I don’t know where that leaves me.
Or us.
On one hand, there’s no problem continuing things just as we are. Me on the road. Hitting up Spruce when I’ve got time off. Him flying to a venue or two to support me, then spend time with me in the hotel—without the need for sneaking around. I can totally envision our lives, even with the distance.
On the other hand, will it eventually become too much? Will he eventually come to resent how often we spend time apart? Will our relationship stagnate and never reach the next step?
Isthere a next step for us?
I don’t have an answer to that.
Today doesn’t have to be about answering that question.
It’s about living in the glory of TJ’s roots, friends, and family.
It’s wiping a spot of mustard off the corner of his lips after an enthusiastic bite of a hotdog, both of us laughing.
It’s laughing too hard when some ridiculous song gets put on, and Hoyt, Jimmy, and some guy named Anthony hop up onto the edge of the wishing fountain and attempt to out-dance each other. Spoiler: none of them win.
It’s cuddling up in the same chair with TJ tucked into my side, and with all the noise and laughter of the party around us, all we see for one beautiful moment are each other’s eyes.
He doesn’t look worried about our future. Not even a little.
So neither will I.
I’ll kiss him while he’s here in front of me. I’ll hold him in my arms and pray morning never comes, just so I can enjoy every last minute with this special guy.
I’ll love on him every second I get.
The rest of the afternoon slips by in that bittersweet way days tend to when you’re just having too much damned fun. But when evening rolls around and the sky is barely dim enough for stars, a fireworks show begins, streams of fire soaring up into the sky and exploding into colors and sparkles and magic. Everyone is around. Lying on chairs. On the soft grass. Standing around with drinks or plates of food in hand. Someone’s kids chasing each other over the grass. The sky booms and crackles overhead, lighting up our eyes.
I’ve played shows bigger than this. Louder than this. With way more colorful lights over your head than you can count.
But none of those shows ever felt like home. Not like this. Not like here and now, in this precious little spot we’ve claimed on this enormous planet floating in an unknowable universe.
Not with this beautiful man in my arms.
Chapter 25.
TJ
Everything is the same.
But I’m not.
Yesterday’s Fourth party still sings in my ears like a song with no shape that I can’t get out of my head. I don’t want it to get out. I want to keep living in that moment forever, clinging to it like my new favorite plushie, knowing it’s gonna go down as one of my happiest memories.
After breakfast, Austin’s bandmates leave. It’s tough to watch them go after the fun time we’ve had together over the past few days. Fiona gives me an unexpectedly tight hug and says, “You are so much more than I thought you were at first, bucko. I hope we get to see you again sooner than later,” which leaves me with a laugh frozen on my face wondering exactly how little she thought of me at first. Wily also gives me a hug, says, “Keep it real,” then heads to the car that’s come to take them to the airport. Raj tells me, “You have a permanent backstage pass, you understand? I’ll let Rob know. Oh, you don’t know Rob. He’s wonderful. And scary. Don’t worry, I’ll introduce you.”
And just before they leave, Austin’s phone quacks.
Not moos. Quacks.
“Thanks, Fiona,” mutters Austin to himself, cracking a smile, as we stand at the front of my house and watch them drive away.
And just like that, it’s quiet again.
Like the concert never happened. Like it’s just Austin and me alone again, enjoying his two-week break.