Bo & Ember

by Andrea Randall

  I kissed him on the cheek and walked down the stairs, where I found Willow alone in her kitchen.

  “Uh…” I started.

  Willow nodded to the beach. “Out there.”

  “Weird.” I looked to Willow for a cue on what it was all about, but she had nothing to offer.

  “Who knows? It’s Beckett.” She laughed and resumed combing through what looked like textbooks on sound engineering.

  As I stepped onto the sand in the post-sunset dusk, Beckett was sitting on the large log to the left of the door.

  “Hey you, what’s up?” I wrapped a sweater around my body, having forgotten how chilly an evening ocean breeze could be—even in California.

  Beckett patted the space next to him. His hair was tucked behind his ears and he wore one of those half-grin half-frowns that instantly had me concerned.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked as I sat. “There’s not something wrong with the album is there?”

  Beckett shook his head and rested his arms on his knees. “No.”

  I looked around, waiting for him to continue. “Okay … so?”

  “I’m sorry, Ember. About the baby.” He looked to the sand as he spoke, and my stomach dropped.

  Some days it felt like so long ago. Until someone handed me their condolences. Then, I was right back there.

  I cleared my throat. “Beck, it’s okay. I’m feeling better.”

  Beckett shrugged then finally looked at me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, too. That was kind of a dick move.”

  “Beckett—”

  “No, Ember. Let me finish. I was so psyched to be working with you and getting your first album off the ground, and it was great hanging out at your place in New Hampshire, then I fell off the grid. It was like … I knew you and Bo were married, but when I heard about the miscarriage it just made it all real. Like … your life was something … something more. Marriage, a family.” He growled and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess when I first saw you at that club before you were signed, I was kind of hoping—”

  “Don’t,” I cut him off with a smile. “Don’t say it.”

  “But…”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want you to say it because it’ll ruin the friendship we’ve had for a long time. We’ve been friends since diapers, Beckett, and I don’t want that to change. I forgive you, okay? For what you said and what you didn’t say.” I put my hand on his shoulder and he reached up, gripping it for a few seconds.

  “You were always the peacemaker, you know. Of the three of us, remember? Willow and I would fight like cats and dogs and you’d make us friends again.” Beckett’s boyish smile lit up places in my childhood I’d long forgotten.

  I nodded. “You two were ridiculous.”

  “Yardley’s lucky to have you. That stunt you pulled with that Coldplay track the other day? Brilliant.” Beckett stood, and I followed.

  “It was hardly a stunt, Beck.”

  He laughed. “You owned it, sister. Bo’s a lucky man, Ember. Don’t let him forget it.”

  I flicked my eyes up to the window of the bedroom where Bo and I would spend one more night. “Well,” I sighed, “I’m pretty damn lucky, too.”

  Beckett’s eyes followed mine, settling on the glowing light from the room. “He’s all right.” He shrugged and I playfully smacked his shoulder.

  “Beckett!” I teased.

  “What! I thought he was going to eat me alive the first few times I was around him. His eyes never left me!”

  “Can you honestly blame him? You stared at me nonstop.” I rolled my eyes and opened the door.

  “Well,” Beckett said as we entered the kitchen. Willow was nowhere in sight. “Guess I’ll see you back in New York for the release party in April?”

  I smiled. “You better drive your ass to New Hampshire the second the album is done. We can have a secret listen.”

  Beckett leaned in and hugged me, planting a soft kiss on my cheek as he pulled away. “Right on.”

  Beckett left, and I hurried upstairs where I knew a warm bed awaited me. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and I still had to run the details by Bo. Luckily, he was still awake when I got into the room.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, setting down his book. He’d recently started reading in what little downtime he had, and damn it if he didn’t look even sexier with a book in his hand.

  I waved my hand. “Yeah. Beckett just apologized for not reaching out after the miscarriage.” I shrugged. “He felt bad. We’ve been friends a long time.”

  Bo’s eyebrows lifted. “That was … nice of him. Weird, but nice.”

  “Listen…” I sat cross-legged facing Bo. “I know the ashes are ready. They were ready on Wednesday, as promised by the funeral home.”

  Bo’s face greyed slightly. He simply cleared his throat.

  “They left a message on my phone,” I continued. “I didn’t keep it a secret, or anything like that. It was just … shocking, I guess. I mean, we knew they’d be ready—”

  “Ember, it’s okay,” Bo cut in as he gently rubbed my leg.

  I took a deep breath. “Anyway, I was thinking since we’re landing in Logan that we should go to that funeral home on our drive home and … get them.” I bit my lip and studied Bo’s face.

  His lips twisted, and his eyes misted over just slightly. “Makes sense. What do you want to do with them?”

  I shrugged. “Let’s not decide now. Let’s not even talk about deciding. It’s still kind of raw. The box is going to be tiny. We can figure out where to put it, and then decide on how to handle the ashes later. Like … summertime. Before we leave for tour.”

  Bo lay back on the bed and extended his arm. “Come here.” He spoke softly, inviting me to curl up next to him. That was his way of saying he agreed with me and was ready to take a break from talking about it.

  Just because one of us was ready to talk about something, didn’t mean the other had to be forced into it. Likewise, just because one of us didn’t want to talk didn’t mean we could avoid it all day. It was a balancing act. I’d said what I’d wanted to say about the ashes and didn’t need anything more from Bo until we landed in Massachusetts.

  I felt like each day we were acing page after page of “Dr. Bittman 101.” While we hadn’t discussed how long we’d see her, Bo and I agreed we needed to meet with her regularly before the tour started, and keep her on standby while we were on the road.

  I was happy to oblige Bo in his simple request, loving the feeling of his always-warm skin against mine. “Thank you for being mine,” I whispered as I kissed his chest.

  Bo kissed my forehead, taking the same deep breath he always did when his lips were against my skin. “Thank you for being mine.”

  I don’t ever want to pick up ashes again.

  The funeral home was extremely gracious and the whole process was smooth and uncomplicated, but it was still devastating. I know there were words exchanged and signatures scrawled, along with well-meaning smiles, but the details were a blur. All I knew when we left was I didn’t want to go back any time soon.

  As Bo drove us over the border into New Hampshire, I clutched the box in my hands.

  “It’s so small,” I whispered, my lip trembling as I grazed the lid.

  The size of a ring box, the silver cube was engraved with the date, as we’d requested when we were at the hospital.

  “I feel like I’ve been shot in the chest,” Bo admitted as he puffed out his cheeks in a sigh. He was preventing himself from crying.

  “Hey,” I cooed as I reached across the car, gripping his hand. “It’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

  Bo nodded.

  “Do you want me to drive for a while?” I continued. I was a mess inside, but was holding it together, and it looked like Bo needed to fall apart.

  “No, I’ll be fine.” Bo refocused his eyes on the road.

  I appreciated using driving as a distraction, so I let it go as I gazed out the
window with the nearly weightless but oppressively heavy box in my right hand.

  He was right. He would be fine. We both would be.

  “It’s just another process,” I said as I leaned my head back. “Those processes you always talk about. We’ve got to keep moving forward and being part of the process so we don’t get run over by it, right?”

  Bo grinned. “Right again, Mrs. Cavanaugh. I really should watch my words around you. They don’t taste as sweet when you serve them back to me.”

  We shared a light laugh in the midst of our storm as we headed for home.

  We finally reached the house around 7:00 PM. It was pitch black and frozen. The driveway shined with a smooth coating of ice.

  “This is bullshit,” Bo grumbled as he shivered at the sight of the frozen wonderland.

  I laughed. “Don’t sound so old. It’s January. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

  “I am old,” he insisted as he turned off the car. “I’m over thirty, run a successful nonprofit, I’m married, and I own a house. How the hell did I get so old?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Hey, Tyler’s not here,” I said as I surveyed the driveway.

  “So.” Bo shrugged.

  “He had that top secret project thing…” I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for the door, but Bo snapped his fingers, stopping me.

  I sat back with a grin, and waited for him to carefully skate around the front of the car and open my door.

  “Thanks,” he said as he helped me out onto the slick driveway. He always had a lighthearted grin when he opened the door. Frankly it looked like the grin I’d seen his father wear in the pictures around our house.

  I’d take it any day of the week.

  As we entered the house, I called out for Tyler in futility. “Hello?”

  “Holy shit!” Bo exclaimed inside a whisper. “Look at this place!”

  My jaw dropped as I followed Bo into the dining room. The paint was crisp, the new furniture perfectly situated, and the addition was perfection. Although it was only a couple hundred square feet, the sunroom that had access from both the dining room and the kitchen looked like it doubled the space on the first floor.

  Painted a pale sunny yellow, the room held a small wood stove, an oversized coffee table, and comfortable looking seating. My mind flew forward ten years and I could see me and Bo and our children around that table playing board games after dinner.

  “You did good,” Bo said as he put his arm around my shoulders.

  “Me? Tyler. I just picked out some furniture.”

  “Still,” Bo replied. “This is amazing. I had no idea it could look so bright in here.”

  He pulled me closer, and I was left wondering if he was still talking about the house at all.

  As excited as I was to see everything with the downstairs renovation buttoned up, I couldn’t help the telltale heart beating upstairs in Rae’s old bedroom.

  “Is it bad I want to ditch this scene and run upstairs?” I asked.

  “Hell no, this is like Christmas.” Bo leapt in front of me and bounded up the stairs.

  I took my time, breathing every other step, still clutching the box in my right hand. I hadn’t found the perfect place to set it down, since there was no such place in existence.

  Bo paused in front of the door, squinting at something. “He left a note.”

  “Again,” I teased, “you need glasses.” I shouldered up next to him and unpeeled the note from its taped position on the door.

  Tyler’s handwriting was disturbingly neat, though I don’t know why that surprised me. I took a deep breath before reading the note aloud.

  Hey you two,

  Thank you for giving me the opportunity to do this for you. For trusting me. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure, but I wanted to give you guys some space to take in what I’ve done here. If you hate it, I can put everything back the way it was. I moved what furniture I didn’t use to the garage.

  It’s a shared space, with elements from each of you represented. I know the last couple months have been tough, but the way you’re pulling through is awe-inspiring. Keep holding onto that and do it every day. Whatever it is you’re doing.

  I think I have some idea…

  Xo

  Ty.

  “Ty?” I questioned, my heart beating a bit faster in anticipation.

  Bo grinned. “All our high school friends call him that. He must really like you.” He winked and placed his hand on the doorknob. “Ready?”

  I nodded. Bo turned the knob and let the door swing open as he flicked on the light.

  “Oh my god,” I whispered as I brought my hand to my mouth.

  “Jesus…” Bo trailed off as he walked deeper into the large space.

  The walls were still the same crisp white they’d always been, but there was gorgeous fabric hanging on the walls. Tapestries of blues and greens and purples surrounded us as small lamps around the room gave a glowing light, rather than a bright overhead light.

  The room was in the upstairs front corner of the house, and had the luxury of two sets of windows on two different walls. Where those two walls met sat a small narrow table with an incense holder on it and a mason jar filled with incense next to it. On the floor in front of it was my yoga mat; its accessories were stacked neatly under the table.

  “Look at this!” I squealed, heading for what would surely be the best spot indoors to do morning yoga.

  Bo was quiet as he turned for the wall opposite the yoga center. There stood a bookshelf that came to his shoulders, and pillows were scattered at his feet.

  “Come here,” he said quietly as he reached for something on the top of the shelf. “He left another note." Bo read it silently and handed it to me as he crouched in front of the shelves.

  Hey again,

  I hope you like what you see so far.

  Ember, you need to have a place to do yoga where you can leave your mat all the time. You never know when the need will strike.

  I want this room to be a spiritual retreat for the both of you. Prayer. Meditation. Whatever. Leave all anxieties at the door and come restore yourselves in here.

  Bo, I’ve set up this bookshelf so both you and Ember can explore your questions, and discuss answers together. The pillows are for your knees. Thank you for teaching me how to pray.

  “You taught him how to pray?” I asked, setting the note back on the top shelf.

  Bo shrugged and gave a sly grin. “That’s a whole other long story.”

  “Great,” I mumbled, kneeling next to him.

  The top shelf had my name scrolled in blue letters against the pale wood. Beneath it were yoga books, Christian prayer books, Buddhist meditation books, and the list went on. There was at least one book for each major religion or practice.

  Suddenly, Bo let out a huge laugh.

  “What?” I drew my attention down to the next shelf and let out a laugh to match.

  On the shelf labeled “Bo” there sat a single book. The book, as far as Bo was concerned. A thick hardbound black Bible with an embossed gold cross on the front sat front and center on the shelf.

  Bo plucked it from its spot and thumbed through it until he reached a place where a bookmark was sticking out. I guessed it was somewhere in the Old Testament by how close to the beginning he was. His hand went to his mouth and he closed his eyes tightly as his knees anchored on two of the plush pillows.

  I moved my clenched hand to the shelf, gently setting the box of ashes next to the place Bo’s Bible would sit. There was a good place for the box, it turned out. I just hadn’t known till that moment that it existed.

  Kneeling on a pillow next to Bo, I looped my arm though his and leaned my head against his arm. Bo put the Bible open side down and sat back on his heels. His eyes were wet with tears, but he smiled.

  “This is amazing,” he finally said, wiping under his eyes.

  “Stand up for a second,” I said as I rose to my feet.

  Bo followed and grabbed both my hands. �
��What?”

  The lip tremble I’d battled through the afternoon gave way to soft flowing tears.

  “Whatever we go through, I want us to always come back right here,” I started.

  Bo looked around for a moment before settling back on my eyes, silently begging me for more.

  “Not just this room,” I continued. “I mean us on our knees, comforting each other. Praying for help. Wherever it comes from. That’s how it should be, and I promise you, Bo Cavanaugh, that I will spend every day that I have left on this earth fighting for us.”

  Bo’s face cracked into a broad smile as his hopelessly blue eyes flooded with tears. “I’m fighting right next to you. Never against you. I promise.”

  “We have so much ahead of us. Our album, the tour, Monica and Josh’s baby. There are so many opportunities for us to fuck it up.” I laughed through my tears. “But under each of those things is unpolished grace. If we dig in and buff it out, we’ll get to that next level with each other.”

  Bo’s thumbs wiped my cheeks. “I want the world with you, Ember. I don’t want a damn thing if you’re not next to me. I promise I’m never leaving your side again. It’s ugly out there.”

  “It is,” I agreed, my tears starting to dry. “Everyone’s crazy.”

  Bo laughed and pulled me close, holding my head to his chest. “You know,” he spoke softly, “I never thought you could look more beautiful than you did that first night I spotted you through the crowd at Finnegan’s. I’ve been wrong every single day since.”

  “I love you, Bo.” I leaned my head back and kissed his chin.

  “I love you, too, Ember.”

  We’d been there many times before, and in that moment I knew that’s where we’d always be, even if we were out on the road, on a stage, or sitting at home. Just the two of us, under the soft glow of lights somewhere, swaying back and forth.

  That was us, and that’s how it would always be.

  Bo

  Two years later…

  All of the highs and lows over the previous two years suddenly seemed inconsequential as I watched a perfectly serene Ember breathe through another contraction.