Page 43 of Again, In Autumn

He doubles down. “I appreciate people who make their own choices in life and can’t be talked out of their dreams because they scare someone else. You fall, you fail, you get back up. Too many people sit in comfortable boxes because they’re scared to put themselves out there.”

Kate says, “That’s why I pursued my career as a hairstylist. It’s my passion. It doesn’t matter how much money I make. I love helping people feel good about themselves. It’s my dream.”

Adam stirs the food on his plate. A fold appears between his eyebrows. He chews on the corner of his bottom lip.

In our final conversation, he’d asked me, “Why are you doing this?”

He cried, and I’d never seen anyone cry like that before. Not dramatic or stifling or out of grief, but rather from an uncontrollable faucet of energy that he didn’t seem to consciously turn on.

“Why don’t you trust me?” he’d asked.

I stare at my food. My appetite has gone cold.

Into the abyss of our awkward group dinner, he mutters, “Integrity. It seems like people these days can’t seem to find it or hold on to it. They say one thing and do something completely different.”

Francesca knocks her wine back and sets the glass on the table. “So, what are you working on right now, Adam?”

“Writing a new album this winter,” he says. He stabs at his spaghetti. “I’m taking it slow.”

“Evaluating his life,” Maggie calls out wistfully.

“I’m not as melancholy as she thinks I am.” Adam half smiles.

David argues, “I’ve heard your music, my man. Someone hurt you.”

Adam shakes his head. “And now I’m in a different phase of life. We’re coming full circle here. I’m not thinking about the past anymore.” He emphatically gestures a forward motion with his knife. “I’m moving on.”

Francesca tussles Alice’s hair. “What are you moving toward? A farmhouse in the country? A brood of children? Grass-fed cows? A cult?”

“I’d love a family one day. A big one. For me, it’s the full Vonn Trapp or nothing,” he says.

Diego throws his head back. “He’s not joking. That collection of guitars in his garage is going to be very busy one day.”

“Make a plan and stick to it,” Adam replies. “I’m not going to be this handsome forever. Profiting off your eleven children is the way to go, according to Instagram.”

“I’d love to have eleven children do my housework,” Francesca mutters.

Kate clears her throat. “So, you’re ready to settle down with someone?”

I choke on my wine.

Grayson pounds me on the back.

Adam nods, slowly. “I am.” He swallows. “I don’t have to work so hard to be seen anymore, so I get to make more choices about my work. There will always be tours and reasons to put off having real relationship, a family, but I’m ready to make that a priority. My label can come at me if they disagree.”

“I’m totally in the same boat,” Kate says quickly. “That’s crazy how much we have in common!”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“I’ve always wanted a big family,” she continues. “I’m very domestic. I’m so intrigued by the whole Trad Wife movement.”

This time it’s Francesca who chokes on her wine.

Maggie cheers, “Well as a stay-at-home cat mom, I’m a huge crafter, myself. Kids, if you want to come over tomorrow, we can make peanut butter pinecone bird feeders!”

Chapter Twelve

After dinner, David lights a fire in the living room and Francesca fills up everyone’s glasses. The plush couches and worn, stately armchairs become cozy and filled with blankets, giggling, and conversation.

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