I blinked rapidly, feeling warmth flood my eyes. I had never bothered to understand how the loss of his parents had shaped the person he became.
Until now. Until I could see for myself the devastation of his loss.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice the barest hush of a whisper.
Garrett cleared his throat again and it seemed he had to take a moment to compose himself before saying more. “It was a drunk driver. They died on impact,” he said and shot a look in my direction. “That’s why I will never drive drunk or high. Ever!” he proclaimed emphatically, his eyes snapping.
Who would have thought Garrett Bellows had layers. That he was more than the stoned out guitarist with no thought to doing something more. But sitting in my darkened car, hearing him speak about losing his parents. Seeing the intensity of his misery, I forgot completely that here was a guy I had sworn I had nothing in common with. That he and I were opposites in every possible way.
But we weren’t so different, Garrett and I. Because Garrett was a whole mess of layers and he had a depth that left me breathless.
“And I’m sorry about your dad,” he finished and all of my ridiculous romanticism about the man who sat beside me shooting down the darkened highway, popped like a soap bubble. The reality of why I was here, with him, in this car, came crashing down on my shoulders like a hundred ton weight.
“Thanks,” I whispered so softly it was if all of my bones had dissolved.
My dad might die. Hell, he might be dead already, while I made the long, arduous trek to his bedside. What would I do if I never got to talk to him again? Never got to see his smile or hear him tell me teasingly to “buck up, Riley Boo?”
“How are things going at the newspaper?” Garrett asked me a little too loudly and I was wrenched from my depressing thoughts.
I blinked a few times and stared at him. “Huh?” I asked stupidly.
Garrett gripped the steering wheel so tightly I could see his knuckles turning white. His smile was forced but I appreciated the effort. “The newspaper. I’m not sure what you’re doing there, just wanted to know how it’s going,” he said.
“It’s good. Going good, I mean. I’m there for an internship. You know, to get my own byline so I can become the next Barbara Walters or something,” I answered dryly.
“Ah, so you want to write for a newspaper. That sounds cool. I can see that. Good career choice,” he remarked in a tone that was almost teasing.
“Oh, and why is that?” I asked, surprised at the subtle flirtation in my voice.
“Probably because you’re the type of chick who takes the world by its balls and refuses to let go. Not saying it like it’s a bad thing. It just makes me want to wear a cup when I’m around you,” he stated and I had to laugh.
Yes, Garrett Bellows had made me laugh. Just when I thought my world was bottoming out, here he was, taking me toward an unknown future and he was making me freaking laugh. There was something pretty wonderful about that.
“I don’t know if I should be flattered or completely insulted,” I told him wryly.
Garrett’s smile this time wasn’t forced or strained. It didn’t hold any twinge of sadness or regret. This smile was one hundred percent earthshattering. Shit, it’s a good thing I hadn’t seen it before or I would have locked him away and thrown away the key. Guys with smiles like that were lethal.
“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” he said as his smile faded and he was once again focusing on the road. Our moment of levity drifting away into the darkness rushing past us.
“Maybe you should try to sleep. We’ve got another few hours and you’ll need your rest,” Garrett suggested. My eyes felt gritty with exhaustion and I should probably take him up on his suggestion but my mind was in chaos and I knew I would never be able to shut it off.
“Why don’t you tell me about some of the places you’ll be going on your tour. I think I’d rather hear about that,” I said. Garrett looked surprised but then nodded.
“Sure. We’re going to start off in Charlotte, North Carolina at this bar called Warner’s.” I listened Garrett go into detail about the upcoming Generation Rejects tour and I was able to forget, just for a moment, that I would be with my very sick father in a few short hours. I could pretend that we were just two people, getting to know each other.
And I realized then that Garrett had a way of making me forget the things that haunted me. He had done it after my break up with Damien and here he was, doing it again. There was something amazing in the way he gathered up my pieces without my ever expecting him to.
For two people whose only interactions were humiliating or drunkenly sexual, our easy candor was shocking. I had never expected that the one person I had declared to have no place in my life, to be my one great regret, to fit so perfectly into my existence that it was as though he had always been there.
“Do you want to go straight to the hospital or head to your parents house first?” Garrett asked as he pulled off the interstate at exit 26. He turned right onto Route 23 toward the small, seaside town of Port David.
I squinted as I tried to read the clock on my dashboard. My eyes were blurry from my lack of sleep. It was already five-thirty in the morning. Garrett had insisted we stop for something to eat, saying I needed to keep my energy up, thus adding another forty-five minutes onto our travel time. I had been irritated by the suggestion but was now glad to have a full stomach.
“I think we should go to my parents’ first. I want to see if my brother and sister are there. Drop off my stuff,” I said.
“Okay, lead the way,” Garrett replied and I began to rattle off directions that took him through my sleepy hometown and out toward the coast. My parents owned a small house by the ocean. Once I had headed off to college, they had sold their larger house in town and bought the small bungalow on the beach. My parents loved getting up in the morning and drinking their tea on the sand as the sun came up.
My parents’ lives completely revolved around each other. Even when I was a child I knew that despite their love for their kids, their first and greatest love was for each other. Their relationship was a reassurance. A reminder that good things happen to good people.
At least until now.
Now all I could think of was if my dad didn’t make it, what would my mom do? How would she go on without the love of her life? Was it even possible to come back from losing the person you hung your moon on?
“Wow, this is awesome,” Garrett said as he pulled in front of the small, yellow house with its white porch and wooden fence. The sun was just coming up and it was almost magical in the way it shimmered off the rolling waves.