Page 76 of The River in Spring
I feel Deborah’s nerves coming to the surface. Her face is pinched, and she’s hardly blinked in the last minute. I am perfectly calm. It comes from knowing this is meant to be. Not that I had a vision, or any kind of premonition. It’s because what I am doing feels right.
She pulls over against the curb.
“Okay, there is no talking you out of this, Dove. Just, no matter how this turns out, whether he’s happy to see you or not, get your ass back by tomorrow night.”
“I will. Promise.”
“And don’t let Arthur know you’re anything but perfectly happy. Fuck. This is a bad idea.”
I look her in the eyes. “No it isn’t. It’s the best idea I’ve ever had.”
She gives up trying to talk me out of it, a deep sigh the final comment.
If I didn’t make a stand for us and let Nobel know I’m a fighter, I deserve to be without him. I’ve given him time to come to his senses. Maybe he needs me to come to mine. I refuse to let this love go, as if it was some shallow thing. I’m going to go get him. And the man is coming back with me, if I have to beg, scream, cry, or run naked through the city. There’s no weakness in my faith.
All the way from the airport to his house is a practice in staying calm. It’s not nerves or doubt that makes my stomach twist. It’s excitement. That is how sure I am.
The Uber driver makes the final turn onto the property. How strange. It seems like I have been gone for years, not weeks. Like I have arrived in a new world. My senses notice it all. Something is different. Maybe everything. What has made each thing change? The warmth of sunlight on the Sycamores was always there. The way the birds are flying in perfect harmony in the big sky? I’ve seen it countless times. But change has happened. It’s the big picture, all consuming, magical feeling that settles in my heart.
We take the final curve in the road leading to the house, and a car I don’t recognize approaches with someone in the backseat. As we come closer, it slows.
“Wait, driver!”
We slow to a crawl. And as the cars pass, time slows too. Our eyes meet and lock at the exact same moment. He says something to the driver, just as I say to mine.
“Stop!”
There’s a frenzied excitement to get out of the car and into each other’s arms. I throw the door open and slide out. Nobel’s door won’t budge, and he yells impatiently to the driver, who pops the lock. He’s out. Kissing me, touching my hair. Saying everything in a look. His embrace is like slipping a key into the front door. We both have tears in our eyes.
He leans in, holds me close and whispers, “I don’t want to be invisible anymore.”
My lips graze his ear and I whisper back, “You won’t be. I’ve come to wreck your plans and take you home.”
We were born to walk this life together, the two of us. In perfect parallels and intersecting lines.
I kiss the man who fell to earth for me.
Epilogue
Nobel
One year later
I didn’t know what love was. A clueless stranger in a strange land. But I got educated on what to cling to and what to let go. Now I think I could write the prologue of a book about how it shapes a man. It would be a bestseller. I sound like a fucking fool waxing poetic, and maybe I am. But this past year has schooled me in the art of the beginning.
Dove has schooled me. Just by example.
The woman knows how to love. I feel it when I’m with her and carry it when we are apart. I am sure of it, despite knowing some have come to regret the naïveté of being so certain. Love has fallen apart for lovers where no doubt existed. Smoke getting in their eyes. That’s not us.
We look with clear vision, at both the magic and the mundane. Knowing our love is forever has made me trust the journey. The more I surrender, the further it takes me. I have left all thoughts of the world that was before.
There’s nothing routine about our lives. Never thought that would be a plus. Not when sameness was my previous default setting. Thought it was my comfort zone, right along with solitude. Shortsightedness was the problem. Living in the comfort zone has nothing on living fully in the moment.
I have grown to like the uniqueness of each city. Even crowds of fans can be fun, if controlled. And whenever it becomes too loud or crazy for my tastes, I find a way to quiet. I can be alone anytime I want. Nothing holds me back from doing my own thing. Thing is, I don’t want to that often. To that end, taking a year-long sabbatical from the law has worked great. Next month I start back, and it will feel good to have my own thing to concentrate on again. Allegedly. I will see.
We have come full circle tonight. The return to McCandy’s for the band’s tip of the hat. The club that gave Montana their break was all too happy to agree to a one-night appearance from music’s newest find. There has been no announcement or heads up to the public. That would have been a colossal mistake. Instead, we figured out seating for our friends and families, the VIP’s of our lives, and advertised as if the patrons will be seeing a new group. The reputation of the club tells them whoever appears here is going to put on a good show. The usual crowds are anticipated.
When I peeked outside to see the patrons gathering, I noticed two old friends. The girls that were in line with me that first night are here again. How cool. Only their hair has changed. One sports a pink do and the other blonde. Hope they get inside. If not, I’m going to make sure it happens.
