CHAPTER 17
Garrison
Sleep still thick in my eyes, I stand in front of the ancient coffee pot in Cuzzo’s kitchen. I drum my fingers on the counter, hoping it’ll urge the java to brew a little faster. It’s ironic to me that I can sleep on some of the loudest Navy ships and wake up feeling rejuvenated and refreshed, but leave me alone with my thoughts in a silent room and I can’t sleep a wink. Of course, all of my thoughts were of Sawyer which is why I couldn’t sleep, partially because I don’t want to lose any second with her, even if it’s just in my own mind, but also because I have to figure out a way for neither of us to get hurt.
“You’re up early,” Cuzzo announces, much too chipper for how I’m feeling this morning.
“Yeah…” I mutter, grateful the coffee is finally done as I pour myself a mug.
“How’d it go with Sam Ellington?” he asks, taking the cup I just poured.
I watch the old man and shake my head. “He was a dick.”
Cuzzo chuckles as he takes a sip of the coffee I need. “I could’ve told you that.”
Pouring more java into a different mug, I take a long drink and join him at the kitchen table. “Then, why didn’t you?”
My grandfather shrugs. “She’s searching for her father, I wasn’t going to stop her. Besides, she has you by her side so I know she won’t get hurt.”
I scoff and bring the mug to my mouth, feeling the heat on my upper lip before taking a drink. I can protect that woman from any man out there except me.
“What’s that for? I told you to be kind to her, Garrison. Are you?”
I shake my head, rolling my eyes. “Fuck, Cuzzo, cut me some slack. Yes, I’m being nice to her.”
“Then why are you here, and she’s at her mom’s?”
I narrow my eyes in his direction. Even if Cuzzo can’t physically see my expressions, he still picks up on them. “What the hell does that mean? Have you been trying to play matchmaker? Dammit, Cuzz—”
“Oh, chill out,” Cuzzo interrupts me, trying to sound cool with the use of that catchphrase. “That woman is as good for you as you are for her, anyone can see that, even an old blind man like me.”
I lean back, shaking my head. “Yeah, maybe, but I’m leaving, Cuzzo. I don’t want to get involved with her just so she can be heartbroken in another week or so.”
Cuzzo lets out that deep belly laugh of his again, taking his time to ridicule my statement without saying a word. When he finally calms down, he waves his hand, still laughing slightly. “You think a lot of yourself, don’t you, grandson?”
“Fuck,” I mutter, standing up, irritated at my grandfather. “You know what I mean.”
His laughter gone, Cuzzo straightens up and speaks with the bold, confident voice I remember from when I was a child. “That you’re falling for her, but you’ve been hurt in the past so you’re going to blame her for making a move and not doing anything about it. Yes, I know exactly what you mean and hopefully, you can hear how ridiculous that sounds. Sawyer is a strong woman that her mother raised, and there’s not a damn thing you can do to take credit for that. Whether you get off your ass and make some kind of gesture, letting her know how you truly feel about her, or if you decide to be a pussy and hide from your own feelings, Sawyer will be fine. If anything, it’ll be you that’s going to be messed up when it’s time for you to leave and if you don’t do a damn thing about it, you’ll regret it until the day you die.”
I stare at my grandfather, the way I did when I was eight-years-old and broke the window to his old Buick. I look at him the same way when he was discharged from the Navy and he told me to get my head out of my ass, and to not be scared to sign up myself. His words ring in my ears, sounding familiar, yet completely different, when I told him about Clarissa cheating on me. In all the years that I’ve screwed up and made bad decisions, Cuzzo has used the same voice he’s speaking in right now to get some sense into me.
I blink my eyes, knowing exactly what I have to do. Without a word, I walk over to the sink and rinse out my coffee mug. When I turn around, Cuzzo is smiling victoriously. That old man is smug… and I hope I’m exactly like him when I grow up.
Sawyer
My body moves with the music, but my mind is far away. It’s remembering Garrison’s lips on mine, his hands on my hips, and the way my body wanted more. I didn’t want to lose contact with him, I didn’t want him to leave, but he turned his back on me and said he should go. I’ve been dancing an extra hour, hoping he’ll sneak in and surprise me like he has the last couple times I was practicing, but there’s been no sight of him. I sigh, stopping my movement and turning off the music.
He’s not coming. He’s not coming back. My eyes fill with tears and I quickly shake my head. I don’t care. My mother died, and after months, I finally broke down last night. I’m not going to cry over Garrison Cocuzzo being an asshole, I knew that from the first time I met him. Standing up, I push my shoulders back and head upstairs. I can do this on my own. I’ll finish packing up my mother’s house, the house I grew up in. I’ll go to St. Louis, find Dean Sawyer on my own, and close the chapter in my life regarding my father. I don’t need Garrison or his help… or his support. I’m a big girl and completely capable of doing this all on my own, just like I intended to when I arrived in Memphis.
Despite my internal pep talk, tears still burn in my eyes. I walk into the bathroom and turn on the water, making the temperature as hot as possible. Undressing, I step into the warm stream of water and let the tears fall down my cheeks. By doing this, I can pretend like I’m not crying, that it’s just the water running down my cheeks, but I know the truth. The truth is that I’m falling for Garrison Cocuzzo and it’s something new and different for me. I’ve never felt this way about any man before.
Every boyfriend before him wasn’t a loss when the relationship was over, it was more of a relief. With Garrison though, it’s different. He makes me feel as though I’m invincible and I can do whatever I put my mind to. Then, when I fail, he cradles me in his arms and lets me release my emotions without feeling like I’m weak. And that’s just what he does for me emotionally, physically is another story… I knew my time with him was limited from the beginning. I knew whatever we had wouldn’t last longer than our time together in Memphis and I was fine with that. Then, for whatever reason, he waltzed right out here last night for no reason whatsoever and I’m now experiencing my first heartache.
What hurts even more is that my mother isn’t here to help me through it. I slide down the shower wall, letting the water spray over me as I rest my head on my knees and sob. I miss her, I miss her so much, and it sucks knowing that I’ll never get to talk to her again. She’s never going to sing loud and off key with me again as our nails dry. I’ll never bump into her in the kitchen when I plie across the room to season whatever it is we’re trying to cook. And the Beast, we’ll never ride together in that awful vehicle, discussing how much we hate driving it. Garrison should just take the Beast… wait, he’s gone. Shaking my head, I stand up, ending my pity party. So what he’s gone? This time last week, I didn’t know who the hell he was. Think back to then, Sawyer, you can do this.
I turn off the water and wrap myself in the ugly aqua towel with a swan embroidered on the corner. My grandmother made this prior to me being born, and my mother refused to get rid of it. I always hated this towel but today, with it wrapped around me, I feel as though I’m being hugged by both my mother and my grandmother and I know I won’t ever get rid of this towel, no matter how faded and ugly it is.
Tears threaten again and I take a deep breath, forcing them to stay in place. I’ve had my breakdown, now it’s time to move forward. I walk into the bedroom and freeze. Lying on the bed is my grandmother’s dress, the dress I sold to pay for Garrison’s bike. Slowly, I walk over to the bed, running my fingers over the pale, baby blue silk. My hand moves to the sheer sleeves and back of the dress then to the light blue chiffon on the bottom of the dress. The rhinestones glimmer from the sun shining in the window. I wipe away a lone tear that escapes down my cheek before the puzzlement of how this dress got here hits me.
I run into the hallway, listening for someone else in the house but it’s silent. I grip the towel around me and run back into the bedroom. This time when I look at the bed, I see a torn piece of paper with something scribbled on it. I run over to the mattress, reading the note as my heart races.
If you think you can teach someone with two left feet, get dressed and get ready for a challenge. I’ll be waiting in the ‘ballroom.’
Butterflies go crazy in my stomach and my heart warms, melting away the ache I felt just minutes earlier. Seeing his name, in his handwriting, makes me anxious to get downstairs to him. Quickly, but carefully, I pull on my grandmother’s dress, shocked that it fits perfectly, down to the way it hugs my hips. I’m eager to get to Garrison, who is waiting downstairs, but I know I have to do justice for this dress. I head back to the bathroom, braiding my hair into a circle braid that leaves no loose hair on my neck. Moving on to my makeup, I doll up my face the way I would as if I was performing on stage or in a dance competition. Somehow, I manage to tame my nerves as I put on the finishing touches.
I walk back into the bedroom and look into the mirror. Staring at the image reflected back at me, I gasp. This is the exact look I recall from when my grandmother wore this dress. Taking a deep breath, feeling completely at peace, I walk downstairs and stop in my tracks. Standing before me in the living room, Garrison Cocuzzo tugs at the white sleeve of his Navy dress uniform. Pressed white pants, matching jacket, white shoes that are perfectly polished. The serenity I’d found flutters away as the butterflies in my stomach explode at the sight of Garrison Cocuzzo. I think it might turn out that I’m the one with two left feet after seeing him.