Page 90 of Eleanor & Grey
The sadness that dripped from his words was heart-wrenching. “No. That’s not what I’m saying. You just have so much on your plate. I don’t think I could do half of what you do, especially with everything going on. You’re doing all the right things for your children. They are involved in activities, they are staying busy, they are going to grief counselors, but you have to do something for you too. Do you talk to anyone?”
“No. I’m fine.”
He lied straight to my face, as if it were the easiest thingin the world. Maybe somewhere deep inside of him he truly believed that lie too, but there was nothing about Greyson that was fine. He was living with an internal flame that was setting his soul on fire, yet he was doing nothing about it at all.
Maybe because he didn’t know how to deal with it.
Or perhaps he thought he deserved to burn.
“It’s OK to get help,” I promised him. “You taught me that when I was younger. You were the person who helped me. Let me help you, Greyson.”
He shook his head. “You just get tired of it, you know?”
“Tired of what?”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as he brushed his hand against his beard, and he softly said, “Everything.”
“Greyson—” I started, but he shook his head.
“Good evening, Eleanor.” He gestured toward the door. It was clear our conversation had gone on for too long.
I nodded in understanding and took a big step away from him with chills racing down my spine. “Good night.”
36Eleanor
“So what episode are we on with the distant lovers?” Shay asked as we sat down on the couch for our weekly reality show binge. “How are things going with our Greyson?”
“There is nothing about Greyson and me that is a reality show.”
“Right, uh-huh, so we’re still on episode two: ‘Denying the Love.’ Gah, this is so exciting! I cannot wait, because this means the ‘Slow Burn Friendship’ episode is coming up soon! I cannot wait for you two to accidentally become friends again.”
“Are you drunk?” I laughed. “You’ve only had one glass of wine, so I’m guessing you’re not drunk, right?”
“No, I just know these things. As a writer, you learn about story structure, and you and Greyson are the classic rom-com. It’s like you’re Meg Ryan, he’s Billy Crystal, and I’m Nora Ephron.”
“I really don’t get that reference.”
Her eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t get the reference? Ellie, it’sWhen Harry Met Sally, only one of the best romantic comedies of all time.”
“Oh, I’ve never seen it.”
She jumped back, stunned. “What is the matter with you?”
I laughed. “OK, so if he’s the hero in the movie and I’m the heroine, who’s Nora Ephron? The quirky best friend?”
Shay looked at me as if I’d just skinned a puppy alive. She held up her hand and pointed to the door. “Get the hell out of my apartment.”
“What?”
“I mean it. Get the hell out of my apartment. Nora Ephron, God rest her soul, was only one of the greatest writers of romantic comedies to ever grace this planet.You’ve Got Mail,When Harry Met Sally,Sleepless-in-Freaking-Seattle, Ellie! Come on! I mean, I love you, but sometimes I worry about your intelligence when you say things like this.”
I laughed. “Sorry, but not everyone’s a movie buff like you, Shay.”
“I’m just saying, she was a legend.”
“So did you just compare yourself to a legend?”
She smirked and shrugged her shoulders. “If the shoe fits...” She hopped off the couch and headed to the kitchen and tossed a package of popcorn into the microwave. “Back to the main topic for tonight: you and Greyson.”
