As they hung up, a fragile sense of peace wrapped around him.
It was a small thing, trimming a tree, cleaning a yard. But it was a start, and he couldn’t deny that taking direct action against his anger and grief was giving him back a much-needed sense of control.
Thank you, Lani.
Would he have ever had the courage to visit Renae if it hadn’t been for her?
His throat tightened. Of course he wouldn’t have. He’d have continued to avoid her, drowning as he was in the toxic brew of his guilt and shame. In her own gentle and inexorable way, Lani’d thrown him a lifeline, the same one she’d been thrown by the others who’d gone before her.
Geo glanced at his watch and took a deep breath. He could make it. He could keep this momentum going. After all, he was one of the guardians of Cade’s memory, and his mentor—his friend—deserved no less.
Kicking his bike into gear, he eased away from the curb and headed toward Coronado.
Chapter Nineteen
“I don’t think he’s coming.”
Lani glanced at the door, then at Maura, who smiled at her reassuringly. “It’s okay if he doesn’t.”
“What?” Agitation and worry sharpened Lani’s voice. “Geo needs this.”
“Well, not everyone is a candidate for group therapy,” was Maura’s surprising answer. As Lani gaped at her, she went on, “People tend to grieve how they live. How is Geo in life? Is he open with his feelings and emotions, or is he reserved, stoic, self-reliant?”
“He’s a SEAL,” Lani snapped. “What do you think?” Then she winced. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about him.”
“Of course you are.” Maura touched her shoulder. “But sharing in a group isn’t everyone’s style. It might not be Geo’s, and that’s okay.”
Frustration made Lani’s voice sharp once again. “But it’s not enough just to talk to me, is it?”
“For some people, the relationship is more important than the expertise,” Maura said gently. “He obviously trusts you, and I have a feeling that trust isn’t easily given. He also knows you’ve been where he is, that you’ll listen to him with empathy and compassion, and without judgment. Don’t underestimate the power of any of that.”
With a final pat to her shoulder, Maura moved off to greet some other new arrivals. Lani stalked out through the open door to the large patio and sucked in huge gulps of the sea air, her stomach churning.
Being a part of this group had helped turn her life around. Before it, she’d been isolated, convinced she was alone. Learning to understand herself, and her grief, had enabled her to loosen her grip on the past and embrace her new life without the self-doubt that used to dog her every step.
She wanted that for Geo. With every bit of her heart and soul, she wanted that for him, too.
“Hey.”
The husky drawl behind her made her whirl around, the sight of Geo’s tentative smile flooding her with relief. “Oh! Hey, you.”
“Guess I’m in the right place after all,” he said. “Wasn’t sure for a second. Wow.” He gazed over her shoulder at the stunning ocean view. “I totally didn’t expect this.”
“I think everyone expects the dingy church basement.” Lani studied his face, and although his cheeks looked a little pale, the warmth in his eyes was genuine. “How was your morning?”
“Good. Spent some time with Renae.”
She listened as he told her about his visit. “Going over there is something I never would’ve wanted—or had the courage—to do on my own. Thank you. It helped both of us, I think.”
He seemed to stand a little taller, as if some of the weight on his shoulders had finally been lifted.
“Oh, I’m so glad.”
After a quick glance around, Geo bent his head for a kiss, which lingered just long enough to turn her knees to jelly. “So what do we do now?”
Still quivering, she took his arm and led him back into the bright, airy room. “Now we eat.”
The laughter and conversation flowed as the fifteen members of the group helped themselves to the delicious spread of food. Geo loaded his plate sparingly and barely touched what he did take, his discomfort apparent in the set of his jaw and compressed lips.
Maura was right, Lani thought anxiously, watching him. He’s not going to open up here in front of all these strangers.
As the lunch went on, though, several people approached him to introduce themselves, like this was any old social gathering. Their friendliness, along with the beautiful setting and casual vibe, eventually seemed to put him more at ease.
“This is, uh, different,” he muttered at one point, slinging his arm over the back of her chair and leaning close. “Not what I was expecting at all.”
“Which was what? A bunch of wild-eyed people clutching tear-stained Kleenex?”
“Umm...”
She chuckled. “Sometimes it’s like that, if someone is having a particularly bad day. What’s wonderful is how we all help each other. Whatever someone might be struggling with, it’s likely that someone else has already experienced that, and maybe found a way through it. We’re here to support each other, which is all we can do.”
Blowing out a breath, he sat back again, leaving his arm where it was, his thumb idly stroking the ball of her shoulder.
After the meal wound down and everyone settled in with their desserts, Maura said, “For those who haven’t had a chance to meet him yet, this is Geo.”
Some murmured greetings, which Geo acknowledged with a lift of his hand.
“Geo’s loss is fairly recent, within the last year, so we all know he’s still trying to find his footing in a lot of ways.” Maura turned to him. “Feel free to just listen and absorb today, okay?”
Lani could see a bit more of his tension ease, and he nodded, his hand heavy and warm as he relaxed it against her upper arm. She reached over and squeezed his knee, leaving her palm splayed over his muscular thigh.
“So, my friends,” Maura was saying, “how has your story changed since we last met?”
A few people shared their victories, and ongoing struggles, before Bruce said abruptly, “I keep going over what you said about acceptance, and I don’t think there’s any way to accept that I drove my daughter off that bridge almost as surely as if I’d pushed her myself.”
As Bruce spoke, Lani couldn’t help but remember Maura’s earlier words about grieving styles. If Geo’s style was to hold it close to him, Bruce’s was to talk about it. He described his daughter Christie’s struggle with addiction, her unwillingness to go to rehab, the untold chances he’d given her to seek help before finally drawing the line in the sand and telling her that she had to move out.