A Song for Rory

by Cerella Sechrist

  Now, Sawyer laughed outright. “I don’t know about Harper, but my experience with Rory is that her bark is worse than her bite.”

  “Yeah, well, that might be because she’s in love with you.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ONCE THE WORDS were out there, the atmosphere grew serious. Sawyer said nothing and neither did Connor. They stood there, the silence growing until Connor sighed.

  “Why did you come back here, Sawyer? After the way you left, after all this time...why now? Your life is so far removed from here. Your face is recognized everywhere you go.”

  Sawyer tried not to wince, remembering how he’d shown up at Connor’s restaurant, his presence disrupting business.

  “Why couldn’t you just leave things well enough alone?”

  Sawyer let the question hang there for a minute as he carefully formed his words.

  “Because I can’t live without her,” he finally admitted. He considered how best to explain it to Connor. “What if you had everything a chef could want? What if Callahan’s was even more successful than it is now? Let’s say you owned several restaurants, you had a contract for cookbooks, your own television show, you’d won multiple competitions.”

  Connor cocked his head, and Sawyer could tell he had his full attention.

  “What if you could have all that...but not Harper?”

  Connor blinked, and Sawyer could see by the widening of the other man’s eyes that he’d driven his point home.

  “That’s what it’s like,” he said. “I was foolish when I broke things off. I’d convinced myself it was time, that it was better for both of us if we parted ways. Worst of all, I told myself that she’d be happier without me.”

  Connor’s jaw hardened, and Sawyer held up a hand.

  “Look, I know it was selfish. But it was just one of the things I told myself to justify leaving her. And by the time I realized how wrong I was, it was too late to simply call her up and tell her I’d made a mistake. So I kept going, assuming that missing her was no different than being homesick. I thought it was something that would go away in time. Only, it didn’t.”

  He released a breath and, to his surprise, felt a weight lift off his chest. He’d told Rory how he felt, how much he’d missed her. But confessing it to Connor was like absolution. Perhaps because Connor was the only real family Rory had left. If Sawyer was going to ask anyone’s permission, ask their blessing on his relationship with Rory, it would be Connor’s.

  “But why now?” Connor persisted. “Why did you come back when you did?”

  Sawyer considered this. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I guess I just couldn’t lie to myself anymore. I’ve experienced a lot in the last two years, but I’ve wasted a lot of time, too. I spent too much of it convincing myself I’d forget her eventually. I figured since we’d been together for so long, it would take a while to stop thinking about her. But I couldn’t stop. She’s still the first person I want to talk to when something happens. I can be in the middle of a conversation with someone, and the next thing I know, I’ve missed something they said because I was wondering what Rory was doing, right at that moment. There have been so many instances when I’m in the middle of a concert, look out over the audience and think I see her. And every time, I nearly stop singing because I try to get a better view and see if it’s really her.” He swallowed. “Without her...I’ve lost the music, somehow. Not just the melody but the lyrics, too. Everything I try to create just feels off.”

  “Well, it doesn’t seem to have hurt your career.” Connor’s tone lacked sympathy.

  Sawyer frowned. “It’s not that I can’t write songs...it’s just that there’s no heart in them. Not like there used to be when I was with Rory.” He felt sheepish admitting this to Rory’s brother, but he figured he might as well be honest. “I don’t have anyone to sing for anymore, as strange as that might sound. The fans are great. Being a country artist is awesome. But when Rory isn’t around, something’s missing.”

  He took a step forward and raked a hand through his hair, wishing he could explain himself better. “Do you know I’d still reach for my phone on any given day just to call her?” His voice grew quiet. “And do you know how disappointing it felt when I realized I couldn’t?”

  “Not couldn’t,” Connor amended, his voice hard. “Wouldn’t.”

  Sawyer hung his head. He couldn’t argue with that. He’d had plenty of opportunities to call Rory, to come back to town, to reach out in some way. And he hadn’t taken one of them. Until now.

  “Connor, I’m not defending myself. I was wrong. The way I broke up with her was totally disrespectful. I was selfish. I made a mistake. But I’m here now. And I will do anything I can to win her back.”

  Connor shook his head. “You didn’t see what it did to her. You didn’t see how depressed she became.” His voice dropped so low that Sawyer had to take a step closer to hear him. “There were nights I was afraid to let her go home to the apartment alone. I was afraid...she’d hurt herself,” he whispered.

  The words caused a sharpness in Sawyer’s chest, cutting off his air supply. The thought of Rory harming herself because of him...it was more than he could stomach. He feared he might lose his dinner there on Connor’s back porch.

  “She went to a very dark place for a while, mate. And even when she came out of it, she was different. More serious. She doesn’t laugh like she once did.”

  Sawyer’s soul ached.

  “It was hard for her when we were kids, after our dad first moved us from Ireland to the States. She didn’t know where she belonged anymore. I’m not sure she ever did...until high school, when the two of you started dating. So when you dropped her, she lost her way. It was as if she didn’t just lose you,” Connor continued. “It was like she lost her hopes and her dreams, her life. I suppose, in a way, that’s exactly what your leaving cost her.”

  Sawyer let this soak in as he and Connor stood in silence. A breeze lifted up, and he shivered. Connor’s words had sobered him. He’d known he’d hurt her. But he had no idea just how deeply. Neither of them spoke for several minutes.

  Connor cleared his throat. “She’s still wary, but I think she’s forgiven you. She called to tell me you were coming tonight. Warned me not to say anything to you.”

  “I have a feeling you’re going to disregard her request.”

  Connor eyed him sharply. “I’m her brother, Sawyer. If I don’t watch out for her, who will?”

  “I will,” Sawyer countered without hesitation. “I’m not stepping out again. I’m going to make up for the last two years.”

  “And then?” Connor’s voice held a challenge. “At the risk of sounding like my dad would have, I have to know...what are your intentions regarding my sister?”

  Sawyer wanted to be offended. After all, he and Connor had known each other a long time. They’d been friends, not just because of Rory, but because they’d gone to high school together and had spent a fair amount of time in each other’s company. Sawyer had always liked Connor, even admired him. But his question hurt. He knew he deserved it, but he’d never been challenged like this before. Both Connor and his father before him had liked him, had seemed to approve of him as Rory’s boyfriend. Sawyer knew it was his own fault that trust had been broken, but he chafed at Connor’s doubt just the same.

  “I want to marry her,” Sawyer announced.

  He wasn’t sure if that was the answer Connor had been expecting. His one-time friend watched him, his expression inscrutable.

  “And I’d really like your blessing,” Sawyer added.

  Connor released a breath, muttered something and raked a hand over his face.

  “Are you serious this time?”

  “I’m serious,” Sawyer answered. “I want to make her my wife, if she’ll have me. I’ve waited long enough. We were high-school swe
ethearts, and she stayed with me while I was in the army, and then all those years on the road together. I know I messed up, but I want to spend the rest of my life with her, making up for that.”

  “Have you thought things through?” Connor challenged. “You’re famous now. Practically your entire life is lived in the media’s eye. And if you marry her, then by extension, Rory’s will be, too. Your life, your relationship with her...it’s not as simple as it once was.”

  “No, it’s not,” Sawyer agreed. “But Rory and I will find a way. I understand your concern for her. But she’s stronger than you give her credit for. She always has been.”

  “I know that,” Connor said. “I don’t mean to imply she’s weak.” The tension drained out of Connor’s expression. “I just want her to be happy. If you can give that to her, then I’m on your side. But if you break her heart again—”

  Sawyer held up his hands. “Stop right there. You don’t need to say anything else. I won’t break her heart, Connor. I promise. I love her.”

  Connor relaxed, his shoulders sagging.

  “In that case...you have my blessing.”

  Now it was Sawyer’s turn to stand at ease. He felt a swell of relief, as if his absolution was complete.

  “Thank you. That’s good to hear.”

  Connor grinned. “You know, I have to admit...it’s nice to see you haven’t let fame and fortune go to your head.”

  Sawyer smiled in return. “Well, there are days when it’s easy to get puffed up. But I think even though she wasn’t physically with me, it’s been Rory who has kept me grounded.”

  Connor arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

  “Every time someone tells me how talented I am, I can just hear Rory in my ear saying, ‘Oh, trust me, mate, he’s not so great as all that.’” He put the proper Irish inflection into his words, mimicking Rory’s accent perfectly.

  Connor laughed loudly as the two of them headed back inside the house. When he reentered the living room, Sawyer immediately found his way to Rory’s side. She looked up at his approach, her brow furrowed in question. She slid a quick glance at her brother, who was joining Harper, and then back to him.

  “Everything all right?” she asked, obviously curious about why Connor had pulled him aside.

  “Everything is fine,” he promised, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. His heart swelled with happiness when she didn’t pull back but rather looked up at him, her expression open and unguarded. “Everything is going to be fine.”

  * * *

  IT WAS LATE when Sawyer headed back to his parents’ home. While he’d been with Rory, he’d been able to avoid thinking of the news his parents had shared earlier that day. But once he was by himself, dark emotions of guilt and grief settled heavily on his heart. He knew the responsibility he felt was irrational. It wasn’t as if his being home would have prevented the disease. But he couldn’t help feeling as though he’d failed his family in some way. If he had been here, maybe they would have gotten the diagnosis sooner. Perhaps they could have done something to stave it off, to buy more time.

  He supposed it didn’t matter now. His father had Alzheimer’s. And no amount of wishing or regret would change that.

  He wrestled with his conscience during the short drive home. When he reached his parents’ place, he pulled the truck into the driveway behind Chase’s car and killed the engine. His mom had left the front floodlights on, and he navigated his way to the front porch by their glow. He let himself in with the spare key hidden beneath the cracked hydrangea pot next to the porch and stepped quietly inside the house. He’d barely locked the door when his mother’s soft voice carried from the kitchen.

  “There you are.”

  He turned to face her and noticed the kitchen light was on.

  “I was beginning to get worried.”

  He wasn’t sure how to react. He still felt slightly betrayed by his parents, but his sorrow and guilt were beginning to outweigh his anger.

  “You didn’t need to wait up,” he finally said.

  “I’m your mother. It’s written in the mom’s manifesto—no matter how old our children become, we wait until they’re safely home before going to bed.”

  “There’s a manifesto for this stuff?” He injected a teasing note into his tone.

  She placed a finger against her lips, the glow from the kitchen behind her illuminating her head with a halo. “The bylaws forbid us from discussing it.”

  He couldn’t help grinning. This was the same sort of silliness that had made his childhood so magical. His mom knew how to turn everyday conversations into something enchanting. But just like that, his mom’s teasing became serious.

  “I thought we could talk,” she said. “I’ve made some tea, and there are butterscotch cookies.”

  He wasn’t very hungry. But he knew the cookies were his mom’s way of making up for how their earlier conversation had gone.

  “Okay,” he agreed. He wasn’t sure exactly what else his mother wanted to speak to him about. Was it just a rehashing of his father’s diagnosis? If so, he didn’t know if he had the strength to hear the words a second time. But he supposed, after bearing this burden alone for so long, she deserved his ear. So he followed her into the kitchen without protest.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Sawyer nibbled at his third butterscotch cookie. Though he had little appetite, the sweet, butter-rich dough melted in his mouth, tempting him to eat more than he should have. Besides, it gave him an excuse to pause before answering his mother’s questions about his evening and his attempts at winning Rory back.

  “I think we’re getting there,” he finally responded, “but it’ll take some time.”

  His mother nodded and seemed to know better than to press the issue.

  “I suppose I’ll have to make another batch of those tomorrow,” she commented as he polished off the last bite of cookie.

  “How about chocolate chip this time?” he suggested. This drew a smile from her, but it was a sad one.

  He felt cookie crumbs catch in his throat and coughed to clear them. Was this what conversations were to be like now? This cloud of every word they refused to say hanging over their heads?

  “It’s good to have you home,” she said.

  “It’s good to be back,” he admitted. “I stayed away too long. I’m sorry for that.”

  She waved a hand. “You were following your dream, and you have to know how proud both your father and I are of you. I confess, I called up all the family when you won Artist of the Year.”

  He felt a flush of pleasure at his mom’s praise. “Thanks.”

  “Mind you, they’d all been watching the award show anyway. Your cousins in Virginia, Aunt Margie’s boys, they invited all their friends over to see it. The guys were placing bets on you winning. Margie said they made out like bandits.” She chuckled, and he sensed she was delaying the inevitable. He felt a stab of worry, made worse by knowing that she’d already kept one huge secret from him. Was there more?

  He reached across the table to draw her hand in his. His touch seemed to startle her because she stopped talking and looked at him with wide eyes. He noticed several additional fine lines around her mouth and temples that he hadn’t remembered seeing before. How long had they been there? Were they the result of what she’d been through, worrying over his dad?

  Again, he felt the sting of self-reproach. Why had he stayed away so long? He should have found time to come back sooner, or called more. How hard would it have been to send a text or an email from the tour bus once in a while?

  He closed his eyes and tried to stop these runaway thoughts. When he opened them again, his mother’s expression had softened to one of sympathy.

  “I’m sorry we weren’t more sensitive to how you’d react.”

  He let g
o of her hand and ran his own through his hair. “It was just a lot to take in all at once.”

  “Not only that, but you felt...left out?”

  He nodded, relieved that she understood.

  “And guilty,” he added.

  She cocked her head. “Guilty? Whatever for?”

  He sighed and slid his hands down from his hair and over his face, scraping his palms over his cheeks. “For not being here. For not checking in more often. I should have known what was going on. You shouldn’t have had to wait this long to tell me.”

  “Oh, Sawyer.” She shook her head. “Being here wouldn’t have changed anything. Your father would still have this disease, whether you’d checked in or not.”

  “I know,” he admitted, choking slightly on the words. He took a minute to rein in his emotions, then asked, “How did you find out? I mean, I know he was tested and everything. But before that...when did you first notice something was wrong?”

  She looked past Sawyer, as though watching her memories take place at some point behind him. “It started with little things,” she began. “On the weekends, I would make him breakfast, but at lunchtime, he’d ask what we were having for breakfast. Then one day—one day, we were out shopping at the new hardware store, and they asked for our email address to sign up for their mailing list. He couldn’t remember it, which I thought was odd but not alarming. Then later that day, we stopped at the market, and when we got back in the car, he said we still needed to go to the hardware store.” She shook her head. “I think the scary part was that he didn’t even seem confused at that point. He simply had no recollection of where we’d already been.”

  He tried not to wince. Without the knowledge of his father’s diagnosis, he likely would have dismissed all this as absentmindedness. But knowing about the disease made his mother’s words positively chilling.

  “Friends would call, and by the time he hung up the phone, he couldn’t remember the name of who he’d just spoken with. I found out later that one afternoon on the way home from work, he called Chase because he couldn’t remember how to find his way back here.” The lines scoring her forehead deepened. “He convinced Chase not to say anything to me, but several weeks afterward, he told me about it. He said he told Chase he was just so overwhelmed with stuff at work that he’d had a momentary memory lapse.”