CHAPTER FORTY-ONE


It was too late to call or text when I crawled into bed after saying goodnight to Sebastian, so I grabbed my laptop and emailed Ani, telling her all about the events of the night. I didn’t know how I was going to fall asleep at all, so after I sent off the missive filled with tons of exclamation points and capital letters and goofy emojis, I crept downstairs and slipped outside into the backyard, a blanket wrapped around me. Instead of lying on the lawn, I lowered my blankety bulk onto a swing. Swaying a little side-to-side, I gazed up at the stars, but this time, I didn’t count them.

I thought about Sebastian. And his kisses. His big body wrapped around mine. The rough texture of his working-man’s hands, the rasp of his jaw beneath my fingertips. The way he smelled, the rumble of his voice inside his chest, the warmth of his breath against my skin when he whispered my name.

“Thank you,” I said out loud, my face lifted, my eyes closed. I didn’t need to explain to God what I was thankful for. He already knew.

My phone buzzed in my bra and I smiled giddily, knowing already who it was.

SebastianJack: You still awake?

JollyRockerTBird: I am. I considered changing his ID, but it made me giggle so I decided to leave it be for now. It was also a good reminder that I still needed some questions answered about those months we spent not speaking to each other. I wondered for a moment what things would be like now if we’d started this back in January.

SebastianJack: I can’t sleep so I’m counting stars.

I’d never told anyone about my star obsession other than Ani, although I’m pretty sure my folks figured it out. I never hid what I was doing, lying out there with my arm extended, pointing up into the sky, and the one time my dad asked who I was talking to, I’d said, “God,” and he’d nodded and gone back inside. I’d see them watching me from a window, just checking up on me, I assumed, but they’d been sensitive enough to my quirks to leave me alone with the creator of the universe.

JollyRockerTBird: I love that song, you know. I’m sitting on my swing in the backyard. Counting blessings.

SebastianJack: I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow. I’d be there now.

JollyRockerTBird: Ah. But remember that man you met the other day? The one who introduced himself as my father?

SebastianJack: Yeeeees?

I smiled, hearing him say the word all drawn out exactly as he’d written it.

JollyRockerTBird: He likes to know I’m home at night. ALONE. Helps him sleep better.

SebastianJack: Sounds like a good dad.

JollyRockerTBird: You’re not going to bug me about being old enough to make my own decisions? About being an adult who can do whatever she wants? I knew what his answer would be without having to ask, but I’d been challenged before by guys I’d gone out with a few times who didn’t care for my parents’ house rules. I didn’t care for the rules in the heat of the moment, either, truth be told, but in the light of the following day, I was always grateful I’d said no. And I appreciated the fact that my parents had assured me that I could blame them if I needed to. I didn’t blame them; I gave them credit for wanting to protect me and my passion-driven heart.

SebastianJack: Sounds like a very adult decision you’ve made in respecting your parents’ wishes. And I respect your choice to do so. Was this guy for real?

JollyRockerTBird: Can you talk?

SebastianJack: I can’t. Sorry. Don’t want to wake my dad.

JollyRockerTBird: That’s fine. Can I ask you a question?

SebastianJack: Anything.

Anything. Okay. I took a deep breath and keyed in the question I longed to know the answer to.

JollyRockerTBird: Why were you so mean to me in class?

I watched the three dots telling me he was texting appear… and then disappear. Twice. What on earth would he say? I couldn’t stand it.

SebastianJack: Tish, that’s a tough question to answer in a text. Can we talk about it later? I’ll try to explain, but I think it would be better in person. I’ll call you tomorrow evening after I get off work.

No! Not fair. So close, but no bananas. How on earth was I supposed to wait until tomorrow night?

JollyRockerTBird: Okay. What else was I supposed to say?

SebastianJack: I can tell you this though. I regret it more than you can possibly know. If I could do things over, it would all be different.

JollyRockerTBird: That helps a little. But just so you know, curiosity kills. If you call me tomorrow night and I don’t answer, know that I died of curiosity, alone with my unanswered questions. And it will be your fault.

SebastianJack: Wow. You really know how to land a sucker punch.

JollyRockerTBird: Four brothers. Count ‘em.

SebastianJack: I’ve met two and I think that’s enough for me.

JollyRockerTBird: Nope. Remember what you said about Alejandro? You want me, you get my brothers. My parents. My band. My neighbors. My world. We’re a package deal.

SebastianJack: Wow. That’s a big package.

JollyRockerTBird: Yep. Think you can handle it? ALL of it? ALL of us? Please say yes.

SebastianJack: I plan on giving it my best shot. I hugged my phone to my chest and made a tiny “Squee!” noise up at the stars.

SebastianJack: Tish, I need to sleep. Unloading hay delivery tomorrow first thing in the morning. Less than four hours from now.

JollyRockerTBird: Oh gosh. I’m sorry I’ve kept you. Call me tomorrow after work?

SebastianJack: I will. Maybe you can come with me to see Foster?

JollyRockerTBird: I’d love that!

SebastianJack: Goodnight Titia.

JollyRockerTBird: Goodnight Sebastian.

***

Sebastian didn’t call all day. Nor did he answer my call. Or my texts. I tried not to worry. I tried not to be angry. Or hurt. Instead, I ended up in a terrible combination of all three.

Around seven PM, my phone rang, but it wasn’t Sebastian.

“Hey Tom. How are you feeling?” He must have suffered the hangover from hell today.

“I’ve been better,” he admitted. “How are you?”

“I’ve been worse,” I said honestly. He was quiet for several seconds before he continued.

“I’m sorry I was such a pig last night. Will you forgive me?”

“Already have, Tom.” I wondered how much he remembered. I hope it was enough to know he’d had a good time. At least on stage with us. “You really were amazing last night, you know.”

Tom snorted loudly in my ear. “About that.”

“About what?” But I was already laughing. Tom was not a mean drunk, but contrary to popular belief, alcohol rarely made anyone any smarter, and Tom would make a rather endearing poster child for that campaign.

“Thanks for the nickname, you little bilge rat.”

“Um. You deserved it after that little stunt. I could have called you something a lot worse, you know. I have a lot of pirate trash talk on tap.”

“I bow to your superior self-control. But you are missing out. I stand by that.” Oh, but I wasn’t. Sebastian was more than enough for me and my heart to handle. That is, if he was around to handle. Or to at least call me or text me.

“You’re right, Tom. I’m missing out,” I conceded with feigned resignation. I changed subjects, just in case he decided to ask me what I’d done instead. “So what are you doing tonight? Packing?”

“Wanna come over and hang out? I’ll even watch Across the Universe with you. I know you must be missing Ani.” I sighed softly, remembering anew the things that made Tom such a great guy, a great friend. Things that would make him a great boyfriend to someone one day, hopefully soon. He really was thoughtful, at least when he wasn’t drunk. And he genuinely cared about people. I think that’s why he never went home with any of the women who threw themselves at him—in a backhanded kind of way, he cared enough to remember that morning always came, and in many cases, it carried with it a bucketful of cold regrets. And that was a terrible way to wake up.

“I’d love to. Need food? Mom made Chicken Alfredo with broccoli. There’s leftover salad and bread, too, if you want it.” I’d already packaged up a box of food to take with us to see Foster, but since Sebastian had most likely gone to see him without me, I might as well offer it to Tom.

“That’d be great. Haven’t eaten much today besides soup and crackers, and now I’m starving.”

“Can you give me half an hour?” I wanted to try Sebastian one more time.

“See you by eight, okay?”

“Sounds good.”