49. Evelyn
49
Evelyn
M ist blankets the town, making the morning feel suspended in time as if it would last forever with all of my favorite people crammed inside one house. Last night, Mom and Dad took the largest bedroom, Drew and Lacey took the guest room, and the rest of us crammed into the living room on the couch and an ancient air mattress we found in the linen closet.
I’d woken up in the middle of the night, nose to nose with Garrett and said, “I did it.”
“You did it,” he’d said, and I’d cried. I’d cried silent tears of relief in the arms of the man I love while everyone slept around us.
We all have to be out by this afternoon. Alina has rented the house to a couple who are expecting to love their stay as much as I have. She offered to let us stay in her house, but I think this is supposed to end. Or maybe this is how it’s supposed to begin.
Avery is the first to leave. Technically, she was going to leave last night but something made her stay. I pull her into one last hug before she steps off the porch.
“I’m going to perform with you one day. It’s going to be fucking great and we’re going to wear so much glitter,” she says into my messy hair.
“We are and it’s going to be amazing,” I say as my throat thickens.
“Because you’re amazing. I’m just so happy you’re being brave enough to share this part of you.” With those words she pulls away.
I wait until her car turns off Austen Dr. before I head inside. Everyone is up and cluttered around the table with their various cups of coffee. Lacey brought her own coffee maker; a cheap one she used to brew coffee. It smells foul but she seems to like it.
“I’m going to get pastries in town. Who wants to come with me?” Quinn asks with a pointed look around the room.
“I’m good,” Oliver says, then there’s a light thud under the table. He straightens in his chair and mugs clatter on the table. “You know what? I would actually love to get up and move.”
That’s all the convincing everyone else needs to vacate the room, leaving only me and my parents.
As he passes by, Drew squeezes my shoulder. “I have a good feeling about this.”
“That makes one of us,” I joke. I feel okay about this. Not great, but definitely okay.
I said what I needed to get out in the moment during the last time Mom and I talked, letting out feelings that have festered for years until they turned ugly.
“I forgot how beautiful your voice was,” Mom says, her voice hesitant as I feel.
“I’m sorry,” I start, still feeling shaky despite how much practice I’ve gotten talking about this recently.
Dad shakes his head then sets down his mug shaped like a giant blueberry. “No. Don’t apologize. Never apologize for something you do so well.”
“But I am sorry,” I say. Not for music. I make a silent promise to myself to never feel sorry for my music ever again. “I could have told you, maybe this would be different if I had.”
“Maybe it would be different. I wanted to help you and your brother, but I didn’t know when to stop. You’re all grown up…but I remember when I had you, all I wanted was my mother, but she was so far away,” Mom says. God, she looks so old in the gray morning light. My strong mother who tirelessly still takes care of us and looks out for us even as adults when she did so much of this on her own when her and Dad came from Italy. I ache for her and the woman she was, raising two kids and sharing her love of music that reminded her of home. “I’m glad you made your choice before we learned the truth. This way I can’t try to save you from your dream. You forced me to think why you’d hide anything in the first place. I wasn’t doing the saving, you were. You were saving yourself and us.”
“You did such a good job,” I say. “I could have done a better job.”
“You shouldn’t have had to in the first place,” Dad says. " Ti voglio bene. " 1
My eyes blur and then I’m wrapped in their arms.
I’m safe. I’m loved.
“I’m so proud of you,” Mom murmurs as she tenderly strokes my hair. Tears spill from my eyes as my heart bursts.
I always told myself I’d be fine without hearing those words from her. I’d convinced myself for so many years I was happy doing this alone. I’m starting to lose count of how many times I’ve been proven wrong over the last few days.
We talk a little longer and once we’ve had a moment to collect ourselves, I text Drew.
Evelyn
You guys can come back now.
Drew
Everything ok?
Evelyn
Not perfect yet. But really good
The day remains hazy, but the rental feels like a lighthouse with how it glows with the joy radiating off it. Throughout the day people head out. First Drew and Lacey, who are going to visit her friend who’s a professor upstate. Then my parents leave in the early afternoon. Oliver and Quinn linger as long as possible before leaving for the fourth, and hopefully last, flight of their trip. I promise to visit.
“Are you ready?” Garrett calls from the doorway to where I’m standing by the piano. Most of my bags are still in my car from the last time I tried to leave and his are waiting by the door next to our shoes.
I shake my head. “There’s one last thing we need to do.” My fingers float over the closed key cover. Meg is getting picked up in the morning and Alina has promised to let me know when the piano is headed back to the city. “It feels wrong to finish the album anywhere else.”
It would be a betrayal to the house that saw us through it all to not let it witness this last memory.
“I agree.” Garrett steps up behind me and runs his hand down my spine then rests it on my hip. “Have you decided how it ends?”
“I think life decided for us,” I say.
“Oh, really?” I tilt my head up to look at him. The smile on his lips tells me he knows the answer but he wants me to be the one to say it.
I lean back into him. “You’re my happiest possible ending. Remember?”
“How could I forget?” he asks, reaching past me to uncover the keys. His hand dips down to play the first chord.
For the last time, the house fills with music. It sounds like forever, it sounds like us.
1. I love you.