The space between, p.38
The Space Between, page 38
I push my hand against his chest and lift my head, my hair spilling over him. I smile at the sleep lines on his face. I reach out and brush my hands over them.
“What?”
He stretches his hands out and pulls me closer, “When we leave tomorrow for Tokyo. Come with me. You and Claudia. I don’t want this to end. We have today now. But I want tomorrow. And the next tomorrow. Come to Tokyo, then Seoul, then London, then Paris. Come. Please.”
I regard the solemn look in his eyes, the hope and the love there. My heart flutters in my chest, expanding, growing.
If we go with him…
His eyes are ocean gray, a promise there.
I’d join him on tour again. This time a world tour.
Claudia would love it.
It’s summer break. She’s wanted to see Tokyo Tower and ride the London Eye again.
I could shift work around, manage most things remotely, and…
“I love you,” I say, dropping my mouth to his. “Yes. We’ll come. Yes.”
The strain in his muscles relaxes and he drags his mouth over mine, whispering words of love, then he flips me over, pins me beneath him.
“You’re my heart,” he says.
And right when I think we’re about to start loving again, a seven o’clock wake-up, there’s a loud pounding at the door, and then the sound of a key turning and feet banging, and then—
“Wake up! We brought bagels. Jace, you aren’t going to believe—”
It’s River.
And I can hear Dean’s voice, and Dallas’s deep rumble.
I flip to the side, underneath Jace’s arms, scramble off the bed and dive for my jeans and t-shirt.
“Go away!” Jace shouts, smiling at me as I hop on one leg, trying to shove my foot through my jeans.
“We’ve got coffee,” River shouts. “Where are your mugs? Where’s the cream?”
“Whyyyy,” I whisper, crawling across the floor, hiding behind the bed to grab my t-shirt and thrust it over my head.
“I’ll get rid of them,” Jace says, climbing out of the bed, the long line of him gleaming in the early sun.
He grabs his jeans, also from the floor, puts them on, and then smiles at me one last time before he walks barefoot and shirtless out to the living room.
As I hurriedly put my hair in a ponytail, I hear Jace say, “You guys need to go away. What did I tell you about the spare key? It’s for emergencies only.”
“This is an emergency,” River says. “You have cream. At least I think you have cream.”
I hear the opening and closing of a refrigerator door.
“What River means,” Dean says, “is that Serena put him on a dairy-free cleanse and he’s afraid to have cream anywhere else but here.”
I peek around the bedroom door. River’s sitting at the kitchen table, pouring a massive amount of cream into a mug, a look of ecstasy on his face. Dean’s pulling tin-foil wrapped bagels out of a paper bag, the crinkling of the foil loud. Dallas has his arms crossed, a frown on his face. And Jace, he’s shaking his head, pointing at the door.
But they’re not leaving.
So I straighten my t-shirt, pat my messy ponytail, tilt my chin high, and stride barefoot out to the living room.
River sees me first, and he’s so stunned that instead of pouring the cream in his cup, he pours it all over the table.
“Watch it,” Dean says, swiping the cream and tossing him a handful of napkins from the bagel bag.
The scent of toasted cinnamon and raisin hits me then, mixed with a dark, roasted coffee flavor.
“But…” River pulls himself back together and gives me his wide, happy River smile. “Hi Andi.”
“Hi River.”
Both Dean and Dallas jerk their heads toward me as I step into the kitchen. The tiles are cold against my feet. I walk to Jace and slip my arms around his waist.
He smiles and pulls me into his warmth.
Dean clears his throat and looks between Jace and me, the napkins and bagels forgotten. And even though the last time I saw Dean he lied to me, and even though he caused so much pain, I can’t bring myself to feel any resentment.
“Hi Dean,” I say. “Good to see you.”
At that, his shoulders relax and he nods. “It’s good to see you too.”
I see it then, the difference in him. He isn’t so hard anymore. His stance is more relaxed, his face is softer, and there’s an understanding in his eyes, one you only get after you’ve lived a bit.
Jace squeezes me to him and brushes a kiss over my hair.
River’s smile grows wider, delighted. “So I guess you like Jace, huh?”
I nod. “I guess I do.”
He laughs and then Dean shoves him and tells him to clean up his mess.
“You want a bagel, Andi?” he asks.
“Do you have strawberry cream cheese?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.
“I have some in the fridge,” Jace says.
“I don’t trust people that like cream cheese,” Dallas says, and I turn to him, take in his tattoos, his height, his dark eyes.
“Hi Dallas,” I say. “Thank you. For what you did for me. Thank you.”
He didn’t betray me. He helped me and he paid the price.
He nods then, takes in Jace’s arm around me, all of us here in the kitchen together, the warm breakfast scent surrounding us, and then he says, “I used to not trust people who like cream cheese. But I’ve changed my mind. This once.”
I smile then, and after that, we’re all unwrapping hot bagels, the steam curling around us, burning our fingers on the hot sugar and cinnamon.
We drink coffee, and laugh, and joke, and when there’s only crumbs on the table, and splatters of cream missed in the hasty cleaning, Dallas asks, “So is Andi back now?”
They’re all quiet, watching me with expectation.
Jace reaches over and takes my hand, holding me, waiting for my answer.
“I’m not back,” I say, shaking my head, “because I never left.”
At that Jace stands, tugs me close and says, “And now, you all really need to leave.”
They do.
And Jace loves me.
And he loves me some more.
And some more.
73
Andi
* * *
Tokyo, with its fragrant pink cherry blossoms, Imperial Palace, Skytree, and the elegant red and white striped Tokyo Tower.
Seoul with Gyeongbokgung Palace, Gwangjang Traditional Market, all the rich food smells and the modern luxury of the shopping district.
London with its gray skies and rain, sharing umbrellas, double decker buses, cobblestone roads and dizzying rides on the London Eye.
Paris with the reverence of stained-glass windows, towering cathedrals, and the romance of the Eiffel Tower, and kissing next to the lazily flowing Seine.
All of it, together.
Me, Claudia, Jace.
We stay in hotels with two or three bedroom suites, we tour the cities, we take in the sights and the smells, or we stay in and cuddle on the couch. And every concert, Claudia and I come, and watch from the side of the stage, letting the music flow over us, dancing together.
When Claudia found out that Jace had known her dad as a kid, she asked him, “What was he like?”
And Jace crouched down, looked her in the eyes, and told her, “He looked a lot like you, and he was smart and funny, and he could do anything he put his mind to, and he was lucky, because he had your mom and he had you. He lived and he loved.”
At that, I think that every doubt I might have had fell away.
So back in New York, after touring for a month, with summer break nearly over, while Jace and I lie in the grass of Central Park and watch Claudia cartwheel across the lawn, I ask him.
“Last time, when you said you wanted always and forever, you asked me to marry you.”
“Yes,” he says in a low, happy voice, taking my hand, pulling me to his side.
The breeze blows across the park, sending the fresh-cut grass smell over us and bringing the sounds of kids playing happily nearby. In the distance, past the lake, stands Belvedere Castle and the dark green of the Ramble.
Where it all began.
I sink into Jace, feel the lush grass, smell the green smells, and watch my daughter play in the sun.
“This time,” I say looking up at him, “I thought…do you remember how you asked? You said, will you be my wife?”
He nods, stroking his hand over mine, “And you said, as long as you’ll be my husband.”
“I want that,” I say. “I want that with you. I want always.”
He smiles at me then, and it’s as bright as the sun in the sky, as he says, “You’ve had my always since the day we met.”
Then I’m kneeling and he’s kneeling and we’re holding hands, and this time, when I’m saying yes, and he’s saying yes, I know that we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.
74
Jace
* * *
One Month Later
* * *
When you have a lazy weekend, a clear blue sky, a soft ocean breeze, and leaves still green before the autumn, there’s only one thing to do.
The sound of laughter bounces around the backyard, as Claudia gleefully chases River’s sons Augustus and, his youngest, Angel around the yard. Frank, the old dog, gallops behind them, as much a puppy as ever.
I smile after them, then wrap my arm around Andi’s side, pulling her close.
She leans into me, and I hold her tight—the sun streaming over us, the day bright—and send up a thanks for this moment.
She looks up at me, her hair in a ponytail, no makeup on, barefoot in the lush grass, and blushes—probably because of what we just got up to in the bedroom five minutes before everyone arrived.
“I’m not cooking all these burgers,” River calls, waving a spatula at the grill, the smell of charred meat and smoke rising, “unless someone gets me a drink.”
Serena strides across the lawn, swats him on the back of the head, and hands him an iced lemonade. He grins and kisses her, patting her pregnant belly affectionately.
Dean walks by, a platter of corn in his hands ready to be grilled. He shakes his head and says to Andi, “Are you sure you’re glad you joined this family?”
She laughs and puts her finger to her lips, considering. “I don’t know. What dessert did you bring?”
“Strawberries,” Dallas says, thudding a glass bowl overflowing with bright red berries onto the picnic table.
“Yes then,” she says, smiling at Dallas. “I’m very glad.”
He nods, like he at least never doubted it.
I take Andi’s hand, brush a finger over her wedding ring, now gold, with a sapphire and diamonds, and kiss her palm, then her wrist, kissing her pulse.
“What’s your lyric?” she asks, reaching up and brushing her hands, as light as the breeze, across my face.
“Happy ever after is right now,” I say, kissing each of her fingers one by one.
She curls her hand, presses her fingers into my lips.
“Yes it is,” she agrees, and I know, by the look in her eyes, that later today we are going to be making a different kind of music together.
“Food is ready,” River shouts, and then Claudia is there, tugging on my sleeve.
I let Andi go and kneel down, smiling at her red cheeks and bright blue gaze.
“Jace?” she says solemnly.
“Yes?”
She frowns, a little line appearing between her eyebrows. “Are you my dad now?”
My heart stops, then slowly starts up again. The backs of my eyes burn and I hear Andi let out a slow breath.
I look at Claudia, at her wide blue eyes, at the smudge of dirt on her nose from rolling in the grass, at her wispy blonde hair—the same exact shade as Reid’s—and at the serious question in her straightforward gaze.
“What do you think?” I ask solemnly, my voice quiet. “Do you want me to be your dad?”
She tilts her head, considering, then says, “I already have a dad.”
I nod, my throat tight. “You do. He’s a good dad.”
She looks at me, gives me a small smile. “But I think it’s okay if I have two.”
“Yes,” I say brokenly. “That just means you have double the love.”
“That’s what I thought,” she says, then she lifts her arms, and I pick her up, lift her to my shoulders, and then Andi grabs my hand and we’re striding to the picnic table, where everyone is laughing and eating and enjoying the sun and one of the last days of summer.
Then I let Claudia down and she’s running to sit next to her cousins, and Andi reaches up, wraps her arms around me, and gives me that smile, the one I know means that I have all her love.
Always.
Always and forever.
Epilogue
Jace
* * *
FIVE YEARS LATER
* * *
I fly across the darkened city, sprinting over the sidewalk to reach Andi in time.
It’s after midnight, our show let out late, and even though I was on the stage for hours, I was with her, in my heart, the whole time.
Bright headlights cut across the intersection, a taxi rushing by, honking his horn. I dodge it and race across the crosswalk, my leg burning. It doesn’t matter. I have to reach her.
A cloud of steam rises from the sidewalk grate, throwing up that subway tunnel scent, fully New York. My feet pound against the pavement, I leap onto the sidewalk, my lungs burning.
Almost there.
The bright lights ahead beckon me.
I shove through the front doors, squinting into the bright fluorescent hospital lights. The antiseptic smells, the clean sterile walls, the signs pointing to check-in, laboratory, surgery.
I don’t have time for the elevator.
I run through the nearly deserted lobby, push through the doors to the stairwell and take the stairs two at a time. I grip my leg, pushing back the ache.
My heart trips double time, booming in my ears, one-twenty if I had to guess.
And then I’m to the floor, running down the hospital hall.
And finally, finally I’m there.
I slow at the door, steady my breathing, step into the white-walled hospital room.
Andi’s on the bed, her amber-honey hair curled around her, a sheen of sweat on her brow, her cheeks pink and her butter-brown eyes tired.
“Am I in time?” I ask, stepping close, grasping her outstretched hand.
“Yes,” she whispers.
And then I hold her, stay with her as our baby girl is born.
She’s sleeping, wrapped tightly in her receiving blanket, warm in my arms.
Louisa Morgan.
It’s quiet now. Andi’s eyes are drifting closed. She’s tired after a long night.
Outside the room, I can hear our family hurrying down the hall. Eleven-year-old Claudia with her four-year-old twin brothers, Sebastian and Jon, and her almost three-year-old sister, Olivia, and of course, her grandma and Mary.
Later today, River and his family will fly in, and Dean and Dallas will come by.
I run a finger over Louisa’s soft pink cheek. “You’ve got a busy day ahead of you,” I tell her, “Meeting all the people that love you.”
Andi looks over at me then, her eyes opening wide. “Giving her advice?”
I shake my head. “No. Just telling her she’s loved.”
Then the room is crowded, full of everyone wanting to see Andi and Louisa and there’s oohs and ahhhs and laughing and crying and Claudia looks skeptically at her new sister and says, “Do you think five kids is enough?”
Andi laughs, pulling Claudia onto the bed with her. “I don’t know. It’s a crazy thing, we haven’t run out of love to give yet.”
“Grandpa says you’re trying to build another family band,” she frowns.
I laugh, and that wakes up Louisa. She stares at me, confused and bleary eyed, and then, she decides, I think, that she’s going to be a singer, because she lets out the most powerful cry I’ve ever heard.
Then Sebastian and Jon and Olivia climb onto the bed too, and Claudia makes room, and Andi tries to wrap her arms around all of them, and above the noise, and the laughter, Andi looks at me, and I see it in her eyes.
Tell me a lyric.
For right now.
But I can’t, because this time, the happiness is too big, my love is too wide, there aren’t any words to describe the feeling of how much love I’m holding inside.
Andi
* * *
“And that is how I fell in love,” I say, yawning as I finish the bedtime story.
“It isn’t really,” Jon says, his eyes tired, his blanket grasped in his hands. “It’s just a fairy tale.”
I look over at Jace and he gives me a wink, rocking a sleeping Louisa in his arms. Olivia’s nearly asleep, her eyes drooping, leaning against her dad.
Claudia lies on the floor, her head in my lap, her hand in mine.
“It is really,” I say, “There was a princess in a tower, a dragon, a chivalrous knight, a golden harp, and true love’s kiss.”
“Is it true, Dad?” Sebastian asks, turning to Jace for confirmation.
Jace nods then, a smile in his eyes. “It’s true. It’s all true.”
And so the kids are tucked into their beds, secure in the knowledge that there’s a love like this out there, a love so big, a song so beautiful, that it heals the world.
* * *
THE END
Acknowledgments
A huge thank you to Art for answering a million questions about the nitty gritty of life as a professional musician. Hours and hours of interviews ranging from the minutiae of band dynamics, hotel rooms on tour, what it’s like playing in small venues versus arenas—your knowledge was invaluable.
Your philosophy on music and your decades of experience making music for the world were inspirational. Thank you.
