Page 5 of Falls From Grace
Brynn flushed.
“Nothing. Just a whim,” she hedged. Noah sat on the end of the bed and cocked his head.
“What kind of whim makes you pack twelve pounds of medical text on a plane?”
“I don’t know… I just imagined brushing up on my knowledge again, that’s all,” she minimized.
“For fun?” Noah looked incredulous. Then he looked shocked. “Brynn, are you thinking about going back?”
“I don’t know!” she huffed defensively. Noah was looking at her like she’d casually suggested a cosmetic limb amputation. He stayed silent, waiting. Damnit, that interrogation technique always worked. “Maybe,” she admitted. “I just… what the hell else am I doing with my life, you know?”
“Med school nearly killed you,” he said flatly, as if she needed reminding. “Find something else! There’re all kinds of things you could do if you’re done hauling people out of the ocean. Being a doctor isn’t the be all and end all.”
“I’m sorry, have you met my parents?” Noah had, in fact, met her parents. Her mother was an eminent cardiothoracic surgeon and her father the head of neurology at Stanford. “Or my siblings?” Her big sister Anna was a pediatrician, while their younger brother Stephen was completing his training as an emergency room physician. “Jesus, or my grandmother, for that matter?” Her Grandma Thea was a legendary infectious diseases specialist and the family matriarch. Being in medicine in the Marshall family was more than an expectation; it was assumed to be the rule.
“Fair point. Your family is legitimately crazy though.” Noah shook his head. “Remember when I’d just gotten my big record deal and your ma told me I should consider turning it down to go back to college instead? I think even the idea of an Asian guy without a degree gave her actual heart palpitations,” he snorted. “They’re very narrow. Plus, you’re a grown adult, Brynn; you don’t have to do what they tell you anymore.”
“I know that!” she exhaled sharply. “But it still sucks being the family letdown. And outside of that…” to her extreme annoyance she was suddenly on the verge of tears. “I’m feeling a little lost right now and you mocking me about it isn’t exactly helping.”
“Hey!” Noah leapt off the bed and before she knew it, she was wrapped up in a tight bear hug. “I’m not mocking you. Jeez, tiger, I got you.” She sniffed and wiped her tears with a handful of his t-shirt. “That better not be snot.” He patted her on her back, making her laugh-cry. Great. Hysteria. He pulled back, holding her shoulders and looking her in the eye. “Brynn,” he declared. “You’re a goddamned rockstar. You’re going to find your thing and when you do, you’ll be unstoppable.”
“Alright coach.” She batted his hands away, but she couldn’t stop her grateful smile. “I’m good, you pepped me. Is it time for those drinks yet? I’m dying for half a bottle of good whisky. I’m kidding,” she added, throwing her hands up at his look. She was kidding, but she also wasn’t lying. Rock bottom, as always, just over the horizon if you tried.
Chapter Three
By the time she and Noah prepared to head downstairs for happy hour, Brynn was feeling better. She’d showered off the long day of travel in the insanely wonderful bathroom under a showerhead the size of a dinner plate, and changed into something warmer. She looked at her freshly washed reflection in the full-sized mirror and shrugged. Her long dark hair was sleek and fragrant after a dose of the luxury shampoo she’d found waiting on the shelf, and the cold climate couldn’t repress her California glow. She knew that her best skinny jeans paired with a red plaid button-up with the sleeves rolled to her elbow wasn’t exactly dressed up, but she figured gay-woman and indie-music-wife weren’t too distant from each other. Besides, Savannah herself had seemed pretty casual.
She walked back into the bedroom and immediately started laughing. Noah looked back at her, dressed in skinny jeans and a red plaid shirt.
“Jesus,” he said. “We’ve been married five minutes and we’re already merged into twins.”
“It’s because we’re lesbians,” she sighed. “Alright, you have to change.”
“Why me? This is my favorite shirt!”
“You brought twenty shirts. I only have, like, three of them.”
“Ugh.” He slouched back to their shared walk-in closet and came back out in a V-neck long-sleeved t-shirt that was somehow both loose and flattering to his long, lean frame. “Better?”
“Yeah, you look very Men’s Health magazine,” she told him. “I’m definitely going to steal that from you.”
“Wow, marriage is awesome, I can see why my mom is always at me about it,” Noah grumbled as they headed out the door.
When they entered the living room, Brynn found herself almost aggravated by how beautiful it was. The tail end of a blazing red sunset still lit the sky beyond the glass wall and the darkening interior was lit by the warm glow of the fire and several extremely tasteful copper lamps. To her surprise, Savannah was already present, tinkering quietly at the beautiful piano in the corner, her golden hair in loose waves down her back. The music wasn’t familiar - it felt improvised - and for a moment Brynn found herself wishing they didn’t have to disturb her so she wouldn’t stop playing. Chester, however, popped up out of his armchair where he’d been furiously typing on his phone.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lyman!” he greeted them cheerily. “I trust your accommodation is sufficient?”
“It’s amazing, thank you,” Noah told him. “And please, it’s Noah and Brynn.”
“You won’t change him,” came the voice from the piano. Savannah had stopped playing and swung around on the seat to look at them. “He’s old-fashioned. It took him eight years to call me by my first name.”
Now that she was finally talking, Savannah had a soft southern drawl, the aural equivalent of melted toffee, the warmth of which seemed at odds with her stillness. Her tone was dry and it was difficult to tell if she was teasing Chester or instructing them on expected cultural standards. “I’m sorry I had to rush off earlier,” she added. Brynn wondered if Chester had prompted the apology. “I’m so grateful to you for coming; I know you’re a long way from home.”
“Are you serious?” Noah was bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet with the air of an excited child. “I’d have flown to the Arctic to write with you. I’m so honored.”
His genuine enthusiasm broke through something in the air and Savannah smiled. The smile transformed her face entirely and Brynn caught a glimpse of the intense charm and charisma routine to a famous person. She could imagine that face on album covers and stadium stages, microphone in hand, crowds adoring her. Hell, she’d be half-tempted to buy a poster of that face herself.
“I’m looking forward to it.” That drawl again, pure whisky and smoky mountains. Savannah’s eyes - dark gray in this light - sought out Brynn now. “Mrs. Lyman, I hope you won’t get too bored while you’re here. It’s not LA, but I think it has its own charms.”
