Page 95 of Eleanor & Grey

I’ve been drinking, and I am sorry.

-Mr. East

Please ignore my last email.

How could I do such a thing?

For a moment in time, he’d slipped. In the first email, he had signed it as Grey, the boy I’d once known so well, the one who was hurting and struggling and letting me in just a little bit to see the shadows that lived around him.

Then, minutes later he was back to being Mr. East.

Short. Closed-off. Straightforward.

It was as if his soul was swinging back and forth in a world of muddle. Parts of him were yearning to open up, screaming for help, while the other half wanted to be buried alive.

He was fighting the biggest fight against himself, and I was almost certain he was losing.

At least we were on the same page about one thing: I, too, was confused by him. When he walked into a room, I didn’t know where to look. I didn’t know how to act. I didn’t know how to be in the same space as him without feeling some kind of way.

For a moment, I thought about responding, but then I realized I didn’t know what to say to him anymore. I knew the words I would’ve delivered to him in the past, but he wasn’t that same boy anymore, and I wasn’t that same girl.

Now I didn’t know what made him angry or what gave him comfort. I didn’t know what made his struggles harder, I didn’t know what soothed him.

So, the best thing I could do was respect his wishes.

I gave him my silence.

I ignored his emails.

On Monday, I showed up at work to find Greyson standing in Karla’s bedroom doorframe, staring at his sleeping daughter. He looked so deep in thought as his eyes studied her.

It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed him checking in on his sleeping children. Once I swore he was even counting their heartbeats.

I wondered how long he’d been looking in there that morning. I wondered how often he studied his daughters from afar.

“Hey,” I said, making him look toward me. “I know you have a flight to catch, and I wouldn’t want you to be late. Plus, the roads are pretty bad with the snow.” He was heading to New York for the next few days, and I was having my first stay at his house with the girls.

“Yes, of course.” He broke his stare with me quicker than ever and he looked back to Karla, before turning my way. “Thank you for watching them. Allison and Claire will be around if you need anything, and if there is an emergency, please don’t hesitate to call,” he told me, smoothing out his outfit.

“Of course. Have a safe trip.”

He nodded once and walked past me. When he did, his shoulder slightly brushed mine, and I swore for a split second, time froze.

“Oh, and Eleanor…um…” He cleared his throat and shifted around in his loafers. “About those emails…”

I gave him a small smile and shrugged. “What emails?”

A sigh of relief escaped him as his tensed-up shoulders relaxed. For the first time ever, he looked at me, and I mean really looked. His eyes locked with mine, and I swore I saw straight into his soul. “Thank you, Eleanor,” he said, his words coated in gratitude. He lowered his head and sniffled before giving me a faint smile. “Thank you.”

38

Eleanor

“Do you think he’ll like this one?!” Lorelai exclaimed. The past week Lorelai had been spending extra time working in her craft room, creating new masterpieces to hang up in her bedroom, but the biggest project at that time was for Greyson. Ever since Greyson’s night terror, Lorelai had been trying to think of a way to make her father feel better. She’d been spending hours and hours creating a collection of drawings of family memories to give to him, and it was hands down the most thoughtful thing I’d ever witnessed.

That Friday, Greyson arrived back from his trip. He didn’t say anything, but came in on his cell phone and went straight to his office, and closed the door.

It was that afternoon that Lorelai finally completed her artwork. We had a bit of time before Claire would be over to pick up the girls for their weekend at her house, and Lorelai was more determined than ever, dead set on finishing the drawings before she headed out.

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