Chapter 36
S omeone was playing the guitar when I walked into Quinn Canyon after Alex dropped me off.
It was a melodically sad song at odds with the cloudless sky and stiflingly hot October afternoon outside.
You could never imagine there was an autumnal heat wave happening when you were cocooned here.
It was both a physical and metaphorical refuge to so many people during my childhood.
But, of course, the only person who seemed incapable of taking shelter in it was me.
Maybe because I had witnessed the underbelly of a house like this, where dreams were fanned to flames and turned to ashes.
When the party was over, the fire extinguished, I was always the one that picked Mom up from the bathroom floor after her quiet sobs had woken me up in the middle of the night.
She tried so hard. She wanted to make it so bad.
But she had to watch everyone else’s dreams blossom, while she became a footnote in their story.
She was always the one left behind. By my dad. By her friends. By her own hopes.
She was enough hopeless romantic for all of us. She had enough belief to take over an entire room. And she was still doing it.
I watched her in the teal velvet armchair, on the edge of her seat, swaying to the music, eyes closed, hands grasped together. The man playing the guitar seemed to be around Benny’s age, of Indian descent, with a closely trimmed beard and long, slightly curled, black hair.
His voice was hauntingly beautiful and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He was an alluring performer, gorgeous and charismatic. Willow and Jasper were there. And so was Ali’s daughter, Aya, two large boxes of pizzas open on the coffee table that I assumed she brought from her dad’s shop.
Scattered around the living room were a few other people I didn’t recognize.
It was like stepping into the past, a remnant of how life used to be.
Mom, surrounded by virtuosos, believing in their talent so much that within a year they’d be at the Grammys or the Academy Awards, or playing opposite some A-list star on an indie movie, about to be discovered.
The artwork that lined nearly every bit of open wall space were from people Mom knew, who’d passed through Quinn Canyon on their rise to fame.
I had never known people called it the Magic House, but now it seemed obvious.
I couldn’t believe Mom could sit there peacefully immersed in the music, soft smile on her face, and not be overwhelmed by bitterness and resentment.
It occurred to me that it’s exactly how I’d feel if our positions were switched.
If I had spent my whole life chasing a dream that didn’t want to be caught, I’d hate anyone who’d made it. It was such an ungenerous look at life.
The man stopped playing and I removed my hands from over my heart where they’d somehow moved to, and clapped loudly.
The song was beautiful and I had never heard it before.
He must have written it. Mom caught me watching and her eyes went wide like she hadn’t expected to see me there.
She waved me over and patted the low broad arm of the armchair.
When I sat down, her arm fit snugly around my waist.
“That’s Ravi,” she whispered. “He’s just flown in from London to meet with some American labels.
He’s amazing, isn’t he?” I gave a sound of agreement, transfixed on Ravi.
He was tuning his guitar and his horde of admirers were all quiet, waiting for him to begin again.
Silently, I waved to Willow, Jasper, and Aya.
It felt like we all knew we were in the presence of greatness, like we were aware that we’d lose Ravi to the mechanisms of fame and success eventually but right now, right here, he belonged only to us.
He was about to begin his next song, his long tapered fingers grasping the neck of his guitar, sliding them down the strings the way one might slide down a body. I shook my head, laughing, aware that I’d had a lot of sex recently and everything was becoming erotic because of it.
Just as Ravi strummed his first chord, the door flew open and Benny, in her chaotic glory, whooshed in with a camera swinging around her neck, her phone in her hand, and two tote bags overflowing with various detritus. She stopped short when she saw everyone looking at her.
“Oh, shit,” she said. “Sorry.”
“I thought you had a job,” Mom said. “You said you wouldn’t be home until dinner.”
“I didn’t get it,” she replied, eyes darting around to the audience watching her. The wince was barely perceptible, but I didn’t miss it. “Ignore me,” she added. “Keep playing, stranger.” She nodded toward Ravi and we all turned around to look at him.
But he was looking at my little sister as if he, himself, had been the one starstruck.
“Hello? I’m Ravi,” he said, an introduction very clearly directed at my sister. His voice was a precise English accent that suddenly made his appeal ten times more potent. Benny was oblivious. She had her back turned to us all and was rummaging through her tote, cursing under her breath.
Mom was watching this all intently and said, “Benny,” loudly until she turned back around. “Come sit.”
Benny gave us a weird look, but then put all her belongings down and sat on the ground with her back up against Mom’s chair.
It was unmistakable that Ravi could not tear his eyes away from her.
One woman who was quite young and had been silently watching this all from near the fireplace let out a little mewl of a cry, and ran out the front door.
“That’s just Jolene,” Mom said. “She lives down the street. She’s in love with any guy who can play a guitar. Poor girl. God knows I’ve been there.”
I looked over at Aya and we both stifled the kind of laughter that said, Is anyone else seeing the absurdity unfolding before us?
Ravi was still incapable of playing the guitar, bewitched by Benny, who was scrolling her phone. Mom kicked her. “Benny, the phone. Let’s listen. This is Ravi. This is Benny, my daughter.”
“Benny,” he whispered under his breath.
Her head finally snapped up.
“Hey,” she said. “Sorry. I’m listening. Go ahead.”
Aya and I caught eyes again. The tension was so palpable I felt like I might giggle uncontrollably because of it. Aya looked like she was having the same problem.
“This is a love song,” Ravi said, only looking at Benny. “A heartbreak song,” he added, composure breaking. “Not like a current love. I’m single. It’s a past love.”
Again, Aya and I caught eyes and had to look away, lest we ruin this perfect moment.
Ravi started playing, his voice casting out around the incredible acoustics of Quinn Canyon’s living room.
It took about five seconds of him playing for Benny to still and regard him in an entirely different way.
I watched it happen, watched Ravi play every note in her direction, watched as she hardly blinked for three full minutes.
I had a ludicrous thought that nearly made me fall off the arm of the chair.
It dropped into my head like a dream. I hope they fall in love.
The idea of it made me feel like golden glitter was dancing around in the air, which I found incredibly odd and suspicious, given I didn’t believe in love, or romance, or destiny, or soulmates. Why did I even care?
I decided to swiftly ignore it.
When Ravi’s beautiful song was over, I stood up and headed to the kitchen, wanting to get very far away from whatever chemical reaction was happening between Ravi and Benny, and whatever it was inspiring within me.
I placed my hands on the kitchen island, taking in deep breaths, not realizing how shaken up I was until I had a moment alone.
It was panic, creeping up like a freight train, gathering speed.
Mom popped her head into the doorway.
“You okay?” she asked as I quickly regained my composure.
“Of course,” I said.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay, well, quick question,” she asked. “Alex is making dinner, right? You think he’d mind a few more people to feed?”
“Let me ask,” I said, still a little shaken up.
“If not, I can kick all these people out,” she said, smiling.
“Or he can cook another night.”
“Don’t you want him to cook tonight?”
“Sure. But maybe he’s tired and doesn’t want to do it.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Oh, I get it,” Mom said. “You’re pulling away.”
“I’m not pulling away.”
“Yeah,” she said. “You are. That’s what you do. You pull away.”
“I’ll text him, okay?” I told her, annoyed.
“Don’t you dare tell him not to come. I’d rather kick everyone out than give you an excuse to cancel on that man.”
“Fine,” I said. “But you do know he’s leaving soon, right? Like he’s moving away? Does it really matter whether I pull away now or later?”
“Yes,” she replied, definitively. “It matters.”
“Why? Why does it matter?”
“Because you promised him, you promised me, and you promised your sister you’d give it a month and the month isn’t over yet and you already want to run. You need to see where this all goes.”
“I know where it goes,” I mumbled.
“You think you do,” she said. “You always think you have it all figured out.”
I shook my head, crossed my arms across my chest.
“I’m going to politely ask Ravi’s admirers to leave. He’ll stay for dinner with Jasper, Willow, and Aya. Unless Alex really has a problem with more people.”
“I’ll ask him.”
“Good.”
She flitted out of the kitchen and I was reminded of another reason this place had never been a refuge for me: because my mom could see right through me, always.
Sometimes you just want to make your bad decisions in peace.
I texted Alex, asking if he minded feeding four extra people.
of course i don’t mind
i always make plenty
also, i miss you
can i say that?
i miss you
it’s only been an hour
i keep getting flashes of you under me, on top of me, my head between your legs hearing all your sounds and i can’t function
you are so fucking beautiful
and sexy
and smart
and funny
just needed you to know that
see you soon
I did not appreciate the swoop my heart made at reading these texts. My stupid heart, betraying me, yet again.
when will you be here?
i miss you, too
too much actually
be there in an hour
meet me outside so i can take my time saying hello before i have to meet people
i can’t say hello to you the right way if people are around
I literally had to force the corners of my lips to go back to neutral, so blazing was my preposterous smile.