Chapter 37
EVERETT
Facing the symmetrical architecture of my childhood home, I take in the pitched roofline littered with leftover leaves from the fall. Black shutters frame the window of my bedroom—the only place I ever used to be me.
Everyone’s already gone inside, and I’m preparing myself for the onslaught of noise when I finally follow them.
The wind flutters the tulips tucked up close to where the siding meets the foundation. My mom’s hard work is blooming into season. A reminder that it’s almost summer and time to leave this place.
“Hey, man,” a hesitant voice calls, pausing my walk down memory lane.
Will is unloading groceries from the back end of Delilah’s Prius. When I make eye contact with him, he sets the paper sacks on the sidewalk and approaches me.
“Hey.” Compunction robs the joy from my voice. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the day he finished my studio, and the final person on the list of people I owe an explanation to.
“I saw the news.” He stops a few feet from me and tucks his hands in his Carhartts.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
“I don’t care about that. Honestly, it explains a lot. I just want to make sure you’re okay. Are you?”
Looking back, I think I’ve always known he’d handle it this way. I could trust Will. Seems silly why I didn’t tell him in the first place.
“I am now.”
“We should go out for a drink and catch up when you’re not busy.”
“My parents are throwing this farewell thing… Quinn and I are headed back to Nashville tomorrow. Want to come inside?”
He grips the back of his neck. “Oh, uh… I better check in with Delilah first. But I’ll try to swing by in a bit. I’d also love to come see you in Nashville if you’re ever up for it?”
“Yeah, man. Anytime. Let Delilah know she’s invited tonight too.”
“I will,” he says before turning and walking away.
I glance at Will’s house—the place I used to spend a lot of my time growing up—and then look at my own—the one I’ve spent all of my time in lately.
Harrison Boulevard is different now. A good different.
Filled with new memories I’ll always hold on to.
Like the place I parked my car on the cement driveway when I fell for Summer in a little black dress.
Or the loft above the garage that Will transformed into my music studio where I nursed my talent back into existence.
And the room inside this house that is full of people who helped me navigate every stage of grief I needed to experience on my road to feeling whole again.
I’m leaving. Not for good, but for a while. This time when I think of Harrison Boulevard, I’ll only feel love. “Boise’s Historic District” is where I found me… Everett Dawson.
It’ll always be home.
“There you are!” Emma yanks me by a fistful of my shirt into a corner of the dining room the moment I walk through the front door. Judging by her flushed cheeks and quick breaths, something’s got her stressed.
“What’s wrong?”
Her hand drops to her side. “Well, for one, Caroline is still calling me Emily.”
I snort. Good to know I’m not the only one who lets Caroline get under their skin. Which is why I’m more surprised than her by my response. “The woman’s done a lot of changing lately. Let’s cut her a break.”
She swipes a strand of hair out of her face. “Actually, Caroline’s the least of my concerns right now.”
“What’s up then?”
In the foot of space she’s left herself between the dining room chair and the wall she’s blocked me against, Emma’s pacing in quick strides and talking with her hands.
“I’m taking over for Jason. It’s just for the next couple months.
He’s going out on medical leave for surgery, so he sent over his caseload this morning. ” She freezes, staring at me.
“Okay?” Am I supposed to be following?
“One of them is Will,” she blurts.
“Will? As in, Will Baker? The guy I just talked to outside?”
“What other Will do we know? Yes, Will Baker!”
“Well, what’s it about?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? I haven’t met with him yet. All it said was that he wanted to set up a meeting for some legal advice on a family matter.”
I scratch the back of my neck, studying the floor.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Emma pries.
I’m wondering if this has anything to do with his grandmother’s health concerns. I lift my gaze to hers. “He’s been worried about Delilah the last couple of months.”
“What?” Her voice cracks.
“He thinks she’s sick,” I clarify.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t realize you were interested.”
“You have to know if I’m interested to say something? He’s my friend too!”
“I’m sorry.”
She sighs. “I don’t want to go into this meeting flat-footed when he clearly didn’t want my legal advice. He didn’t come to me.”
“You can always ask him about it today. I invited him over.”
“You did?”
“It’s my last night here. I wanted to hang out before I have to leave.”
“Right. Yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
For someone so worked up seconds before, she manages to brush off the conversation for a different subject.
“We haven’t gotten a chance to talk since your show. You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod. And for the first time, I mean it. “I finally am.”
“Ev, I’m sorry for that day senior year.” Her throat bobs with her swallow.
I kind of thought we’d dance around this subject forever at this point.
She’s referencing prom, and the day I found out graduation was on the line.
I was flunking out of English class, and our parents were consumed with helping me.
Emma was going through something too, and it was obviously overshadowing that when she yelled in front of the entire prom “It’s always about you!
” I never realized how much my disability affected her life until that moment.
I shake my head. “Don’t worry about it. I know what it’s like to want to fit in, Em. Why do you think I never told anyone?”
“I know. But you needed me. I got caught up in my own drama and wasn’t there for you.”
“It wasn’t your job to be there for me. I was the older brother. You were the little sister. And you’ve been here for me now. Thank you for fixing up my music studio when I needed it.”
She blows right past acknowledging it. “If I could go back, I would have done a lot of things differently,” she whispers.
So would I. She’s not the only one with regrets.
I wrap an arm around her shoulders. “We can do things differently now, starting with dinner. We never had enough of those together.”
“That’s because you were always hiding in your room with that guitar.” She shoots me an exaggerated eye roll.
“Like I said, differently.” I twist her by the shoulders and lead her into the kitchen where everyone is gathered around the island munching on cookies and sipping drinks.
In the sea of people, I search for Summer.
Her hip is tipped against the counter, her foot planted in the crook of her knee, laughing at something Henry just said.
Damn, she’s beautiful when she laughs. I physically ache to be closer to her.
Other than the kiss we shared before the talent show, it’s been days since I’ve gotten to touch her.
I sneak up behind her and whisper, “You want to go somewhere?”
She scrunches her shoulder to her ear, goosebumps breaking out on her skin.
“Yeah.” She already sounds breathless, and it sends my heart on a rollercoaster ride.
I grab her by the hand and lead her out the back door.
She giggles behind me as we climb the steps to the studio.
I pull her inside like a teenager sneaking around with his girlfriend at his parents’ house and kick the door shut.
I thread my fingers in her hair and back her up against it.
When she’s flush to the wood, I kiss her in the way I wanted to earlier when I had to hold myself back.
Every part of me hums with our lips pressed together.
She opens for me when my tongue traces the seam.
I rake my hands up and down her sides. Tear my mouth away and kiss down the column of her neck.
She pants into the collar of my shirt, “Play me something.”
I pause my pursuit. “Our first time alone all week and you want me to play you something?”
Her yes comes out sounding broken as I resume the path toward her collarbone.
“What do you want me to play?”
I stop at her tattoo, pressing a kiss over the top of it. I’ve told her I think it’s sexy before, but I never asked her what it means.
She pulls back to study my eyes and picks the song. “Meant to Stay.”
Stay. I brush a thumb over that exact word in the center of an inked heart.
I shift all of my weight into the arm that’s leaning above her head, wondering why, out of anything she could have chosen, she picked the song I wrote for El. Why she has a tattoo commemorating it on her chest.
“I fell in love with that song before I met you. It gave me hope. That love like that was still possible for me after Brian left. I traveled all the way to your Nashville show to hear it. I obviously never got the chance.”
I haven’t played it since before El died. I haven’t wanted to. But Summer makes me feel like I can do a lot of things I didn’t think I could before. She makes me believe a love like that is not only possible, but that it’s happening with her.
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree.
The guitar is the only piece of equipment in this brightly lit studio that’s been touched in days. It feels like the last time I’ll ever play in this space. The end of an era. Better make it memorable.
Summer curls up on the sofa, resting her head on one of the plaid pillows. She tucks her feet beneath my thigh as I prop the guitar on it. A few twists of the tuning pegs and plucks of the strings, and I launch right into it, not giving myself the chance to change my mind.
We didn’t carve our names in that old oak tree
I hadn’t met you yet when you were Homecoming Queen
It wasn’t young love sneaking out in the back of my Jeep
I wasn’t looking for love when you said take a seat
But I found it anyway
I know you were meant to stay
Until we’re old and gray
I’ll love you forever, babe
Everything in my life wasn’t all in a row
Still, you asked me to stay, and I couldn’t say no
One conversation and it started to grow
I wasn’t looking for love at the end of the show
But I found it anyway
I know you’re meant to stay
Until we’re old and gray
I’ll love you forever, babe
’Til my last day
The song I wrote symbolizes time, I realize. That love finds you when you least expect it. All the little moments of life that lead you to the person you’re meant to be with. That’s what I want with Summer—more time—and I know we’ll have it. I believe it with all that I am.
When I look over at her, she’s still humming the tune with her eyes closed. The picture of perfection next to me.
It’s her voice—the calming, reassuring, happy cadence.
It’s always been the sound of Summer that saved me.