On our way back to the hotel we stop for ice cream cones in the park and sit at our usual table. Our little traditions mean the world to me and one of the things I love most about him is how he never forgets about them.
He’s quiet for the rest of the afternoon, and I start to worry that visiting the house wasn’t a good idea, after all. Perhaps it held too many bad memories that are now gnawing away at him. Later, over dinner in the hotel restaurant, we talk mostly about Lyric and things going on in my life, but he still seems a bit more distracted and subdued than he did earlier. I wonder if it’s an effect of the medication.
“Are you okay?” I finally ask him when we’re back in our room. “You seem quiet.”
Sitting on the bed, he bends down and pulls off his work boots while I step out of my black heels.
“Yeah… I’m just thinking about something.”
Worried, I move to stand in front of him and gently run my fingers through his hair.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask softly.
Wrapping his hands around my waist, he leans forward to kiss the spot between my breasts.
“I’m thinking about the house.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have gone in there. Did it bother you?”
“I wasn’t sure how I’d feel, but actually it didn’t bother me. I just feel bad the place has gone to hell, just sitting like that. It belonged to my grandparents, did I tell you that?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“They died before I was born, but my mother told me she grew up there. My grandfather had it built for my grandmother as a wedding gift.”
“Wow. That’s quite a gift. It’s a beautiful house.”
“It could be,” he says. “When I left the hospital, my doctor told me to ‘go home and start your new life’ and I realized I didn’t even have a home.” He pulls me down as he talks, until I’m sitting on his lap. “Reece moved out of the house in Seattle, and we were never there enough for it to feel like home, anyway. It was basically just a hub. And your place is nice but it’s kind of a reminder that I was a fuckup for so long that you and my kid had to buy a house alone. It’s weird. For the first time I want a real home.”
It’s funny that I wondered the very same thing about where he would want to go when he left the band, and then, where he would go when he left the facility. It’s something we never talked about, even when we were discussing wedding plans.
“I think I want to completely remodel the house and live there,” he says. “But I want you and Lyric and Mickey and Archie there, too. I don’t want to live there alone. I think that house has had too much loneliness.” When I don’t say something right away, he continues to talk nervously. “It’ll be like a brand-new house when it’s done, not like it is now. We could pick out everything we wanted and make it ours.”
My brain starts to twirl like a whirlwind with the unexpectedness of this conversation. I assumed he might want to keep some distance between us for a while to give himself time to think since he just got out of the hospital. I wasn’t looking forward to that, but I was prepared for it.
I definitely wasn’t prepared for him to be talking about moving in together.
“Evan….” I’m overwhelmed with all the things I want to say.
“Shit. It’s too soon, right?” He plops me down on the bed next to him before he stands and crosses the room to stare out the window. “I fucked it all up again. Us. Our trust. Everyfuckingthing. You need time to figure it all out.”
I walk over to him and hug him from behind, and he covers my hands with his over his chest.
“All those years you were waiting for me?” His voice is so low I can barely hear him. “I was waiting, too. I always wanted everything with you, I just kept tripping over myself and fucking it all up. But I want it all. I want to marry you and have another baby.”
My heart wrenches at the thought that this sweet, vulnerable side of him has been buried under all his demons for years, trying to get out and be happy.
“You didn’t fuck it all up. I think things happened the way they were supposed to happen. And in case you didn’t notice…” I turn him around to face me. “I’m right here with you, and I still want all those things with you, too.”
He palms the back of my neck and brings my mouth to his, kissing me fervently. “I don’t deserve you, Piper.”
“You do.” I stand on my tiptoes so I can look into his eyes. “I don’t need time, Evan. I’ve had more than enough of that. And I don’t need to figure anything out. I love you. I want to be with you… right now, every day, and forever.”
“What if—”
I quickly kiss him quiet. “What if you stumble? What if you need more help or different meds? What if you just need to eff my brains out sometimes? What if you just need a long hug and the sound of the rain? What if you start to feel bad again? It’s okay. I don’t need to think about it, I already know I’m going to go through anything and everything with you. There’s nothing in the world that’s going to make me walk out the door.”
“You’re sure? I could still have some bad days….”
I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. I love him and what we have—flaws and all. I always have.
“I’m positive. No matter what. I love the house, Evan. It was kind of our home for a while, wasn’t it? I’d love to bring it back to life with you and move our little family in and turn it into a real home again. And we’ll be so close to all our special places.” I smile up at him. “I feel like we’re supposed to be there.”
He nods excitedly. “God, I love you. I want that, too. So fuckin’ bad.”
“Then let’s do it. We don’t have to wait anymore.”
He lifts me up in his arms and we kiss the kind of kiss that’s made of memories, hope, and new beginnings. We know we’ll have good days and bad days and that’s okay. That’s the magic of love. It doesn’t always have to be easy or perfect or normal. It can just be two people who believe in each other enough to be there for all the tomorrows.
Epilogue
2019 - Six Years Later
Sometimes, certain sounds and scents can be like little time machines whisking us back to moments in our pasts that are so vivid, so powerful, that we can close our eyes and step into those memories again.
Those flashes through time can be beautiful, like visiting a lost love just one more time, for the briefest of seconds.
Or they can be devastating; resuscitating ghosts we’d rather never face again.
I experience both variations. Often.
Blue and I shared years of tomorrows that turned into yesterdays, and then one day he was gone. I can’t explain how I knew, other than I watched him slowly drift away and disappear. Maybe it was the way his body relaxed and fell into a deep sleep. Or maybe the absence of the creases in his forehead. It may have been how his eyes remained the color of a summer sky—never shifting to that darker, nameless hue again. It could have been how his touch, once rough, demanding, and controlling, gave way to a sweet, patient gentleness.
I’ll always miss Blue, but I welcomed Evan.
Evan said I do.
Evan placed our newborn baby in my arms.
Evan never walks away, sorts dishes, or believes he can fly.
He does, however, believe in the myth of little red bugs sealing the fate of soulmates.
I do, too.
The sounds of strings being strummed, arpeggios, and Evan’s raspy, sexy vocals welcome me as I step out onto the sunny porch. Only now, our daughter has added her talents to the melody, and they play seamlessly together.
This particular song brings me right back to the park like it was yesterday. I remember the smiles. The rain. Blue’s sexy wink. Clouds and rainbows. Naked flesh against flesh under the bridge. Ice cream and crazy heart flutters.
I remember the singe of fear and longing that would burn through me when I’d have to go back to work and life. As if my heart was telling me no, don’t go too far. This is where you belong.
As soon as I put the tray of iced teas and lemon sugar cookies down on the wicker table in front of them, Evan and Lyric finish their duet and put their instruments off to the side to reach for their favorite cookies.
“I hope you made more, Mom,” Lyric teases. “Dad will devour all of these himself.”
Smiling, I sit on the cushioned loveseat next to Evan. The porch has become our favorite part of the house since we moved in. The house was gutted and rebuilt in record time. We left a lot of the original charm of the house—such as the hardwood floors and the crown molding, but we did some major restructuring to the overall layout. Many of the walls were removed or relocated to give the house an airy, open concept modern style. The bathrooms and kitchen have been completely updated. Our little shed in the backyard has been converted into a small studio—or mancave as Evan likes to call it. We insisted on keeping the original tin roof and have spent many a rainy night in that shed, snuggling on the futon with candles lit.
The house isn’t lonely anymore, or a place Evan is afraid enter. It’s now a home full of love, music, and happiness.