Page 102 of Saving Graces
Three months later, Savannah flew to Vermont with Coral and the rest of her band. Only this time, Noah Lyman was invited.
Rosalie ever so slowly got lonely. Savannah was away for the whole of fall and into winter and their phone conversations - which were few and far between - were frustratingly vague. Noah was wonderful, they were writing, Savannah was writing, and the music was spectacular, that was all she’d had to say. She got the impression there was something she wasn’t telling her but she didn’t know what.
Coral was off on tour with another side project. Her other friends were there, but busy with spouses, kids, families, big full lives. Rosalie felt like her wheels were stuck, spinning in the dirt
She met Olivia at a fundraiser, and they dated for three months. But the longer they dated, the more Olivia liked her, the more Rosalie noticed the cracks and it all fizzled into nothing.
“There’s something wrong with you,” Olivia said, her face pink with rejection when Rosalie called it off. “No one should only be in it for the chase.”
Rosalie took the hit. She was starting to feel like she deserved it. There was a trail of women behind Olivia a mile long, all with hurt on their faces.
Christmas came and went. Rosalie refused to go home for it; Thanksgiving with her parents had been more than enough. To her immense surprise, her father showed up at the center, joining her and the kids for lunch. She watched him like a hawk, but he was gentle and polite with her little crew of queer and trans teens. None of them quite knew what to make of this quiet, older, conservative white man who didn’t seem to know what to say but was trying to be there anyway.
Afterwards hugged Rosalie tight, his eyes wet.
“I should have been better,” he said. “I’ll regret it forever. Rachel would be so proud of you.”
Rosalie cried every time she thought of his words for weeks.
She missed Rachel like a limb, especially around the holidays. There wasn’t a Christmas or Thanksgiving that went by that she didn’t stare at the empty chair at the table and imagine Rachel there, rolling her eyes at their mom and telling Rosalie her sweater was the wrong shape and the wrong color, before the two of them could escape back out into the world and debrief together. She tried to imagine the adult version of the two of them. Would they have been friends? Would the center have existed without her loss, and if it did, would Rachel have been involved? Rosalie dreamed of her older sister doling out love, advice, and fashion critiques, a big sister to all the kids who needed her more than anything and she ached and ached and ached.
In the new year Savannah called, her voice cracking as the truth tumbled out of her.
“I did something stupid,” she wept.
And that was how Rosalie heard the name Brynn Marshall for the first time. She hated the woman. Savannah was barely back on her feet, barely recovering her equilibrium, just starting to write music again and she’d fallen right in the path of yet another heartbreaker.
But slowly, over the year that followed, another story began to emerge. Savannah had not been knocked off her feet after all. She stood firmly on the ground, and she began to grow. And grow. She released her first album free of Cole and it sold into the stratosphere. Rosalie cried when she heard her sing again. And the songs? Oh god, how Savannah’s album left Twice Struck in the dust.
Savannah toured almost instantly, her fame doubling and tripling now she’d left country music. As for Brynn, she was somehow there and not there, her stunning voice on Savannah’s lead single, her influence on the tracks, her love marking the lyrics, and the longing clear on Savannah’s face the mere two times Rosalie got to see her over that massive, life-shifting year.
Also, Brynn’s album? Rosalie developed a slight crush on her herself. Brynn was, perhaps, the one other person on the planet who seemed to love Savannah at least as much as Rosalie did, and then a whole twelve songs more. And those songs? They were accountable.
Rosalie knew it was going to happen long before Savannah did.
When Rosalie finally saw Savannah again, she was glowing. Her eyes sparkled, her chin was high, happiness flowing steadily through her veins like gold. She looked strong and secure like she’d finally hit the peak of her power and was going to damn well stay there. Rosalie took one look at her and found herself laughing.
“Now that is how someone who is in love is supposed to look,” she told her.
When she finally got to meet Brynn, she felt intensely nervous. Cole had driven such a wedge between her and Savannah and he’d been suspicious of their closeness from the start. Also, she was, embarrassingly, a little starstruck this time around. Brynn’s debut album full of love for Savannah Grace had become one of Rosalie’s favorite things of all time. Now she was moving to Nashville and Rosalie invited the new couple over for dinner. She paced around the house frenetically moving things around like she was an anxious about-to-be-mother-in-law.
She heard the car door slam as Savannah’s driver dropped them off. Rosalie went out to greet them, gaze snagging on Savannah first. She was at the tail end of a laugh, her blue eyes shining in the late afternoon sun. Behind her stood Brynn, dark, tall and gorgeous with Tucker clinging to her back like a monkey. She met Rosalie’s eyes and grinned from ear to ear, tipping Tucker upside down and setting him on the ground. Then Brynn hugged Rosalie so tight it was like being greeted by long-lost family.
“Hi!” Brynn said as she let her go.
“Hi!” Rosalie replied, surprised by her warmth.
Savannah led them all into the house like it was her own, talking to them both as if they’d all three been close for years.
About half an hour in she found herself briefly alone with Brynn in the back yard. Brynn turned to her instantly.
“Savannah’s loved you her whole life,” she said. Rosalie nodded, unsure if this was the moment Brynn was going to stake her ownership. “Is it weird that I love you for that?” she said instead.
“It’s a little creepy,” Rosalie replied and Brynn laughed. Then her face went serious.
“There’s so much pain,” Brynn said, “in the things she’s told me about her life. And yet in every dark moment, there’s been love, because of you.” Rosalie felt a lump grow in her throat. “I think you’re the whole reason she is who she is now.”
“I am the wind beneath her wings,” she agreed, trying to hide how her eyes had just gotten wet.
