Page 67 of All Your Firsts Without Me

When the song ends, we are both breathless. Clapping grows louder and louder until we break eye contact and turn to see a standing ovation. The residents who can stand are. The staff must have come in at some point; the room is full. My eyes tear up, landing on Fred. He taps his fingers over his heart.

Westin reaches over and squeezes my hand before turning his attention to our crowd. “What do you say? You want to skip reading today and keep her singing?”

Everyone whoops and hollers as a flush creeps up my neck, staining all the way to my cheeks. I duck my head shyly. But Westin starts strumming again, chasing away all my awkwardness. His guitar seems to have a way of pulling words out of me. It’s just so effortless. Like it was always meant to be.

As we are getting ready to head out, the director of the nursing home stops us. “That was incredible today. Thank you both for coming here each week. They have grown to love you both so much. I’ve never seen as many smiles from them as I did today. I hope you keep coming back.”

“We wouldn’t miss it for the world. They give us a safe place to stretch our wings,” Westin tells her.

“You two are very talented.”

“Thank you,” I say, shaking her hand.

Today is a peanut butter and jelly sandwich day, so we head to the park. I watch as Westin throws the ball and Lucky retrieves it. My gaze slides to the playground. For the first time, I let myself think about what it would be like to have children of my own. Westin would make a wonderful father. I chew on my lip, dropping my eyes to my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Would I be a good mother? My own wasn’t a particularly good role model. I don’t know the first thing about being a mom. But I do make a mean pb and j. I laugh, remembering my neighbor lady. I guess I could learn. If I had kids, I would read to them every night and Westin could play ball with them. Would that be enough? I would love them and never make them feel evil. Never.

Westin and Lucky come back, both breathing hard. “Hey,” he kisses me on the cheek before taking a big bite out of my sandwich.

“Hey,” I pull it away. “This one is mine.” I laugh, grabbing his out of the basket.

“Where were you?” he asks, unwrapping his sandwich.

“I was just thinking.” I turn away, busying myself by pouring some bottled water in a dish for Lucky.

He nods, not pressing me. I love that about him. He has an uncanny ability of knowing when to press and when to remain silent.

“I’ve been doing some thinking myself,” he says. “You know how you talked about starting up some sort of foundation in David’s name?”

“Yeah.”

“I think we should record our songs and use the money to get it started.” He brushes crumbs off his jeans after popping the last bite into his mouth.

“Oh, gosh. I don’t know. Would we have to perform live?”

He shakes his head. “We are in control of our destiny, April. We set the guidelines. I just think our music could help a lot of people and we… well,Ilove to make it.”

I kiss him on the cheek. It’s sweet he wants to help me do this for David. “I love making music with you too,” I admit. “I guess it would be selfish not to toss our pebbles out to the world if they can help someone.”

Westin, chuckles. “Pebbles. David always talked about pebbles. He used to call you his most precious one.”

“He did?” This is the first time we’ve really talked about what he and David discussed during those Fridays at the bar. I thought it would be awkward but it’s not. I know I keep saying this but it’s… easy.

He nods, the light in his sea glass eyes shines bright as he stares past me into another time. “A diamond disguised as a pebble he would say. I see it too.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“You never seem jealous.”

His eyes follow a mom pushing her baby in a stroller. “Of David?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“I guess I’m not. He was an amazing man. He helped you. Without him, there would be no you.” He turns, his brows furrowed together. “If he wouldn’t have heard you that day…” he coughs, choking on the thought of what would have happened to me. “And without your story, I would have died. I was going to give up, April. Your story gave me strength.”

“And your song gave me hope,” I whisper.

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