Page 32 of Falls From Grace
“I’m sorry?”
“You know you can call me if he’s ever upset and needs me there. You’re never disturbing me, if he does.”
“I know,” Brynn replied. “I will.”
“I just… I don’t want you to hold back. There’s nothing more important I’ll ever be doing that you can’t let me know, if he’s upset or worried, or-”
“Savannah.” Brynn smiled. “I know. If he’s ever upset and I can’t calm him down myself nice and quickly, I will call you… I’m not shy about it, don’t worry.”
“You mean… he hasn’t cried?” Savannah gave her a strange look.
“No.” Brynn shook her head. “I mean, he got mad when he asked for ice cream for lunch and I said no. But we ate pretend ones instead and he thought it was great. Oh, and he gave me a serious pout when it was nap time, but I said I’d nap too and he was fine.”
“Oh,” said Savannah. Tucker barrelled hard into the back of Brynn’s knee, nearly dropping her to the floor, and she quickly scooped him up and hung him upside down from her shoulder while he giggled and squealed. Then she popped him down and he ran on his way again. Savannah was gazing at her, her face soft. “You,” she said, her voice low and warm,“are wonderful.”
Brynn fought valiantly against a blush and grinned at her.
“He’s easy.” She watched as Tucker flung himself into a pile of soft teddies. “You’ve got a great kid.”
For a second, she thought Savannah was going to hug her. Thankfully, she didn’t. Brynn wasn’t quite sure how she’d react if Savannah pressed her body into her arms.
And that had been days before the scene in the band room. Now? Brynn was a straight up nervous wreck. She wasn’t sure the best way to play it. Should she be cool and professional and pull back again, making sure Savannah knew she wasn’t about to forget herself? Or should she joke it off, tease the woman about her hot song and insinuate that Noah was totally going to get it tonight? Even the thought made her feel a bit icked. Her ‘husband’ was like a brother to her.
In the end, when Savannah came in the door, the spark from earlier seemed to have been drowned in exhaustion and she seemed entirely oblivious to Brynn’s discomfort. That made it easy for Brynn to pick the third option: change nothing. She could be warm and silly and friendly and act as if no one had gazed into anyone’s eyes and sang in a sex-drenched voice and no one had ogled and drooled and made an absolute lustful fool of themselves. Everything was fine.
Back in her suite, she found herself alone. Noah had headed into town for the evening, and Brynn was at a bit of a loss. The weather outside was formidable - cold didn’t even begin to cover it - and she didn’t have anywhere near enough clothes to consider facing it. She gazed out the window, watching the sky darken as the wind tossed the bare branches of the trees.
What she should do, she knew, was to pick up her textbook and study. Since she’d started caring for Tucker, she’d found more and more reasons just to let the practice slide.
Turning back to the room she almost automatically returned to her new habit. There was a turntable in the living room of their suite and she’d borrowed stacks of records from Savannah’s collection. She was working her way through slowly… from the great classics like Patsy Cline, Loretta Lynn, Tanya Tucker and loads of Dolly, to more recent and varied styles, both contemporary country and Americana.
She had started, quite honestly, to make Savannah happy, and perhaps to prove a point. But she continued because somewhere along the way she’d gotten hooked. Brynn had always thought she’d loved music, but something here nagged at her, got under her skin, wouldn’t let her rest until she’d absorbed as much as possible. She found great comfort knowing she wasn’t the only person who’d drowned her sorrows in all the wrong ways, that she wasn’t the only one who wanted the prettiest girl in town - the one she couldn’t have.
It also made her feel closer to Savannah, knowing these were her influences, her teachers, her compatriots, her people. She loved the accents, the warm sweetness of the voices, the same accent she heard in her dreams. It felt like learning a new language and finding new friends.
The record skipped into silence and Brynn got up and turned over the vinyl. She lay on the floor as the notes began to swell and closed her eyes.
“You alive?”
Brynn squinted as a lamp suddenly clicked on, flooding the room with light. She hadn’t even noticed night falling. Noah gazed down at her, amused.
“I don’t really know how to answer that,” she confessed.
Noah shrugged out of his winter coat and chucked it across the back of the couch. He slumped down into the plump cushions and kicked off his boots.
“What’s up?” he asked. “You look… catatonic.”
Brynn returned to staring up at the ceiling. She felt certain that if she were to talk about the car crash trajectory she was on, it would somehow hasten the inevitable. She fought the instinct to keep it all inside. Trying to bury her feelings had only ever ended one way: in the need to drown them all deep in a bottle of whisky. Besides, this was Noah. Not only was he her best friend, he was the calmest, most grounded person she’d ever met.
She rolled her head to the side, just enough to meet his eyes.
“You were right,” she said glumly. “I have a massive crush on Savannah.” For a moment, they just looked at each other, Noah’s expression unreadable. Then, “Ouch! Motherfucker!” She jerked upright, her arms flying up to ward off the volley of couch cushions being lobbed at her head. “Noah! What the fuck?”
“Don’t what the fuck me, Brynn Marshall!” He ducked as she sat up and flung one back at him. “You know better than this! I fucking warned you!”
“I know! I know, okay?! Argh, stop assaulting me!” Noah faked another throw and she flinched. “I’m not going to do anything about it!” she cried. “I’m not stupid, Jesus!”
“Brynn!” Noah flung up his hands, looking wildly exasperated. “Is she… have you-”
