Resilience Read online

After fixing them lunch, Tyler got Tommy settled on the couch once more before retreating to the office.

  He still couldn’t think of it as “his” office yet.

  He’d moved Marcus’ laptop to a chair next to the desk, his own now occupying the desktop, so he could work on his edits.

  He wanted to be home.

  Their home.

  Not here.

  Not now.

  Not any longer.

  Not without Nevvie.

  Maybe they owned this apartment, but it wasn’t “home.”

  Something had shifted slightly in his brain while in the shower with Tom. Maybe it was remembering that evening so many years ago, when they’d sat together. Maybe it was remembering tackling Tom to the floor the afternoon he’d proposed, the same afternoon Tyler had received stupendous news about the auction for his book and the advance he’d received for it that had forever changed their lives.

  The entirety of his history that truly mattered was mostly filled with Tom, and, later, Nevvie.

  Not Marcus.

  Maybe Marcus had existed as a shadowy bogeyman, whispering doubts and darkness in his ear, but Tom’s love had thoroughly driven that out of him when Tyler truly took a long, hard look at his life.

  Tom.

  And Nevvie, who’d brought a brightness to their lives they never could have dreamed of before they’d met her.

  Marcus had left him all his writings and carte blanche permission to do with them what he wanted.

  Maybe he would use some of them.

  Maybe he wouldn’t.

  But it was his own brain and words and writing that had brought him to this place, here and now, with the man watching TV on the couch and the enormously patient woman awaiting their return in Savannah.

  It was him.

  Not Marcus.

  Tyler took a deep breath and opened his laptop, ignoring Marcus’ laptop on the chair.

  He had edits he needed to finish so they could go home.

  And that’s where he truly wanted to be.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Nevvie was far from shocked when her cell phone rang a little before ten that morning.

  “Hello, Crystal.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Kinsey-Paulson. I just read your e-mail, and—”

  “Nevvie,” she said, interrupting Crystal before she could get too wound up. “Please, call me Nevvie.” She was going to make herself warm up to this girl if it killed her.

  “Oh, thank you. I’m glad you brought up a few points in your reply…”

  And they were off. Nevvie did her best to listen and not let her attention stray to the TV, which she had muted and which was still playing The Weather Channel. They were currently going over old hurricane tracks similar to Gladys’, where the storms had originated, and the strength they’d been.

  “…and I did talk this over with Mr. Paterno before calling you. He said he’d leave it up to you. And to Mr. Paulson, of course.”

  Nevvie hoped Crystal couldn’t hear her sigh over the connection. “Tyler will go along with whatever I decide to do. Right now, he’s got enough on his plate with edits and working on the next manuscript, and with what’s going on in Brussels.”

  Bless her heart, Crystal sounded scared to go there. “I’m really sorry I bothered him on the phone the other day. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I was totally in work mode and not even thinking about the emotional side of things. Was it someone he was close to?”

  Nevvie debated how to answer that in a way that wouldn’t sound bitchy. “It’s a very touchy subject. He really doesn’t want to talk about it for privacy.”

  “Oh, I totally understand. I did make a few calls this week to bookstores in Georgia, Florida, and Alabama, and…”

  …Aaaaannnnd they were off. Again. Crystal had done way more than make a few calls. She had a spreadsheet’s worth of information on sales data of Tyler’s backlist sales for the last three releases at all the stores, as well as their pre-order numbers for his latest book.

  Nevvie had to admit the girl was good. Dedicated to her job and damn sure knew her shit.

  Total props given.

  I need to be more forgiving. She’s young enough to be my daughter.

  Hell, she was just a little older than Adam, by her best guess.

  Once Nevvie could get a word in again edgewise, she offered the olive branch. “Could we set up a series of signings, no more than three days each, with time off between them, for the Southeast? Maybe even North and South Carolina?”

  Crystal sounded like she was close to an orgasm. “Of course! I can get the sales figures from key stores in those states, too! When do you think Mr. Paulson would be available to talk about booking dates? I mean, after he gets home and settles in, of course. Not, like, today or anything.”

  Nevvie did like that even though she’d told Crystal she could use her first name, that Crystal still referred to Tyler as “Mr. Paulson.”

  Respectfully.

  Despite how Nevvie had joked with Tyler while he was in New York, she had to admit she didn’t get a bad vibe from the girl, just an eager one.

  Could she blame Crystal? Her first big gig out of college, and desperate to make up for the fuck-up of not confirming the New York schedule with Tyler before she booked it all?

  Don’t spit in the face of good fortune.

  “I don’t know when he’s returning from Brussels yet, but as soon as I have an approximate timeframe, I’ll let you know when you can look at dates.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you. Did you have any questions for me that I haven’t answered?”

  “Yeah. Do you ever sleep?”

  Nevvie had totally meant it as a joke, but Crystal nervously laughed. “I really want to do well with Mr. Paulson’s account. I know Mr. Paterno has put a lot of trust in me not to screw this up, and I’m not ashamed to admit I want to do a good job so he keeps giving me big accounts. It’s difficult for a woman, especially someone my age, to break into this business.”

  Okay, Nevvie gave her brownie points for admitting that. “You’re doing fine. Just remember to breathe. We’re not exactly old fogies, but all that information in big chunks can be hard to digest sometimes.”

  “If there’s anything I can do to help you with this, please, let me know. If you want me to make social media postings, or anything like that, I can prepare a whole campaign. And I don’t even mean giving me access to his accounts,” Crystal quickly added. “I can prep files so you can copy and paste the text and graphics, and preset them to go out ahead of time. It’s really easy to do, I can walk you through it on the phone. Mixed with spontaneous posting, and it looks pretty natural and seamless and is an easy ROI for your effort.”

  Hell, Tyler wouldn’t even have social media accounts if it wasn’t for Nevvie. She’d also been the one to spearhead the revamping of his website when they’d gotten together, and she’d dragged him, kicking and screaming, into the digital age. Even if she was the one who did all his postings for him for his author accounts. “Go ahead and prep those and send them to me when you can. I don’t expect you to work on a Sunday.”

  “Oh, it’s all right. Mr. Paterno gives me very flexible working hours. I’m helping a couple of other publicists in the agency revamp their clients’ social media campaigns, so I do a lot of telecommuting.”

  “That’s good. I didn’t know Elliot was so progressive.”

  “I’ve really enjoyed working for him. I interned for him two summers while in college.”

  The old softy. “That was good of him. I didn’t even know he had interns.”

  “He didn’t. I had researched agencies in New York and contacted him. He agreed to give me unpaid internships over the summer. I used the experience as part of my research for my graduate studies and my Master’s thesis on social media influence on sales and customer reach in the publishing industry. I have a marketing major.”

  “Really?” Now Nevvie had even more respect for the girl. A go-getter who basically created her
own job? That took a special kind of tenacity and talent, especially in an unforgiving city like New York, and in that profession, to boot. “That’s very admirable.”

  “Thank you. I applied to a couple of agencies, but Mr. Paterno was my first choice.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, in addition to Mr. Paulson, he represents…” And Nevvie ended up tuning out again several minutes later.

  Note to self, don’t ask her questions if you don’t want long-ass answers.

  When Crystal took a breath, Nevvie pounced. “How about we pick this up again tomorrow? I have some family stuff to do today. When you get a chance—doesn’t have to be today, or even tomorrow—feel free to send me those files.”

  Although Nevvie totally expected to see the files within an hour or less. Crystal likely had them already prepared. “And written instructions or advice on how to implement them. Shoot me a text message to this phone number tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll go from there about setting up our next phone conversation. I don’t know what my afternoon schedule will be like tomorrow. It might not be until Tuesday or Wednesday that we can actually talk.”

  “I totally understand, Nevvie. And thank you again for taking time today to talk to me. I really appreciate it!”

  Not only was she eager, she was polite. Nevvie couldn’t help it—she found herself liking the girl. Crystal had opportunities she herself hadn’t had at her age. “Thank you for all the hard work you’re putting into this. I’ll digest the bulk of it and feed it to Ty in little bits that he can process. Once he’s in a writing mode, it’s best not to try to get him to focus on anything other than his current manuscript.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you again.”

  Once she ended the call, Nevvie hit the button on the remote to unmute the TV and stared at it. The meteorologist was now looking altogether too happy at the prospect of a US landfall for Hurricane Gladys.

  I fucking hate hurricanes.

  * * * *

  Mikey was done playing musical cars with the garage and the parking situation by the time Adam had finished eating breakfast over at Andrew’s and tested his whole-house genny. He returned home smiling.

  “I really like Colin,” he told Nevvie before heading out back to take a look at their genny.

  “How’s Grandpa seem?”

  “Happy. Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.”

  The boys even worked together, without Nevvie asking, to pick up the yard and lanai, moving all the outside furniture, planters, and moveable decor from the yard and lanai into the garage and making sure there wasn’t anything left loose outside. Willow finally wandered downstairs before noon.

  “You stayed up late watching Netflix on your phone, didn’t you?” Nevvie asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.” She stood in front of the open fridge, staring inside it as if the food would jump into her hands.

  “Can you pick something or shut the fridge, please?”

  “Sorry.” Willow removed sandwich fixings and closed it.

  They tried to structure the weekends so that Sundays meant the kids could chill. Usually a family day, but also a sleep-in-late kind of day. They didn’t want to run them ragged on their days off. If chores were done, and there was nothing pressing—like prepping for a hurricane—Nevvie liked to leave them alone as much as possible.

  Typically, Zoey hadn’t emerged from her room yet. She was the latest sleeper of all, and it wasn’t uncommon for them to have to wake her up late on a Sunday afternoon if they were planning on going to do something as a family.

  I’ll let the sleeping monster stay asleep. Nevvie wasn’t looking forward to picking at whatever had happened last night. If it was something serious, she knew Zoey would eventually bring it up in her own way.

  But if she’d been rude to Steven, that was a problem. Not just because Steven’s grandfather stood a good chance of becoming a permanent member of their family, but because Nevvie didn’t want Zoey ending up a bitch like her Aunt Emily and alienating not only other people, but her own family members.

  “What’s the time difference between here and Brussels?” Willow asked.

  “Six hours. I’d text Poppa, if I were you. Daddy’s working on edits and is in one of his all-nighter modes.”

  “Okay, thanks. I’ll do that.” After she finished her sandwich—and cleaned up after herself without being reminded—she returned to her room, leaving the door open. A few minutes later, Nevvie heard her talking to someone and assumed she was chatting with Tommy.

  Good.

  The girls had hit that in-between age where they wanted to be treated like adults one minute, and the next they wanted to curl up in their daddies’ laps and snuggle like they did when they were little. Tyler did his best to make time for them when he was home, but occasions like this, his absence couldn’t be helped. It meant Tommy was naturally the dad who ended up spending more time with them, or doing things for them, especially since he was the more “Mr. Fix-it” of the two men. Especially with Zoey.

  The boys finished their outside chores by one, and still Zoey hadn’t made an appearance. Neither had Nevvie heard her get up to use the bathroom. She was debating on whether or not to go up and check on her when Mikey sidetracked her.

  “Do we need to go over to Grandpa’s and put stuff away over there, too?”

  “Good point. Let me ask Aunt Karen.” She texted her, and five minutes later the three of them were heading back to Andrew’s.

  It was weird not calling it “Peggy and Andrew’s” anymore.

  She shoved that thought out of her head as Andrew and Colin emerged from the house when they drove up.

  “Remember, guys,” she said to her sons, “be chill around Colin. Make him feel welcomed. No playful teasing or anything.”

  Mikey shot her a disgusted look from the backseat. “Mom. We’re not stupid. We won’t do anything to tank this for Grandpa.”

  “Yeah,” Adam echoed, “and you using the word ‘chill’ is kind of the exact opposite of what it means.”

  Her sons climbed out, leaving her sitting there and feeling like the mommiest of moms.

  When did I get old?

  With Bill and Karen helping, it didn’t take long to get Andrew’s house ready in case Gladys did make landfall. He also had automatic roll-down shutters he could take care of himself closer to the storm’s arrival.

  When Adam found out Colin not only had manual shutters, but that he would need help prepping his house, he and Mikey volunteered to go over to Colin’s then, with him and Andrew, to get things ready.

  Nevvie stood on the porch with Karen, watching as Mikey and Adam took her car and followed Colin and Andrew.

  “So? What do you think?” Nevvie asked.

  Karen grinned. “I think that man’s going to be married to Dad by the end of the year. I’d bet a twenty on it.” Her smile faded. “At least, I hope I’m right. I get the feeling Colin’s daughter and two sons are homophobic assholes.”

  “Well, we’ve got more than enough love to go around and bring him in. It’s nice seeing Dad look happy for a change.”

  “Word,” Karen agreed.

  The women fist-bumped.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Sunday night, Tommy lay stretched out in bed and listened to the sound of Tyler’s fingers on his laptop keyboard in the office next door. Tyler had put in ear buds and was listening to music as he worked, deep in his edits and trying to get them finished. Tommy had seen them when he’d gone in to kiss Tyler good-night.

  Tom had finally told Tyler about the storms, but emphasized to Tyler that everything was fine at home. Nevvie and the boys had already completed the necessary preparations with the houses, and it wasn’t a reason for him to rush things on his end.

  Still, Tom could sense the tension in his guy.

  His phone vibrated with a text from Nevvie.

  How goes it?

  Knowing Tyler couldn’t hear him with his music playing, Tom opted to call her back
. “It goes. How’s everything there?”

  “I need to go shopping for tuna fish and Pop Tarts, but other than moody teenaged girls, everything’s fine.”

  “So, in other words, a normal Sunday at our house?”

  She laughed. “Pretty much, yeah.” Her tone turned serious. “Remind Evil Genius he can’t let the quality of his work slip just because he’s anxious about us. Adam left a few minutes ago to head back to school. He and Mikey kicked butt today. They even helped Colin. Got his house buttoned up and ready, just in case. I think his neighbors think he’s crazy, but he’s ready.”

  “Who?”

  “Colin. Dad’s boyfriend.”

  “Ooh. Are we going there already?”

  “Well, not to his face. Not yet. But it’s only a matter of time. Adam and Mikey really like him, and Karen bet me a twenty they’re married by the end of the year.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. I think you’ll like him. Nice guy. His son’s on the team with Mikey, Steven Jardine.”

  “Oh, yeah. I know that kid.” He winced as he shifted position and his bad leg protested the disruption. “How’d the party go last night?”

  “They had a good time. Well, Zoey apparently got her bubble burst about a guy she liked, but Willow and Mikey had warned her the kid was a jerk. Other than that, they came home safe and sound well before curfew, and stone-cold sober. So…there.”

  He chuckled. “You were right, baby girl. I just hate thinking of the twins being dating age.”

  “Dating? Forget dating. It’s the driving that’s going to turn me grey.”

  “To be fair, Willow’s not a bad driver.”

  “I don’t care. You get driving instructor duty. I won’t let them drive my car with me in it. That last time freaked me out.”

  “We could make Adam do it.”

  “He’s not home enough.”

  “And your point is…”

  “Ah. You’re sneaky.”

  “I can be.” He yawned. It was after eleven o’clock local time, and between a full tummy and the pain pill he’d taken before lying down, he was ready to sleep. “Sorry, baby girl, I think I’m turning into a pumpkin.”