Infinite Harmony

by Tammy Blackwell

  “Hey, I know you guys are waiting for the band to come on,” he said to the audience, “but you’re going to have to endure an opening act first.” There were a few good-natured groans, and Joshua laughed. “Don’t worry,” he assured them. “I’m only singing one song.”

  He took a few minutes to mess around with the strings. When he finally had everything to his liking, he walked back up to the mic. Even though they were a good thirty feet above the stage, Ada felt like he was peering into her eyes.

  “I haven’t played for an audience in a long time, and I honestly thought I never would again, but it turns out, I met a girl recently who makes me want to do all sorts of things I thought I would never do again.” The crowd cheered, and Ada’s heart blazed in her chest. She wanted to cheer too, but she’d been rendered speechless. “This song is for Ada.” This time she was certain he was looking straight at her as a giant smile spread across his face. “I hope you like it.”

  Some songs are sacred. Recorded perfection which should never be tainted by another artist. The song Joshua sang had been one of the most sacred to Ada, but she couldn’t deny the goose bumps running up and down her arms and tears stinging her eyes as he belted out the first verse. He didn’t even bother with the guitar until he hit the chorus. It was just his voice floating out over the night, inviting the stars to dance along. She didn’t know where the other musicians came from, but by the second chorus there was a full band accompaniment and the entire crowd was bidding Miss American Pie goodbye. Through it all, Joshua’s eyes stayed locked on hers, as if he could see into her soul from a distance. When the song ended with thunderous applause, Ada was certain of one thing: Joshua the Immortal was going to break her heart.

  Chapter 21

  Ada didn’t keep up with modern music, but she knew the band who was rocking out on the stage below. They were even better than she was expecting, the singer’s voice even clearer and more potent in person. She leaned against the railing, listening with all her might as a breeze tossed around the leaves above her and tickled the back of her neck while she considered what two things she wanted to add to her list when she got home.

  There wasn’t anything to announce his presence, no noise or falling shadow, but Ada still knew the moment Joshua walked up behind her.

  “You came,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him. Her back was pressed to his chest, and her head stood at the perfect height for him to rest his chin there. There were more than a dozen other people on the deck and several hundred milling around down below, but in the dark, beneath the shade of the trees, it felt as if they were the only two people on earth.

  Ada relaxed against him, trying to memorize the feel of being in his arms. “Of course I came,” she said. “The song was perfect. You’re very talented.”

  In this position, when he shrugged, so did she. “I had some lessons.”

  “From who? Don McLean?”

  Something brushed her neck. She thought it might have been lips.

  “Lou Reed, actually.”

  There was no way to tell if he was kidding or not.

  “How did you know it was my favorite song? You didn’t hack my iTunes account and see what song I play the most, did you?”

  She could feel the rumbled of his chuckle vibrating out of his chest and into her back. “No, I learned my lesson about not being a creepy stalker last night, thank you very much. I simply played the odds. It’s ‘American Pie.’ I wasn’t sure it was your favorite song, but it had to be in the top ten, or I would declare you a communist and demand you be shipped back to Mother Russia.”

  “I don’t think Russia is a communist nation anymore.”

  “Well, then I’ll send you to some tiny, non-civilization in the middle of Siberia where they don’t know that yet.”

  On the stage, the band switched to a familiar ballad. Ada closed her eyes, letting the music and night wash over her. This she decided. This is what happiness feels like.

  “Dance with me.” Joshua’s breath was even warmer than the night air against her ear.

  “I thought I was,” she replied, swaying back and forth in his arms.

  “I want to look at you.”

  It was all the invitation she needed. She turned and threaded her hands behind his neck as he took hold of her hips. The humidity had his hair flipping out in weird directions and plastered his Rock the Vote t-shirt to his chest. He was a rock star, and Ada wondered how she didn’t see it the first time they met.

  She caught a glimpse of Jase over Joshua’s shoulder. He was pouring champagne into glasses, and if she wasn’t mistaken, the label on the side said Cristal. He caught her eye and raised one glass toward her in salute and winked.

  “I wish this was my real life,” she said to Joshua, trying to imagine an existence where private rock concerts and expensive champagne counted as normal.

  “It could be, you know.”

  Ada shook her head as she watched Liam sweep Scout into his arms and waltz her around the deck. “No, it can’t. My father would have a heart attack and ground me until I was thirty if he knew I was here. Reverend Jessup is very anti-parties, rock concerts… basically, if it’s fun, it’s forbidden.”

  The song ended, but they didn’t change positions. They’d stopped moving their feet a long time ago anyway.

  “You know what I’ve noticed?” Joshua said. “You say you want to live your life, but what you do is live the life they want you to live.”

  His words stung, and Ada wanted to lash out and tell him he didn’t know what he was talking about, but on the heel of that thought was the realization he was right. How many items on her list remained uncrossed simply because her parents wouldn’t approve? How many times had she felt pulled down one path only to turn away because it wasn’t the road her father would have chosen for her?

  “You don’t understand. They’re my parents.” They had held her hand through every doctor’s visit, medical test, and hospital stay, never once leaving her alone to fight the fear by herself. Her mother had even quit her job as a teacher, a job she loved, to stay home and homeschool Ada when it was too hard for her to keep up with her regular classwork after being in the hospital four different times in the second grade. “They love me. I can’t break their hearts willingly. I’m not that kind of person.”

  “But do they even know you? Maybe you should give them an opportunity to love the real Ada.”

  It sounded so easy when he said it. Just tell them who you really are and let them accept that person for who she is. Right. It would happen just like that. Right after snow fell in Kentucky on the Fourth of July.

  “What if you weren’t sick?” he asked. “What if…” He paused to collect his thoughts, or perhaps decide if he should venture forward. “What if you were immortal?”

  Ada’s heart stopped in her chest and then restarted at three times its normal speed. What was he saying? Surely not what she thought he was saying.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she forced out, surprised by how even and normal her voice sounded. “I’m not immortal. I’m chronically ill with a disease that will eventually kill me. That is about as opposite of immortal as you can get.”

  She was dying. He would live forever. Talk about a relationship doomed from the beginning. It was probably a good thing the whole summer-fling thing gave it such a short lifespan. Given enough time, they could really crush each other’s souls to smithereens.

  “But what if you were?” he asked, searching her eyes. “What if it was an option?”

  Just when she thought her heart couldn’t beat any faster, it sped up yet again.

  Is it an option?

  Jesus. What if it was an option?

  She couldn’t ask. She shouldn’t even be thinking about it. One of life’s earliest lessons was that hope is a powerful, dangerous thing. The last thing she wanted was a refresher course.

  He was still waiting, not seeing the answer he was looking for on her face. What was he expectin
g? His face was just as closed off as hers, and she didn’t know if he wanted her to take him up on the implied offer, or if he was just testing her. If it was a test, what was the objective? To see if she was selfish enough to snatch up something she didn’t deserve? Or maybe to see if she was hanging out with him for ulterior motives? After all, what dying kid wouldn’t want to befriend an Immortal in hopes of learning his secret?

  Of course, he might have been talking in the purely hypothetical. For all Ada knew, there was no secret to becoming immortal. He was probably born that way. And knowing Joshua, he really was interested in what she would do with an infinite number of days.

  So she gave it some serious thought. She thought about all the things she would get to see, all the things she would get to do. She thought about how much she wanted what Joshua often times seemed to regret having, and instead of giving the answer in her heart, she gave the one in his.

  “It isn’t an option for me, and it shouldn’t be for anyone,” she said. “No one should have to live so long they see everyone and everything they love die.” She could feel the truth in her words. The effect wasn’t what she expected. It didn’t kill her visions of grand adventures. They were still there, traipsing through the Alps and sailing down the eastern coast. The only difference was the feeling of profound loneliness sitting in the pit of her stomach. What was the point of living your dreams if there was no one to share the memories with? “No one should have to spend eternity alone.” Her heart twisted. “You shouldn’t have to spend eternity alone.”

  “Hey, it’s not all that bad.” He smiled, but it was as fake as the heart tattoo on Angel’s ankle. “And I’m not alone. I’m here with you right now, aren’t I?” There was a noise, a manly version of a squeal, and then a burst of laughter from the other people on the deck. “And I have all these idiots I call friends. I’m not alone.”

  Right now, Ada thought. You’re surrounded by your idiot friends right now. But one day he would have to bury each and every one of them.

  “How does that work?”

  Joshua was staring at her eyes, and not in the gazing-lovingly kind of way. This was more of a when-was-the-last-time-you-plucked-your-eyebrows kind of stare.

  “How does what work?”

  “Your I’m-thinking-deep-thoughts face. How does that work?”

  Around them people were drinking, dancing, and laughing just like there were supposed to be, so the glitch had to be with Joshua and not a major malfunction in the Matrix.

  “Are you making sense?” she asked.

  “Your eyes,” he said. “When you’re deep in thought, you scrunch up the inside corners of your eyes. Not the whole eye, just…” his thumb traced the downward slope on the left side of her nose, “here, and…” the pad of his finger trailed over the other side, “and here. It’s adorable, but I have no idea how you do it. I don’t think those muscles are supposed to work that way.”

  He noticed the way her eyes moved when she was thinking?

  He was making it impossible not to fall in love with him.

  “You realize I’m going to have to kiss you now,” she warned just before pressing her mouth to his. She’d only kissed him twice before, but his lips felt achingly familiar as they moved against hers. They were both aware of the crowd surrounding them, so it was over almost as soon as it started, but it was still enough to make Ada’s heart pound in her chest and all thoughts of how sad and lonely his long life must be to flee her brain.

  A squeal interrupted their post-kiss dreamy-eyedness, and for a moment Ada thought Angel had once again ruined their perfect moment, but then she saw Scout tossed over Liam’s shoulder. “Put me down, you great big bully,” she said to his butt.

  “It’s been fun,” Liam said, “but it’s time I take my wife…“

  “We’re not married yet.”

  “…back to our cabin…“

  “The cabin we’re sharing with my parents?”

  “…and make sure she gets her beauty sleep before tomorrow.” He gave her butt a slap, and she bit his hip. He made a noise in his throat that sounded a lot like a growl. “That’s it, woman. You’re in for it now,” he said, carrying her back toward the main road. Scout tried to protest, but her squeals and giggles kept getting in the way.

  “They really love each other, don’t they?" Ada asked as they disappeared from sight.

  “They do,” Joshua said, hugging her against him. Her hands had slid from his neck to his shoulders when they kissed, but as he pulled her closer, she wrapped them around his waist. Her head rested on his chest, and she could faintly hear the thump-thump-thump of his heart. “They were made for each other. Quite literally, if you believe that whole Lilith and Wolf story. Scout acts like she’s annoyed by this whole wedding thing, but secretly she’s thrilled. She wants to be his wife and for everyone to know it.”

  “And Liam?”

  “If Scout were a religion, Liam would be the pope. He worships her with wild abandon. It’s sickening, really.”

  Ada moved her head so she could see his face. He was smiling one of his real, face-transforming smiles. “You look sickened,” she teased.

  “They’re my friends,” he said, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose. “They’re happy, and it makes me happy.”

  And you being happy makes me happy.

  She almost said it, but she didn’t. He may be making it impossible for her to not love him, but she refused to give him everything. Admitting how much she cared for him aloud would be making it too real, giving him too much of her.

  “Tomorrow is the wedding,” she said wistfully, trying to imagine what a future as someone’s wife would be like. She would never know. She’d decided a long time ago she wouldn’t ever burden someone with a sick wife. Maybe it was why she’d stayed with Marsden so long. If they had ended up married, she wouldn’t have really been a hardship for him to bear. He would have been overjoyed to martyr himself by taking care of his sick wife in the name of God. “This place will be a ghost town by Monday morning.”

  One of Ada’s favorite things about talking to Joshua was how she didn’t have to say everything she was thinking for him to get it. It was like he could see the millions of thoughts simultaneously swirling in her head and make more sense out of them than she could. It made conversations easy and fast. The few times Kinsey had tried to join in, she complained she couldn’t keep up with what they were talking about, but Ada and Joshua didn’t have that problem. They always knew exactly what the other meant.

  For example, Joshua knew “this place is going to be a ghost town by Monday morning” meant “you’re leaving me soon.” And he didn’t even have to say anything for Ada to know how he felt about it. She could see the regret in his eyes.

  “You could come with us,” he said. It took Ada a moment to realize he wasn’t kidding.

  “I can’t—” she began, but he cut her off.

  “I know,” he said. “Your family.”

  “My family,” she agreed, although that was only part of it. The other part was filled with breathing treatments, vibrating vests, and a mountain of pills. Joshua knew she was sick, and she thought he might actually understand how it impacted who she was and how she led her life, but she didn’t want him to understand the harsh day-to-day realities of it. Maybe it was a form of vanity making her want to appear healthy to the rest of the world, and especially Joshua, but it didn’t change how she felt about the matter.

  She couldn’t go with him, and she knew without asking, he couldn’t stay with her. He had responsibilities that didn’t include sticking around a tiny lake town in Kentucky.

  They only had this one week, but Ada knew it would be the week the rest of her life was measured against. Every person she met would be weighed against Joshua. Every flash of happiness compared to the moments of true contentment she felt just being near him. The memories would eventually fade, but she would always be able to recall with perfect clarity the warmth radiating from beneath her breastbone.

&
nbsp; And this night, this one perfect night of starlight, music, and being in his arms, would get her through the long, lonely nights in the hospital when she fought for breath and the will to keep trying.

  She wondered what this past week would mean to him. What was a single week in an infinity of days? Would her name and the way she laughed at his jokes fade until eventually he didn’t remember her at all?

  Ada was selfish enough to hope not.

  “I’m going to miss you,” she said, hugging him closer. His arms tightened around her as well, making it hard to breathe, but she didn’t care. She’d gone without oxygen plenty of times before. This was the first time she had to leave Joshua.

  “No,” he said, sounding severe. “Not on your life, Ada Jessup. We are not saying goodbye. Not now. We have time.”

  In her short time on earth, Ada had come to realize strength comes in many forms. Sometimes strength was pasting a smile on your face and firing up the X-Box with your friend when everyone knew death was knocking on their door. Sometimes strength was pushing past the pain and exhaustion to take the next step and the one after that. Sometimes strength was as simple as drawing that next breath of air into your lungs. And sometimes strength was saying goodbye when all you wanted to do was stay as long as possible.

  His eyes were pleading when she finally felt brave enough to meet them. White Christmas lights outlined the deck, and between their soft glow and the moon, she had an unhindered view of his face. He was gorgeous. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but to Ada, there was no face more perfect.

  “You’ll be at the wedding all day tomorrow—“

  “You can be, too. You’ll be my date.”

  Ada shook her head. “I have to work. And tomorrow should be about your friends.”

  “Every day is about my friends. What if I want a day to be about me? About us?”

  There was an ache between Ada’s breasts as if her heart was being squeezed or maybe exploding. Perhaps it was doing both at the same time.

  “As a wise troubadour once said, ‘We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow?’”