A Song for Rory

by Cerella Sechrist

  “Some local news station got you on video, announcing your father has some sort of dementia. The AP wire picked it up, and now it’s being broadcast on every cable channel with an entertainment news ticker. When did you plan to clue me in to this? I’m just your manager, after all.”

  He prickled at her words. “It’s a private matter. Between my family and me.”

  “Well, not anymore, sugar.” Perle’s Southern accent had gradually returned to her voice. “If it was so private, you shouldn’t have made a statement to some nobody reporter. You should have come to me so we could have released this news to maximum effect.”

  A spark of anger lit, and he quickly moved from the kitchen and toward the hall that led into the garage. He didn’t want to have this conversation within earshot of his parents.

  “This isn’t a press release, Perle. This is my life.”

  He closed the door to the garage, breathing in the cool, musty smells of concrete and drywall.

  “Your entire life is a press release, darlin’. If you haven’t realized that yet, you better wake up and smell the bacon.”

  Previously, he’d found Perle’s use of clichés amusing. This one fell flat.

  “I understand that, but this is nobody’s business but my own.”

  Perle sighed dramatically. “Celebrities at your level don’t have that luxury. Like it or not, your life is on display. It’s free game for any tabloid or blogger. You don’t get secrets anymore, sugar. I wish you did. Sorry.”

  The apology put him over the edge. One word that was supposed to make everything better. What a weak and pathetic attempt at consolation.

  “Why do people think their sympathy makes a difference? I don’t care if you’re sorry. What good does that do me? Your sorry doesn’t fix anything. It’s not a cure. And my dad doesn’t have dementia, by the way. He has Alzheimer’s. The kind that strikes people when they’re still young. The kind that gets passed down through generations. The kind that can kill you before you reach forty. The kind that I might very well have right now without even knowing it. So pardon me if your sorry doesn’t do much for me.”

  Perle was silent for so long that some of Sawyer’s ire deflated, and he began to regret speaking so harshly to the woman he owed so much to. But it also felt good to yell at someone, to let out the anger he’d had on a slow simmer the last few days.

  “Listen, it’s just been...rough on this end,” he said.

  “I can tell,” Perle offered, her tone cool.

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what else to say, other than to apologize. And somehow, he didn’t feel like saying he was sorry for wanting the world to leave him alone while he sorted things out.

  After a time, Perle sighed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. “Are you telling the truth, about possibly having Alzheimer’s? Or are you blowing smoke?”

  He leaned his forehead against the garage wall and closed his eyes. “It’s the truth.” He elaborated a bit, telling her about the mutated genes that caused the disease and how there was a real possibility he’d inherited them from his dad. He didn’t have that many illusions about his relationship with Perle. They got along well, and he appreciated how she’d helped in launching his career. But he recognized that they weren’t friends, and by telling her this, he might be jeopardizing their working relationship.

  “It sounds to me like you have a lot to figure out.”

  He released a breath, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. “Yeah. I’d say you’re right.”

  “Then tell me how you want to handle this. My phone’s been ringing off the hook with questions and interview requests. I can compose a formal press release, if you tell me how much you want the world to know.”

  He was both surprised and touched. Perle knew the power of leverage, and this kind of news was certainly something she could exploit in order to elevate his notoriety. But by asking how much she should share, she’d just given him the right to control how far he let the rest of the world in. He was grateful to her for that. They spent the next several minutes going over the details of what to announce and how to present it.

  “You know this is going to gain you a whole new level of exposure,” she said once they’d wrapped up the conversation.

  “I know,” he admitted.

  “You sure you’re ready for it?”

  He considered this, remembering what it felt like to have the reporters in his face yesterday, how threatened he felt by their interference. He thought about Rory. Was this something he should discuss with her first? Should he ask her opinion or how she felt about such a private issue being paraded before the public?

  As much as he wanted to get her input, he wasn’t sure it mattered. His life wasn’t exactly his own anymore. And as much as he wanted Rory in it, he was beginning to realize that might not be best for her.

  “Sawyer? I want to make sure you’re okay before we proceed with this.”

  He straightened and leaned his back against the wall. “I’m not sure I have much of a choice.”

  His uneasiness only increased when Perle didn’t deny it.

  * * *

  IT HAD BEEN three days since Rory saw Sawyer. It was the longest time they’d gone without seeing each other since he’d returned to Findlay Roads. They’d communicated by text and one phone call, and Rory had done her best to give him space. But without the constant contact, doubts had crept in. What if she and Sawyer weren’t meant to be? Their paths had diverged so dramatically that maybe it was a sign they should let their past be the past. With the added threat of Alzheimer’s, she couldn’t shake the idea that fate was trying to tell her something.

  Now she was driving to the welcome-home party for Gavin, who had arrived in town on army leave to participate as a groomsman in Connor’s wedding. She and Sawyer could have gone to the party together, but he hadn’t suggested it, and she didn’t want to ask him. So they were attending separately. That in itself didn’t bode well for them.

  Sawyer’s life was so different now. In the last seventy-two hours that had become abundantly clear, beginning with the reporters who had assaulted them following the Alzheimer’s support group in Towson. At the time, her focus had been on Sawyer, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to consider how strange the situation was—how far removed it was from the kind of existence she and Sawyer had once lived.

  But the next day, after she’d read the local headlines about Sawyer’s presence at the support group, her mind had begun to spin. Was this the life she wanted for herself? She’d seen how painful it had been for Sawyer to confront those reporters. Even worse, she had witnessed their utter disregard for his requests for privacy. She couldn’t imagine such an intrusion into her personal space. But if she committed to Sawyer, this could become a daily occurrence for her.

  She didn’t know if she was ready for it. Despite being a performer, she’d always been a private person, and that trait had grown in the past two years. The idea of her life, and her relationship, on display left her uncomfortable. She wanted to talk to Sawyer about it, to unburden her reservations and have him reassure her. She needed him to tell her they were in this together, that he would guide her through the strangeness of this new world.

  But Sawyer was already burdened by the situation with his father. She felt selfish and small that she craved his attention and comfort when he was facing so much. She ached for how he suffered and wanted to console him. But he hadn’t reached out to her. He’d placed a wall around his heart, and she didn’t know how to breach it. Or if she should even try.

  There had been a time when she knew exactly what Sawyer needed without him asking. Now she was no longer certain. Maybe things had changed too much for them. Maybe he realized it, too, and that’s why he’d been so distant the last few days.

  Such a thought was so disheartening that she had to blink
back tears. Seconds later, she was pulling into the parking lot of the Moontide Inn. The party was being held in the inn’s spacious backyard. Connor and Harper’s wedding ceremony would also take place there that weekend.

  A quick scan of the other vehicles revealed that Sawyer hadn’t arrived yet. Rory felt a moment’s uncertainty. What if he didn’t show up? But no, Sawyer wouldn’t do that. Not to Gavin, who had been his best friend since high school. They’d gone through army basic and their first deployment together. Even though she knew the two of them hadn’t been in touch much over the last couple of years, Sawyer wouldn’t miss this.

  She swallowed as she realized that she was confident Sawyer wouldn’t bail on Gavin, but she couldn’t say the same about whether he would on her. She shook her head at the thought. That was only her insecurity coming into play. Sawyer had asked her to trust him, to believe in him. She owed it to him to try. He’d had a rough time of it since he’d been back. She shouldn’t project her own insecurities onto his behavior. After all, he was fighting to find his way through everything that had happened.

  But even with this internal reassurance, a small voice of doubt raised its head.

  What if Sawyer didn’t find his way through and chose to cut her out of his life as a result?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  SAWYER WAS LATE arriving to the party at the Moontide Inn. Though Erin had said it would be a small gathering, he still found himself nervous to face his friends. Perle had released their press statement, and there had been several articles about his dad’s diagnosis. He read a couple of them, but the way the media had played to the worst-case scenario had shaken him. There’d been speculations on his early retirement, and one paragraph that had embedded itself in his very soul: “It is a sad consideration that Sawyer Landry’s star might have winked out before it truly had a chance to shine.”

  He’d stopped there, not allowing himself to read any more. But the weight of those words had stayed with him, taunting him. It had sent him into a dark funk that he’d been unable to shake. Even now, as he stepped up onto the porch of the inn, he felt weighed down by a cloud of gloom. He was sad and uneasy, hesitant about facing Rory after their last three days apart and not in the mood for a party.

  He even entertained the notion of heading back home. He could always stop by and see Gavin later, when things had died down. But before he could really consider this option, the door swung open and his best friend stood before him.

  “Well, it’s about time. I thought I was going to have to hire some paparazzi to camp out on the lawn to lure you here. I didn’t think you’d show without an audience, now that you’ve gone and made yourself a household name.”

  And just like that, Sawyer’s spirits experienced a little lift.

  “Shows how much you know about us celebrities. We always arrive fashionably late.”

  Gavin threw his head back and laughed, and Sawyer’s heart warmed at the sound. Everything might have changed, his entire world upended, but there were some things—and people—he could still rely on. Gavin was one of them. Without any further ribbing, his friend drew him into a hug, slapping his back so hard that Sawyer coughed.

  “Geez, dude, how much are you bench-pressing these days? You’re like Iron Man.”

  Gavin responded with a firm punch to the arm.

  “Ow!” Sawyer declared with fake dramatics and rubbed at his bicep.

  Gavin wrapped his arm around Sawyer’s shoulder as he led him inside. “Seriously, bro, I’m glad you could make it. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” Sawyer said, and in that moment, he realized it was true. It had been too long since he’d seen Gavin. And being around his old friend might be exactly what he needed.

  He was suddenly really glad he had come. Unable to resist, he asked, “Is Rory here yet?”

  He and Gavin made their way from the front of the inn toward the back doors that led out onto the lawn area.

  “Yeah, she arrived like twenty minutes ago.” Gavin slid him a glance. “I heard you two broke up, before you moved to Nashville.”

  Sawyer didn’t know what to say to that. Though he’d been in touch with Gavin once or twice since he’d moved, he’d never elaborated on what had happened between him and Rory.

  “Yeah, that was a stupid decision on my part—one that I’m trying to fix.”

  Gavin nodded in approval. “At least you can admit you were wrong. That’s a start.” They stopped by the back door, and his friend faced him.

  Sawyer shifted uncomfortably. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but you don’t know the half of it.”

  Gavin cocked his head. “You mean the Alzheimer’s deal?”

  Sawyer’s jaw dropped. “How did you know about that?”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “I read, you know.” He pretended to puff out his chest. “I’m a man who keeps abreast of current events.”

  Sawyer arched an eyebrow. “That, or a tabloid junkie.”

  Gavin grinned. “It passes the time when I’ve got nothing better to do.” He let the smile slip. “Honestly? Erin told me. She saw it on some celebrity news site. Why didn’t you tell us?”

  He looked away. “I just found out. My parents told Chase and me not long after I arrived in town.”

  Gavin was quiet for a second, and Sawyer couldn’t look at him.

  “So, is it true what they’re saying? Your dad has this early onset Alzheimer’s, and there’s a chance you do, too?”

  He forced himself to look at his friend. “Yeah. It’s true.”

  Gavin’s expression filled with sorrow. “Man, I’m sorry. That’s...rough.”

  “Yeah.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  Sawyer hesitated, not wanting to admit how desperately he was hurting. But this was Gavin. Next to Rory, there was no one he trusted more. “Not so good.”

  Gavin placed his hands on Sawyer’s shoulders, forcing his friend to look at him. “Hey, don’t let this take you down. I watched you fight for your dreams for years, you and Rory. You spent all those hours on the road, and you played in some pretty crummy places. No way is some disease going to beat you. You’ve got this, Sawyer. You know that, right?”

  It wasn’t exactly the pep talk he needed, but it was enough to rally him. He felt some of the gloom lifting from his mood.

  “Remind me again why we haven’t talked in so long?”

  Gavin released him with an eye roll. “Beats me. Unless you’ve forgotten how to Skype. Of course, when you’re touring the world all the time and winning awards...”

  “Yeah, yeah.” This time, it was Sawyer who punched him. “Don’t make me out to be some diva. I’m not the one who freaked out when he found a scorpion in his bunk.”

  “That was not any old scorpion! That was like the Scorpion king.”

  As they stepped out the back door and toward the party, Sawyer had to admit—it felt good to laugh again.

  * * *

  RORY COULDN’T REMEMBER when she’d last felt so at ease. It was as if time had spun backward with her and Sawyer, along with Gavin and Erin, together again. They lingered long after the rest of the party had broken up and gone home. There was a copper fire pit in the backyard that they’d all gathered around, seated on wicker chairs with plush cushions. Kitt had exhausted himself following his dad around all afternoon and now he was curled up on Gavin’s lap, sleeping soundly, his tiny hand tucked into Gavin’s larger one. It was a heartwarming sight. When she stole a glance at Erin, she could see her friend must have been thinking the same thing by the way she gazed adoringly at her two guys.

  For Rory, it was enough to be holding Sawyer’s hand as he and Gavin chatted softly, catching up on all they’d missed in the last couple of years. Rory remembered many nights like this one, the four of them
hanging out—talking, laughing, dreaming together. It was both amazing and reassuring to know that they were still some of the most important people in her life, even after all this time. And even more so since Sawyer had come back.

  “...decided I’m going to get out after this deployment.”

  Rory roused herself to listen to what Gavin was saying. She watched as he shared a glance with Erin.

  “We’ve talked about it, and I think it’s time I come back here and settle into civilian life. Kitt’s getting older, and he needs me around. Erin, too. Plus, Aunt Lenora can’t keep up this pace forever. She’s pushing ninety. She’ll be needing more help in the years to come.”

  Rory felt a swell of happiness. “You’re coming home? For good?”

  Gavin nodded. “That’s the plan. Soon as this enlistment is up.”

  “Gavin, that’s grand.” Rory knew how much Erin missed her husband when he was deployed. And Gavin was right—Kitt needed his dad around, especially as he grew older. She was happy for her friends. But then, a small spark of jealousy flared within her. How blessed Erin was, to have a devoted husband like Gavin, a darling boy like Kitt and a happy future ahead of them.

  As quickly as this thought arose, she smothered it. Erin had earned the right to happiness. She’d waited a long time on Gavin, throughout his army career, raising Kitt practically on her own. They deserved a shot at a promising future.

  Gavin and Erin continued discussing their plans while Rory studied Sawyer with lowered lashes. For the first time in days, he seemed at ease. One hand held onto hers while his other held a can of Sprite. His shoulders were relaxed, and it was as if the worry that had hounded him had evaporated. She wished so desperately that it could always be like this. But then, maybe that was the point—to enjoy these moments as they came, to treasure and store them up against the hard times.

  These were the type of memories that could carry her and Sawyer through whatever dark days they might face in the future. Through his father’s illness, through wherever his career took him and through the possibility of him developing Alzheimer’s. As long as they had each other, friends like these and nights like this one, they could weather anything.