“I got it, Bluebird,” Gavin says quietly just to me. “Don’t move.”
He grabs a nearby dish towel and uses it to pick up the larger pieces while my brother grabs a broom and dustpan for the smaller ones. Mrs. Lawson sticks her head in and asks if everything is okay.
I’m trembling, trying to keep myself in one piece—literally—with my arms around myself when Gavin whispers in my ear that I should go lie down.
“Here, dear,” Mrs. Lawson says, reaching for me. “I’ll clear these old biddies out of here so you can get some rest.” She wraps a frail arm around my shoulders and escorts me out of the kitchen.
After thanking everyone for coming and for all of the food, I finally make it to the quiet safety of my room.
Except it isn’t safe anymore. Because now when I lie in my bed, the sharp clean scent of Gavin wraps around me along with my quilt. And all I feel is loss.
I’ve barely started to slip into the murky place between awake and unconscious when my door opens slowly. Watching it angle open wider, my mind attempts to calculate the odds of it being Gavin. Before I have a concrete number, a redhead sporting a stylish side-sweep pops around the aged wood.
“Dix?” Robyn Breeland’s emerald eyes are slightly pink around the rims but bright as always. “You in here?”
I sit up and shove my blankets into a heap at my feet. “Hey. Sorry for bailing on everyone out there. I wanted to see you. I just—”
“Do not apologize for not wanting to entertain guests after your grandfather’s funeral.”
I smile as she sits beside me on my bed, noticing how polished and sophisticated she looks. She’s wearing more makeup than she used to and the light smattering of freckles across her nose is hidden beneath it. Her black dress and tweed jacket fit her petite figure perfectly.
“You look really great, Rob. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
She nods, slipping her high heels off and letting them fall to the floor. “It’s been crazy with my new job and everything. But I saw the pictures from Austin online and I overheard someone saying y’all had a showcase in Nashville.”
My chest aches at the memory of the showcase. “It wasn’t just ours. It was kind of an audition type deal with several bands. We were just able to get a spot at the last minute.”
Robyn’s eyes scrutinize my face and I know she’s looking for clues as to what I’m not saying. She’s always been the kind of friend who just sort of got me without my having to explain much. “Gavin said it went well. He also said y’all signed with a manager. That sounds exciting.”
I shrug because it was exciting, but not so much anymore. Not since the woman I thought would be my ticket to escaping music school basically benched me.
“I guess. It all seems kind of inconsequential right now, though.”
“Well I think that’s a sufficient amount of small talk.” Robyn trains her concerned stare on me. “How are you doing? I mean, really doing.”
This is where I’m supposed to smile and put on a brave face. I should tell her it’s hard but I’m hanging in there. That he’s with Nana and in a better place and that I’ve made my peace with that. But the thread I’m hanging by is in danger of snapping. And it’s Robyn. So I pull my legs underneath me and wrap my arms around my pillow.
“I don’t know, Rob. I’d just talked to him. I was going to make him meat loaf and he sounded fine. And then . . . and then . . . Mrs. Lawson called and the world stopped spinning.”
The corners of Robyn’s mouth turn down. “God, I’m so sorry, Dix. He was such an amazing man and I know how close the two of you were, how much he meant to you.” She wraps an arm around me and leans over enough that we’re shoulder to shoulder, holding each other up. “He was like a father to me after my dad passed away. I can remember walking in your house in sweats and with my hair in a sloppy bun on Saturday mornings and Papa always greeted me the same way.”