Page 159 of The Ampersand Effect
Grier drove on autopilot. She’d texted both Tobin and Grant to let them know what was happening. Tobin had offered to come pick her up, but Grier had declined. She craved the privacy of the drive—the winding stretch along the coastal forest—to let her grief settle in her bones and to let the solace of the familiar trees hold space for her sorrow.
She instinctively found her pendant, her fingers looping through it. It was her quiet ritual—mechanically emoting everything she’d withheld in the last week. She spoke to Norathis way, still relying on her best friend regardless of the silence she received in return.
But there was beauty in that, too—knowing that, in Nora’s now- omnipotent wisdom, Grier was tasked to decipher the silence and come to her own conclusions. Though Nora was gone, in moments like these, Grier could still imagine her affable prescience and readily allowed it to wash over her, accepting all the comfort she could get as she navigated this impending loss.
She rolled down her windows and set the car on cruise. She stuck her hand out the window, rolling it through the air currents at speed, feeling the lift of the wind and navigating through the turbulence of the earth’s thermal drafts. It was hot—Aetheridge and the surrounding region were still in a drought. But Grier let the wind whip through her hair, the heat of the sun warm her skin, and the air of the coastal forest enter her lungs and remind her that she was alive. And it would be a tragedy—an indignity to Jonah’s memory—if she wasted this moment, this life.
She parked in Tobin’s driveway and hadn’t even exited the vehicle before she saw her girlfriend walking the footpath toward her. The strength she’d gathered on her drive held when she greeted Tobin. The gentle, “Hey, Cinderella,” Tobin offered as she wrapped her in her arms only served to fortify her resolve. This loss was surmountable—sad as it was—because she had Tobin, and Tobin had her. Tobin was here, and Tobin would love her through this. If she forgot everything else about this experience, Grier would remember that.
She felt Tobin lead them inside, allowing a bit of numbness to overtake her senses. She hated that instinct—to shut out all her other senses when she was hurting—but right now, she just wanted to know Tobin was close and to let her take care of her. She didn’t want to think or do or feel. She allowed her senses to dull, and in doing so, allowed her emotions to dull with them.
“What do you need?” she heard Tobin ask calmly as she directed her to sit on the couch. Tobin placed a blanket over her legs, then squatted in front of her, tucking her in, fussing over the tiniest comforts.
Grier didn’t know what she needed. She hadn’t eaten much all week, but asking for food would mean Tobin leaving her side, and that was the very last thing she wanted.
“Just you… will—” she hesitated, the vulnerability of her request more apparent than she usually allowed, though she knew Tobin was the one person she could trust with it. “—will you just hold me? P—please?” Her eyes glistened as she fought to mute her emotions.
Tobin’s eyes softened, and a quiet smile spread across her cheeks. Grier could literally see Tobin’s love for her in the tenderness of that smile.
“There’s nothing I’d like more, Cinderella,” Tobin whispered, already untucking the edge of the blanket to create a pocket for her to slide into. She shifted her body into the corner of the couch.
Grier snuggled instinctively into the crook of Tobin’s waiting arm, resting her head on Tobin’s chest. She found refuge in the familiar rhythm of Tobin’s heartbeat, keeping her grounded in the present.
They sighed synchronically. Grier hummed with comfort as Tobin’s deft fingers began alternating between gently tugging at loose strands of hair and sinking to her scalp to stroke and massage.
“I’ve missed you,” Tobin whispered adoringly, continuing her ministrations.
Grier didn’t have words. She didn’t want to think right now. She just wanted to feel Tobin’s love through her tender touches and soft words. She craved the oblivion of numbness that camewith disconnecting from everything and everyone around her—everyone but Tobin.
She nuzzled in closer, artfully lifting her head to brush her lips against the open skin where Tobin’s neck met her shoulder, allowing her tenderness to be the only answer either of them needed.
Grier didn’t know how long they sat there like that, but eventually, her mind began drifting back to Jonah. She could feel the tension creeping determinedly back into her muscles. Tobin had taken her phone when she walked her inside, and Grier had no idea where it ended up. She honestly wasn’t certain if she wanted to immediately know when Maren’s text came through—but she realized it wouldn’t matter. Her watch would vibrate with the incoming message regardless of where her phone was.
Tobin must have sensed the shift in her, because the hand that had been stroking her hair slid down to her arm and gently squeezed her closer. Grier recognized the technique instantly—Tobin was applying compression, a biofeedback method she’d once taught her to ground herself and activate her parasympathetic system when anxious.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tobin asked gently. Grier knew she wouldn’t press—she was offering a willing ear if she needed a sounding board. She shook her head, “No…” and drew her knees closer to her chest, finding the fetal position to be a comforting and natural position during her worst periods of grief.
“Will—will you keep talking, though?” she added softly. The steady rumble of Tobin’s voice was soothing, and Grier wanted to focus on the vibrations as she fought the invasive thoughts that were reverberating in her skull.
She felt Tobin’s chest bounce with a stifled chuckle and knew it was born of affection. The sound drove her deeper into Tobin’s arms, burrowing into the security Tobin provided.
So Tobin talked. She didn’t talk about anything in particular, knowing Grier probably wouldn’t have the capacity to remember anything important—and that the point wasn’t content, but comfort. Her voice lulled Grier into a sense of quietude. It worked. She didn’t remember slipping into darkness, but when she opened her eyes, dusk had fallen around them. She was still tucked snugly against Tobin’s chest, one of her arms wrapped around her, absently stroking the length of her arm while she silently read a book.
Instead of stretching and rising—despite her body’s growing insistence—Grier burrowed deeper into Tobin’s torso. Tobin softly giggled, and soon Grier felt her body engulfed in both of Tobin’s strong arms.
“Welcome back,” Tobin said, digging through the mixtures of fabrics to uncover Grier’s face. Once she had successfully exposed her, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, sending a soft zing along Grier’s spine.
“How long was I out?” Grier asked, shifting onto her back so that her head rested in Tobin’s lap. She looked up at her, eyes still heavy with sleep.
Tobin glanced at the clock beneath the TV, the corners of her eyes tightening as she did some mental mathematics. Then she looked back down at Grier, her voice soft. “About an hour and a half.”
Grier sighed. She didn’t want to look at her watch—or find her phone, for that matter. The blissful nothingness of the past ninety minutes had been the most peace she’d had in a week. And Tobin was buffering her from a reality she wasn’t ready to return to. She wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible, knowing there was bad news on the other end of it.
Knowing that Tobin was leaving tomorrow didn’t help. They hadn’t had much time to talk about the trip, and while Grierknew it was just for work—and that Tobin would come back, come back toher, specifically—the timing couldn’t be worse.
The tears started falling, despite the numbness she thought she’d managed to contain. They came hard and fast, startling her so much that a small, gasping sob escaped her throat before she could choke it back. Through bleary eyes, she watched Tobin’s face shift— first with alarm, then into something closer to terror—before she quickly masked it.
But not quickly enough.