My heart pounds through my chest as she takes the stage. People around me whisper their praises of her, this woman I love. Shit. I love her. I’m trying not to—someone shouldn’t be in love when their whole family is dead. But, it’s her. It’s November. I was breathless the first time I ever saw her, but seeing her now fills me with more life than I’ve had in months.
“Thank you, Dex.” Her voice. God, her voice...“I actually have something really personal to share with you tonight. I’ve worked on it for a long time. My friends were supposed to be here to support me, but, they bailed last-minute, so, here goes ...” She laughs into the mic, and I think I’m about to come apart at the seams.
I shift on my stool, contemplating my escape. I don’t think I’m ready for this, to watch her sing when we haven’t even spoken in three months. Then, she grabs her guitar. I choke on my beer a little when I see she’s wearing the leather cuff—the one Rae got me for my birthday a few years ago—that I left at her apartment the day after she let my drunk ass sleep it off at her house.
My feet anchor into the foot rail beneath the bar as she tunes the guitar and her voice. The world around me disappears as she starts singing. Her tone is full—full of soul, full of life, full of her. She’s back.
“Sit me down, tell me no, sweep the pieces as I go
Turn up lost, that’s where I was, fighting for you
when I was gone ...
I never left, yeah, I thought it through
My heart has built a room for two ...”
Goosebumps take over the damp skin on the back of my neck as I watch her sing through our sordid history. She’s breathtaking, exuding confidence as her fingers glide effortlessly across the guitar. I’m so fucking proud of her. I want to run up on stage and sweep her off her feet, like she deserves. Instead, I jump off the stool and breeze back through the door I came in.
I’m out of breath when I reach my car, ten feet from the door. She still loves me. Thank God, she still loves me. My phone rings. It’s Josh.
“Hey man, what’s up?” I try to sound composed.
“You.” It’s Monica.
Sweet hell, can Josh not keep a secret to save his life?
“Uh, hi Mon.”
“Yeah, whatever,” she laughs. Phew. “Did you see her play yet?”
“She’s on right now.”
“What the hell are you doing talking to me?”
“I left.”
“Men,” she scoffs.
My heart’s racing faster. “Listen, Monica, please don’t—”
“Oh get ahold of yourself, Cavanaugh, I’m not going to say anything to her.” She sounds as if she’s scolding a child.
“Then why’d you call me?”
Her tone lightens dramatically. “To hear you. You sound good—are you?”
“I will be.”
She sighs. Heavy and long. “All right, Bo. Here’s my thought ...”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ember
Cold weather has set up its temporary residence on the East Coast. I’m contemplating a trip to see my parents in San Diego after Josh and Monica’s wedding next week. I can’t believe they’re still there; this is officially the longest they’ve stayed in one place since I was in high school. Apparently, the group has decided to go by the nickname I gave them in my childhood and are affectionately calling themselves “The Six” for their next album. Lord, help me, their next album. Well, the anonymity was fun while it lasted.
It’s clear that this will be my last outdoor yoga session for a while, as my shivering nearly knocks me out of my headstand. A car door slamming in the parking lot finishes the job—I crumble without grace to the ground. I sit, frozen, as I study the form walking toward me.
“Regan?” I whisper to myself. I doubt if the waves even hear me.
His copper hair hangs carelessly in front of his face. He awkwardly shoves his hands in the pockets of his skinny jeans as he crosses onto the sand.
“Regan!” I yell as I stand, startling two seagulls who squawked during my whole session. Serves them right.
“Hey.” His quirky half-smile fills my heart and I race toward him, crashing into him with all my force. “Jesus, work out much?” He teases softly, hugging me back.
“What the hell are you doing here? Here.” I gesture to the beach around me.
“Monica told me where I could find you. My flight got in last night-”
I interrupt, “It’s cold as hell out here. Come back to my place and we’ll talk.
*
“You ditched your cell phone,” I comment to Regan as I pour his coffee.
“Yeah, I just needed to disappear for a while.”
I join him on the couch and pass him his cup. “Mission accomplished. I was worried about you, you know.”
“I’m sorry ...” he trails off as he shakes his head. I wasn’t looking for an apology, and there’s really nothing more he can say.
“How’ve you been, anyway?”
Regan settles back into the couch and tells me about the last almost four months of his life. After returning to Ireland, he picked up some summer courses to fill his time and his mind. He’s kept minimal contact with C.J. but had RSVP’d that he’d go to Josh and Monica’s wedding. He misses everyone, he says.
Regan sets his coffee down and looks me square in the eye. “I’m taking a drive up to Concord tomorrow. Do you want to ride with me?”
I spit some of my coffee out. “Uh, no thanks.”
He furrows his brow as I speed into the kitchen to refresh my coffee.