Page 24 of Eternally London

“No, he took a break from touring for like fourteen years until he began his world tour a few years back.”

“Really? He’s been around for that long?” I ask, genuinely interested though at the same time making it clear that I obviously know very little about the country singer.

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy answers with more confidence in his voice than usual. “He was huge before I was born. My mom used to listen to his greatest hits CD on repeat. I grew up listening to Garth.”

“What’s your favorite song?”

Tommy looks down at his plate of discarded rib bones and then looks back up, meeting my stare. “I’d say ‘Unanswered Prayers.’ It reminds me of my mom. That was her favorite song.”

“What’s it about?”

My question actually causes Tommy to release a small chuckle. “Have you ever listened to Garth before?”

“Just a little.” Meaning just the few minutes I listened while looking him up on the internet, but I don’t tell Tommy that. “None of my foster parents really played music when I was growing up. I just ran across one of his songs the other day. That’s why I wanted to check out his concert.”

“Oh, man. He’s the best there is. You’re going to be blown away.” He shakes his head in awe.

“Tell me about your mom’s favorite song.”

Tommy stares off over my shoulder for a moment before answering, “I remember her playing it over and over after my dad left. It’s basically about how, sometimes, your prayers don’t come true because something better is out there. And how, sometimes, you’re sad because you feel like you’re not getting what you need. But, eventually, you’ll realize that you didn’t get whatever it was that you’d prayed for because you were meant for something else, something better. And then you’ll be thankful that your previous prayers didn’t come true.”

He nods as a serene expression covers his face, and I suspect he’s thinking of his mom.

“So, like an everything-happens-for-a-reason theme?” I clarify for myself.

“Yeah, I guess so.” He shrugs.

I make a mental note to go home, purchase, and download all of the songs by Garth Brooks that I can find. I finally have something to talk to Tommy about.

“So, you’ll definitely go to the concert with me?”

“Yes,” Tommy answers. “When is it?”

“I’ll get tickets tonight. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. Thanks, Berk,” Tommy says.

I wave my hand in the air. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Looking forward to it. What other songs should I know about?” I ask.

The next hour, Tommy gives me an in-depth crash course on everything Garth Brooks. It’s the most I’ve ever heard him speak, and I’m so thankful that I was in that parking lot to hear that song coming from his truck.

The moment I step in the house, I already know—and it’s not good. Something about sadness has the power to transform a space. It’s nothing I can put my finger on exactly. Yet the change is palpable. My body chills as I breathe in, despair filling my lungs.

Before I go looking for London, I open the broom closet. I hid a gift basket in there for her—just in case. I figured it was the safest hiding spot. London doesn’t go searching for cleaning supplies often. I was hoping we’d be celebrating this month, but instead, I’m handing her a basket of things that say,I’m so sorry. I can’t give you a baby, but here’s some chocolate, gummy worms, wine, and a comedy. If we can’t have a baby, at least we can laugh at a classic Adam Sandler movie.

It’s lame, but it’s what I’ve got.

I enter the living room to find London sitting on the couch, wearing one of my T-shirts. Her long hair is balled atop her head in some sort of style resembling a messy bird’s nest. She sits cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by a layer of candy wrappers and tissues. She doesn’t seem to notice me come in, as her stare is focused on the TV.

“Are you watchingSpongeBob SquarePants?” I ask, confused.

London’s vacant eyes look down to the couch. She picks up a Dove chocolate wrapper and extends it out toward me.

I walk over and take it, reading it aloud, “Watch more cartoons, huh? What other life lessons are we taking from Dove today?”

She picks up another foil wrapper and hands it to me.

I read it aloud, “Rock a bad hair day.” I bite my lip to stop a chuckle. “Oh, London…” I sigh. “I told you to wait for me.”

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