Page 40 of More Than Falling in Love

“Yep.”

He sighs and faces Poppy.“I have to get up early to help with chores.”

She tousles his hair.“I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Good.”Mason tosses his book on the table, then stands and stretches.“Night, Dad.”He gives me a big hug.“Night, Poppy.”He holds her a second longer than usual.After picking up the butterfly book Poppy gave him earlier today, he darts down the hall.“I’m just going to hold it while I sleep.”

“I think he’s going to hide under the covers and read it.”She pushes off the couch.

“You’re probably right.”I open the door and follow her out.“Thanks for coming over.I wasn’t sure if you’d have time.Your poor dad has hardly seen you.”

Poppy crosses her arms.“Dad isn’t the reason I came back so soon.”

Before I have an inkling of how to reply, she steps off the porch and walks toward Ava’s.

I slip inside and check on Mason.He’s curled up on his side with the book clutched to his chest, and he’s fast asleep.I press a kiss to his forehead and adjust his covers.

Then I go into my closet and pull the guitar case out of the back corner.I haven’t played this in years.For a few months after my wife left, it was my sanity.But as time went on, I put it aside.

It’s probably out of tune and in need of new strings.After running a hand over the cheap guitar, I slip out the back door.The small porch backs up to trees and offers a hidden area to indulge my need to dance my fingers on the strings.

Eyes closed, I play the first string, then turn the peg, tuning the string to the right note.I repeat the process for each string, then start playing.

Muscle memory kicks in and I strum a song I’ve played a hundred times.Then I move onto a song I started composing but never finished.Lyrics were never my strong suit, but this melody has bubbled in my head for a long time.

Picking out the notes, I play the parts I remember, wishing I’d written it out somewhere.As I play, more of the song comes back to me.Why have I waited so long to get this out?I’ve never wanted to play for an audience, but the music is a balm.

“That’s beautiful.”Poppy is standing next to my back porch.“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was walking and heard the music.”

“I haven’t played this thing in years.It barely stays tuned.”

She tentatively climbs the steps.“Mind if I listen while you play?”

“That’s fine.”I nod toward the other chair.

She takes a seat and pulls her knees to her chest.With her arms wrapped around those butterfly pajama pants, she smiles.“Thanks.”

From the beginning, I play the song again.It’s the first time I’ve ever played it for someone.And I can count the times I’ve played any song in front of anyone at all.

“What song is that?”

“Something I wrote.That’s all I have.No words or anything.”

“I like it.”

“No one here knows I play.”I’m hoping she’ll understand that I don’t want that news to spread.

She reaches out and brushes a finger on my arm.“Is everything okay?I feel horrible about this morning, and at breakfast and again tonight, it seemed like…” She shrugs, then rests her head on her knees.“If you’re worried that I’m going to get too busy for Mason at some point, I want to reassure you.I’ve thought about this.With Dad here, I feel connected to this place.It helps that everyone is so amazing.But when I bought that book and agreed to reading time that second night, I did it knowing that he deserves a steady presence and not someone who comes and goes.”

I strum on the guitar, letting her words sink in.“But your time won’t always be your own.”

“Phooey.I’m not saying I’ll be able to do reading every night.But I make it a priority.One night, I called from a hotel bathroom.”

“You what?”

“There was a party I had to attend, but he was starting a new book and so excited.I just held the camera so that you couldn’t see my dress.”

I close my eyes, wishing I had that visual.“You don’t know what that means to me.”

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