Chapter 35
EVERETT
Ihear her before I see her. She’s walking Henry through his part, her hair tucked back in a clip. Reminding Isaac where he exits the stage with a ramp. Helping Etta fit her light-up sneakers on.
She’s a natural at this.
She moves from one child to the next fixing costumes, reassuring fears, and making everyone smile. I’d spend the entire talent show in the shadows of the audience just to watch her if I could.
“Aren’t you performing?”
Caroline’s voice startles me. I haven’t seen her or heard from her since her text about the Mother’s Day flowers last Sunday.
Everything about my APD has been swirling social media, and I’m not sure how she’s taking it.
I know I should have been the one to tell her.
I never wanted to add to the list of reasons why she wishes she wasn’t tied to me.
But now I know I should have trusted her with the truth regardless.
“Uh, yeah. Just taking it in from here. I never get to be in the audience.”
“A talented performer never should be,” she says.
It’s the first time Caroline has ever complimented my career, and I don’t know what to do with that.
“Caroline, I—”
“Let me start,” she interrupts. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve handled things since…”
She lets that last part fade away. I don’t blame her for struggling to utter the words of El’s passing. Most days I keep it tucked inside a box so I don’t have to think about it either.
“A part of me envies you.” She’s staring at the stage as she says it. Avoiding eye contact with me. I never realized it before, but I think struggling to open up is something Caroline and I have in common. “You get to keep the only part of her that I have left.”
We watch Quinn pretend to fly in a pair of red construction paper wings. Laughter bubbles up from both of us when she almost trips and says, “Oopsie.”
“There’s so much of El in her,” I say.
“I think she has a lot of you too. She’s stubborn, for one.”
I snort. I had that coming.
“And thoughtful.”
“She also might have my disability,” I interject. “I had her tested for speech therapy.” Acknowledging it out loud to the one person who saw it even before I did feels utterly devastating all over again.
Caroline grasps my forearm. “She has your strength. That will carry her through anything, just like it’s done for you.”
A vulnerable and shaky thank you follows her compliment.
Caroline releases my arm as the raw moment fades, drawing her attention back to the stage where Summer adjusts a central microphone.
“She didn’t need to tell me about the journal to know what an exceptional father you are, Everett.”
For a moment I’m confused. Wondering if I should ask Caroline to elaborate.
Summer told me they shared a tense conversation before she left, but she didn’t say exactly what they discussed.
I gather she’s referring to my journal. The one I’ve never been very cautious about tucking away.
Summer must have seen it open on my nightstand and read it at some point.
I wouldn’t be mad at her if she did. There’s nothing in there everyone doesn’t already know about me.
“I couldn’t have done the last couple of months without her,” I say, my breath catching when Summer scurries across the stage herding kids to one side of it.
“I know.”
You either is right on the tip of my tongue.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “The label reinstated my tour. They let me come home between legs of the tour for the talent show, but I’ll have to go back. We’re leaving tomorrow.”
Caroline nods as if she saw this coming, and dread coils in my stomach. I never wanted to take Quinn from her.
“Do you think…” Caroline clasps her hands, fiddling with her thumbs. She studies them as they circle round and round each other. “… Wade and I could come to a couple of your shows?”
Her support is all I’ve ever wanted.
“Of course. I’ll make sure the box office has two tickets on reserve under your name.”
“Thanks,” she says.
I turn toward her. “But Caroline… I could really use some support with Quinn. She won’t want to leave you. I don’t want to ask you to pick up your life and move for us, but it would be nice to have you and Wade closer.”
She finally looks at me, really looks at me, her eyes brimming with emotion I’ve only seen at a funeral. “We want to be where you both are.”
It’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.
“I know I live this unconventional lifestyle for a child,” I explain. “Especially one needing speech therapy. But I promise I’m getting Quinn the help she needs now, and as she grows, that will continue no matter where we are. I’m going to show her that accepting help is her greatest strength.”
“You already are.” She looks at Summer—admires Summer as the fine lines around her eyes soften.
“I asked her to come with us too,” I admit. “She’s not ready yet, but I hope one day she will be.” I want Caroline to know everything. It’s important she understands, no matter how hard it might be to hear.
“Okay, everyone, the show will be starting in five minutes! Please take your seats.” Summer’s voice echoes through the surround sound.
I take a deep breath. One, two, three, four, five.
“That’s my cue,” I whisper.
Caroline snags my wrist before I can walk away. “In case I never find the right moment to ask you this… why didn’t you marry my daughter? You were engaged to her for three years. She wanted to be your wife.”
Sometimes you lose someone without a goodbye, and they leave you behind with a heap of regret. I think of all the things I wish I could have said if I had more time. Not a day passes when this isn’t at the top of that list.
“I never told El about my disability. I wanted to get there. I tried so many times. She deserved someone who could fully open up to her, and I believe one day I would have. I know you probably feel like I moved on quickly with Summer, but I promise you I’ll never stop loving El. I miss her so much. I just—”
“Love Summer too,” she finishes for me.
I nod.
“Eliza would like her,” Caroline says.
It’s my turn to look away, because the tears are threatening to fall, and I need to be on the stage in a minute. I don’t need to be explaining why I’m crying to everyone else.
There’s no timeline for when you’re ready to start over after your life has fallen apart.
No guidelines for when you’re prepared to share it with someone new.
For me it happened swiftly, like the eye of a hurricane in a desert storm.
Sweeping me away to a place more chaotic but equally vibrant than the one I left.
So much of that I owe to Summer. She’s made room for El to exist in all of our lives while she filled the gaps of longing and craters of emptiness that I thought would always be a part of Quinn and me.
I squeeze Caroline’s hand. “Thanks,” I say before I head toward the stage. Ready to step into a life no longer as a solo act. I’ve got an entire village by my side now. I don’t have to do it alone anymore.
“Daddy!” Quinn squeals when she sees me, running into my arms.
I scoop her up and spin her around, careful not to bend her wings.
“You look amazing,” I tell her.
“It’s ah-most ow tun,” Quinn says before letting go and running to catch up with Henry.
“You look amazing too,” I say to Summer as she approaches me.
“I mean, it’s no concert tee, but there are also no mediocre performers here, so…”
“Funny.”
She wraps her arms around my neck. “Hi.”
“Hi.” I pull back, staring into her eyes. That two-letter word holds so much meaning… I missed you; I need you; I love you.
I still haven’t wrapped my head around how much we’ll be apart starting tomorrow.
We spent last Sunday night together before I had to head back to Nashville for the week.
While I was gone, Summer signed a six-month lease on an apartment of her own.
Julia helped her move into her new place, and my parents watched Quinn.
“You made it,” she says, sounding relieved.
“I put it in my rider.”
She leans back, arms straightening and linking at the wrists. “I didn’t know you could do such a thing.”
I kiss her, taking my time to savor it. It’s been a long week apart with far too many more ahead than I care to acknowledge.
“Can you put that in your rider too?” she whispers against my lips.
I shake my head. It might not be our time to move in together, but it doesn’t mean I can’t ask for this. “Won’t need to.”
“And why is that?”
“I’m hoping my girlfriend will come visit me on tour.”
She leans her head to the side. “Your girlfriend, huh? Do people in their thirties still call it that?”
I draw her in by the waist so she’s flush against my body. “I sure hope so. I like it.”
I want to be calling her more than that, but I can’t get ahead of myself. She might not know it yet, but Summer and I are inevitable.
I’m not expecting it when her playful smirk softens to a serious expression.
“I love you, Everett.”
Words I’ve been waiting to hear.
“I think I’ve known it for a while now, but I’ve been too scared to admit it to myself.
In part, because falling for someone in a matter of weeks didn’t work out well for me in the past. But mostly, because I knew once I acknowledged my feelings for you, I’d have an even harder time letting you go.
I hate the thought of you and Quinn living miles away from me. ”
“Good,” I interrupt.
“That’s… good?”
I nod. “We’ll hate it too.”
She laughs. “You know I’ll be there to watch you sing onstage whenever I can. I intend to spend this next chapter, however long it might be, loving you and Quinn every chance I get.”
“Damn, I like the sound of that,” I say, finally showing her how much her words mean to me with my lips. Maybe a little too intimately with the sound of a throat clearing beside us.
Miss Amy is blushing and doing her best to avert her eyes when we look at her. “I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“Everything okay?” Summer asks.
“Not exactly. Henry’s freaking out and Blake is nowhere to be found, and I don’t know what to do!”
I was so wrapped up in this moment I hadn’t asked how I could help.
“I’ll find Blake,” I tell them both as Summer leaves my side for a hand-flapping Henry who is repeating I can’t do it over and over again. If there’s anyone who can calm him down, it’s her.
I don’t have to look far. A rhythmic hum of rolling wheels leads me right to Blake. His back is pressed against the brick exterior of the school, the heel of his Vans creating the repetitive motion of a bent, then straightened knee.
“Is everything okay?” I sit beside him.
“Yeah. It’s fine.”
It’s not fine. His phone is trapping his attention in his lap. Even though it’s a weekend, I should have never assumed he wouldn’t need a ride.
“Come on, Blake. You wouldn’t be out here if everything was fine. What’s going on?”
There’s a rattle to his sigh that suggests he’s more hurt than angry. “He said he would be here.”
Dammit. I want to make promises for a guy I’ve never even met.
Wishing I could tell Blake his dad is just running late.
I want to say that sometimes our parents are trying to do what they think is best for us.
Maybe for him that means making it possible for his son to go to this school or own a cool skateboard.
The man might believe working and providing is enough to show that he cares.
But the truth is, I have no idea if his father meant it when he said he’d be here.
All I have to offer is my truth and hope it helps him feel seen.
“Can I tell you a secret that I’ve never told anyone else before?”
That gets him to look at me.
“Sometimes I resent music. I wish I didn’t need to be great at it for people to notice me.”
Permission. That’s what my words offer as he sends his skateboard sailing across the sidewalk. It tips off the curb, stopping at an angle.
“I want you to know that there are people out there who will show up for you no matter what. Whether you’re a great skateboarder with cool shoes or an awesome friend. I’m lucky to know you, Blake.”
Seconds later, Quinn proves my point. She runs up to him with Summer trailing behind her and tugs on the sleeve of his black sweatshirt. “Tum on, Bwake. Let’s doe!”
“Duty calls,” I whisper to him and wink.
“Thanks,” I hear him say before he takes Quinn’s hand and retrieves his skateboard. A small ray of light bounces off a tiny ladybug sticker on the bottom of his board as they disappear inside the school.
The house lights dim. The buzz of noise settles. A small hand slips into mine.
The final act.
“Are you ready?” I whisper.
She answers with the confident clomp of rain boots as she leads me on the stage, black glitter flakes off and sparkles in a trail from the dots on her wings.
She sits on the short stool beside mine, her grin the first thing I see when the stage lights beam.
Whoops and whistles draw our attention to the first two rows.
Mom and Dad, Caroline and Wade, Emma and Nathan, Julia and Jake, Todd…
they’re all there. I know Will would have been too had I told him about this.
Not spending more time with him is my one regret from the last five weeks.
I look at my little girl as she looks up at me. She hums along as I start to sing.
Little girl, head of curls
Beneath the big blue sky
Imagine things and spread your wings
I know that you will fly
A long long way from home, is where you belong,
Finding yourself and being strong on your own
But if you ever missin’ home, or feeling alone
You always have me, together we’ll be, family
Little girl, stand and twirl
On the open stage
Be free, fly and see
Alone you are so brave
A long long way from home, is where you belong
Finding yourself and being strong on your own
But if you’re ever missin’ home, or feeling alone
You’ll always have me, forever we’ll be
Together you’ll see, family
The crowd erupts in applause, Todd the loudest, as Quinn pretends to fly with her ladybug wings around the stage. She circles my stool and runs into my arms.
Who knew that on a tiny stage, in my childhood school, with my daughter, would be my all-time favorite performance.