Chapter 40

Share your heart through your music.

KIM

It was a good thing I wasn’t a big believer in signs. Because if I was, I might take it that the universe was flashing a big old “BAD IDEA” one at me right about now.

I ran out of gas. The car drifted to the shoulder with the telltale click-click-sigh. Distantly, I recalled the low gas warning icon had been flashing. But I often saw warnings and ignored them. Roddy, for example.

I was stranded all alone on the side of the road, in the middle of the Smokies. In my defense, when I took Mom’s car I’d been hurrying, my nerves rattled. There were a lot of reasons I wasn’t on my gas game, so to speak. The show started in less than an hour and I had no idea if I would make it in time now. I’d been practicing my butt off for days. I had a plan. Frustrated tears burned at my eyes. I took deep breaths to get my bearings. Deep, cleansing breaths. It would be alright. Someone was bound to drive by.

I gnawed on my lip and got out of the car, too anxious to sit still and wanting to wave the first person to pass. How far would the walk be to the nearest gas station? It was still a good ten-minute drive from here. Oof. In these shoes, with a cello on my back? I didn’t think so.

As though from the heavens, a car came around the bend from the other direction. Anywhere else I’d have been hesitant, but this was Green Valley and the car was a white Honda Odyssey. It didn’t exactly scream kidnapper. I waved my arms around like a lunatic trying to get their attention. They passed me and my shoulders slumped, defeated.

But then the car turned around! In a smooth motion, the van performed a three point turn on the narrow mountain road. As soon as it rolled to a stop behind me, I ran to the driver’s window. I knocked as the driver began to lower it.

I was coming off as a total lunatic. That’s okay. I was a lunatic. A lunatic in love and on a mission.

“Hi! I need help. I promise I’m—”

My jaw hit the ground.

“Kim Dae, as I live and breathe. Is that you?”

Shock. That was the only way to put it. Of all the cars, in all the world …

“Jethro Winston.” I stared into the eyes of the man I’d once thought I loved.

He was still as handsome as ever. Older, for sure. But that dark hair, that beard … Maybe I did have a type.

I was transported in time. The heat of a tail pipe burned through my jeans, the vibration of a motorcycle shook my body, the smell of cloves encompassed me. The back of my knees tingled. Oh, come on, universe.

“Kim, what’s going on? Is it your car? Need me to call Cletus?”

I shook my head back to the present.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know …” I took a deep steadying breath. I could do this. “This is what I need. My car is out of gas. If you think Cletus could bring someone in time so I can leave in the next ten minutes, then maybe. But what I’d really love—”

“Daddy” a small voice called out.

Jethro—a father, so weird—turned in his seat to smile at the rosy-cheeked toddler in a car seat in the back. “What’s up, buddy?”

Holy child, Batman.

“Water.” The toddler pointed to the ground.

Jethro smiled back at me. “Hang on a sec.”

As he struggled with one arm reaching behind the driver’s seat, presumably to search for a missing sippy-cup, I scanned the rest of the car. The passenger seat was empty and admittedly, I was only twelve percent disappointed Sienna wasn’t there. Suzie said Sienna had attended one of her classes and she was as amazing as we’d imagined her to be. I’d never seen her in person.

“She’s shooting in another state,” he said as though reading my thoughts. Or probably because, no offense to Jethro and his fantastic good looks, but Sienna Diaz! “Just me and the little one this week.”

I cleared my throat to find my voice. I was still half bent to look in the car. The happy toddler with dark curls waved from the back seat, saying “hi” every fifteen seconds. I waved back. “Never thought I’d see you driving around in one of these.”

“Never been prouder of a car.” He winked and just like that my insides melted.

I made an awkward face but I was in a pickle. “This may be too much, but I don’t suppose y’all could give me a ride to the performance center? I’m late.”

He glanced in the rear view mirror. “Not a problem. Just so happens we’re headed into Knoxville.”

Hopped once excitedly. “Thank you so much! Just gotta grab my cello, hang on.”

“Plenty of room,” he called after as I ran to get my instrument.

Back on the road, my nerves abated a little.

“Glad to see you're back in town and playing again,” Jethro said.

His voice—so many memories. This was so weird. If not for the fact that my mind was on a totally different man right now, I’d be having a freak out. What a place I’ve come to when Jethro Winston didn’t turn me into a puddle on the ground. In fact, I could hardly hear what he said for my thoughts of Devlin. I just needed to get there before he finished. I just needed to show him.

“Nerves?” Jethro’s voice cut through my thoughts.

I realized I was gnawing on my thumb and shaking my leg like I was making butter. “Yes. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t know you were playing that show tonight,” he said.

“In theory. Hopefully.”

“Been following your career. You’ve taken off lately.”

“Really?” I glanced over at him.

His face was clouded over with a frown. He glanced to the rearview mirror at the kid babbling happily.

“I gotta say something real quick,” he said.

My stomach dropped.

It wasn’t that I had ill feelings toward Jethro. It was just that I had no feelings toward him. I had happy-ish memories of some real wild nights together, but all my big feelings, the real ones, those were all wrapped up with a man about to step on stage alone. A man I needed to get to ASAP.

“Go ahead,” I said.

“I have to tell you how sorry I am for everything back then. How it all went down.”

“Thank you. I know you aren’t that guy anymore.” We’d all talked about that in the SWS. How he’d changed. Though we would never admit it. The SWS, while formed from a place of anger, had morphed into something so much more. It was about friendship and love and support. It focused on the beauty in life and on letting the past go.

“Still. It eats me up sometimes when I think about it,” he said.

“Jet, I walked into that bar looking to ruin my life. That’s not on you.”

“Yeah, but I was all too keen to help, wasn’t I?”

How many of us are holding on to our mistakes? It made me sad, but at the same time, look where he was now. Everything had worked out just as it should.

I said, “Somebody recently told me that the mistakes in our past are not meant to be life sentences. You’ve moved on from that life, and so have I.”

“That person sounds real wise,” he said.

“He has his moments,” I grumbled.

He took a deep breath and nodded once. He wasn’t done. “I have to tell you something else.”

His eyes scrunched up tight like he was finding courage to say the next part. “I told your parents about the drugs hidden in your cello case that night. I put them there. I’m the reason you went to rehab.”

My heart jumped, skipped, then totally stalled out. “You what?”

“That night your parents confronted you, it was because I’d sent them an anonymous message. I—well, I won’t go into all of the reasons why, but you were too good for that life. You know, I’d heard about you before I met you. People talked about your playing. You were so talented. You had to get out. I thought if you could get help, you could get away. I was too chickenshit to do anything more than that.”

I absorbed his words. He was the reason I went to rehab. I had always thought my parents just stumbled upon it. All these years … Shouldn’t I feel angry? But I didn’t. Everything he’d done had turned my life around. I shuddered to think where I might still be if I hadn’t gotten help. A month ago, I would have been angry. I would have felt sad at all the wasted years, but now, I didn’t care. All that mattered was the future.

“Thanks for telling me, Jet. You were mixed up deep back then. I can’t say I’m happy about that, but I understand.”

He pulled up to the front of the performance center.

“Thanks for finding me,” I said. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t showed up.”

“It’s sort of what I do.” He shrugged sheepishly.

“Lucky for me.” I held his gaze and smiled wide. “Bye, Jethro. Bye.”

I jumped out of the seat and waved goodbye to him and the kid in the back. I grabbed my cello from the back and was about five feet from the car when the window rolled down.

“Just keep playing,” he said. “No matter what happens, just keep playin’.”

My heart skipped. I frowned, but he was gone before I could say anything else.

I didn’t have time to replay that. I had a performance to make. I ran toward the entrance. Time to forgive my past too, and start my future.

“Where have you been?” Gretchen yelled. “I’m sweating like a sinner in church.”

“I know.” I had just raced up to them through the crowd of musicians gathered quietly backstage. My hair was falling loose and sweat made my skin sticky. “You will never believe what happened. I’ll tell y’all later.”

I peeked behind the curtain on to the stage. Devlin had already started playing. If I didn’t get up there now, all those hours I’d played non-stop since returning home wouldn’t mean anything. I was ready for this. I was weirdly strengthened by my interaction with Jethro. It was like running into the Ghost of Christmas Past.

Blithe, Suzie, and Gretchen circled me. The three were dressed in matching black with their hair pulled up, looking like a bunch of second-rate ninjas. When the SWS made a plan, we didn’t mess around.

“Where’s Roxy?” I asked, just noticing her absence.

Gretchen widened her eyes and sucked in a breath. “Girl, now that’s a story for another day.”

“She wanted to be here though. She told me to tell you to kick booty,” Blithe said.

“She’s okay though?” I asked.

Gretchen and Blithe exchanged a look. “Think so,” the blonde said.

“She will be,” Gretchen said. “Don’t worry about that right now. You focus on getting up there.”

I nodded and glanced down to check my appearance one last time. I wore a comfortable outfit of black stretchy pants and a long, see-through, flowing top that went down to the back of my knees, over a thin-strapped tank. My hair was up but not as tight as usual, with a few loose tendrils framing my face. I felt comfortable in my body.

“Is everybody here?” I asked the girls scanning the crowd around me. As far as I could tell, most of the symphony waited to go up, dressed to the nines.

Blithe nodded. “Mostly. I don’t think Carla could make it.”

Gretchen rolled her eyes.

I glanced toward the stage. This was it. Do or die. Only one thing stood between me and claiming my life—one teenage boy with straggly hair and a knit beanie. He was a stagehand and he currently blocked the only entrance about five feet away. Devlin’s voice rang out. Chills prickled my arms. His voice would always do that to me.

“I have an idea,” Gretchen said. “That guy’s what? Like, eighteen tops?” Gretchen looked over my shoulder at the kid. “We’re four beautiful women, or as Kim would say, ‘objectively not ugly’.”

“We could distract him, and Kim could run on stage,” Blithe finished.

“Uh, hello?” The kid in question walked up to us. “I can hear y’all. You’re actually being really loud. Can you quiet down?”

“Sorry,” we all mumbled, looking at our feet and not feeling badass at all.

He looked at me and blushed. “I know Christine Day. I was here that one time with Ford’s Fosters, so if you just wanna …” He thumbed behind him.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I mean, you’re not planning to mess him up, I’m guessin’.”

“But we had a whole plan.” Gretchen looked a little put out.

“Yeah, you’re harshing our vibe, kid,” Blithe said.

“I could put up a fight?” He cleared his throat before dryly saying, “No. Please. You can’t go up there.”

“Better. I guess,” Blithe said.

I shook out my hands as dread cemented in my gut.

“Y’all, I’m gonna go up.” I took a deep breath in and blew it out slowly through a pursed mouth. Suddenly, the realization settled in that not only was I playing in front of a massive crowd, I was also at great risk of total rejection.

“You got this, girlfriend.” Each girl whispered words of encouragement as I gripped the neck of my cello. I couldn’t focus enough on who said what, but they were all excited for me.

I made my way on to the stage. The girls ran out to pull up a chair behind the piano. He was too lost to the music to notice anything other than his performance. The audience spotted me and whispered words reached my ears between the notes of his song. I lifted my bow and began what I’d been rehearsing.

I kept my eyes closed as I played. The audience was huge, but I wasn’t playing for them. I played for Devlin and nobody else. I played for him like my life depended on it. It did. My whole heart depended on it.

I could tell the moment he stopped playing the piano. His voice broke with emotion and my own tears came. He’d played for me. And now I played for him. The audience was silent. But I felt him turn to watch.

This was the power I had. This was my strength where I’d thought I had none. Here was my gift. I could give and not take. I could leave a mark on the world.

I played for him, with every fiber of my being. I imagined the night we played silent music, with his arms wrapped around me. I embodied all the emotion he was desperate to convey.

Feel my love. Feel everything, I was telling him.