“Here it is. Blue Seed Studios. Are you ready for this?” I say with a deep breath as Bo wraps his arm around my shoulders.
We’ve been in San Diego for a little more than a week, and have spent a lot of time with my parents and plenty of time alone. Despite their offer to have us stay with them and Willow’s family, we opted for our own oceanfront condo. Waking up on the warm ocean everyday is something a girl could get used to. The constant sun’s not bad, either.
“Let’s go, Chicken.” He holds the door open.
The smell of incense sends us back about forty years as we wander down the long hall toward the single studio. A larger stage and bar-looking area sits in the center of the building, with small practice rooms along either side of the hallway. In the back, we reach the studio, where all six original band members are jamming.
“November Blue! Good Lord, Raven and Ashby, you didn’t tell me you grew a super model!” Solstice, Willow’s mom, races to me and hugs me with might. “And, this must be Bo Cavanaugh. Nice to meet you, I’m Solstice Shaw.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. This is a great studio you’ve got here.” Bo smiles as he looks around.
“Oh please,” my dad interjects teasingly, “we know you’ve got a state-of-the-art set up in Concord. We’re just waiting for the invite.”
“Dad!” I shout, mortified.
“It’s OK, Ember, your dad and I talked about it last night. I’d love to fly them out to record in the studio.” Oh, so he and my dad were chatting when I wasn’t around...special.
Michael, Willow’s dad, pipes up. “Raven and Ashby tell us you two came up with a piano version of “San Diego.” Care to share it with us?”
“Oh, did they? I didn’t ...” My ears burn in embarrassment. Bo. Bo told them. I chuckle, wondering which parts of that night he included in the story. “Oh, what the hell.” San Diego is breathing fresh life into me, a life with less inhibition.
Bo walks over to the piano and pats the bench next to him. All seven sets of eyes, Willow’s included, are on us as he starts playing and I sing:
“The San Diego sun setting in your eyes
The taste of salt and sweet summertime ...”
Bo joins in at the right spot and I watch, from the corner of my eye, my parents and their best friends wiping tears from their eyes as we sing their song at the top of our lungs. When it’s over, the shocked-silence lasts a nanosecond before deafening applause takes over. A second later, we’re accosted by a pile of hippie hugs.
“November Blue! That was amazing!” My mom squeezes both Bo and I at the same time.
“Will you two consider recording some tracks with us?” Natalie, the third female in The Six, casts a sudden silence over the room.
I swallow hard. “What? Are you serious?”
“Of course they’re serious, Ember,” Willow squeals. “You two are friggin gold! What do you say?”
“Just let them think about it for a while, would you?” Michael elbows Willow, who shrugs. She winks a hazel eye at me before she drops the subject.
I look at Bo, who’s grinning like a schoolboy, biting his lip as he stares at the piano keys. He loves this as much as I do.
After sitting back on the couches for a while, listening to The Six play and record, I walk outside for some fresh air and sunshine. My mom follows closely behind me.
She rests her hand between my shoulder blades. “You’re happy, Ember.”
“Of course I am, Mom. I was just in a room with my favorite people on the planet.” I rest my head on her shoulder.
“You look amazing, too. You’ve been doing yoga again?”
“Yeah, for the last few months...since Rae died, actually.”
My mom pulls me into a hug. “Bo is absolutely wonderful. Watching him look at you reminds me of when I first met your father. He had that same look on his face.”
“He still does, Mom. Dad loves you so much it’s not even embarrassing to watch.”
“You have that, too, Honey. Hold on to it. For dear life.”
*
“You were quiet during dinner,” Bo grabs my hand as we walk down the beach at sunset.
“Just thinking,” I sigh.
“Anything you want to talk about?”
I find a quiet spot and sit in the sand facing the horizon.
“I think I want to leave The Hope Foundation.”
“Really?” He sounds mildly surprised.
“Yeah. I mean, I can do freelance grant writing. I could still help where Hope needed me, but I’d like to work with DROP again. To be honest, David’s been hounding me about it since I left.” I chuckle.
“He is relentless, if nothing else.” Bo shifts so his knees are bent and he’s leaning back on his hands.
“It would also free up some time to do...other things, I guess ...” My heart races as I prepare what I’m about to say.
Bo sits back up. “What’s going on, Ember?” He takes my hand, which is incredibly hot under my nerves. He kisses it regardless.
“I want to do it.”
“Do what?”