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He closed his eyes, his chest tearing open.
Fuck. He could do the interviews and then get out to Athens…he looked at his watch.
“And,” Jonah said. “If you have any respect for her, or her daughter, you won’t show up at the farm tonight.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Tell her I’m sorry. Can you do that?”
“I will,” Jonah said and hung up.
Chapter Thirty
The day of the picnic dawned like a picture. Bright yellow sun, clear blue sky. Warm temperatures, cool breeze. It was a day made for picnics. And she’d been so prepared, so completely on top of everything, that it felt like all she really had to do was stand around with a clipboard in her hand.
The stage was being built.
Bouncy castles were being blown up.
Face painting. Sack races. The silent auction. The food tent. Tables and chairs.
All of it being handled.
“It looks like they don’t need you,” Josie said, looping her arm through Helen’s. Helen didn’t even respond. She felt numb inside, like she’d been cleaned out. “Oh, Helen,” Josie said, and her cousin/best friend pulled her into her arms. Helen rested her head on Josie’s shoulder, the beautiful auburn hair tickling her nose, and she didn’t even care.
“This isn’t a broken heart,” she told Josie.
“Are you sure?”
“My heart’s been broken before and it didn’t feel like this.” She hadn’t been numb when Evan died. She’d been a rage of pain. She stepped back and squared her shoulders. “This feels like embarrassment. That’s all.”
“Okay,” Josie said, like she didn’t believe her even a little bit. “What can I do to help?”
Helen looked around at all the work being done and she didn’t have an answer. “Stand here with me so I don’t look stupid?” she asked with a laugh.
“No problem.” Josie slung her arm back through Helen’s just as a black town car pulled into the parking area and slowed to a stop right outside the gates they’d set up to control the crowd they were expecting.
Micah jumped out of the back seat. But then so did Alex. Out of the front seat came Ivan. They all slammed the doors and whoever was driving followed the instructions of the police officer who was controlling the comings and goings of trucks and cars.
Micah wore a grey tee-shirt and all his jewelry. The necklaces and bracelets. The ring on his thumb. He had a black bandana sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans, which were rolled just right over his beat-up boots.
“Holy shit,” Josie said. “He is smoking hot.”
“Not helpful, Josie!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but oh my god.”
“Yeah, he kind of takes your breath away,” Helen whispered. And your sense. And a little bit of your self-respect. And all of your reason. “I need to go get him set up.”
“Nope,” Josie said. “That’s what I’m doing for you. I’m handling him today.”
What a relief it would be. The same way it had been a relief for Jonah to talk to him on the phone the other night on the way home from the concert. But she couldn’t hide from him the way she’d been hiding on this mountaintop for the last three years.
She had to face him at some point, and here, surrounded by all the hard work she’d done and the people who loved her, was as good a place as any.
“I got it,” Helen said and kissed her cousin’s cheek.
She started across the park toward where Micah and Alex had gotten stopped by some fans. They were signing autographs when Micah looked up and saw her. He said something to the person he was talking to, gave Alex a quick glance and started over to her.
He was all long legs and rock-star swagger and it made her breath catch in her throat.
Get it together, Helen.
“Hi,” she said, when he was close, grateful for her sunglasses.
“Hi,” he said. “Are you all right?”
It was the way he looked at her, like there weren’t dozens of people around them. Like she was the only thing that mattered, and it was the exact same look he’d been able to give to thousands of people the other night through a jumbotron. It was part of his gift.
I’m not special.
“I’m fine,” she said with a big smile. “Great, actually. As you can see we’re off to an amazing start and—”
He reached forward and pulled her glasses from her eyes. “It’s me, Helen. I’m not a stranger. Please, don’t talk to me like I am.”
“I don’t know who you are,” she said and pulled the glasses away from him so she could put them back on. “You used me,” she whispered, the truth of her pain bubbling up from all the places she tried to shove it.
“Holy shit, Micah Sullivan!” one of the volunteers said as he walked by with rolls of raffle tickets. “I heard you were going to be here.”
