But now, almost threeyears later, I was holding Tess, and the world hadn’t disappeared. I hadn’tgone spinning, and I hadn’t ceased to exist. In fact, I felt whole, I feltgood, and my heart began to grow.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JON
After breakfastthenext morning, Sebastian arrived with his wife Tabby and son Greyson. WhileTabby familiarized herself with Tess and the girls, Sebastian and Greysonheaded out to the garage with Devin and me.
Greyson sat on a chairin the corner of the studio with his nose to his phone, tapping away. Sebastiancaught my gaze as he sat down at the drum kit in Devin’s garage, and chuckled.
“I swear, that’s allthe kid does,” he grumbled with a shake of his head. “Ever since he got himselfagirlfriend.”
“Shut up, Dad!” Greysongroused, rolling his eyes up from his phone. “She’snotmy girlfriend.”
“She’s a girl, andshe’s a friend,” Sebastian replied, smirking. “What else do you call it?”
“Sounds like agirlfriend to me, Grey,” Devin muttered, plugging his electric-acoustic into anamp.
“Come on!Who’sside are you on?” Greyson laughed, laying the phone inhis lap.
“Just saying,” Devinreplied apologetically, chuckling as he pulled his stool over and sat down.
“You should’ve seen thetwo of them necking in my basement,” Sebastian teased, pointing a stick towardhis scowling son. Greyson’s cheeks turned a flaming shade of red as his mouthflopped open. “See? Like I said.Girlfriend.”
“Oh, my God,” Devinlaughed, shaking his head. “Leave him alone,Seb.”
“Hell no,” Sebastianshot back. “It’s my job to embarrass the hell out of him and scare him fromdoing something he shouldn’t be doing. You’ll understand when your kids getolder.”
“I have girls, bro.That’s what I have a wife for,” Devin snapped, his voice equal parts teasingand triumphant, and my stomach hollowed. “All of that difficult shit, Kylie’sgonnahandle. I’m staying out of it.”
“I hate you both rightnow,” Greyson muttered as he attempted to burrow further into his t-shirt.
I remained quiet, as Ilowered myself onto the stool at the keyboard. Why hadn’t I thought of that,what it will be like for the girls to grow up without a mother? They aregirls, for crying out loud. What’s goingto happen when they need to talk to someone who understands things about brasand periods and tampons? What’s going to happen when they need to know aboutsex and feel too awkward to talk to their father about it?
God, I was never meantto do this alone.
“Okay, Jon,” Devinsaid, grasping my attention. “let’s play one of yours.”
“One of … mine?” Ihesitated, setting my anxiety aside. “I, uh, I don’t have the music written forany otherinstrum—”
“We’ll wing it,”Sebastian enthused as he nodded, his face lighting with enthusiasm. “Come on,let’s do this.”
I swallowed, laying myfingers against the cool plastic keys. “Uh, okay … we can play this new one Istarted writing a few nights ago.”
Devin noddedencouragingly. “Yeah, have at it, man. We’ll jump in.”
The room, quiet savefor the beating of my heart, began to spin. I could play Devin’s songs. I couldplay someone else’s. But playing my own, in the presence of these peopleheading directly toward legendary status, felt like inviting Beethoven or Bachto amateur hour. In a flash, my mouth was the Sahara, and I struggled to ungluemy tongue from the backs of my teeth.
I cleared my throat,realizing their eyes were on me, and my exhale came out in an audible huff.“Okay,” I said mostly to myself, and took a sip of water before positioning myfingers.
My nerves dissipatedinto the air the moment the melody flowed from my heart directly to the keys,and the soft notes came to me as easily as breathing. Alone in a world with mymusic, I was oblivious to the sets of eyes directed at me, and I began to sing.
I’mlying in this cold, dark room,
Aperfect memory left too soon,
Remindsme of the day you went away.
PrayingI can make it to,
