My heart flew up to my throat, catching on the knot that had already formed there, making it hard to breathe or think or move. Turn the music store into a music studio? I tried to eye the space differently. The size and shape of it. The blocking we’d have to do, the places we’d have to close off, especially if we wanted to rent it out and still give access to the upstairs without impacting the recordings going on.
The practice rooms could be turned into specialized sound booths. Tristan would still have her art studio. I could make music while she painted. A life twined together. Memories built together.
“La Musica de EnsueñosStudios…” My throat was still clogged and the words coming out stuttered and gritty, but as I said them, my heart leaped and my skin broke out in goosebumps.
She looked up at me, excitement filling her beautiful eyes. “Really?”
I nodded. It absolutely would work. Our past memories turning into future ones. We could draw clients who needed to work away from the hectic pace of Nashville or New York City. It would cost a lot of money, but I had money to blow. I had money that would be stacked on top of money for decades. I’d bought one residence, the loft in New York. I didn’t own a boat or a jet or even a car for that matter. I spent money on my security, my team, and my music, and not much else. My financial advisors had been crawling at me for years to diversify, get some tax write-offs.
The studio would likely lose money, but I didn’t care. It wasn’t about that. It was about the woman standing in my arms with shining eyes and a heart so big she’d been able to find room in it for me alongside all the people she’d lost.
I kissed her because I didn’t have any more words to tell her just how much it meant to me. How deeply I felt it in my bones. Ava was the word part of our duo much more than me. But I could show Tristan what I felt.
Her hands went around my neck, and we lost ourselves in the delightful dancing of our tongues and souls. Our lives had both revolved around a woman who had taught us how to be grown-ups. How to survive life's disappointments as much as the rewards. I wasn’t sure if Elana had known that, once Tristan’s and my worlds crashed into each other, we wouldn’t be able to walk away, but I did think she knew we were both artists lost and needing to be found.
I may have made it to the top of the musical food chain, but I still had been missing something important in my life. The holes had found their way into my music, into my voice and my beats and my rhythms, and I could see them shrinking with every touch and smile and kiss I shared with the gorgeous person in front of me.
A future. A purpose. A goddamn new song to sing that promised to be new and fresh every day.
???
Eight weeks later
The air was hot but not yet heavy like it would be in another few weeks as I stepped out onto the patio with a plate of bean burgers Cass had made. She’d insisted they would hold up to the barbecue, but I wasn’t so sure. Not because of how she’d made them, but because I wasn’t the kind of guy to grill anything successfully.
The voices in the house followed me out the screen door, and as I looked inside, my heart filled with warmth at what I saw there. It once had been Elana’s house, and then it had become Tristan’s, and now it was ours. I’d been living with her and Hannah for most of May. Cassidy and Chevelle were fine on their own, but now that my parents were back, there was even less of a reason for me to be at my parents’ place.
I watched through the screen door as Cassidy laughed at something Hannah said. The little girl had tied me around not just her pinky, but every single finger she owned, and I loved it just like I loved her. Her top hat was askew, as usual, and the smile on her face was real. I couldn’t wait to see how big her smile got at the opening of the festival on Friday. The surprise I had planned for her made me almost as giddy as she looked.
Cassidy came to the screen door. “What are you doing? Are you going to start the burgers or stand there dreaming?”
“Smart-ass,” I groused, but it was said with a grin that she matched.
My sister and I were building our dreams next door to each other. It was nothing I’d ever thought possible back when I was a teen. I hadn’t ever thought there would be a place where our lives would collide. Maybe because I hadn’t known either of our dreams well enough.Or maybe they’d both changed before we’d realized it.
But now, we were in and out of each other’s spaces daily. The store. Tristan’s. Our parents’. It felt good. It felt right. Without Mom and Dad overshadowing us and our relationship, Cass and I had not only gotten to know each other, but we’d helped each other out as we tore apart and renovated the two spaces standing next to each other on Main Street.
Cass’s restaurant was still a few months away from its grand opening, and she still couldn’t decide on a name, but the old Kincaid place was slowly turning into a mystical garden. Fountains and ferns and windchimes.So different than the trendy metal and wood of the studio Tristan and I were building inLa Musica,but also the same because they both had heart in every object and every piece being put into them.
Cass turned, tripped on some unseen object, and steadied herself with her hand on the counter as Mom came by with Chevelle in her arms. Mom’s eyes flickered, but she didn’t make a big deal of it. Instead, she just patted Cassidy on the shoulder and then came out the door to join me on the patio.
Our parents had barely arrived back in town the weekend before with the school term finally over, and their time in Ireland had come to a close. It meant they’d be in Grand Orchard permanently again. I’d been nervous when they’d shown up at the house this afternoon and been introduced to Tristan’s parents for the first time. But so far, everyone had gotten along. Even my mom and me.
I turned back to the grill and placed the burgers on them, jumping back as the flame burst out at me. Mom laughed. “Do I need to ask your dad to come and take over,mo leanbh?”
“I got it,” I said, watching as the first burger began to ease through the grates. “Maybe.”
Mom came a little closer, but not close enough for Chevelle to be caught in the smoke. “You’re doing fine.”
The rare compliment hit me in the pit of my stomach, and I looked up to find her eyes serious.
“They won’t be perfect, but they’ll be edible,” I said.
“Perfect is often an illusion,” Mom responded, and somehow, I had the feeling she was talking about more than bean burgers and the grill. She swallowed, looked down at Chevelle chewing on his fingers, and then back to me. “I’m sorry.”
“What?” I croaked out.
“The last few months, your father and I have had a lot of time to talk…to reflect…me more than him,” she said with a wry smile, and I almost couldn’t breathe because my mom never admitted weakness. “My frustration at you for not protecting Cassidy was really just a manifestation of my own frustration at myself for not being able to do it either. But the truth is, none of us can ever do enough to protect her. Just like she can’t always protect Chevelle, and you won’t always be able to protect Hannah.”
