Two Months Later
Gannon pulled up the collar of his jacket and tweaked his baseball cap as he stepped over the cords taped to the floor of the elementary school gymnasium. Twenty or thirty rows of metal chairs bustled with movement and conversation between him and the stage. He advanced up the outside aisle. A glance revealed no one he knew in a row about halfway up, so he slid into a seat and watched his program, hoping that by being still, he’d draw less attention.
The discord of the musicians tuning tempted him to lift his head toward the makeshift orchestra pit, but he couldn’t risk it. Any moment now, the house lights should go down, and he’d be free to look.
Young, overly loud laughter sounded from the center aisle.
Olivia had chopped and dyed her hair, and she wore dark eyeliner. Despite the edginess, her oversized flannel looked like it’d been chosen for comfort. He didn’t recognize the others with her, a group of girls about her own age, maybe friends from college. Based on what Adeline had said, Olivia was within a month or two of finishing her freshman year.
The girls stepped into the row ahead of him, pointing to seats where they’d be a couple of chairs from him. Olivia’s line of sight fell on him. She froze and blinked.
So much for keeping a low profile. He cringed, but instead of pointing and screaming the way she would’ve last summer, her head swiveled away.
“I don’t like this spot. How about up there?” She lifted her arm and pointed to seats about as far from him as they could get. “It’s so much closer. I want to see. And hear. Remember last year when the speakers went out?”
She waited at the end of the row until all her friends exited. When they were on their way to the seats she’d pointed out, she winked and hurried after them.
Gannon chuckled and fixed his attention back on the program until the lights went out.
Standing in front of the velvet curtain in the pool of a spotlight, the director talked about the musical and the cast. In the orchestra pit, musicians switched on the lights mounted to their music stands, the glow glinting against their white shirts and the metal of woodwinds and brass.
And there stood Adeline.
Only the conductor, the two percussionists, and she with her bass, were on their feet. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail with soft curls at the ends. Her variation on the dress code of black and white was classy, a silky short sleeve blouse and slim-fitting dress pants, probably paired with flats since she looked as short as ever, especially next to her instrument. Her expression was serious, but she didn’t fidget. She was in the zone, ready to work, but not nervous.
He could applaud already.
The conductor lifted his hands and guided the orchestra into the first piece. Gannon heard nothing but the bass line and didn’t glance at the stage when the curtain opened and the actors made their entrance.
Adeline was performing again, all in.
In many ways, the last eight months had been the longest of his career. Because Adeline wanted to be friends while she pursued other things, he’d known they couldn’t spend hours and hours talking. Their conversations were semi-regular but never as deep as he’d like.
The ache to discuss their relationship and future grew no matter how he tried to curb it. He’d kept busy recording the new album, taping Audition Room, getting to know Miller, writing new music, the tour. The time had passed, but he was growing too tired to keep the pace much longer.
It’d gotten bad, this friend act. So many times he’d nearly ended one of their calls with an “I love you.” Wherever he went, he knew how many hours it would take to get to her—how many flights, how long each would last, how far he’d have to drive.
He regularly played the recording of Adeline’s bass line for “Phoenix.” Once John discovered that, he’d started blaming any off day Gannon had on lovesickness, and both John and Miller had been laughing at Gannon’s increasingly good mood the closer the calendar got to this trip.
“Why haven’t you married this girl yet?” Miller asked as they boarded a plane for the US, the Asian leg of the tour over.
John had smirked. “She’s just not that into him.”
Was that true? When they’d said goodbye in August, he’d expected her to invite him back into her life long before this, but here he was, just another face in the crowd.
Now, he understood how his fans felt.
He’d promised to let her break his heart one more time, and for all he knew, she would when they saw each other. She’d say he’d respected her request for space so long and so well that she’d assumed they’d both moved on. She’d introduce her new boyfriend, who would’ve attended opening night of the musical.
Okay. Not a boyfriend. That would’ve come up.
But it’d been months.
A couple of weeks ago, she’d told him she missed him at the end of one of their calls. A first. He hoped it meant she missed him like he missed her, but he hadn’t pressed to clarify in any of their conversations since. He wanted to have the discussion in person, especially given he’d already planned this trip.
Tonight, he’d find out what she’d meant. If she remained stuck on the idea of being friends, she’d never get unstuck from it. He’d have to move on.
He didn’t want to. So he’d boarded that plane in Beijing, then another plane. And another. And then he’d gotten in a rental car. On arriving in town, he’d cleaned up at the hotel. Now, here he was, absolutely spent and not sure how she’d receive him, if he should even let her know he’d come or if she’d see this as an intrusion on a process she’d asked to complete without him.
All he knew was that listening to her play felt more like rest than anything he’d experienced in a long, long time.
Adeline rolled the bass into the classroom across from the gymnasium. The case with wheels had been one of the best investments she’d made in the last year. She maneuvered around Mandy, the cellist, to fit her instrument into a corner.
Jessica cleaned her flute at a nearby desk. “Good job tonight.”
“You too.” Adeline couldn’t stop grinning. The three hours had flown by. She’d wondered if the show would tire her. They’d practiced so much that she’d feared the music might start to bore her. Instead, she felt nothing but energy.
The last time she’d felt this way had been after performing with John, Gannon, and Fitz in high school. They’d made a habit of going to an all-night pancake house after shows. Up until tonight, she’d thought that had been teenage energy at work, but now she understood it as something else. If Lakeshore had an all-night restaurant, she’d get a group together. Maybe she could talk Tegan into staying up to make a batch of pancakes at home.
“Addie, Addie, Addie.” Olivia dodged the last row of desks and clasped her arms. “You’re never going to guess who’s here. Did you know?”
Only one person would elicit this excitement from Olivia.
Gannon had come?
She’d mentioned the musical, but he’d last called from China. He hadn’t breathed a word about seeing her. She couldn’t blame him—he’d been sticking to the relationship she’d requested last fall. But she was ready for more.
So ready.
Maybe he’d lost interest, but Tegan assured her he wouldn’t keep in touch if that were true.
Finally, she’d taken matters into her own hands. Told him she missed him. A lot. Waited to see how he’d respond.
“I miss you too.” He replied quickly with warm relief, as if he’d been waiting to tell her.
They’d been ending their calls that way ever since, but nothing more had come of it.
Or so she’d thought.
Now he was here.
Olivia’s eyes got wide and worried, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “You didn’t know.”
Adeline’s stomach churned, but it was a little late to be nervous now. He’d already seen her perform. He’d sat through a three-hour, small-town rendition of a Broadway musical to hear her. “Where is he now?”
Olivia lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know where he went for intermission, and he was gone before the lights came back on at the end.”
“But you talked to him? You’re sure it’s him?”
“I didn’t talk to him, but I spent a whole summer stalking him. I’m sure.”
“Okay. Well.” She glanced at the bass. It was safely stored, and nothing kept her except how little she trusted her legs. She linked her arm with Olivia’s, and they left the classroom together.
A rolling bulletin board kept attendees from wandering into the area reserved for musicians, cast, and crew. Gannon would’ve had no qualms about sidestepping such a thing, but the hall was empty and gray, except for an eye-level line of children’s artwork. Voices carried, audience members lingering outside the gymnasium to chat. She and Olivia stepped into the crowd.
“There she is!” Tegan hustled up and threw her arms around her. “Great job! I’m so proud of you!”
Drew moved in behind Tegan, blocking Adeline’s view of the rest of the lobby. “That was excellent.”
As Tegan released her, Drew moved in for a hug too.
Olivia weaved impatiently, scanning for Gannon.
Adeline stepped back from Drew. “Thanks, you two. I appreciate you coming.”
“Of course.” Tegan tweaked her elbow and took a half step toward the door. “Shall we?”
Olivia looked about to burst as she tagged along through the doors and into the night. Cool air washed Adeline’s flushed face and bare arms, welcome relief. The gym had grown too warm toward the end of the show, and Olivia’s news had added a few more degrees of anticipation and nerves.
Olivia made no effort to be discrete about looking to either side of the door and then, when there was no Gannon, along the side of the building. Unless he’d hidden in a recessed alcove, he wasn’t there.
It’d been a little too good to be true, anyway. Adeline gave her a smile. “It’s okay, Olivia.”
“But I’m sure.”
Wishful thinking could go a long way toward a false sighting. Adeline would know. “It’s all right. He’s on tour, and I wasn’t expecting him. Have a good one, okay? Thanks for coming.”
She joined Tegan and Drew on the sidewalk, and they started on foot toward Adeline and Tegan’s house.
Technically, only Adeline owned it, though. Tegan only rented, and she was there less and less in favor of time with Drew. They’d officially call it dating one of these days. If these two got married, Tegan would move out and Adeline would either have to live alone or find a new roommate. Neither option appealed, but even without a roommate, at least she wouldn’t be completely alone. She’d adopted Bruce, and he followed her from room to room. Also, with the job at the university, she could afford the mortgage by herself.
They turned the corner, but the neighbors’ landscaping kept her from seeing her front porch until they were one house away. The tree she’d planted last fall obscured the view of the steps for a moment, but once she’d passed it, she had her answer. No one waited. With a sigh she looked toward the lake.
No good. She wouldn’t be able to see over the pottery studio to the water until she was on the porch, and it was dark, anyway.
The driver’s door on the car across the street opened.
Her body froze. Was that …?
The man who climbed from the car wore a baseball hat. The glow from the streetlight failed to illuminate his features beneath the brim, but she recognized his confident movements. Not to mention the broad shoulders and athletic form.
Gannon. Here to surprise her. Here for her show.
She dropped her purse on the sidewalk and ran across the street. When she threw her arms around his neck, he picked her up and swung her around, his laugh reverberating with hers.
He set her back on her feet and used both hands to brush her hair away from her face. “I’ve missed you.”
He was here, his voice so much richer for not being filtered over airwaves. The fabric of his shirt soft and warm beneath her fingers. Had he always smelled this wonderful? And his eyes. If only it weren’t too dark to distinguish the color of his irises.
“I thought you were in China.”
“Was I?” He focused on her so intently, she believed that he couldn’t remember where he’d been and had no interest in thinking about it. He brushed his finger along her cheek, and the night air didn’t feel so cool anymore.
If she went up on tiptoe … but she remembered Drew and Tegan. She looked over her shoulder in time to see the living room light flip on. Drew was walking away down the sidewalk.
She and Gannon were alone, but how was this supposed to work, a reunion after so much time and distance? Could they rewind to that moment on the patio, to right before she’d said the word “friends” at the worst possible moment?
He laced their hands together. “Show me this remodel I’ve heard so much about.”
Direction. Good. They could ease into it—as long as he kept holding her hand, a gentle promise that he’d come for more than a musical and a tour of the house.
“I planted a tree.”
He chuckled as they crossed the street, hands linked. “I see that. Putting down roots.”
Until now, it hadn’t occurred to her that doing such a thing here, so far from LA, could cause problems for her and Gannon. Could they be serious about each other if she wanted to live here? Or would she have to give up the home she’d only just started to love?
Still gripping his hand, she dipped to pick up her purse.
“The porch turned out nice.”
This was the first time they’d held hands this way. Maybe she shouldn’t try to plan the whole future.
She’d installed plant hooks. In June, she planned to put up hanging baskets of petunias, but since they remained empty now, she resisted pointing them out. “The painters added stripes on the woodwork that make such a difference.” She motioned, but in the dark, the navy blue accents didn’t stand against the white and sky blue the way they did in daylight.
Still, Gannon’s line of sight obediently moved over the face of the house.
They mounted the steps, and she opened the door. Bruce passed her to sit before Gannon. He scrubbed the dog’s ears, but when she moved on to the kitchen, the pair followed her.
Tegan stood at the sink, pouring herself a glass of water. Gannon retook Adeline’s hand, and Tegan’s attempt to squelch a knowing smile only half succeeded. “Gannon, long time no see. How’s life treating you?”
“Can’t complain.” He turned his head, seeming to note the refinished cabinets, the white tile on the floor and backsplash, the countertops. Chip and his crew of generous volunteers had turned her worn, dated kitchen into something sparkling and white.
Tegan chuckled as she left the room, and Adeline understood. Gannon might’ve replied to her, but would he even remember greeting her now that she was gone?
“They put on a new roof, fixed the basement wall, and patched the ceiling of the upstairs bedroom where the leak was too. But the porch and this are my favorite parts.” She lifted her hand to the room that surrounded them.
Gannon’s interest sharpened on her arm. He opened his mouth, then shut it and met her eyes, his expression full of questions.
“Oh.” She laughed nervously and rubbed the tattoo.
He turned her wrist and ran his fingers over the Hebrew characters. When she’d had the tattoo done, she’d learned how sensitive the skin on the inside of her forearm was, but his touch took it to a whole new level.
“What verse is it?”
“Psalm 33:3, about singing a new song to God and playing stringed instruments.” The ink reminded her of her renewed relationship with God and also of Gannon, though seeing how similar hers was to his confirmed how bold the decision had been. “I probably should’ve asked permission first. People will think we’re …”
He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on her, golden and blue-green and intent. “You wanted space to focus on faith and making over your life.”
Bruce shuffled up and sat, leaning against Gannon’s leg like a seventy-pound anchor.
Good dog.
“I wanted to experience what you sang about.”
His song “If I Let Her Go” had spent weeks as one of the most-played tracks on the radio. She wasn’t tired of listening to it, and she wasn’t tired of trying to realize it in her own life, but she’d come far enough alone, hadn’t she?
“Everything is much fuller now. I’ve felt alone sometimes, but I’ve also seen God answer prayers, so I know He’s holding me even when it doesn’t seem obvious.”
At some point, couldn’t God use Gannon to hold her as she fell asleep?
He pulled her to his side and wrapped an arm around her. “When I had to trust Him with you all over again, I found out how much I’d still rather do everything myself.” He inhaled, his mouth and nose against her hair. “I have to leave in the morning.”
“Already?”
He rubbed her arm, confirming without repeating the bad news.
“I was hoping we’d have more time.”
He lifted her wrist again. His thumb on the tender skin prompted an involuntary shiver he responded to by pulling her closer. “There’s something I wasn’t sure I’d tell you, but since you got matching ink …”
She let her head rest against him, and the weight of his arm around her grounded her wild hopes. What could he say that was as brazen as her tattoo?
“I’ve been watching real estate listings. Havenridge went up for sale.”
“You bought it?” She straightened to see his face.
His arm shifted on her shoulders but didn’t release. “No, I didn’t.”
“Oh.” She turned from him and braced both hands on the counter.
Of course he wouldn’t have bought it. His life was in California. This would be long distance until they were serious enough for one or the other of them to move, and since she made a lot less and had fewer people depending on her, she’d have to make the sacrifice.
Gannon covered her hand with his. “I’ve realized how sick I am of the Harpers and the Matts, of people who’d give anything for a little more fame, a little more money, another high. People who look for happiness in all the wrong places.”
She nodded. Harper had gotten engaged but was rumored to be having an affair. Matt had joined a band with three other guys who appeared to love their vices as much as Matt loved his.
“Even I did it, letting my life get too loud and complicated. I want things to be different. Quieter. This will be my last season on Audition Room, and I’m cutting down on other commitments. From here on out, I’m focusing on Awestruck and on building a life away from the noise.”
She nodded again, following, but schooling her hope.
“I mentioned the cabin because it started interesting conversations. Turns out John has wanted to move back to Wisconsin for a few years now to be closer to his family again. Two of his sisters are married, and Kate just got engaged, but he barely knows his brothers-in-law. Miller’s favorite season is winter—however that happens—and he’s got two kids he’s not crazy about raising in LA. He’s open to moving too.”
She waited for it this time, refusing to let her feelings soar and then be shot down again.
“Moving here, Adeline.” Gannon lifted her hand from the counter, turning her to face him.
“So it’s okay that I put down roots.”
He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “I wouldn’t ask you to leave this place. This house someday, but only for one with the best view of the lake we can find.”
Leave this house to be with Gannon in a house they found together? He wasn’t just talking about living in Lakeshore. He was thinking of marriage too.
He pulled her back to his side. “It wouldn’t look like it did last summer. With this as our permanent home, the guys and I would all get our own places. That’s why I passed on Havenridge. Awestruck travels a lot, but you’d be welcome to come with us.”
She tried to picture it, Gannon here year-round, attending the fall festivals, venturing to the ice caves with her in winter, getting lunch from Superior Dogs in summer, attending the little church. Locals would get used to him. If he lived the quiet life he seemed to have in mind, paparazzi probably wouldn’t bother with him. Not much, anyway. Not here.
“You would do that. Move here?”
“Well, there’s this girl …” He trailed his fingers up and down her arm. “But if you think matching tattoos make us look like a couple, me moving the band will start real talk. Then again, you did say you care more about reality than rumors.”
“And what’s the reality?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” He nudged her chin, tilting her face toward his. For once, his eyes couldn’t captivate her attention. His breath was warm on her cheek, and a smile pulled at his lips. “Tell me now you just want to be friends, and I’ll believe you.”
She held her silence, closed her eyes, and inhaled his scent. Sandalwood.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, gentle.
Was he really waiting for her to reply?
“I want so much more than that.”
He shifted, arms tightening around her. His mouth found hers. She lost track of everything else until he pulled back.
Then she found she’d moved her palm to the center of his chest. His breathing had picked up, rolling in and out like waves. His thumb was on her cheek, his hand resting on the side of her neck, the other arm still snug around her waist. He kissed her forehead and sighed.
There it was, discernible under the exhale. His heartbeat. Fast and strong.
She snuggled her head against him, listening to distinguish the sound of her heartbeat from his. “So this is what it is to live with the living.”
“Is it worth it? All the time and trouble to get here?”
“Yes.” She angled to see his expression. “And you? Is this worth the time and trouble?”
“I’d play my part again one hundred times over.” He ran his fingers from her temple to her jaw and stole another kiss. “Whatever it took to bring you back.”
Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God,
O God of my salvation,
and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness.
O Lord, open my lips,
and my mouth will declare your praise.
For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it;
you will not be pleased with a burnt offering.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.
Psalm 51:14-17, ESV