“Can’t say all of Sunnyville didn’t show up in support of the calendar sales,” Betsy Malone says and shakes her head as we both stare at the same person. Her son.
“Let’s just hope Grady walks away without his ego so big he can’t fit through the front door.” He’s all smiles as he sits and patiently talks to the ladies who have waited in line to get their calendars signed.
They run the gamut when they get to Grady—from giggly to flirty, from shy to rambling—but I love that he’s patient with every one of them. Taking a picture if they ask. Talking to their kids if they’re with them. The perfect ambassador for the station.
And that isn’t saying all of the other guys aren’t doing the same, but my eyes are fixed on Grady and Grady alone.
They seem to be there a lot these days.
“I’m sure you’ll bring him down to earth if it is,” she says with a wink. “And if not, he has two brothers chomping at the bit to razz the hell out of him.”
I laugh and think of the shit they’ve given him since the calendars went on sale. Bumper stickers about hose sizes slapped on the back of his truck. A blow-up doll delivered that was some kind of retaliation for something he did to Grant. A box of blow-pop suckers delivered to the station. And the list goes on.
“I’m sure they will.”
“Emerson says you’re almost done with your songs.”
“I have two left to finish, but for the most part, yes.” It pains me to admit it.
“So you’ll be leaving us?” she asks and then shakes her head with a silly roll of her eyes. “Sorry. Of course you will. I was having motherly daydreams that you’ll fall in love with . . . Sunnyville and decide to stay.” And by Sunnyville, she really means Grady. “Like I said, silly.”
“He’s a good man, Betsy.” I chew the inside of my cheek and fight back the sting of tears as I stare at him. “We’re just in different places of our lives right now.”
“That’s a load of phooey. If you love him, then love him.”
I smile softly and am thankful my sunglasses hide the truth in my eyes. “Even if I did, Grady won’t allow it. He’s made it clear that dating is all he’ll ever allow, and I want more than that. Someday I want marriage, kids, the white picket fence.” I hate that my voice breaks on the last words.
“Look how far he’s come since you’ve arrived. He did the calendar. He’s more comfortable in his skin.”
“He is, and I’m so very glad I was a part of helping him get there . . . but there are some opinions I can’t sway.”
“If you stayed, who knows what could happen.”
My heart will be broken. That’s what will happen.
But I think of the calendar Grady is signing. The picture of him looking at me. The smile on his lips. The sincerity and warmth in his eyes. And I wonder what we might miss out on because he refuses to take a chance.
Because he refuses to face everything and rise.
In an attempt to dispel the conversation in which I know Betsy means well but is pressure applied to the wrong party, I fold my arms over my chest and lean against the wall and take it all in. The event. Grady accepting the enthusiasm of the photo he was so uncertain of in the first place. Even the pang of jealousy as I wonder which of these women will take my place when I’m gone.
“Dylan, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
I turn from where my gaze sits on Grady to find Shelby and Brody standing before me.
“You’re right, B-man. She is as pretty up close as she is from far away.” Shelby ruffles Brody’s hair and looks to me with a shy smile. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Dylan. I’ve heard a lot about you from Grady.”
I smile, suddenly nervous for some reason as if I’m meeting the other woman in Grady’s life. “So nice to finally meet you too.”
“Quite a turnout, isn’t it?” Shelby puts her hands on her hips and turns to look at the crowd.
“It is. Hey, Brody,” Betsy says. “I think you should be over there autographing the calendars with the guys, don’t you?” His eyes light up and cheeks flush red. “You are the first picture in the calendar . . . and you know that’s the most important one, right?”
Brody’s eyes widen as he looks from me to his mom and then back again. “It is?”
“Absolutely. How about I take you to Grady and let you sign next to him while your mommy and Miss Dylan chat for a bit?”
We watch as Betsy walks an animated Brody across the parking lot to where the tables are set up beneath E-Z Ups. There’s an awkward silence between us, because I’m really not sure what to say but feel like I need to say everything. I’m sorry about the loss of your husband really doesn’t feel like enough, though.
“Grady is a very special man,” Shelby says eventually. She doesn’t look my way, and her voice is soft, but there is so much emotion packed into those six words that I can feel them.
“He is.”
“He needed someone like you, you know. It’s like you’ve brought him back to life.”
I hold back the hiccup of a sob that threatens. First his mom’s words and now Shelby’s, which are both hard to hear since the one person I want to hear them from hasn’t said them. Won’t say them. I clear my throat and begin to speak when she reaches over and grabs my hand and clutches it tightly in hers.
If anyone else did that to me, I’d yank it away, but with Shelby, I can sense she needs this connection somehow. Her hand trembles and grip tightens as she sniffs back her own tears.
“Those first months after Drew died, I couldn’t bring myself to visit Grady. I was so angry with him for not being able to save Drew, but at the same time I understood that I married a man who loved the beast as much as he loved me. Unfortunately, the beast won.” She pauses to collect herself and then begins again. “I had questions. Was Drew in pain? Did he know it was happening, or did he pass out from smoke inhalation unaware? Those two things haunted me. And then when I finally had the courage to see Grady in the hospital, I saw the suffering he was enduring as they scrubbed the dead skin from his burns. He tried not to scream, but let tears silently fall because he believed he deserved the punishment. My heart broke all over again. He lived, but it didn’t make his pain any less.”
“I’m so sorry, Shelby.” I sniffle and squeeze her hand as she lifts her free hand to wipe her tears beneath her sunglasses.
“It’s been a little over two years since he died. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about him. It’s impossible not to when I see him in everything Brody does. And I know it’s the same for Grady. And I love that about him. His loyalty to his friend. To his unfounded guilt. To keeping the promise he made to my husband that he’d make sure Brody knew everything about his father . . . but that means Grady stopped living too. Sure, he’s gone through the motions, but I haven’t really seen him light up with happiness . . . until you came along.”
She breaks from her commentary when Brody and Grady look our way and wave.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I ask gently.
“Because Grady will never admit to you that you’ve made a difference. He won’t allow himself to acknowledge what he feels for you, but we all can see it clearly in that photo.” I turn my head to look at her and she chuckles. “Marcy told me about the shoot. About the only time Grady actually relaxed and showed his true colors was then. When he was looking at you.”
“I have my life to get back to,” I murmur in explanation despite my feet feeling perfectly fine where they’re planted.
“Uh-huh.” She shifts her feet and releases my hand. “And sometimes life changes at the drop of a dime, and you take the chance.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing here, Shelby, but Grady is the one set in his ways. I’m glad I helped him in some way to find his everyday normal in a sense,” I repeat like a broken record.
“You have. And I thank you for that. We all appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”