Page 83 of Grumpy Bear

I groaned. “Oh my God. They were going to film it.”

“Well, to be honest, you dodged a bullet there. That man is allergic to cameras.” Jim frowned. “But I wonder why he hasn’t called me.”

We piled out of the cart, and Karen led us up the stairs. “I need some coffee,” Jim announced. “You want a cup? Let’s grab some real quick, then you need to fill me in on everything that happened and what the hell’s going on with you.”

A few minutes later, we settled down in the big comfy leather chairs in front of the cold hearth in the main lobby overlooking the view down the holler.

“Did you want to call Coleman?”

Jim shook his head. “Nope. Not before our little debrief. Talk to me.”

So, I told him all about my past and all the things I’d barely said to myself. Explaining it to Jim was essentially a therapy session. It helped me clarify some things. “I made a promise to myself. To pursue a simple love for my music. To do it on my own and not put myself in situations where another man has the ability to isolate me from everyone and then throw me out on my ass.”

“Ah.” Jim had let me talk for a long time without commenting. “You thought being here… It’s Sawyer’s world. His campground. His rules.”

“His roof over my head. Literally. From the day I arrived.”

“You left because you were trying to break the pattern.”

“Yeah.”

Jim’s brown eyes softened. “Honey, you did break it.”

I leaned forward, desperate for some affirmation. “How do you know that?”

“Because you have friends here, not just Sawyer. I’m not sure any of those other men cared about you. Not sure any of them knew how. I’m not going to say your parents didn’t care about you, but throwing your own kid out in the name of religion is some fucked up shit. I’ll leave that sermon for another day. But Sawyer’s nothing like your dad or any of your exes. I can promise you that.”

“But we barely know each other. I mean, it hasn’t even been a week.”

“So? There’s a real connection, right?”

“Yeah. I’m a little afraid to say it out loud but yes. For me, absolutely.”

“Connections are magic. They’re miracles. And miracles can happen in the blink of an eye.” Jim paused, narrowing his eyes at me. He studied me with the same look he had the day he hired me. He was on the verge of telling me something, I could sense it, but then he seemed to shift gears. “I happen to know Sawyer better than he knows himself, and I know he wants you here.”

“I wish he’d said so before I left.”

“Didn’t he? From what he told me, he tried. He put it out there. But then, you had this chance to make your dreams come true. What is somebody who truly cares about your happiness going to say in the face of that?”

I sighed. “He told me to go kill it.”

“Well, there you go. I rest my case. What he failed to say was that you were welcome back if it didn’t work out.”

“Am I?”

“Hell yeah, you are. As far as I’m concerned. But I think maybe you need to hear that from him. So now”—Jim heaved himself out of the chair and marched to the office—“I’m going to find out where the hell he is and why he hasn’t called me.”

38

Sawyer

The caller ID on the truck dash said it was the lodge calling. Jim.

“In the immortal words of Miss Reba McEntire, why haven’t I heard from you?”

“It’s been a day. I needed some time with my thoughts.” God, that sounded emo as shit, but I guess I was entitled. I’d set out to make this big thing happen. I’d driven to Atlanta like a bat out of hell. I’d kept looking over at the guitar on the seat beside me, envisioning the moment when Luke saw it. When he saw me. I’d imagined grabbing him up in my arms and all the things I would say to him. I should never have let him go. There was nobody like him… Basically, your standard end-of-a-Hallmark-movie bullshit. And I’d started to believe that it could happen, that my life might turn out to be a fairy tale after all. Pathetic. “He wasn’t there, Jim. They said he’d left with no explanation. He didn’t tell anybody where he was going.”

There was an unnaturally long silence for a conversation with Jim. “Where are you?”