Page 75 of The Ballad of Us
“To start thinking about our future. Really thinking about it. Marriage, family, all of it.” He glances over at me, wearing a vulnerable expression. “What do you think?”
My mind drifts to an image of a sunlit porch swing swaying slightly under tiny feet, laughter dancing softly in the air. A wave of warmth and longing washes over me at the thought. The idea of planning a future with Gray would’ve terrified me six months ago, but now it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
“I think I'd like to hear what you're thinking about when you think about our future,” I answer carefully.
“I'm thinking about a life where music, mountains, and morning coffee are all equally important. Where we support each other's dreams without losing ourselves in them. Where reformation is just part of how we live, not the center of everything we do.” Gray is the only man I’ve ever known to speak so poetically when he’s passionate.
I tear up at the picture he paints of our future together. “That sounds perfect.”
“It does, doesn't it?” Gray's smile is soft and hopeful. “Xavier says the best relationships in recovery are the ones where both people keep growing, individually and together.”
“Smart man.” I really like that he has Xavier in his life.
The conversation naturally shifts to another topic when both of our phones chime with a text message at the same time.
“What in the world?” Who would be messaging us both at the same time?
Pulling my phone from my purse, the screen comes to life with an alert from none other than Uncle Leslie. I read it and relay his message to Gray. “Apparently, Kip Knox and Henley Hendrix are in town, and Leslie thought we might want to connect.”
After an easy drive back to the village, Gray and I step out of the truck and instantly spot Leslie waiting on his front porch, signaling the start of the weekend's gathering.
“Perfect timing!” Leslie waves us over. “Kip and Henley just arrived, and they're dying to meet you both.”
The couple sitting on Leslie's porch swing is exactly what I'd expect from Leslie's description. Kip Knox is tall and lean with an impressive collection of tattoos and the kind of natural charisma that makes crowds swoon. His girlfriend, Henley, is striking in a rock-goddess way, with platinum hair and the confidence of a woman who owns every stage she steps onto. The woman exudes the kind of energy that suggests she’s either your best friend or your worst enemy, but she also has a peaceful air about her. Her partner seems more like a toddler who can’t sit still… or stop grinning.
“Gray fucking Garrison!” Kip jumps up from the swing with a grin that lights up his entire face. “I heard through the grapevine you were living up here, but I figured it was just industry gossip. Bruh, we’re only like two hours and change from here down in Macon.”
“Kip Knox,” Gray responds with equal enthusiasm, accepting a bone-crushing hug. “What are the odds?”
“Apparently pretty good when you're both friends with your favorite village uncle.” Henley stands to introduce herself, outstretching her hand to Gray. “Henley Hendrix. I've been listening to Case in Point since its inception.”
Henley Hendrix is tiny, measuring shorter than me at 5'5, and she’s petite. She’s one of the most beautiful celebrities I’ve ever seen up close. Most pictures are edited in some way, but she’s a knockout, indeed.
“This is Rhea. The woman who saved my life.” Gray pulls me forward with obvious pride.
“The woman who let you save your own life,” I correct, accepting hugs from both Kip and Henley as if this isn’t our first time meeting.
“Ooh, I like her already,” Henley says with approval. “Smart and beautiful. You've got good taste, Garrison.”
I bask under her approval for just a moment and allow a woman like her to boost me a little.
The evening is full of laughter as Kip recounts their latest tour days with four-year-old twin boys. The room smells of fresh coffee and Leslie’s French candles. Henley matches Kip’s energy, her laughter shining as brightly as the sun. Between clinking glasses and Leslie’s commentary on everything, the mood is warm and easy. This isn’t just a fun night. It’s more of a shared experience.
“So how did you and Leslie meet?” I ask during a brief lull in Kip's story about a particularly disastrous show in Memphis.
“Prison,” Kip says with a completely straight face, then breaks into laughter at my expression. “I’m just fucking with you! We both have a soft spot for the unfortunate. I rescue horses from sex clubs, and he rescues… well, everyone.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about Jack anymore,” Leslie chides gently, though he's clearly delighted by Kip's irreverence over him.
“Jack is a good boy.” Kip glares in Leslie’s direction, challenging him to disagree.
“That fucking horse tried to mount me!” Leslie exclaims.
I don’t have the first clue what they’re talking about or whether the two jokers are even being serious. “Who’s Jack?”
“Oh! Let me catch you up, Suga Boo Boo,” Leslie says, before he shushes Kip’s attempt to answer my question. “Jack is the poor horse soul who was being victimized at a club known for certain vile acts, and Kip discovered him.” Leslie signs the cross. “Bless him, if it hadn’t been for Kip, that poor horse would’ve known such a cruel and unfortunate life and likely a worse ending.”
“Jack’s my emotional support horse,” Kip tacks on. “I rescued him from Miami, rode him down the streets with my best friend’s girlfriend, and took him to my hotel room, but an undisclosed snitch ratted us out. We had to relocate Jack until I could get him back to Macon.”
