Is that why I never expected it from Pierre? Strange that we become so accustomed to less, we don’t even know how to recognize more. And funny what you learn about yourself when you’re left with nothing else but time to dissect every decision you’ve ever made.
I’ve blamed myself the most. Then, Pierre, never analyzing how my childhood groomed me to be his perfect victim.
Victim.
Victim?
Victim.
No matter the way I taste it, the word is sour.
Is that me? Is that what I am? Reducing it down to only that doesn’t seem fair. Or accurate. Because I’ve seen myself as a willing contributor. I stayed. I kept going back and back and back again.
At times, I provoked. I taunted. I fought back knowing what the result would be.
I can’t reconcile it. Not today. Maybe not ever.
The mood turns lighter. I think Maggie senses I need it too, her hand patting mine again. I’ve never felt more seen.
She begins to tell stories of Grady and Juliet as children. Like the time they strung a pulley system between the two houses so they could pass food to each other without having to cross the yard. And the time they dressed like the other for Halloween. They picked outfits for each other, Juliet making Grady wear theshortest mini skirt she could fit him in. Irma donated a wig to the cause. But Grady took it all in stride, enjoying the attention he got all day, much to Juliet’s disappointment.
My mood shifts rapidly the more we laugh. I wonder what it might have been like to grow up with someone so close. Someone the same age with the same zest for life. With parents that let their child live.
I wonder if Grady wanted that for Paige, before his marriage fell apart.
“Is it okay that I’m going on a date with Grady tonight?” It’s a question I’ve wanted to ask all morning, but I wait for a lull in conversation to do so.
“It’s okay with me,” Maggie says. “His father and I have been encouraging him to date again.”
“It’s okay with me, too,” Juliet adds. “It’s probably good for both of you.”
“You think? What if I’m not ready?” I’ve been in Stowaway for under a month. It’s too soon to be thinking about another relationship.
“He didn’t propose matrimony,” Juliet says. “Go have fun. You’ve earned some.”
“I agree with Jules on this one,” Maggie says. “There’s no reason to put labels or rules on it. Go with the flow of things. Besides, I believe people are ready for love whenever it presents itself. Often, it’s not the best timing. Love finds its way.”
“You can take it slow,” Juliet says. “Think of tonight as dipping your toe in the water. Testing the temperature.”
“Is that fair to Grady, though?”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Maggie says. “I may be biased, but Grady is a patient and understanding man.”
“He wouldn’t have asked you if he was worried about that,” Juliet says, confidently.
Either I take their word for it, or I cancel the date, which I don’t want to do. Grady is the type of guy I dreamed of as a girl. Strong but gentle, firm but kind, dependable, and handsome as hell.
I’ve spent a career draped around the most beautiful men in the world. Not one of them compares to the raw good looks of Grady Steele.
My nerve endings are firing on all cylinders by the time Grady knocks on the front door. Despite Juliet telling me seven different times that I’m not underdressed for anything in Stowaway, I thought about changing my outfit for the last hour.
It’s jeans, a simple but colorful blouse that I’ve left an extra button undone on, and boots. Maybe I should have put on a dress. Or put my hair up instead of leaving it down to curl around my shoulders. Jewelry…I should have added jewelry.
“Get out of your head and answer the door, Louisa,” Juliet whispers in my ear, amused. “Go, woman. Liveyourlife.”
God damn it, she’s right. My head is my home and I’ve become a recluse. An agoraphobic. Too afraid. Fearful of what I can’t control. Fearful even of what I can. It’s time I let some of that go. It’s time to step back into the world.
With my shoulders squared, even if my bravado is held up by a wish, I walk to the door and open it to Grady.
