arms wrapped around me, and my heart breaks even more. It’s the end of summer and the man I love will leave soon. He’ll place Lullaby Tides up for sale, and my beautiful, complicated Greyson will be gone forever.
“Don’t give up on him,” Dylan whispers in my ear after one last embrace, but I only nod in my misery.
When Jett says his goodbyes, the drummer is his normal upbeat self, but he does get emotional when he hugs me.
Brant, on the other hand, looks at me with new respect and his usual stoicism.
“I hope we see you again, Emerson,” he murmurs as he embraces me. “But, if we don’t, you should know, you were the one who gave us back our friend.”
* * *
It’s beena week since Seven Seconds left Sea Cove.
It’s been a lifetime since I walked away from Greyson Finch after he asked me to stay.
It’s been an eternity since I knew joy.
With the slowdown of the season and four employees, I have more time on my hands. The days are still blazing hot, and this is the second time this week I’ve been talked into going to the beach with Devon and Noah. We lie in the sand, swim in the gulf, and talk about everything except Greyson.
We don’t use the beach behind his house anymore. Instead, we visit an access almost a mile away from Lullaby Tides. It’s an unspoken agreement between the three of us.
I come home late in the afternoon, sweaty, sunburned, and dreading the loneliness of The Sandpiper’s Nest. I plan on driving down to AlleyGators and grabbing dinner to go, so I leave the golf cart parked on the gravel side of the street. The sun is already going down behind my little beach cottage, which means the available light in the yard is edging into twilight dimness as I push open the gate.
