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Placing my brave little daughter into the pontoon boat with its small outboard motor, a blustery wind played into the earlier conversation and Layla seemed to cling to this, observing it as the reason why she could still tell her mommy was close by.
Without disagreeing, I pulled the cord and started the engine. Steering the rudder, I took us to the island in less than two minutes flat.
Although my heart lay heavy inside my chest, its beat was slow and deliberate as I lifted Layla out of the boat and placed her feet on the soft earth. I didn’t visit the island often, but the few times I had ventured there before had brought about a calm feeling.
After I had spent a short time explaining about her mother’s grave, Layla and I stood and said a short prayer, our heads bowed. I then asked her to think about the things she wanted to say.
Watching her little eyes lift in thought, I waited patiently for her to come up with something.
“Um, hello, Mom. It’s pretty here,” she said, glancing around at her lush green surroundings. “I want to tell you something. You going away made my daddy very sad. Harper, that’s my nanny, she said that’s what made Daddy grumpy.”
Her honesty stunned me, and I stood wondering if that’s how she saw me. When I asked if she had anything else to say, she thought for a moment then shrugged when nothing was forthcoming.
“Nope, I’m good. I just thought she should know about you being sad.”
Pain shot through my body as her words tugged at my heartstrings, and I guided her away from her mom’s final place and lead her back to the boat in silence. Starting the engine, we slowly made distance from the island, and with every foot closer toward the meadow, my heart hurt a little less.
Deciding to take Layla to visit Grace’s grave so young had been a bit of a gamble, but my precious little daughter had taken the painful short journey in her stride. My intention had been to give our daughter partial closure by taking her over to Grace’s resting place, and to my surprise, she weathered the experience well. It wasn’t as traumatic for either of us as I had expected it would be.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Three days later, everyone had gone, Layla was back at school full time, and everywhere I went Harper was always in my face. This wasn’t her intention, but with the house being quiet she appeared to be all around me.
With the tour looming in less than a month, I camped out at Dorian’s more often than not to help me keep my distance from Harper, but I also hoped it would help Layla to get used to the idea of not seeing me every day.
Obviously, the yoga had stopped because I didn’t trust myself around Harper anymore; after pushing the boundaries between us, and with a little time to reflect I wondered whether our attraction was down to lonely infatuation.
We were vastly different people: me the once laid-back rock star now broken with a head full of dark thoughts; whereas Harper was beautiful, bright, bubbly, and kindhearted. The enigma was she could also be boldly forthright and sassy and wasn’t afraid to go after what she wanted in life. That part I did relate to because I once had all those attributes myself.
By the end of January—on a superficial level anyway—it appeared as if the challenges between Harper and I, although still present, were manageable. A civil, professional relationship was reestablished between us, and we kept our distance when no one else was around.
January rolled into February and as rehearsals for the band took up a lot of my time, I wasn’t home that often in the daytime. For all my push to get back on the road, I had insisted the band rehearsals take place during the day, so that I could catch Layla on the flip side before she went to bed, a couple of nights a week, because I wanted her to know I was still there, but not to feel insecure when I didn’t come home.
Packing up to leave was the most difficult part of the whole experience because Layla wanted to help. Every T-shirt she stowed in the suitcase had a question attached: about the tour, about me, about Harper and her.
Keeping the conversation light was a struggle because I knew at some point the tears were going to flow, and when they did, I hugged her tight, told her I loved her, but reasoned firmly I needed to go to work. The way she held me broke my heart and for a long couple of minutes I struggled to let her go.
It would have been different if I hadn’t been the front man; the main man, as the band had been built around me. My bandmates had been monumentally patient with me and it had been the second time they’d had their careers put on hold.
The reality was a mixture of privilege and ugly, but I reminded myself there were many others in life that worked away from home... and for a lot less reward than I’d been given for doing my job. At least I could rest easy, knowing I had a fantastic support network of people around Layla, and my brother on my doorstep.
Angus surprised me when he called the night before I left for the tour, and although the conversation started normally enough, I sensed there was something he wanted to say. When the words between us dried up and he hadn’t, he suddenly cleared his throat and in the gruffest tone he boldly told me he thought I’d grieved long enough and to go and live my life.
“Six years is a long time to be lonely, Cole. Before now, I’ve watched from a distance. Dorian’s kept me abreast of your progress, and let me tell you, it’s been a painful journey for us, made all the worse for knowing how Grace’s death has affected you.”
I sighed, “I’m on it. Taking Layla to visit the island was a turning point for me.”
“I know this. It was the sign I had waited for, but you need to start really living again. I know it’s hard but it’s time to let Grace go. Something as profound as this will always stay with you, but you need to come to terms with it or it will destroy you. Don’t let it do that, otherwise you may as well all have died that day. Layla deserves a dad who is happy. You owe it to her as well as yourself. Most of all you owe it to Grace’s memory.”
“Angus…”
“Dorian has a letter for you. Grace gave it to me, and I have always carried it with me when we visited, but she made me promise only to give it to you when I thought you were ready to read it. I never felt the time was right until you told me you were taking Layla to the island and going back to work. Before I left I gave it to Dorian and told him to give it to you tonight because I felt if I gave it to you myself before you left it would have given you time to find something in it that stopped you from going again.
My heart raced knowing Grace had sent me a message from beyond the grave. Initially I was angry he had been judging me all this time and held back, and he was right my resolve suddenly wavered about me leaving Layla behind when the insecurity of what I was about to do washed over me.
“Gotta go, I’ll call you,” I mumbled, not trusting myself to say anything else, because I knew what would leave my mouth would be full of hate and angry words. I closed out the call and slumped slowly onto my bed. A tight knot formed in my stomach, my chest felt tight and the all too familiar feeling of loss of Grace threatened to overwhelm me again.
Fighting back the suffocating feeling, I stood and then ran down the stairs and tore out of the house. Seconds later I banged repeatedly on Dorian’s door. He opened it with a shocked look on his face, then his expression changed as he realized why I was there.
