Page 22 of To Bring You Back
John’s gaze fell on Gannon’s notebook. “Working?”
“I haven’t gotten very far.”
“It’s Saturday. Let’s enjoy it.” John opened one of the patio doors, whistled to get the dogs’ attention, and then led the way out. They walked to the overlook and back before settling on lounge chairs in the sun. As the dogs stretched out on the patio rug, John intertwined his fingers over his stomach. “Remind me why we live in LA.”
“Because we might as well. LA follows us wherever we go.”
“Does it?”
“Yeah. We’re here to work. There’s never a break with Matt or Harper.” He scrubbed his fingers through his hair. Harper had called again this morning. “She’s always in trouble but never ready to change.”
“So you have noticed that about her.”
“Of course I have. But once she hits bottom, maybe she’ll be ready.”
“To do what?”
“Come to Christ. She’s a seeker.” Maybe not all the time, but given her abusive father and the agent who took advantage of her when she first came to LA, Gannon couldn’t blame her for looking for attention in all the wrong ways. He was out to show her a better path, and for it, she called him her rock. “When God does change her, it’ll be a testimony that reaches far and wide.”
“She is seeking,” John agreed dryly, “but not God.”
They’d had this discussion before to the same result, but if anyone understood Gannon’s motives with Harper, John ought to.
Despite opposing Gannon’s move to fire Fitz, John had stuck by him. Once Fitz died, Gannon broke and confessed the whole story. John had quietly but unwaveringly represented truth, not downplaying the wrong he’d done but talking about forgiveness when Gannon was sure he’d disqualified himself from ever being usable to God. Years later, Gannon was being used—in the lives of fans, who wrote in often enough to tell him so, and in Harper’s life.
“I’m trying to be for her what you were to me, a friend who’s not easily scared off and is there to point the way when she’s ready to listen.”
“This isn’t the same.”
Gannon sighed. At least John had stuck with him through thick and thin. Gannon would pay that forward with Harper, and someday, John would understand. For now, he veered from the subject. “Seeing Adeline again has been something else.”
“Yeah.” A smile twitched John’s mouth as he pulled out his phone. After poking the screen a few times, he passed it to Gannon.
John had managed to get an arm around her and had been rewarded with a gigantic grin.
“Nice.” Gannon gave the phone back.
John snorted. “Don’t be bitter.”
Adeline deserved to be as happy as she’d looked in the picture. What he wouldn’t give to the be one who could bring out that smile.
It’d already been days since their talk in the church office, and she hadn’t reached out. He’d claimed that day that he’d said his piece, but he hadn’t. They had so much more to discuss about grace, the band, the songs he’d written about her and what to do with them. John was right that Matt could use a project to focus on, and given Gannon’s trouble writing much else lately, Awestruck needed the songs like never before.
“I gave her my number and told her I would leave her alone unless she reached out.”
“And she hasn’t.”
Which meant he needed to keep his word. This obsession with Adeline needed to stop. He was forgiven, free and clear to continue with his life, even if losing Adeline was a consequence of his sin.
Impossible regret pummeled him. He’d rather have lost a limb than her.
He’d have to draw even closer to God to cope with that.
Focusing on work would help him too.
He stood to get his guitar and paper. He could write about the lighthouse. The distant people.
Inside, the notebook lay open to the blank page, but too much history with Adeline packed the other sheets to do him any favors. He carried the notebook to the kitchen as he hunted for a replacement. The drawer next to the silverware contained a legal pad. He swapped one notebook for the other and pushed the drawer shut again.
