A Love Ballad: A Fictional Memoir (Song for You Book 3)

by Megan Rivers

  “And the newest member of the family,” Trey said, adjusting the blue and white striped hat on the baby's head in his wife's arms. “Van Jameson.”

  “Turned down Ringo again, Leah?” Galvin joked.

  “And John, and Paul, and George,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Want to hold him?”

  Galvin didn't hesitate to take his nephew and cradled him in his arms, rocking back and forth when Van squirmed. “Sit down,” Trey instructed, motioning to a cushioned swing beside him. “Want some lemonade?”

  So, yes, I drank lemonade on the family-friendly premises of Trey Kismet. The wild and crazy Trey Kismet.

  I told him about my work and he told me about their Maui wedding in August, 2002. “I thought you guys were going to get married long before me,” Trey interjected into his story, pointing to Galvin, who sat beside me still bonding with his nephew, and me with a nod. “Are you back together?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “No,” Galvin said before I could open my mouth. “We're just friends now.”

  When Trey looked at me, I nodded in agreement, but it didn't sit right with me. “My fiance died about a year and a half ago,” I offered. “Galvin's been helping me get through it.”

  Trey studied Galvin for a moment then turned to me and said, “I'm sorry to hear that.”

  Changing the subject, I asked, “What do you do now?”

  He took a drink from his sweating glass. “Not much. I do some consulting, some collaborating, some mixing, some producing. I keep telling Galvin we should have a reunion or record something new.”

  Galvin shook his head politely, still cradling Van. I could tell he wanted to talk about anything else but music. “Talk to him, will you?” Trey asked me.

  I smiled and asked him about his house and his kids, which gave Trey a monopoly on the conversation. As Trey talked, Galvin lightly tapped my thigh with the foot that crossed his knee. It was his way of saying thank you.

  After a dinner of hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill, Galvin and I thought it was about time to leave. “Christie! You're going? What about our squirt gun fight?” Phoenix said pouting his lips. He was going to break hearts one day.

  “How about I come visit again, and I'll bring the best water gun I can find. You and me against your dad and Uncle Grumpy?” I asked, crouching down to his eye level.

  He erupted in laughter and gave me a high five. “Deal!”

  Lexi warmed up enough to give Galvin a hug, but still peered at me from between Leah's legs.

  “Come back, soon,” Leah said, giving me a hug.

  Trey hugged me tighter than expected. “You take good care of yourself,” he said in the hug. When he released, he added, “And call me if you need a break from this guy.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder towards Galvin.

  I gave him a thumbs up and said, “You got it.”

  As I walked out the front door, I saw Trey speak to Galvin in German and gave him that firm brotherly hug, with two hearty pats on the back. It was the first time I realized that they were as close as Meadow and I.

  When we merged onto the interstate, the sun was beginning to set. Galvin cleared his throat, which made me look at his profile. “I want to thank you again for coming,” he said.

  “It's no biggie,” I waved my hand. “It was kind of cool to see Trey again... and surreal.”

  Galvin laughed. “I know what you mean. I never would have pegged him for a family man.”

  After a few minutes of Bill Withers playing softly on the radio, I had to ask, “I've been wondering... what have you been doing since you got out of rehab all those years ago? What do you do?”

  Galvin tapped his thumb on the steering wheel for a few beats. “Nothing, really. I was living in L.A. for a few years. After Phoenix was born, I hung out with Trey a lot.” He laughed then. “When Phoenix first started talking, he couldn't say 'Uncle Galvin' so Trey called me 'Uncle G', but when Phoenix said it, it came out as 'hunk of cheese'.”

  I laughed at that. He seemed to really miss that little dude. “He's a cool kid,” I agreed. “What made you move to New York if everyone's in L.A.?”

  He bit his bottom lip as the headlights from the oncoming traffic became more pronounced, traveling over his face. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you. You really needed a friend and in my head it was a way to make amends.”

  “Oh.” I could tell he missed his nephew and I felt guilty. “I didn't know that.” I chewed on this information for a while. “Well, I'm okay now. You don't have to stay in New York any longer... if you don't want to.”

  Call me crazy, but I got used to having him around. He had become a really good friend and the selfish part of me wished he'd stay.

  He smiled meekly. After two more songs drifted out of the radio, he spoke again. “You've helped me more than you think over the past year.”

  That didn't seem right. “How?”

  “Before I moved to New York I would wake up everyday and fit myself into Trey's life. You gave me a purpose—and don't take that the wrong way. You just... you helped me build my own life.”

  “Well, I'm glad I was good for something,” I said lightly. “What do you plan on doing next?”

  “I'm still trying to work through this Hollywood thing, Christie. Honestly, I haven't played in years.”

  “But why? It used to make you so happy.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through this hair, still keeping his eyes on the road. “Because I know I'll fall in love with it all over again. The feel of the strings on my finger tips, that rush of excitement when lyrics fit together... getting lost in the euphoria of making music.”

  “Why is that such a bad thing?”

  “Because then I think this time it'll be different and I'll record new music and have to fall into the Hollywood scene all over again. And it's not fun. I don't think I can take the pressure and the expectations.”

  “Oh.” His words hung in the air. Galvin living without music? That's like a fish living without water. A human without air. Meadow without Oreos. “Well, if it helps any, I'm here for you.”

  He smiled meekly as we exited the interstate. “It helps.”

  XV.

  Lumberjack Metaphors

  “Better Than Before” – Firefly

  Galvin and I arrived back to New York and fell into our old routines. We'd have our Pizza Friday's and sometimes plan something during the week. When December appeared on the calendar we made plans to celebrate in different parts of the country. He was going to spend two weeks in California and I was going to spend a few days in Chicago.

  Long after the sun set on Christmas day, Meadow and Kevin sat snoozing in front of the TV as a funny Christmas movie played in the background. Kevin sat in his brown chair, his reading glasses drooped down his nose. Meadow, on the other hand, was lying on the other end of the couch, her one leg in my lap and the other on the coffee table. Oreo crumbs gathered on her shirt.

  As I was about to doze off, my phone vibrated in my pocket. Seeing it was Galvin's number, I gingerly moved Meadow's foot from my lap and crept down the hall into the kitchen and the walls danced in the television light.

  “Hello! Merry Christmas!” I greeted as I sat on a stool at the kitchen island.

  “Happy Christmas!” he said and I imagined him smiling. His voice was full of optimism and happiness, like he had just heard wonderful news. “How is your holiday?”

  “Oh good. We just got home about an hour ago. We went to Kevin's brother's house, which was a long drive, but some of them I haven't seen since the New Year's party—the one you went to, remember?”

  “Yes! Is he having one this year?”

  “No,” my voice became somber. “He hasn't had one since Mom died. They tried, the year after, but it was too hard... on everyone.”

  “I'm sorry that I brought it up. I don't mean to bring you down on Christmas.”

  “Oh no, it's okay. Tell me about your day, you seem like you had a good Christmas.”

  “It was good,
nothing special. Leah's parents came over to watch Phoenix and Lexi open presents, then we ate roast duck. Tomorrow I'm taking Phoenix to Disneyland, he's really into Wreck it Ralph.”

  I smiled. “That sounds like a lot of fun! I have to fly back to New York tomorrow, but I would rather go to Disneyland.”

  “We should do something fun when I get back.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “I don't know. You've lived in New York for a while now, what's something you've always wanted to do?”

  I thought about it. I already went to the touristy places like the Empire State Building, Central Park, the museums, Broadway, Times Square... “Oh! You'll be back for New Years, right?”

  “Mm-hmm,” he said, I could hear Phoenix in the background.

  “Let's go watch the ball drop in Time's Square! That always looked like fun!”

  “If that's what you want, I'm on board!” Galvin was quiet for a few moments and then said, “Sorry, but someone wants to speak with you, hold on.”

  I could hear voices mumbling in the background. “Chrissss-TEE!” It was Phoenix's voice, and it sounded as if he had had a lot of sugar. “Where are you? Why aren't you here? It's Christmas!”

  “Sorry, buddy. I'm with my own family for Christmas.”

  “You have a family? That's so cool!” Then his voice sounded farther away and I could tell he wasn't speaking into the phone. “Uncle G, why aren't you with Christie? Isn't she your family?”

  It was hard to hear Galvin's reply, but I made out the end when he said, “Say good-bye, your mom wants you to go to bed.”

  “Okay,” Phoenix said then he returned to the phone. “Christie? I have to go to bed now, but before I do I wanted to let you know that I got a Spiderman squirt gun for Christmas and if you come visit me again, I'll let you play with it. It's really cool, so you should come soon.”

  “You got it, pal.”

  “Okay, bye! Merry Christmas!”

  Before I could say good night, Galvin was on the phone again. “The second I showed up he asked about you. Every day he asks me if you're coming over. I think you've got yourself an admirer.”

  I laughed nervously, not sure how to respond. I heard the closing credits to the movie playing and movement in the living room. The clock on the microwave said it was close to midnight. “I guess I better go too. You're still on for New Year's, right?”

  “Of course! I'll be back in New York Saturday.”

  “I'll try to leave you some pizza.”

  “Oh, you are a kind soul.” He was being sarcastic and I chuckled. We both knew there wouldn't be any pizza left over.

  “Have fun at Disney tomorrow.” It was hard to picture Galvin at Disneyland, but Phoenix had a way of keeping Galvin from his stoic cloak of no emotion when he was in public.

  “Be safe heading back. Text me when you land,” he said.

  “You got it. Merry Christmas, Galvin.”

  “Merry Christmas, Christie.”

  The next day Meadow drove me to the airport, since she wasn't leaving until that evening. The car ride was abnormally quiet, even with Katy Perry playing in the background. Meadow was bundled up in her parka, with a few curls poking out of her stocking cap and her right hand hovered over the plastic coffee mug in the cup holder, while the other gripped the steering wheel.

  “What's up with you?” I asked. She wasn't acting like herself; she would at least be bobbing her head and lip-synching the chorus.

  Her eyes traveled from the dashboard to me, through her wayfarer sunglasses, and back to the road. “You're okay in New York?” she asked, I could almost see her physically dancing around the subject in my head.

  I nodded.

  “I mean... I just...” she stopped and started her sentence a few times before biting her bottom lip and sighing.

  Finally, she took a deep breath and put both hands on the steering wheel, speaking more to the odometer than to me. “I don't want to upset you. I love you, and I don't want to hurt you. I just... I overheard part of your conversation last night... with Galvin.”

  “I—“ I meant to cut her off, but she spoke louder, and sat up straighter, sneaking a glance at me before staring straight ahead to speak.

  “I know it was rude, but Stie, you sounded so happy. It hurt me that you were that happy.

  “And don't take that the wrong way—I just know your history with him. I know how much he hurt you before. I mean, he hurt all of us when he hurt you. I don't want to see you go through that again.”

  Her words came out faster now, like she was scared of them. “I feel so guilty that I wasn't there when Antony died, that I let Galvin back into your life—not that I control your life—but you were in so much pain and it was the best thing I could do for you at the time. I don't want him to hurt you again, because then it would be my fault... I would of hurt you too.”

  After a few moments of watching the window shield wiper streak across the window as we sped by the expressway signs, I struggled to put my thoughts into words. Meadow sat tensely in the driver's seat, hardly moving.

  “I'm not mad, Mead. I love you for everything you've done for me. Sometimes you're like my big sister and sometimes you're like my little sister.” Meadow smiled. “I love these big-sister-moments, but I've made my own decisions too. You, of all people, know more about our history, how hurt and mad I was at him; how I never thought I would forgive him... But you gave me the opportunity to learn forgiveness and how to give second chances.

  “I'm truly sorry you were hurt by him too. I wish there was a way you could see what I see in him, but it will take time. And if he hurts me, he hurts me: life goes on. It will hurt, but that's life. But I don't think he will; he has changed. He's like the Galvin I met on the plane... just slightly damaged. Besides, we're just friends now.”

  Meadow lifted her eyebrow and, briefly glancing at me, asked, “Are you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Why are you pushing this?”

  “Because last night I heard a version of you that I hadn't heard in years. You were strong, confident... happy. Not that you haven't been happy in a long time. Whenever you talked about Antony you had this twinkle in your eye. You guys were neutral. With Galvin it's constantly a scale that tips in one direction or the other, like you rely on each other, like...” she pierced her lips together to gather her thoughts.

  “You know in those old cartoons where the lumberjacks cut down trees and they used a saw with two sides? Like one person pulled and the other pushed, then vice versa? That's like you and Galvin: you have to push and pull each other to get through life, to help each other out. There is no 'I'm strong and you're weak' in that relationship. With Antony it was more like you took turns using a chainsaw to cut through the tree.”

  “You're losing me, Mead.” My mind got distracted with memories of Woody the Woodpecker and Tom & Jerry cartoons, and I struggled to focus.

  “It was a lot easier to be with Antony because you guys took turns being the strong one and it's a lot harder to be with Galvin because you are both constantly battling demons.”

  “But I'm not with Galvin. Honestly, we're just friends.”

  “I know you are, but I think one day you're going to realize you want something more with him, and when that day comes I want you to ask yourself if the struggle is worth it.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “Because I know you, Stie. And I know him... and I know the history of StieVin. And because the Christie I heard last night on the phone was the Christie I heard twelve years ago.”

  “You're just paranoid,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  Meadow sighed. “Don't be mad.”

  “I'm not mad.” My patience, however, was growing thin.

  Meadow used her turn signal and pulled onto the shoulder of the expressway. She turned to face me, concern building up the corners of her mouth. “I don't want to send you off to New York upset. I'm sorry. I should have�
��“

  “I'm not upset!”

  Meadow cautiously raised an eyebrow at me, urging me to speak, but careful not to use any words.

  “Okay. I'm upset. But only because my whole life it seems like everyone knows me better than I do. Besides, you don't know my future. I should be the only one who determines my future.”

  Meadow took a few moments for me to cool down. Then, very calmly, she began to speak. “Nothing stops you from making your own decisions. I can sit here and tell you that you're going to come across a fork in the road, but you're the one who decides which road to take and whether you should run, skip, hop, bike, walk, or cartwheel through it. I'm just telling you there's road construction up ahead so be prepared to take a detour.”

  I kept staring at my boots, refusing to look up at her, even though my temper was diminishing. “I'm not telling you what to do or how your life is going to happen. No one should do that.”

  The car gently rocked as traffic whizzed by us on the shoulder. Swallowing hard, but still avoiding her gaze, I responded, “I know you're not. It's just something I don't want to think about... that I've been afraid to think about.” I finally looked up. “We're good, Meadow, our relationship seems so healthy and I'm afraid of ruining that. You're making me talk about a subject I want to avoid.”

  She smiled meekly and she let herself shine into the conversation. “That's what Fristers do, we poke sleeping bears.” Despite wanting to, I broke into a smile. She nudged my arm and added, “You don't have to talk about it, but I'll be there when you want to.”

  “I know.”

  “We're okay?”

  “Yeah. We're good.”

  “Good.”

  She put the car into gear and started easing back onto the expressway. The rest of the ride was spent reliving old tunes and planning our next visit.