Page 75 of Hold Still

We got married when I was young. You weren’t there to share college with me. When we talked, I brought up what was going on in my life, but you never seemed too interested. If I mentioned a guy~even my professor ~ you always got so jealous.

And I was so hurt that you didn’t wear my wedding ring when you were away. I know it was Platinum’s idea, but all the photos of you at parties gutted me. But that’s no excuse for what happened.

Luis was on the island when you weren’t. He listened to me. He encouraged me to pursue my dreams. I never meant for you to find out about us the way you did.

My life is different now. I got a job in the government and Luis and I are just friends. I hope someday we can be friends, too.

I did love you. If nothing else, please believe that.

I truly wish you all the best.

Fondly,

Teresa

Well, shit. My brain transports me back and I go through our conversations again. Teresa’s not wrong. McKenna pointed this out right away. But, still—I never cheated on my wife.

I’m brought up short. I haven’t referred to Teresa as my wife in years.

Mind in disarray, I reach out for my lifeline and text McKenna. Not my usual smartass line, but instead I ask if she can come over. Her response is immediate and affirmative.

Standing, I bring the now-crumpled notebook paper into the office and drop it on the desk next to the clock, which reads noon. Maybe I’ll show it to McKenna. Maybe not—no need to prove I was a total jerk. Best to let her onlythinkI was, no confirmation needed.

I’m in no mood to cook so I pull out a takeout Mexican menu and place an order for our dinner to be delivered later. Then, I pull two bottles out of the fridge. McKenna rings the bell less than an hour later. Bans beats me to the door, growling.

“Bans, no. The bad people are gone.” She seems to understand what I say as she turns and walks to her bed.

I open the door and the sunlight hits McKenna as if it were a spotlight. Pulled forward, I wrap her in my arms. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She returns my embrace. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to see me again, after last night.”

Looking down at her, I shake my head. “No way. Only made me more intrigued. Come on in.” As she passes, I inquire about her mother.

“She’s much better this morning, thanks for asking. Elaine, her day nurse, is with her now.”

When we reach the patio, I hand her a Mexican cerveza. “I ordered Mexican for dinner, hope that’s okay?”

She clinks the necks of our bottles together. “More than okay.”

We smile and enjoy the relative cool breeze and drink our beers. We discuss her mother’s condition, and how much Elaine takes some of the burden from her shoulders. I’m impressed with my girl’s resilience.

She puts her bottle down on the concrete. “What’s wrong?”

I finish off my beer. “That obvious?”

Her lips curl upward, into a half-smile. “I’m getting to know Ozzy-isms.”

“Yeah, well.” I cross my leg over my knee. “Ginger brought Luis here today. She expected us to write the rest of the album together.”

She gasps. “I hope you told them to pound sand.”

A small chuckle escapes, despite my mood. “I kinda did. I told Ginger I’ve written a few songs and don’t need his help. I let her know my band is my new collaborator.” I pause. “I should’ve said I have a super-sexy and inspiring new muse, too.”

I reach out and grab her by the middle and drag her onto my lap. Both of her legs dangle off the side of my right one. Tracing her leg with my fingertip, I say, “Because I do.”

She giggles. “I’ve never been a muse before.” Her eyes get wide. “Do I have to do anything special?”

All thoughts about Luis and Ginger and Teresa and songs flee, as images of how McKenna can “feed my muse” overtake them. Over a harsh intake of breath, I lean into her ear, “Oh, yes. There are several things you have to do to keep my muse pumping out songs.”

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