After the Rain

by Bruce, Brandy

  “You writing your own music?” Jack pushed.

  “Yeah, mostly,” Ben answered, moving to stand by me. I didn’t know quite what was going on, but the vibe seemed to have shifted. I took Ben’s hand in mine.

  “I need a smoke. I’ll be back,” Scotty said, taking off toward the door.

  “You ever see Jane anymore?” Jack asked, and there was trepidation in his voice but not malice.

  Ben’s grip on my hand got a little more intense. “I haven’t seen her in years.”

  Jack nodded. “It’s good to see you, Ben. You were one of us—then you weren’t.”

  “That wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own. I needed to change some things in my life. And I’m happy for you guys.”

  “Scotty would help you, if you wanted connections or anything. We all would. We owe you.” Jack looked at me. “You know he wrote ‘Starfall,’ right?”

  “Huh?” I racked my brain, trying to think of where I’d heard of that.

  “Our first hit. The one that put us on the map. That one’s Ben’s.”

  Ben sucked in a shallow breath. “Long time ago. Scotty does it justice.”

  Then Scotty was back, laughing too loud at something on his way back to us. I winced as he crashed into Ben, putting an arm around his shoulders. Ben didn’t even flinch. He just steadied Scotty.

  “You should fly back out to L.A. with us, Ben. Bring your girl. We’ll get you signed. I can pull strings if I have to. What’s the name of your band?”

  “Twenty-Four Tears. But I work full-time for a church too. So that trip will have to be put on hold. I appreciate it, though, Scotty. Really. And I’ll do better at staying in touch this time.”

  Scotty shook his head and suddenly there was this weight of emotion between the three guys. In a room crowded with people, filled with laughter, lots of alcohol, and the smell of weed getting stronger—there were these three guys with a history so deep that I could feel it. And I looked at Ben, wondering what was going through his mind, what he was feeling. He was watching Scotty; then he stepped closer to him. And Jack closed in closer as well.

  “Your new album is killer, Scotty,” Ben said finally. Those red eyes jerked up and met Ben’s.

  “You checked it out, huh?”

  “Every song. It’s gold.”

  The look on Scotty’s face was a mix of gratitude and heavy emotion. Jack nodded at Ben, emotion in his eyes as well. “Thanks, man. I think it’s our best.”

  About an hour later, Ben and I made our way back out to his jeep, walking slowly, holding hands under a clear, cold Colorado sky. I shivered, tightening my jacket and staying close to Ben.

  “You wrote ‘Starfall’?” I echoed.

  He sighed. “Yeah. Another life.” We reached the jeep and stopped.

  It dawned on me then. “You’re not afraid of failure or rejection or disappointment.” I squinted at him, trying to read his reaction. “It’s the opposite, right? You’re afraid of success.”

  “I would argue that my definition of success might be different from what you’re thinking.”

  The image of Scotty was stark in my mind. “Okay. I’ll give you that.” We were both quiet for a moment. I had to know more. “But, Ben, is that fair to Karis and the others?”

  “Is what fair? We’ve cut songs; we play every month. I’m not trying to sabotage Twenty-Four Tears, Debra.”

  True enough, but still. “You know you have to want it bad to make it in the music industry. And you don’t.”

  He sighed. “It’s not that…well, maybe partly. But I’m content. I don’t want to hold anyone back, and I’m not trying to. Karis’s got her mom, and Xander’s tied to his job—they need insurance for the new baby. He can’t pick up and leave. And me ... am I leery of success? You saw Scotty. That’s not a road I want to go down. And I’m not immune to temptation. I was just like them, Deb. Those guys were my best friends. I still care about them. I always will, but that’s not the life I’m looking for.”

  I understood. We stood there in the stadium parking lot, which was more like just gravel, the moon high over us. Ben opened the jeep door for me and held it. I stepped up and then turned to face him. We were so close, I could see his breathing turn shallow and his eyes zero in on me.

  “You could be great, Ben. You’ve got so much talent, and you’re grounded enough that I think you would stay true to who you are, whatever came your way.”

  I could tell, from that longing in his eyes and the way his gaze kept lowering to my mouth, that kisses had overtaken music in Ben’s mind.

  My breathing shallowed as well. The sounds of tires on gravel filled my ears. The looming rock formations were the backdrop to our moment.

  I’d met so many musicians over the years, so many people with ability and a dream. Ninety-five percent of them didn’t make it big. But I knew, instinctively, that Ben was more than talent. He was energy and appeal and authenticity. Combined with the talent I knew he had—he was a rock star already. In the way he would drop everything to help a friend. In the way he could lead a crowd to worship. In the way he was the same, down-to-earth guy singing in a bar to thirty people or hanging out backstage with someone perched precariously at the top of the music charts. He was just Ben, standing there, silently asking me to stop talking and kiss him.

  “Maybe it’s your turn to be brave,” I whispered. He sighed, then moved one hand to my back and pulled me close to him. And both my arms wrapped around his waist. I felt an incredible sense of relief, as though I hadn’t realized how much I needed to touch him and how much he needed to touch me.

  “You think I’m not?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid. Maybe you are too.”

  He frowned. “Are you afraid of me, Deb?”

  “Not exactly. I’m afraid I’ll try and then everything will fall apart. Or you’ll change your mind. There’s no guarantee you wouldn’t, Ben. No matter what you might say, you could change your mind.” I suddenly shook all over at the reminder.

  “You could change yours,” he countered. “That’s not a reason not to try.” He leaned down. “Please, Deb,” he whispered. And the break in his voice was like twinkle lights during summer or aged red wine or the perfect melody—it drew me in and made me want to stay right where I was, wrapped up in Ben.

  “What if you’re just a rebound fling for me, Ben Price?” I said, forcing those thoughts out loud, needing to be honest.

  He just chuckled, unaffected, and leaned in for a kiss I couldn’t—wouldn’t—fight. “I’ll take that chance. And if it’s true, I’ll probably end up writing a song about you.”

  Sunday morning, I felt guilty—guilty that even after our late night, Ben was up and leading worship at the crack of dawn. So I dragged myself to church, snuck in late, and found a seat in the back. Ben was already singing. The song segued from a modern worship song to an old hymn, and I watched as Ben closed his eyes, raised both hands, and sang out like there weren’t hundreds of us watching.

  And the music moved me.

  I thought of Paige, telling me to be open, to go with whatever I felt, no matter what anyone thought. Not Ben. Not the people sitting near me. Not the people I’d left behind in Texas. Not my family.

  I sat in the pew for a moment, my eyes shut, letting the song seep into me.

  As the music rose up inside me, I stood on shaky legs and let myself sing—my heart crying out the words before they ever left my lips.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The best things happen while you’re dancing.

  White Christmas

  I’m in love with October in Colorado,” I told Lily via Facetime on my iPhone almost a week later. “Cornflower-blue snow-capped mountains, bright yellow aspen leaves, cool breezes, and cider at Starbucks.”

  “That sounds like a movie. Delicious and beautiful. Well, I’m in love with this little guy. He’s the spitting image of his daddy,” Lily said. She held up Logan for me to see. To me, he looked very small and not at all like Sam, but I kept tho
se thoughts to myself. He did have the cutest yawn ever, and I giggled when I saw it.

  “How are you?” I asked. “How was delivery?”

  “Absolutely terrifying. I can’t believe I’m alive. Thank God Almighty for the epidural. I needed it immediately, but that doctor made me wait. We’re doing fine. Exhausted but fine. Have you seen snow yet?” Lily asked, as usual going a mile a minute.

  “Not yet. But I’ve heard it’s not unusual to get the first snowfall of the season around Halloween. So maybe soon. I can’t wait. The aspen leaves are gorgeous and I love the brisk air. I’ve been buying way too many sweaters and scarves.”

  “Don’t make me jealous. We probably won’t get a cold front until January.” Lily paused to lay Logan back down in his bouncer. “Jason told me you’re dating someone. Tell me about him.”

  I decided not to go into the fact that Ben and I hadn’t been technically dating when Jason was in town. “He’s a musician. He’s a lot of things. He works as the worship pastor for a big church around here. And he’s the lead singer of a band. And he wears his hair in a topknot. And he’s got interesting tattoos.” I threw those last tidbits in, knowing Lily liked details. Lily chuckled.

  “Yes, please.”

  “He’s really a great guy, Lil. Kind and thoughtful and crazy talented.”

  Lily dropped the phone and picked it back up. “He sounds wonderful. I’ve already stalked him online, so I’ve seen pictures. He’s gorgeous.”

  I laughed, not shocked at all.

  “You seem happy,” she said softly.

  “I’m doing all right,” I confirmed. “I miss you.”

  “I miss you too. Come visit. Come meet Logan,” she pleaded.

  I swallowed. “Um, maybe. I’m new at work, so I don’t have a lot of vacation time.” From where I stood at the kitchen island, I checked the clock on my microwave. “I’ve got to go, Lily.”

  “Wait. I wanted to tell you that Glen finally got the head pastor position for their church. The process took forever, but it’s final now. He and Addi are thrilled. And thank you for the adorable stuffed moose! Logan’s room is decked out like a forest, trees painted on the walls and everything. Sara helped—” Lily stopped midsentence, her eyes rounding with horror at her mistake. “I’m sorry. I haven’t slept. I didn’t mean to ...”

  To bring up Sara.

  “It’s okay. But I do have to go. I’m glad you liked the moose. I’ll call again.”

  “All right. I love you, Deb.”

  My heart tugged. “I love you too.”

  I ended the call, wishing I could be there with Lily and, at the same time, relieved to be miles away from Luke and Sara. I reached for my sneakers and decided to go for a run. I had fallen in love with autumn in Denver. I ran the trails behind my condominium, gulping in the cool air and enjoying the leaves blowing in the wind. I couldn’t get enough of the sight of the Rocky Mountains spread across the Front Range. Snowy white peaks reaching the sky even on sunshine-filled days.

  A playful cool breeze whipped through my hair, and leaves danced across the trail in front of me. And I didn’t feel alone.

  That was something.

  Saturday evening over bowls of chili at his apartment, I told Ben about finally singing along at church the week before. Ben crushed a handful of tortilla chips over his bowl, then sprinkled cheese on top of the chips, then stirred the whole thing together.

  “There’s something cool about finding our rhythm with God. To me, that’s what it feels like. Like he and I have a rhythm between us. Sort of like you and me,” Ben said with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “I don’t know if I’ll get to that place.”

  “Deb,” Ben said, pushing the bag of tortilla chips toward me. “Here’s the thing, if you can try—just try—to accept God exactly as he is, mysterious and still and quiet and complicated and layered. If you can accept him as he is—which I know takes faith—maybe you’ll start to realize that is exactly how he accepts you. Just as you are. And maybe you’ll start to find your rhythm.”

  “Maybe,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as doubtful as I felt. I asked him whether Twenty-Four Tears had come to a decision about opening for Chasing Summer.

  “The tour is four months, almost five. End of January through May. I don’t know how to even ask off for that much time. I might end up losing my job. Also,” Ben filled his spoon with a heaping bite of chili. “Bryce called that manager Andy told us about, just to talk. His name is Carlisle Miller. Bryce said it was a really good conversation. I think we’re all kind of wary of signing over some control over the band to someone new. We’re so used to doing things on our own.”

  “But a manager could help steer you in the right direction too. He can advocate for you, make sure you get the best deal.”

  “Yeah. I know. It could be a worthwhile tradeoff.” Ben finished another bite and sipped his soda. “Bryce said the guy told him he’s pretty confident he could get us signed with a label.”

  Knowing how nervous all this made Ben, I squashed the giddiness I felt at hearing that. “What about Xander and Karis?”

  “Xander says he can’t do it. He can’t leave Emily and the baby right now. Karis isn’t sure. I know she wants so bad to jump at this opportunity. Bryce wants to say yes. Seth too.”

  “You could call Scotty, see if he knows a drummer who needs a job.” I made the suggestion lightly while crunching tortilla chips over my own bowl.

  “No, I don’t want to do that. I know a guy I could ask, up in Breck. He’s young. But he’s not like Xander.”

  Not family.

  “If you go with this Carlisle guy, he might be able to get you a drummer.”

  “Maybe,” Ben agreed. “And Seth could move over to drums if we needed him to. He can play almost anything. But he’s great on keys. He can sing back-up vocals too. We’d take the hit with Karis, though. You know she’s awesome.”

  “What do you think—I mean, do you have a certain sense of what God wants you to do?”

  Ben sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I’ve prayed about it, of course. But I don’t feel strongly either way. I just know—I know God will go with me. But I’m good here. I’m happy with my job and my community. If I were to do this and if my life gets screwed up, it’ll be my fault. That worries me, because I know I’m capable of screwing things up.”

  “Ben,” I admonished softly. “You’re not going to mess anything up. And if you do, is that a reason not to try?” I asked with a small smile, echoing his words.

  But his shoulders just slumped. “It is when people are counting on me.” He pushed his hair back out of his face. “You’re counting on me,” he said.

  I reached over and took his hand. “You, Ben Price, are already a rock star to me. I’m with you whatever you choose to do. Do I think you’d kill it on tour? Yes. Does that scare me a little bit? Yes.”

  “Why?” He sat up, lacing our fingers together. “Why does that scare you, Deb?”

  “Because you’ll go off and be famous and have girls throwing themselves at you. I can’t compete with that.” I couldn’t even compete with one girl, who was supposed to be my friend. I tried to fight off the image in my head of adoring fans, tipsy and willing and obsessed with Ben. My stomach started to tighten into knots.

  He scraped the last bite of chili from his bowl. “You wouldn’t have to compete with anyone.”

  I knew different. He knew the business well enough to know different as well. “What if you lost your job? Could you make it?”

  He picked up our empty bowls and carried them to the sink. “Yeah.” He didn’t look at me. “I mean, I still make money off ‘Starfall.’ It’s ridiculous. The song wasn’t even that good, and yet I make more money than I should from it.”

  My mouth fell into an O, but I quickly recovered. For some reason, it hadn’t occurred to me, when Jack told me that Ben had written “Starfall,” that he still received royalties from it.

  “How did that happen?” I asked him.
>
  “I started writing it forever ago, back when the boys and I lived on Branham Street. Then Jane and I moved in together, but Scotty and I were still tight. He always gave me feedback on what I was working on. He knows what happened with me and Jane, but I don’t think he ever quite forgave me for moving up to the mountains and leaving those guys. After they got signed, he called me, asked me to send him ‘Starfall.’ I’d finished it but hadn’t done anything with it. I sent it to him, and they ended up using the song, giving me credit and royalties.”

  I started munching on tortilla chips. Ben came back and sat next to me at the table, putting an arm around my shoulders.

  “I can’t believe you finally decided to try dating a worship pastor.” He winked.

  I laughed and snuggled in closer to him. “Me either. Lucky for you, you’re very multifaceted.”

  He kissed the side of my head. “Lucky for you, I’m persistent.” He played with my curls as we sat there. “The church is doing a fall festival for families on Halloween. Want to come?”

  “Will you be working a dunking booth or anything?”

  He chuckled. “Thankfully, no. I’m helping set up and creating booths and a million things beforehand, so I think I’m off the hook having to run stuff. Who knows, though. If I’m there, they’ll probably get me to do something. But we can make candy apples and they have this huge popcorn machine that makes great popcorn.”

  “Why do you try to entice me with snacks?”

  A burst of laughter escaped Ben; then he just smiled. “You just, you know, seem to like snacks. Nothing wrong with that. I like snacks too.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Halloween night, we’ve got a gig downtown. You’ll come, right?”

  “Of course,” I promised him.

  “Do you think we should go on tour, Debra? I want your opinion,” he asked in a still voice, turning the conversation back and making me realize it was still forefront in his mind.

  “It’s up to you and the band, of course, Ben. But I’ve been around a lot of people—ever since college—who would give anything just for a chance to go on tour with a group like Chasing Summer. What if it doesn’t go beyond that? It would still be a chance of a lifetime to experience playing before sold-out crowds. I think you know it would go beyond that—and that’s the real question. If you want that. You guys have that magic. There’s no doubt about that. And really, even Karis told me this—you bring the magic, Ben. I think you’re a born performer. But money and fame don’t equal happiness, and you’ll be miserable on the road if you do this for any reason other than it’s in you to do it.”