Someone You Love by Kristen Granata
Charly
It takes a few days for Bryce to get back on his feet.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t difficult to see him laid out in pain like that. But now that he’s walking around, I know he’s feeling better, and that’s what I try to focus on.
“Will you give me a hint where we’re going?”
Bryce shakes his head. “You’ll see when we get there.”
This afternoon, he told me to wear my bathing suit, and pack a towel, but those were the extent of his clues.
I tap my finger against my chin. “Something aquatic, obviously.” I scratch behind Edward’s ears, who’s buckled between us. “And it’s something Edward can partake in.”
“Stop trying to figure it out, Sherlock.”
My leg bounces against the seat. “I’m just so excited.”
“We still have a while until we’re there. Tell me about dance class last night. How did it go?”
I grin. “It was so much fun. The music was lively, and Gianna is super talented. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move my body like her, but I think I held my own.”
“Who did you end up getting partnered with?”
“This adorable old man. His name is Freddie. He said he’s learning how to dance because his wife always loved to dance, and now that she’s gone, he wants to feel close to her.” I press my palm to my chest. “I wanted to cry right there in the middle of the dance studio.”
Bryce smiles. “It’s like you two were meant to be paired up. You’re there for your mom, and he’s there for his wife.”
“He can’t keep up with all of the moves, which kind of stinks for me because I really want to go as fast as Gianna is teaching us.” I scrunch my nose. “I hate saying it, but I wish I had been partnered up with someone else. But he’s the cutest thing, and I adore him.”
“Maybe Gianna will let you switch.”
My head falls back against the headrest. “I could never ask her to switch. I don’t want to break Freddie’s heart, and—” Bryce pulls into a parking lot next to a big sign that reads Jet Ski Rentals, and I squeal. “Oh, my God! This is going to be so much fun.”
Bryce chuckles. “Surprise. You’ll get to cross off another thing on your bucket list.”
I hop out of the truck, and follow Bryce into the hut on the beach where I listen to the instructor’s directions, and fill out a form to show that I understand everything I’ve been taught.
“How come you’re not filling out the paperwork?” I wave my clipboard in front of Bryce. “Have you done this before?”
He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, using his cane for support. “I, uh, I’m not riding with you.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not supposed to do things that cause an impact on my spine. Bungee jumping, sky diving, roller coasters. There are some activities that aren’t safe for me.”
“Oh.” I frown, disappointment settling into the pit of my stomach.
“This day is for you, Charly. Enjoy it.” Bryce holds up his phone. “Besides, you’ll need someone to take pictures, right? Edward and I will cheer you on from the sidelines.”
This man.
So selfless, so thoughtful. I can’t imagine Greg taking me to do something while he just sat and watched.
I fling my arms around Bryce, and bury my face in his chest, inhaling a lungful of his sweet and spicy scent. “I appreciate you more than I can ever express.”
He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “Ditto. Now go have fun.”
And that I do. I spend the next thirty minutes cutting across the water like a bullet. The speed is exhilarating as water sprays against me, the wind whipping through my hair. I shriek like a kid, racing back and forth. I wave at Bryce each time I pass the area where he’s playing fetch with Edward, and laugh when Edward barks and wags his tail, running into the water as if he can catch me.
After my time is up, Bryce takes me to a sandbar where we let Edward run around and romp in the water before we head back to the inn. The scared and battered dog is sweet and loveable. All he needed was someone to love him, and treat him right. Someone he can trust. He reminds me a lot of Bryce in that regard.
No longer is Bryce closed-off and grumpy, the brooding man I met on my first day here. Now, he smiles and laughs. He’s willing to have important conversations with me. He doesn’t brush me off, or make excuses for anything. He’s real, and compassionate, and confident in his skin. And he listens. God, does he listen, to even the things I don’t say—I don’t have to say them, because he gets me.
The more time we spend together, the more I realize how wrong Greg was for me.
July 10th
Dear Mom,
You were right about Greg. I don’t know why I didn’t see it sooner. Or maybe I did, but I was just afraid of the truth. I pretend like Dad leaving didn’t bother me because I was so young, but it affected me in ways I didn’t see coming. I stayed with Greg because it was simple. Safe. I knew what to expect. He consistently disappointed me, and I knew he would, so I let him. I felt like Dad couldn’t love me the way I wanted him to love me, so I chose a partner who made me feel the same way.
But Bryce keeps surprising me. He does things for me—for me, without any ulterior motives. He helps me, and cares for me. He makes me feel like I’ve never felt before. And that scares me. Now that I have him in my life, I don’t want to lose him.
I don’t want him to leave the way Dad did.
Bryce leans over my shoulder, and kisses my bare skin there. “Writing about your day?”
“I am.” I flip the journal closed, and roll onto my back, gazing up at the white cotton candy clouds moving over us. “Do you ever feel sad you can’t do things like this?” I gesture to the people on jet skis zipping through the water. “Does it get you down?”
Bryce lies on his back beside me on the towel, and Edward curls up between his legs. “It used to. I was bitter for a while in the beginning. But it took time to adjust to my new life.”
I lace my fingers together on my stomach. “I went to grief counseling after finding out my mother had a year left to live. It helped. But I think maybe I should go back to therapy, and talk about my dad. I’ve been carrying around this weight my entire life, and I want to let it go. I want to let go of the way he made me feel when he left. I don’t want to live my life making decisions from that place of hurt, and betrayal.”
“I think you should go.” He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “You’re too amazing to be walking around thinking you’re not good enough to stick around for.” He leans in and kisses me, but pulls back too soon. “I have to ask you something.”
I prop myself up on my elbow. “Anything.”
“Would you want to come to the charity event with me in September? Be my plus one?”
Excitement shoots through me. “Of course. I’d love to.”
“Okay, good.” He grins. “Because Nana wants to take you dress shopping.”
I didn’t realize Beatrice wanted to take me dress shopping tonight.
The woman loves any excuse to buy something new.
“Have you been to an event like this before?” I run my fingertips over the silky fabric of a red gown. “Are they really this fancy?”
Beatrice nods. “I’ve been to a few in my day. Nothing as big as an NFL charity gala, of course.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m thrilled you’ve convinced Bryce to attend.”
“I really didn’t do anything. He came to the decision on his own.”
“He’s been different since you came here, Charly. Don’t dismiss the impact you’ve had on him.” She squeezes my hand. “I love seeing how happy he is lately, and I’m no fool. I know it’s all thanks to you.”
My cheeks heat. “We’ve really been enjoying each other’s company.”
“It’s fate, you know. You coming here, of all places. Then the storm blowing that tree through your room.”
“I think that was just a coincidence.”
She arches her penciled eyebrow. “You don’t believe in fate?”
“I don’t know.” I walk over to the next rack, and flip through the hangers. “It’s hard to believe this is all orchestrated by a higher being. I think maybe things just happen because they happen. Why does there have to be a reason?”
“Ah.” Beatrice taps her cane against the floor. “You’re a realist.”
“If everything happens for a reason, then what’s the reason my mom got sick and died so young? Why did my father have to get hooked on drugs, and abandon his family? Why did Bryce have to lose football when he loved it so much?” My hand smacks against my thigh. “What if people need to pretend like it’s all for some higher purpose just to make themselves feel better?”
Beatrice pauses, pondering her response before answering. “The truth is, no one really knows for sure. But what are the odds of finding someone you connect with, out of millions of people on this planet—especially one your age, who’s single, and you both find each other attractive?” She huffs out a laugh. “Sounds like external forces are at work to me.”
“It does seem like a long shot.”
“That’s because it is, my dear.” Beatrice taps her fingers against her lips as she stares at a row of dresses. She reaches forward, and lifts a yellow dress off the rack. Her eyes light up. “This. You have to try this on.”
Aside from the flashy color, I notice the price tag right away. “This is a little out of my price range.”
Beatrice clicks her tongue. “Don’t you worry about the price. You’ve been cooking and helping out at the inn when this is supposed to be your vacation. You’ve earned this dress. Consider it a paycheck.”
“You’ve already made your mind up, haven’t you?”
She gives me an emphatic nod, and leads the way to the dressing room. “If you hate the way it looks on you, we can keep looking. But something tells me this dress is the one.”
“Is this fate, too?”
Beatrice grins. “It just might be.”
Rhinestone straps hold up the plunging sweetheart neckline, crisscrossing at the open back. The chiffon fabric hugs my curves, fitting my body like a glove, and flaring out at the bottom. Of course, Beatrice found the perfect pair of strappy heels to match the rhinestone detailing on the dress.
She claps when I emerge from the dressing room. “This dress was made for you. What did I tell you? You’re absolutely stunning.”
I turn and look over my shoulder in the mirror, loving the way the material dips down to the small of my back. Anticipation fizzes in my stomach like a shaken bottle of soda when I think about Bryce’s reaction when he sees me in this dress.
“I’ll take it.”
Beatrice claps, the bangles on her wrists jingling with the movement. “Wonderful.”
“Can you hold it for me until I leave? I don’t want Bryce to see it until the night of the gala.”
“Absolutely.” Beatrice brushes my hair to one side, gazing at my reflection in the mirror. “You know, I was pleased to hear that you’ve made plans to see each other after the summer ends. Maybe I’ll get to see you too.”
“Did you think you wouldn’t?”
She looks away. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to keep in touch once you get back home, and I didn’t want to pressure you to make you feel like you had to.”
Sadness tugs my conscience, and I turn to face her, taking both of her hands in mine. “Beatrice, if you think I’m never going to see you again, you have another thing coming. You’ve been so kind, and you’ve helped me so much. You’re going to be stuck with me for a long, long time.”
She throws her arms around me, and pulls me into her embrace. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. You’ve become like a granddaughter to me, and you’ve brought so much sunshine into our lives here.”
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I hug her tighter, breathing in her sweet vanilla scent. “You told me this place would heal me, but it’s you who has been helping me heal.”
Beatrice rocks me back and forth. “You might not believe in fate, but I do, Charly. I believe you came into our lives for a reason.”
Maybe she’s right. Maybe everything that has happened in my life has led me to this exact point. No one can ever know for sure. But there’s one thing I’m certain of: I’m grateful that I found my way to Sunnyside.
And I have Mom to thank for that.