“You don’t worry about a thing,” Gretchen says. “Let me pack for you, and you just lie down until Cal gets here.”

My eyes are red, I can’t stop crying.

Grandma is gone.

I never returned my dad’s call last night. Turned my phone off and then the battery ran dry. There had been so much going on at the premiere... and I’ll never forgive myself for not being there for her.

Then when I got back to my apartment earlier this morning, I spent my time doing damage control with Gretchen and Collette. We were hashing out our futures—the two girls want to stay here in LA, and even before I learned about Grandma, I was done with this place.

It took hours for me to call Dad.

When I did, he was choking on his tears... he lost his wife, then his mother, and I’m not there to help him through this.

“You can come back after things calm down in Resting,” Collette says, handing me a mug of tea. “Even if it’s not forever. You still have more jobs lined up, and if you want—”

I cut her off. “I’m not coming back. This isn’t my home.”

Collette nods, wiping the tears from her eyes too. This month has been one thing after another, and we all have so much healing to do. “I know, sweetie.”

Gretchen comes in with my suitcase. “I packed your overalls, but I threw in a nice black dress and heels for you to wear for the service.” She grabs a tote bag and puts in my wallet, keys, and water bottle. Having friends who are here, taking care of me in the midst of this means more than they will ever know.

I start crying all over again. “I feel weird leaving you guys here after everything last night with Danny. You need a new agent and...”

“Shhh,” Gretchen says. “None of us need anything right now beside one another. We will figure out the rest later. Okay?”

Her words calm me, and Collette braids my hair while we wait for Cal. Gretchen is reading articles, and giving us updates on what the press is saying. It keeps me from continually sobbing if nothing else.

The most shocking is when a news source reveals the true identity of Cal.

“Holy fucking shit,” she says, reading the article aloud.

She stops reading, shocked by the information.

“Did you know?” she asks.

I nod. “I found out over the weekend. He had reasons to keep it a secret.”

“It’s all so sad,” Collette says, shaking her head at the revelation. “His parents... then his best friend.”

I can’t swallow my tears, they flow freely again, thinking about the losses I’ve experienced too. Mom, now Grandma. It’s all too much.

When Cal gets here, he wraps his arms around me and lets me cry against his chest.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he says, cradling me in a comforting hold. My friends watch, stunned at both our genuine care for one another and the fact that the man I am in love with is the son of one of the most famous couples Hollywood has ever known.

With my bags in hand, he leads me to a car in front of the apartment complex. He’s already arranged a pilot to meet us at his jet to fly us to the farm. The fact that Cal has taken control of the situation is a relief. That is what I need right now. I don’t have the energy to deal with anything besides my grief.

With a pang, I realize that is exactly what Cal experienced a month ago when he lost Sawyer. My roommates follow us out onto the sidewalk and say their goodbyes while wrapping me in heartfelt hugs.

“You’ve been an amazing friend to us,” Gretchen tells me. “I know the city and this job haven’t turned out the way any of us thought it would but I’m really glad we met.”

“Me too,” Colette says. “And you better come back. But if you don’t, that’s all right. Gretchen and I will come find you.”

I hug them again. “I love you,” I say, meaning it. How my heart could be so tightly connected to these two who, on the surface, are so unlike me is a miracle in and of itself.

When we met, I didn’t believe I had anything in common with them besides being built for a runway. But that is a testament to what friendship can be. Because what’s inside, at our core, is what matters. And Gretchen and Collette, they may have gotten caught up in the hype of this job—but at the end of the day, they are here holding me up when I need them most.

* * *

At Grandma’s service, I wear the black dress Gretchen packed for me, and Daddy holds my arm, Cal has me at the small of my back—neither of the men in my life is letting me go.

When the casket is lowered into the ground we’re all in tears. But later, when we are back at the farmhouse, and friends of Grandma’s come with casseroles and berry crisps, I feel the warmth I remember from when my mom passed.

The community gathering around us, reminding us that we aren’t alone in our grief.

Cal slips his hand through mine. “This is why this town is special, isn’t it?”

I nod, my eyes rimmed in red, and I lean against Cal’s chest. A few people have mentioned the headlines that cover the truth about his family, and the club he ran in LA, but no one mentions my role in anything, and no one says the name Fuck Club—at least not in our presence. Though I’d be a fool if I thought for a second that everyone here isn’t wondering about it.

Dad wondered about it too. We hadn’t been here a half hour before he started asking questions. Pointed ones at the man I brought home with me for the second time.

Daddy wanted to know Cal’s intentions, wanted to make it crystal clear that I wasn’t an object—I was a beloved daughter and friend and that no man ought to think of me any differently.

My face got red and blotchy and I tried to stop the conversation but Cal wasn’t letting himself off the hook.

“I understand your concerns, Johnny. You love your daughter, but so do I. I know the scandal that is in the news isn’t something you want Jules to be a part of—and neither do I. But I want you to know that I am getting out of the business I was running. I never intended it to become a place so dangerous.”

“And what kind of business do you want to get in, then, son?” he asks.

Cal smiled—which is saying something considering the interrogation taking place.

“I want to be an honest man who can provide for his family.”

My dad’s eyes narrowed. “Family?”

“Eventually, yeah.”

“From what I’ve heard, you have plenty of money,” Daddy pressed, not easing his stance.

“Money, sure, but I want stability. I want to offer my future wife the life she wants.”

At that, Dad seemed satisfied. He nodded curtly, and told Cal if there was anything else he’d like to discuss, he could always find him in the barn, for a heart to heart.

That was three days ago.

Now we’re in the kitchen of the farmhouse, Grandma’s knitting club and the ladies from Bridge are here, everyone telling me how much they loved her.

“So, what are your plans next?” a gray-haired woman asks, stirring sugar into her coffee. “We all saw the Sports Illustrated issue.” She raises her eyes and gives me a smile. “Striking poses, really.”

My cheeks are warm, and I catch Cal’s eye across the room, He is in a conversation with another woman who I recognize as being one of the ladies who volunteered with Grandma. She’s unabashedly wrapping her arm around Cal’s bicep.

“I want to stay here for a bit.”

“And then?” the woman presses.

I shake my head, not knowing. But knowing I will be alongside Cal no matter where I end up.

* * *

Later, Dad finds me in Grandma’s room where I am looking through her old photo albums.

“You doing okay, Jules?”

I shrug, frowning slightly. “Even though I knew it was going to happen eventually... it’s hard to believe she’s really gone.”

Dad sits next to me on the bed. “She left a letter for you. Well, her hands had been flaring up for a few days before the clot, and she couldn’t write anymore, her fingers were too tight, but she told me what to write.”

“A letter?” My eyes furrow. “Where?”

Dad pulls the letter from his pocket. “I’ll let you read it alone.”

I nod, taking the slim envelope from him.

“You know,” he starts, standing and headed to the doorway. “Cal came out to the barn to have a talk with me.”

My eyes raise. “Yeah?”

“He’s a good one. I know the papers are saying crazy things about that club he was running—and I don’t know anything about that stuff, you know me, I’m a simple guy. But there have only been a few things in my life that matter. The women in my life and this farm.”

I can see that Dad is struggling to keep himself composed. “And I guess what I’m trying to say is, it seems like Cal feels the same way as me.”

“He cares about this farm?”

“He went to the bank and paid off our mortgage. That tells me he cares an awful lot.”

“That’s too generous,” I say, shaking my head. “We can’t accept it.”

“I’d have said the same thing a year ago. Hell, six months ago even. But right now, with the farm paid off, that means my daughter isn’t going to be tied to this place anymore. You can be free to go live the life you want.”

I bite my bottom lip. Hating how it always circles back to this. “Can’t this be enough?”

In the doorway of Grandma’s room, Dad slaps his hand to the hardwood. “Read the letter, then tell me what you think.”

I open it, spreading the white stationary in my lap. Reading it, in my dad’s handwriting, I try to imagine my Grandma dictating the words for him. But as I read it, I mostly only cry.