Hammers, Strings, and Beautiful Things
Page 27
The ringing sang in my ear, I closed my eyes, listening to each unanswered ring forcing my stomach to sink further.
“Hello?”
My eyes shot open to Reagan still monitoring me, and silence squeezed itself into the phone line as I wondered if that was the same voice as the one I barely listened to in Louisville.
My throat caught my breath. “Hi, um, is this Jason?”
Reagan’s eyes widened.
“Yes?” he responded hesitantly in his deep voice with the faintest Southern drawl. “Who’s this?”
I exhaled the deep breath. There was no turning back now. “This is Blair. Your, um, your daughter.”
The silence grew thicker this time, as if all the stakes sang in a muted chorus. My heart thrummed in my chest, and a ball of nerves evolved in my throat.
“Oh, hi, Blair,” he said, and I swear I could hear his smile. “Wow, I wasn’t expecting your call.”
I nervously scratched the back of my head. “Yeah, um, I guess I gave no good warning.”
“No, it’s a good surprise, though. I think?”
“Yeah, it’s a good surprise, I think too. Um…I know it’s been a few months, but…um…” I sighed and ran my fingers through my knotty morning hair. “Look, I was an asshole when we first met. I wasn’t really in the best state of mind, so you were kind of doomed from the get-go. But I’ve gained a lot of perspective since then, probably similar to the perspective you gained since college. The truth is, I always wondered why I wasn’t good enough for you. Almost every day, even if I tried so hard to deny those feelings, they were still there. Maybe March wasn’t the best time for us to meet because my life was kinda messed up, but now that I think I have a better handle on things, I’d like to at least try. To know you, that is. If you’re still interested, and if you’re not, I totally understand, and if you want nothing to do with me, I won’t hold a grudge—”
He chuckled. “Of course I’d like that. Yes, I’m still interested. I’ve seen a lot in my life, so an angry musician doesn’t really make the list of things to run away from. Sorry to disappoint.”
His comment warranted a smile, and Reagan’s eyebrows drew together.
“Okay, cool. So, um, my band is going on tour, starting next week actually, so this is really last minute, but I’ll be playing in Louisville—”
“That’s not a problem at all. I can clear up any day that I have plans.”
His comment stopped my words dead in their tracks. I frowned and was just as confused as how Reagan looked. “Really?”
“What’s more important than this?”
“I mean, I don’t know. I’m sure I could figure out something.”
“The answer is nothing. So, go on, what day were you thinking?”
“Right, yeah, um, the show. I have a show in Louisville on the tenth, and I was wondering if you wanted to come. I promise not to sing any Kelly Clarkson songs this time.”
He laughed again. “Well, if that’s the case, then I’d love to.”
I grinned and then gave Reagan’s hand another squeeze. “Great! I was thinking maybe you can come to sound check; we can grab dinner, I can pay for your hotel if you didn’t want to drive back.”
“I’m up for anything, Blair. Really. I’m just glad you reached out.”
“Yeah, me too. And I’m sorry for everything I said and did last time.”
“It’s all right. No hard feelings. It’s water under the bridge.”
“Cool. Well, I’ll let you go. I’ll stay in contact with you and reach out again closer to the show. You have my number now, so feel free to reach out whenever.”
“Right back at you. I’m really looking forward to it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“Have a good one, Blair.”
And once the line went dead, I let out the breath that collected in my chest. Reagan squeaked and tossed her arms around me, rewarding me with a kiss attack all over my face.
“Babe! I’m so so happy for you!” she said and cupped my face, planting a long kiss on my lips.
When she pulled away, I couldn’t control my grin. I did it. One of the scariest things I’d ever had to do, and I did it. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe the man I resented for so long wanted to be in my life. I couldn’t believe the man I flipped out on in Louisville still didn’t run away from getting to know me. I couldn’t believe I had plans with my father in a week and a half.
This was so weird. Did I call him Jason? Did I call him Dad? Was “Dad” even a real word because when I said it over and over again in my head, it didn’t sound like a real word.
“Wow, this is really crazy,” I said.
“But a good crazy.”
I looked down at her to find her hopeful eyes staring up at me. I kissed her nose. “Yeah, good crazy.”
My life was nowhere near perfect. I still walked around with a hole vacant from my wonderful grandparents who raised me, who taught me everything about life and love that I needed to learn. Those holes would never be fully filled again, but they could be patched up, and that was what they would have wanted for me. For the first time in my life, my brain was at ease, as if what was once a constant current of swells finally simmered down to a calm ripple, the kind of ripples I peacefully fell asleep to on a noise machine. I’d never seen my mom happier in her own place, spending lots of time finding her own hobbies other than working, schoolwork, and either taking care of me or taking care of one of her sick parents. I’d never seen a person other than Grandma and Gramps who made her smile as much as Greg did. My music career was only starting to launch, and I was so in love with a girl. A wonderful girl. A girl who made me excited for all the unknowns because as long as it was with her, it would all be wonderful.
Reagan nestled her head into my neck and kissed me softly underneath my jaw as she wrapped her arm around my chest. With a long kiss on her forehead, breathing in the smell of her fruity body wash, I exhaled a deep, contented sigh as I continued to gaze at the hills surrounding me and enjoyed all the beautiful things that I had in my life. There were a lot, and in that moment, I didn’t want a breath from it all anymore because I was overwhelmed in the best possible way. I wanted to enjoy all of it.
I was eager to keep going. And I would keep going.
About the Author
Morgan Lee Miller started writing at the age of five in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio, where she entertained herself by composing her first few novels all by hand. She majored in journalism and creative writing at Grand Valley State University.
When she’s not introverting and writing, Morgan works for an animal welfare nonprofit and tries to make the world a slightly better place. She previously worked for an LGBT rights organization.
She currently resides in Washington, DC, with her two feline children, whom she’s unapologetically obsessed with.
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