by D. Kelly
What’s the *Sigh* for? Spill …
Bethie: I think I’m ready, Sawyer.
For a baby?
Bethie: Yeah, don’t say anything to Wyatt, I want to surprise him. If we’re lucky, I could be due right when the International portion of the tour is over.
You’ll be a great mom, and you two deserve all the happiness in the world.
Bethie: What about you? Any thoughts on settling down?
Actually, yeah … can you believe it? I think I drank the Kool-Aid.
Bethie: Really? You’re ready for a wife and some kids?
I think I’m ready for the kids more than the wife, but it would be convenient to have both, I suppose.
Bethie: You’re such a jerk—besides, built-in sex is nice to have.
Only if she doesn’t always have a headache.
Bethie: Haha—I never have headaches. Wyatt on the other hand …
Don’t say anything, okay? I’m not planning or plotting or anything. I’m just slowly marinating in the idea, and I don’t hate it.
Bethie: Got it, my lips are sealed.
Want to see something cute?
Bethie: Always
I send her a selfie I took of Cadence and me earlier. She was smiling long enough to get the photo. I plan to rub it in Darren’s face later.
Bethie: OMG that is the cutest photo ever. Keep marinating in that idea, Sawyer. You’ve always been a natural with kids.
Well, I guess there are some perks for being the favorite uncle, and when I’m tired of them I can always give them back.
Bethie: Don’t tire out too soon. You’re going to be my favorite and most utilized babysitter when the time comes.
Deal. The guys are finally here so I gotta go. Love you.
Bethie: Love you too. Leave Utah with a smile and give them an encore they won’t forget.
I like that idea. Utah will always be a special place for all of us.
After everyone said their goodbyes and Noah was sufficiently satisfied that Mel was okay, we exited the buses and went inside the venue to do our sound check.
With each show, it gets a bit harder to imagine never having this again.
“It’s bittersweet, isn’t it?” Wyatt asks.
“Yes, but I’m surprised to hear it coming from you.”
Wyatt’s eyes widen. “Really?”
“Well, yeah. You and Noah wanted out.” I’m not angry anymore, just factual.
“He’s got a point,” Darren says, stopping next to me.
Noah looks at the three of us. “I’m going to miss the hell out of it.”
I take a step back and shake my head. “What?”
Darren and I exchange confounded looks, but Wyatt and Noah are smiling away. Noah offers an explanation, “That’s what you guys never understood. Just because we’re ready to move on with our lives and our wives, doesn’t mean we aren’t going to miss the hell out of performing or our time with you.”
Wyatt picks up where Noah leaves off, “These past ten years and beyond have been the absolute best and worst times of our lives, but we wouldn’t change anything. How many people get to experience what we have with their family? The highs and lows, our successes and failures, traveling the world, and the people closest to me were a part of it all. That’s a life well-lived, for real.”
Too bad Warren isn’t here yet. He’d enjoy this.
Noah throws his arm across my shoulder. “I know I’ve been boring you guys to death about the bad feeling I’ve had since all that Sara shit went down. I’m trying to let it go. I’m so excited for Nate to get here, there’s just no room in my heart or my head to keep worrying about this shit. I still haven’t mentioned it to Mel because she doesn’t need that kind of stress.”
Noah and I have had many talks about his fears. I’ll admit, I’ve been concerned because he couldn’t let it go, but it seems like he’s finally in a good place.
“If you’re worried, don’t hide it. But if you’re legitimately happy, I’m relieved to hear it.”
“Thanks, Sawyer.” Noah looks between us. “I’m feeling optimistic and happy. Everything I’ve ever wanted has come to fruition. Plus, we’ll be able to tell the girls about The Sunshine Project soon. We’re doing great things, things that will make an impact for years to come. Once we open our label and start helping some Indie bands find their way and avoid the pitfalls of big-label contracts, I think we’ll be putting our expertise to good use.”
We finish our sound check, and I feel lighter somehow. Noah and Wyatt’s words really affected me tonight. Maybe they’re the same words they’ve been saying all along and I was finally able to hear them. For the first time in a long time, I think I can look to the future with happiness instead of dread. These guys aren’t going anywhere. Our landscape may change, but we will all be together for years to come.
“Hey, guys, I was talking to Anna earlier, and she reminded me why Utah has always been special to us.”
Darren cups his hand around his mouth and calls out, “Rhymin’ Rieanne.”
“Exactly,” I say with a smile. “Anna had a great idea. She suggested we do an encore tonight to end all encores. We don’t have any fancy equipment or lights or anything, but we could do a few extra songs, really work them up. What do you say?”
Noah’s yawn reflects how tired we all are, but maybe this will be invigorating. “I’m down. Other than trying to knock my wife into labor, I have no other plans but to sleep tonight.”
“Yeah, like you’re going to sleep with Mel tossing and turning. Good luck with that.” Noah flips Darren off, and we all laugh. I think I’m going to miss our random banter most of all.
“The offer still stands. It’s been a long time since the five of us have crammed onto the same bus and had a guys’ night. They’ll be right behind us. If anything happens, we can easily stop.” Wyatt flashes Noah his puppy dog eyes—like those can compare to fucking his wife.
“Good try, Wyatt, but I’m going to stick it out on the bus with Mel. Besides, I like the whole idea of having sex to induce labor. I’d be ecstatic if she had Nate on our day off and I didn’t have to constantly worry she’s having contractions and trying to push through till we get back from a show.”
I nod. “She would do that. I can totally picture it.”
“Yup, and that’s why I’m going to stay on my bus with my wife. You guys have a couple of shots for me though.”
“Like he even had to ask,” Darren says, but the joke is really on him because he knows he won’t be drinking while he’s got Cadence tonight.
The crowd was one of the most responsive we’ve had in a while, and they practically brought down the house with the encore. Our assistant passes out towels as we step off the stage.
“That was incredible, but I am so tired,” Noah says, smiling.
“Look at Noah showing his age. Are you even going to be able to get it up tonight?” Darren teases as he yawns.
“And yet I’m not the only one yawning.”
“But I don’t have to go home and perform any husbandly duties,” Darren counters.
“Only fatherly ones,” Wyatt quips. “I wonder which ones are harder?”
Darren narrows his eyes and busts up laughing. “When did we get this old? Back in the day, we’d be off to a party for a night filled with drinking and fucking, and if we didn’t sleep, we’d drink an energy shot and do it all again the next day.”
Damn, he’s got a valid fucking point there. We’re not even thirty yet.
“It’s the music,” Wyatt says, “not our age.”
I whip my head toward him. “Come again?”
He turns to me. “We’re singing all the songs slower, acoustic, and unplugged. We’re not getting the adrenalin high. We only break a sweat due to the lighting, not because we’re running all over the stage anymore. I’ve thought it was a nice way to transition out of the touring mindset. Almost like weaning off a drug.”
Well, shit …
“So we’re not old, we
’re just touring like old fogies. Good to know.” At least it sort of makes sense now.
“We could do one more high-energy show,” Noah offers, and we all look to him with questioning gazes.
My heart races at even the hint of a big performance. “What are you suggesting?”
“The tornado fundraiser. We do one of our old sets. That’s coming up in the next few months, right?”
Darren grins, Wyatt nods, and I’m … completely down with the idea. We each toss out a fist, and Noah counts us down.
“Bastards and Dangerous on three. One, two, three.”
The After
There isn’t a part of my body, heart, or soul that isn’t in unimaginable pain. It’s only been four days since the accident. Four days since I made promises to Noah I have no idea how to keep. Four days since my brother begged for my help.
I’ve relived every choice we made, every step we took, and considered all the alternate decisions we could have made. We could have sent the girls to Darren’s bus; we should have. The lead bus is always in the most dangerous position. But the highways are open, and an accident could have happened anywhere down the line, yet I can’t stop thinking about the what ifs.
Noah is gone, Belle is gone, Harold is gone. All their kids are now missing a parent, and the youngest one has been tucked into the crook of my arm for days. His breathing has synced with mine, and I already know his cry, the way his chest shudders before he cries, the way his gorgeous eyes peer into mine as if I have answers for him about his parents. But I don’t—I don’t have any answers at all. The only thing I can do for Nate right now is love him enough for all of us.
When I haven’t been crying in a corner, I’ve been trying to do what Noah would in this situation. Because the hospital is under siege from all forms of media, the staff can’t get in or out easily. I feel responsible, and since cafeteria food is shit, I’ve been having their meals catered in—it’s the least we can do. Eli and Sam have helped arrange food trucks for the fans outside, but we’re footing the bill for them too.
Mel and I have had a few moments of shared grief, and her pain spears through mine, intensifying it. I hurt for all of us, but Princess has lost so much in such a short time. She’s terrified to hold her son, and I can’t make her. Deep inside, maybe I don’t want to because the longer she holds off, the longer I get to hold on to the last piece of Noah I have left. Once she recovers from this, she’ll take him away, go somewhere to get a fresh start, and I will do whatever it takes to make her realize she’s as much a part of our family as Nate is. Now and always. Even one day, when she finds someone new, we’ll make him part of our family too—anything not to lose more of our tribe.
I’m not sure I’ve even slept, or if any of us have. We’re walking zombies. As I follow Mac up the steps to the private jet with Nate’s car seat in my arms, all the weariness hits me like a freight train. I snap him in between my parents and join Mel in the back of the plane. She hates flying, and as the plane begins to take off down the runway, she clutches the armrest to the point it must be painful.
Gently, I peel her fingers away and lace them in mine before leaning back in my seat and closing my eyes. I promised Noah I’d take care of them, and I will. This is only the beginning.
Later that evening, I was able to sit down long enough to order Mel a new computer and phone. I also put in a few calls to find out about getting her a replacement wedding album. Watching her break down over their photos was heartbreaking, and I know Noah would have moved heaven and earth to make things right for her.
Over the next few days, the house was filled with a constant flow of people. Trying to get in and out of the house was a logistical nightmare. Everyone wanted a statement, exclusive footage, whatever they could get. I saw my house on T.V. enough that I seriously considered contacting a realtor. That was a joke though; I’d never sell this house, it’s where all my memories of Noah are.
Today is Noah and Belle’s funeral. As much as it pained me, I couldn’t go to Harold’s funeral. Not wanting to draw more unnecessary media attention to them was the deciding factor. Instead, I had a heartfelt talk with Harold’s wife and kids, and Warren and Sam went to the services to represent all of us. Harold’s family doesn’t blame us, but I feel responsible. They’re just as worried for us as we are for them. It’s strange how that works.
In the two weeks since the accident, I feel like I’ve aged thirty years. I’ve already decided everyone needs to go home after the funeral. Darren, Mel, and I have to talk about what comes next and how we’re going to move forward and we can’t do it with a house full of people.
I walk across the hall to Mel’s room. She’s barely been responsive. It kills me to see her all battered and bruised, but it hurts more knowing how broken she is on the inside and there’s nothing I can do to help.
She’s still sleeping on the same sheets they slept on last time they were here. She’s still got Noah’s dirty shirt on her bed that she curls up with each night and sniffs wistfully. I’d give anything to bring him back for her and Nate, but we’ve got to figure out a way to say goodbye.
“Ready, Mel?”
She stares out the window at the rain falling into the ocean before turning toward me. Veronica did a good job helping her get ready. Everything is a struggle for her right now with all her injuries and her cast. As much as I hate to see her in pain, I’m thankful she’s still with us when we could have easily lost her and Nate too.
“I’ll never be ready for this.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling. Look, I wanted you to know all the non-essentials are going home tonight. It’s time we have some space and figure out what to do with Nate or how it’s going to work when everyone isn’t around. He needs some kind of normal, Mel. It’s time.” Maybe this isn’t the right time to tell her this, but I want to prepare her and help her. I know my family overwhelms her on a good day.
“Whatever you think is best, Sawyer. This is your home.”
Why is she still stuck on this? I need her to feel comfortable here; she can’t take Nate away from us too.
“Don’t do that. This is our home. What was Noah’s is now yours, of that I’m sure. I … Fuck, this is hard. I need you here, Mel, okay? If you guys aren’t here, I can’t be either. Not alone without Noah. I meant it when I said we’re in this together for as long as it takes.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I take her hand and help her out to the limo. Each step is a process for her, but I’ll go as slow as she needs. Nothing will start without us anyway. Once inside, she closes her eyes and doesn’t open them again until we reach the church.
We’re the last to arrive, and we enter through the back door. Security leads us inside, and the church ushers lead us to the first two rows. My focus is on Mel, but it’s hard not to be distracted by Noah and Belle’s caskets side by side and their happy faces looking out from the photos perched next to the closed caskets.
Mel is out of my arms in an instant, sobbing as she moves toward her husband and best friend. Her steps are gradual but determined. I move off to the side, and Anna catches my eye and inclines her head in Mel’s direction.
Mel leans over Belle’s casket and kisses it. Sniffles and sobs scatter throughout the room. She whispers something and turns to Noah’s casket. Lying over it with the top half of her body, she becomes silent. I move closer and hover a few feet behind her.
When she puts her ear to the casket, I know we’re in trouble. Whatever was left of my heart shatters, but I must be strong for her. I will not break my promise to Noah. Not today.
“Princess, let me take you back to your seat.”
“No, Sawyer. I’m trying to listen. I can’t hear it, but if I listen really hard I might be able to.”
Oh God…
“What are you listening for?”
“His heartbeat, Sawyer. Why can’t I hear it anymore?”
My mom’s cries are the loudest, but the others are beginning to follow in rapid succession.
In an instant, I scoop her into my arms and carry her from the chapel to the visitors’ room. Tears stream down my cheeks, and my arms are shaking. I’m scared. She won’t stop asking me why she can’t hear him, and I wonder if she’s lost her grip on reality. Maybe by talking to her, I can bring her back to us. I have to try. After setting her on the couch, I drop to my knees in front of her, suit be damned. When I take her hand in mine, she looks me in the eye.
“Why, Sawyer?”
“I don’t know, Mel, but he’s gone, and he’s never coming back.”
Saying those words to her makes it all suddenly sink in. My head falls into her lap, and my tears begin to fall. Surprisingly, she lays herself over me and cries with me. Together, we’re a wrecking ball of grief and pain, but crying in her arms somehow makes me feel less alone in all of this.
There’s a knock at the door, and I hear Mac's voice before I turn to look at him. “They’re starting. Do you two want to come back out or …” Mac looks to me for guidance, but I leave the choice up to her.
“What do you want to do, Mel?”
“I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
Well, so much for that.
“I’m not sure I want to go back out there, but I’m pretty sure Noah would do it for me. I can’t go alone, Mel, so I’ll stay here with you if you’re not okay.”
“I’m not okay, I’ll likely never be okay again.” She turns her head to the window and watches as the rain picks up in intensity and turns into a storm outside.