Page 126 of Sky Full of Stars

“What?”

“Things are gonna be different now, aren’t they?”

I know exactly what he means but don’t know how to articulate it right now. I’m on the verge of puking, my head is pounding and my heart aching over what might have happened.

“You know, LA never really sat right with me.” I whip my head up to look at him. He chuckles a little. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s been good to us and we needed to be there to get where we are now, but things change. Life’s fluid you know, sometimes, situations out of our control can make things turn on a dime, or you meet someone,” his lip tilts in a smile. “That changes everything. And when that happens, man…Who are we to stop it? I just want you to know that personally, I’ll be happy to move and I’m glad we’re spending time in New York.”

“Jordan hates the idea.”

He shrugs. “Jordan hated LA when we got there,” he reminds me. “He’s adaptable and fuck, we don’t have to be together all the time, if he wants to split his time, hell any of us can do that. It isn’t like money and travel is a problem for us.”

“I appreciate you saying all this, Nick. Seriously. This whole thing put everything into perspective for me. I never expected to meet and fall for a girl the way I have with Jenna. But she’s perfect and I…” I tip my head thinking how I want to put this. “I just can’t imagine a day without her there. It’s fucking insane.”

“It’s love, my man. Arch is right, the mighty has fallen. Happens to the worst of us,” he slaps my shoulder again. “Come on, we need to get to the airport.”

I stop him from turning pulling him into a hug, letting him know what it means to me he is going to back me up. It will be tough convincing the others but at least if I have Nick on my side, discussions will hopefully go a little easier.

I’ve never been to Brooklyn, but what I see of it, I like. Jenna’s mom lives in the heart of the DUMBO area, with its beautiful old, converted lofts and artistic vibes.

“Shit this place must cost a fortune,” Jordan says as we pull up at the address.

He takes out his phone as Stone and DiMarco get out ensuring it’s clear for us. I couldn’t stop the guys coming. I don’t know how Jenna will react, or her mom, having the whole band descend on them but they are like leaches, they won’t unstick.

“Holy shizzballs,” Jordan exclaims, making us all turn to look at him. “Two bed condos go for upwards of one and a half mil here. There is one on this site for nineteen million. Who is Jenna’s mom and what did she do to get a place in this neighbourhood?”

“I think she bought it over ten years ago, before prices skyrocketed.”

“Well, it’s awesome. And with a name like DUMBO, who wouldn’t wanna live here?”

Nick and I exchange a look. Archer catches it but doesn’t comment. When we’re given the all clear, we get out of the SUV and approach the warehouse building. Stone has already hit the buzzer and is talking to the woman who answers. The door unlocks and she tells Stone to take the elevator to the top floor.

“Penthouse,” Jordan whistles. “I think I want to adopt Mrs Montanari.”

“Jordan, dial it down,” Nick tells him.

We all pile into the elevator, which is big enough to fit a car, the whole place has been refurbished, while still keeping the integrity of original architecture with brick walls and high ceilings.

“What? You think I don’t intend to embarrass our boy here in front of the mother-in-law. I can’t wait.”

I roll my eyes but don’t comment. I’m not nervous about meeting Jenna’s mom, I just want to see Jenna, to see with my own eyes that she is okay. The doors open onto a wide corridor, there are huge floor to ceiling windows at the far end and a front door, the only one on the floor, mid-way between the window and elevator.

“Reminds me of that movie, Ghost. They live in a ridiculously huge loft like this.”

Even Archer starts to sound impressed.

“Dude, you’ve seen Ghost?” Nick’s brows rise.

“It’s classic Swayze. Shut the fuck up,” he storms to the door when Nick laughs.

“Wonder if Jenna’s mom is into pottery,” Jordan muses.

She may have got this place before prices in Brooklyn went nuts, but she also had her husband’s life insurance policy to buy it, and her mom is an artist, so it’s the ideal place for her. I’ve seen a couple of her paintings and know she is good at what she does.

The door opens as we reach it and I get my first in person look at Jenna’s mom. She’s wearing a pair of denim overalls that are rolled up her calves and covered in paint. The black t-shirt beneath it is spotless. Her dark hair is piled on her head in a haphazard bun, she has green Doc Martins on her feet and is wearing red glasses. She’s way smaller than Jenna, around five three but she looks exactly like her daughter, with the same brilliant blue eyes and huge smile.

“Well, you’re not the Rolling Stones, but you’ll do,” she greets us.

“Mama Montanari!” Jordan says approaching her, his arms wide. To my surprise she welcomes the hug.

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