by Shey Stahl
Tyler motions around the table to the kids again. “We’re only watching two right now and I feel like we’re already outnumbered.”
She takes Lyric from me as he’s chewing on a pizza crust. “Quit your bitchin. We got this.”
“We got this,” Tyler repeats in a mocking tone and then eyes me carefully. “I’m not responsible if his first word ends up being fuck.”
I laugh, knowing there’s a very real possibility of that happening anyway. Focusing on Raven’s question, I’m not entirely convinced I should go see Rawley. We’ve talked every day since he left and he’s FaceTime’d with Lyric. But part of me wants to go so badly. “I don’t know,” I finally say, looking to Raven. “He may not want me there.” My heart squeezes in my chest at the thought of him not wanting me there and how that might feel. In the weeks he’s been gone from our lives, he’s told me a few times already he wishes I could come see him play.
Maybe he’d want me there?
“Don’t be stupid.” Raven grabs Chevy’s hands to wipe some sauce from them before he starts to spread it all over his body and then rolls her eyes at me. “Of course he wants you there. I promise you showing up would make his night.” She smiles and adds with a wink, “Then in return, I’m sure he would be happy to repay the debt and make your night.”
My face flushes and I can’t stop my smile. The thought of a night alone with Rawley is definitely appealing. Especially somewhere I don’t have to worry about Lyric escaping from his crib or someone walking in on us.
My attention’s drawn to Lyric, still chewing on his pizza crust. Kissing his forehead, I entertain the thought of leaving him for the entire night, something I’ve yet to do since he was born. Now here he is, nine months old. I deserved one night, right?
“I’m sure Mia won’t mind watching him for the night.” Tyler’s eyes brighten at the thought, only Raven’s quick to dismiss it.
“No way. It’s excellent practice for us.”
Tyler grumbles something I can’t quite catch but throws me a sarcastic thumbs-up and returns to chasing Chevy across the restaurant.
Raven waves her hand in my face. “Go, it’ll be fun.”
“What about the weather?”
We both look outside to see the gray overcast sky and the frozen windshields in the shade. “Just drive carefully and by the time the storm hits tonight, you’ll already be cuddled up in-doors.”
She’s right. The snow storm isn’t supposed to hit until around midnight. I’ll definitely reach Seattle by then if I leave in the next few hours.
I glance down at Lyric and wipe the excess drool from his chin. “I’d need to get his clothes and blanket for you. And some extra diapers. I can drop him off before I leave.”
Raven smiles like I’ve just given her a hundred bucks. I had no idea watching babies made her so happy. “Yay! We’ll follow you over there and pick him up, that way you can take Tyler’s truck just in case the roads are bad.”
I didn’t even think about that. Of course my Nissan would make it, but if there’s snow, probably not.
“Are you sure Tyler’s okay with that?”
“Oh yeah.” Raven waves me off, completely dismissing any other thoughts. “He’s fine.”
We both glance over at him as we’re standing up from the table to see him staring at Chevy who’s taking someone’s beer from them and dumping in on the floor. It’s no wonder Lenny and Red don’t go out to dinner anymore. It’s not like my kid is any better though.
Nova walks over to us, her eyes on Tyler. “Uncle Ty can’t handle this. His face looks worried.”
As if it’s a natural reaction—and it certainly is for her—Raven of course blows her off as well. “We got this, people. We’re going to be parents some day and we’re going to rock the shit out of parenting.” She nods to the door. “Come on, Nova, let’s go rescue Ty before Chevy punches him again.”
RAVEN’S INSISTENT THEY watch all three kids at their apartment which seems to bring a whole other level of panic to Tyler’s already stressed posture.
I have to give Tyler credit though, once we’re at Mia’s house, Lyric makes it known he needs his diaper changed and Tyler steps in. I don’t bother to tell him changing Lyric’s diaper is an Olympic sport in itself.
“Are you sure you two don’t want some help?” Mia asks, watching Tyler try to dress Lyric after he’s changed. It seems so important for him to prove he can do it. Alone. I’m not sure if he’s trying to convince himself or everyone else, but he’s determined nonetheless.
Watching him struggle, I’m beginning to think it may be too much for them. “Tyler, I can—”
“I got this,” Tyler says for the third time when Lyric straightens his legs and refuses to bend them.
“I don’t know why you’re making him get dressed,” Nova says, rolling her eyes at her stubborn cousin. “He’ll just take his pants off in the car like he does when he gets to daycare in the morning.”
No wonder he’s never wearing pants when I pick him up.
As if putting his pants on is too much to ask of my little man, he throws himself back on the floor. Lyric may be the happiest baby ever but dressing him is the real battle. The days where I got him to put pants on, he refused to wear a shirt. Or shoes.
“This brings back memories,” Mia notes, laughing and helping Tyler out with the pants by tickling Lyric’s belly to get him to bend his legs. “When Rawley was little, he rarely wore clothes. I once took him to the store wearing Spiderman underwear and red rubber boots.”
The reminder of Rawley as a boy sends a flutter in my chest, a reminder that in just a few hours, I’ll see him performing again. My mind races back to the wedding when I heard him play “Unbound” for the first time. The lyrics float around like leaves falling from a tree, reminders of everything we’ve overcome in the last couple of months just by finally talking and acting like adults.
I once heard a quote, or maybe read it on a fortune cookie, I’m not sure, but it said: “When someone is working hard to change, the worst thing you can do is hold them to their past. Forgive them and help them transform.”
There’s still so much about my relationship with Rawley that’s up in the air. We’d been waiting to discuss everything until he was home for a while, but those words came back to me as I left for Seattle. Some would think, how can you forgive him after everything he’s done to you?
The truth is, how can I not forgive him if he’s trying? The Rawley I see now doesn’t even resemble the man from two years ago. It’s like that side of him is a distant memory lost in the clouds. He never wanted to be that way; it was a product of a world I created and he clouded it with his darkness.
My point is, I’m willing to forgive if he is, and I think he finally is.
I SHOULD HAVE paid closer attention to the weather report and the exact time the weather was supposed to hit. Two hours into my drive, I’ve made it to Portland and I still have another two hours to go. It’s bumper to bumper traffic when Rawley calls me. He’s getting ready to head to sound check and I want to appear casual because I’m hoping to surprise him.
“Hey, babe, you okay?” he asks the moment I answer the phone. The fact that he calls me babe sends a spike of adrenaline through my chest. I’m thankful for the Bluetooth in the truck because the last thing I can do in traffic is talk on the phone. Some people can do it, but I’m not one of them. I need both hands on the wheel and especially in Tyler’s truck.
Shit, act normal. You can’t give yourself away.
“Yep. I’m doing great. You?”
He laughs lightly and it sounds like he’s blowing out smoke.
“Are you smoking?”
“Yeah, a little nervous tonight.”
“Why?”
He’s silent for a second, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “You know, I’m not even sure why. Maybe because it’s the last show for a while and I want it to be a good one. I’m curious if Sam’s going to try anything.”
“I’m sure ever
ything will be fine.” Just as I say that, someone honks at me and I remember traffic began to flow again. See? I can’t drive and talk.
“Where are you?”
Shit! He’s going to know. Lie! No, you’ve done enough over the years. No. This is important to surprise him.
“Uh, driving to the grocery store?”
Shit fuck. That sounded like a question. Maybe he’s too nervous to notice.
“Oh, I’ll let you go.” And then he sighs, like he doesn’t want to let me go just yet. “Be careful… that storms supposed to hit tonight. Maybe you should sleep with Lyric to keep him warm tonight.”
It’s cute he’s thinking of our son in this weather, but I’m more concerned with Rawley keeping me warm tonight. I’ll admit, I should be thinking of my son, but I know he’s in good hands and everything was so rushed the night of Red and Lenny’s wedding, and then the morning when Rawley left, we only slept together that one time.
Honestly, I’m really hoping if I show up there tonight, he’s keeping me warm with some body heat of our own. It’s been too long since he left.
“Sophie?”
Crap. He’s still on the phone. “Yeah?”
“You sure you’re okay?”
I nod, and then realize I’m on the phone and have to actually speak. “Yep, totally cool. So I’ll see you tomorrow then, right?”
“Yeah, probably pretty late. We have everything packed up. I think Beck wants to leave about noon.”
“Great. I’ll keep Lyric awake to see you. He’ll be excited to see you.”
Rawley sighs, blowing out another smoke-filled breath. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you guys. Has he done anything new today?”
My heart flutters, like it wants to fly away. There’s more honking because like I said, not the greatest driver on the phone. “Sorry, I have to go. It’s icy out and I need to pay attention.”
“Oh, yeah.” He clears his throat and my heart stops fluttering, wondering what he’s going to say next. “I uh… love you.”
With his words, it sends the beat back to normal and rushing through me.
He loves me.
“Love you, too.”
I’m just pulling off the freeway when the snow begins to fall, three hours before it’s supposed to. And look at me, I was thinking the weather man was full of shit. In theory, he was a little off on the time frame.
I blame Raven. She was in such a hurry to rush me out the door so I didn’t change my mind. I didn’t think tonight through. Not that I don’t want to be here, but I would have organized myself a little better and oh, I don’t know, dressed warmer. But no, I was hurried through packing and practically pushed out the door.
Walking up Seneca Street, I’m very aware that it’s colder than a witch’s tit and I’m pretty sure even penguins would struggle in this cold.
I try and block my frozen misery from my thoughts as I trek into Bailey’s. I’m not sure what I’m more excited about, seeing Rawley or the prospect of feeling my toes again. At this point it’s a toss-up.
Outside there’s a billboard light up with the distinct Torque logo for their band, a cross between a wrench and a guitar. While Torque began in the basement of Lincoln’s, Lyric, Rawley’s father, let them play in the shop a lot of the times after they’d close for the day. Though Rawley didn’t like working on cars, he grew up surrounded by it and in turn it formed their band in many ways.
My smile hurts, mostly because it’s so damn cold. Blowing into my hands, I draw in a deep breath, bringing in the chilly air.
Once inside, I’m bumped and pushed around from all directions. I can’t believe the crowd they’ve got considering the amount of snow falling outside, but I guess I shouldn’t be completely surprised. Torque has always drawn in the crowds and with tonight being their last concert for a while, I can understand the draw.
I can hear the band and Rawley’s distinct voice booming over the crowd, but it’s hard to see anything with all the people. I’m trying my hardest just to make it to the bar, but it’s a task that’s become more difficult than necessary. I spot Dylan and head his way, hoping he can help me get to Rawley or at least somewhere I can sit and enjoy the rest of the show. I didn’t know who Dylan Wade was until the wedding. Rawley introduced me to him after Red and Lenny left so I kinda felt like I knew him now, or I at least felt comfortable around him.
Gratefully Dylan finally sees me and guides me over to a table near the front that has a reserved sign on it. I’m not sure why because no one is sitting there and Rawley didn’t know I was coming, but I’m thankful for a place to sit.
“I’ve never seen him so nervous before a show,” Dylan admits and then nods over his shoulder to the bar. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Uh, yeah. Tequila sunrise?”
He winks at me, straightening out his posture. He’s blocking my view of the stage and I’m almost afraid to have him move. “Coming right up.”
And then he moves.
Sitting there seeing the band on stage with all the girls in the front screaming and trying to get Rawley and the rest of the guy’s attention should bother me, but it’s the least of my concerns. Because all I see is Rawley on that stage and the boy I will forever love. Seeing Rawley up on stage with Torque tonight is certainly different from every other time I’ve seen him. Even at the wedding. At the wedding, it was clear that performance was about his brother and his new wife.
This, the energetic boy I know, rocking up there on stage, this performance is about them. They’re more confident than any other time I’ve seen them, moving together and feeding off one another and the crowd in front of them.
Watching him is hypnotizing. It always has been for me. From the very beginning when he started performing on stage, I would watch him and everything else around us would fall away. The crowds, the band, everyone, all of it. I can’t help the smile I know is beaming across my face when he spots me.
Coming here without him knowing is a big step for me. I want to believe he’s happy to see me, yet there’s a part of me that’s worried he won’t want me here, in this part of his life. A life I was no longer a part of for so long.
The look on his face chases away all of those insecurities. It’s like walking into an air-conditioned room in the sweltering heat of a summer day. The smile he gives washes away all my insecurities. He wants me here, with him.
Though his eyes are on mine, he never stops singing or performing. Instead, he turns it up a notch, his eyes on mine and then he winks, his hands moving fast on the guitar during the chorus.
The beat pulses through me, moves with me and I feel more confident than I’ve ever felt in my entire life in his presence. For so long, Rawley was intimidating and now I feel nothing but easiness. His passion for his music speaks through his art, lazy lids as he moans out the lyrics to the slow song he’s singing.
I think of the night in his truck again, imagining it’s what he’s singing about and the careful attention he showed me that night. I’m floating inside, his words silencing my thoughts, simple, spoken so softly into the mic and I know then, for sure, he’s singing about that night.
I stare through the crowd, faces unapparent when he’s the only one I want to see. My stare’s no longer hopeless like it was when I used to see him on stage. This time, his eyes are pleading, assuring me this time it’s different.
It’s when he moves onto a song I know well, one off his EP where I see the lively version of him I briefly saw at the wedding. Only now it’s taken up a notch when he rips his shirt off and tosses it aside, swaying to the heavy drum beat, the muscles in his body tensing with each movement.
Honestly, my first reaction is to think of us having sex by the way he’s moving. Flashes of our time together in his room surface, warmth spreading throughout me when he belts out the lyrics at the top of his lungs, the crowd pulsing around him, jumping to the rhythm of the fast beat song.
I stay at my place in the corner, wanting the view I have here of him in
the spotlight where he belongs. I don’t know what it’s going to be like having him back in Lebanon, but I know he can’t give this up. The flush in his cheeks, the brightness in his eyes, he belongs on a stage.
AN HOUR PASSES and the show is over before I know it and my nerves take on a flight of their own. I can’t help but wonder what he’s going to think of me being here.
My gaze follows him while hugs and smiles are exchanged between the band but his eyes, they’re on me, waiting to see me.
Familiarity softens his eyes when he steps forward. His weight shifts and he leans against the wall. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with a band’s name I don’t recognize across the front, one I’ve never heard of. His loose fitting jeans hang low enough when he reaches up to scratch down his jaw, I see the lines of his hips.
With him this close now, the wave of voices echoing through the bar, my thoughts crash and I don’t know what to say to him.
“You were amazing out there tonight, well, the songs I heard.”
He doesn’t move at first, his lips part and my pulse quickens. He’s examining my face, eyes wandering with a dark intensity I haven’t seen in a while. He gives a dismissive shrug but maintains steady eye contact. He’s closer than I expected and his hands are in his pockets. I smile. He looks good like this, relaxed.
“What are you doing here?”
A pang of disappointment hits me. Did he not want me here?
He inhales deeply, his chest expanding. God, he looks so much like the old Rawley I just want to jump in his arms and live in this moment before anything else is said.
And then he moves, a step closer and his palm cups my left cheek, coaxing me in. And I willingly go because it’s the only place I ever want to be, next to him.