“Jimi, you know you can order SkyMall Magazine stuff online, right?” Danny takes my carry-on from me, collapses the handle, and picks it up. He still refuses to bring a carry-on of his own, and seems quietly disgusted by all rolling luggage.
The wheels of Jera’s bag clunk over the metal plate that connects the walkway to the airport and the hollow sound echoes through my chest as well. Am I the only one who remembers what it means that we finally made it to San Francisco? Most of the crew caught connections at JFK, so on this leg we’re just dropping off a rigger, a light tech, and Clancy.
Oh, and me.
Not that anybody seems to care that I never bought the connecting flight to Portland. Danny’s made a few vague references about him being down here, or me being up there, but I have no idea if he plans to visit, or expects me to. Or maybe he’s just going to be shocked when he gets home and unzips his suitcase and I’m not in there with the rest of his sex toys.
I glance away, taking advantage of my two free hands to take out my ponytail and re-finger-comb it back up. I shouldn’t be petty. Danny has never treated me like a sex toy. Just because he hasn’t made plans for anything past today doesn’t mean he’s going to blow me off as soon as I’m out of sight.
“And what do you know about SkyMall Magazine, Mr. Minimalist?” Jera turns around long enough to toss a smirk Danny’s way. “What, did you buy their family pack of tiny, stupid baskets?”
“Speaking of, did you have to trade your balls for your Pier One Preferred Customer card?” Jax snickers, throwing a glance at Danny. “Or did they just fall off naturally after your tenth purchase of 39.99 or more?”
“Oh, shit.” Danny’s shoulders sag as he glances down the busy airport terminal. “Fans. Incoming.” Jax perks up, following his gaze, and Danny slaps him upside the head with an open hand.
“Hey!” Jax protests, and Jera erupts into laughter.
We come to a stop in front of the Departures board, and everyone but me digs for the next round of boarding passes as they check for their gate assignment.
I hitch my purse up on my shoulder. I should be happy that Jax and Danny’s little birthday sing-a-long seems to have thawed the ice between them. If I were a good person, I’d be grateful, instead of poutily wondering why the band is too busy teasing each other to realize I’m leaving.
Yesterday, I was one of them. Part of the band instead of just the entourage. But maybe that was just the magic of the moment, packed away along with the light rig and the microphone stands before morning.
I turn my back decisively on the Departures board, pasting a smile on as I thank Jayna and Rex for their work before they take off.
Clancy pulls me into a tight hug and kisses the top of my head. “See you at Coachella, girl.” He winks. “If you’re good, I’ll even show you my secret napping spot on the grounds.”
“I wish!” My chuckle sounds plastic, but Clancy pretends not to notice, nodding to the band and flirting a little with Jera before he starts toward one of the moving walkways.
Jera turns back to the board. “Okay, we’re at Gate...”
“B-34.” I keep my cheeks stretched in a smile as I reach to take my bag from Danny. “I’m the other way.”
He doesn’t let go of the bag, and his eyes are unreadable as they connect to mine.
“You’re going already?” Jera asks. I tear my gaze from Danny in time to see her face cloud over. “We still have a three-hour layover before we have to go... But you probably want to get out of here, huh? Not hang out in more airports with us.” She laughs and it sounds odd, or maybe it’s just my weird mood coloring everything. “I’m sorry, of course you want to get home. You probably want to put your feet up and not worry about me texting you at 1:30 in the morning to ask if you’ve seen the nylon tips to my drumsticks.”
“We can at least walk you to the security checkpoint.” Jax drops an arm over my shoulders, frowning. “But I don’t see why you can’t come back with us for a little vacay. San Francisco’s got nothing on Portland, and besides, you saw the fans’ reaction last night.” He grins at me as we start down the hallway toward the exit. “You’re all over YouTube as the band’s new good luck charm. If you don’t make an appearance on the next tour, they’ll probably all jump ship.”
Danny keeps pace beside us, his lean body tight as he shifts my carry-on to the side farthest from me. He looks like he might be getting twitchy from too many hours of traveling.
“I’m pretty sure you can charm them into forgetting all about me.” I nudge Jax with my elbow. “Or hey, hire some dancers if you’re lonely up on stage.”
“Oh my God, next time we should dance. I bet we could choreograph something really fun for you and Jax and Danny. Shit, why didn’t I think of that instead of just a song dedication?” Jera bounces forward to join us, her bag rocking on its wheels.
“If we did that, she would have known what we were planning.” The sound of Danny’s voice is like a stone in my already knotted stomach, and I am trying so hard not to hate the weight of Jax’s arm just because doesn’t belong to the man I wish it did.
The checkpoint looms ahead, and the exit beside it. I’ve never tried to smuggle anything—not even that time in Turkey when the whole sound crew was dogging on me to help them out—but I’m pretty sure I couldn’t dread the security crossing any more than I do now, even if I were carrying my weight in black tar heroin and grenades.
When Jax stops and turns to hug me goodbye, I have to pry my eyes off his Italian leather shoes and lever them up to his face, hoping I can get through these goodbyes with some modicum of dignity.
Jax rubs his hands up and down my arms. “Jeez, Kate. I can’t believe it’s over already.”
The distress in his blue eyes softens my smile until it’s almost real. “Hey, if this whole rock star thing doesn’t work out, give me a call. I think you could make a damn fine tour manager with a little training.”
Jax grins. “Well, if this whole tour manager thing doesn’t turn out, give me a call. You’d make some killer arm candy.”
My laugh catches in my throat, and then he presses my face into his shirt for a long hug that smells of a deliciously expensive cologne, industrial upholstery, and healthy male sweat.
He barely lets me go before Jera locks me into her tiny, hard arms, her forehead digging into my cheekbone as she gives me a rib-liquefying embrace.
“Damn it.” She sniffles quickly. “Just keep hugging me and let me blink it off for a second, okay?” she mutters. “No fucking way I’m hearing about this from the guys for the whole flight home.”
Smiling, I squeeze her back, the sting behind my eyes receding for the first time since we crossed the Atlantic. I sniffle loudly to cover it up when she makes a similar sound, and her giggle catches in her throat.
But then Danny’s spicy scent touches the air, and my whole body aches in the instant before I register his hand ruffling Jera’s hair. “Crank off the waterworks, Jimi. She isn’t headed to Antarctica, for Christ’s sake.”
I stiffen, but Jera doesn’t notice because she’s already whirling to glare at her friend. “Way to be supportive, jackass. I ought to send you to Antarctica.” She turns back to me, her face brightening. “Hey, so I was going to ask you later, but since you’re not coming straight to Portland with us I don’t want to wait and risk your schedule getting all crazy. So...” She grins. “Wanna be my bridesmaid?”
Oh shit.
My skin goes cold and I stall by switching my purse to my opposite shoulder. How am I supposed to tell her that in six to twelve months’ time, Danny may not appreciate a blast from the past in floor-length satin?
“Come on, I promise I won’t make you wear anything with ruffles...” Jera sing songs.
I shift my weight until my back is to Danny. I can no longer stand the idea of us being only an on-tour fling, but I have no idea what we’ll be to each other when Jera’s wedding comes around, and I refuse to take that side door into his real life at home. I’m co
ming in on a red carpet invitation or nothing.
“Ah, you don’t want that.” I summon every ounce of my acting prowess to manage a calm voice and casual flick of my ponytail back over my shoulder. “You ought to save those spots for your girlfriends from home.”
Jera laughs, dropping her hand from my arm and shifting her weight. “Yeah, I think you know exactly how popular I was with the other girls in high school. There probably won’t be any catfights over who gets to hold my train.”
“Yeah, but...” I fight off another urge to look at Danny, and straighten my back. “Tours are intense. They can be like their own little world and everybody gets really close really fast, like the first time you ever went to sleepaway camp.” I give her a smile that’s trying to be gentle but feels like it’s strangling me. “I’m so flattered that you’d even ask, Jera. You have no idea what an honor that would be for me. But I don’t want you to look at your wedding pictures someday and think, ‘Who’s that girl on the left? Oh right, she was on our first headliner tour or something.’”
Jera’s face has gone stiff, like somebody hit her “pause” button. Danny sets down my carry-on, the wheels clicking against industrial flooring.
“I’m uh, going to meet you guys at the gate,” Jax says. “Let you finish saying goodbye and stuff.” Jax’s eyes dart between me and Jera before he leans in and drops a kiss on my forehead. “Talk to you soon, Kate, okay?”
I open my mouth to make some kind of response but then Jera says, “Yeah, I uh, didn’t mean to put you on the spot by asking.” Her face deepens to an uncomfortable red and she clears her throat, her eyes avoiding mine. “It’s no big deal that you’re busy. I’m sure you have a lot of other bands and jobs to keep up with.”
I wince and try to catch her gaze. I’m just trying to save her the embarrassment of having to play peacemaker between me and Danny if this thing between us falls apart before the wedding. But of course I can’t explain that to her.
“Jera, that’s not what I meant. I just—”
“No, it’s fine. Thanks for all your work on the tour.” She tries for a smile, but it comes out strained as she snatches up the handle of her bag, starting off so fast that she catches a toe and stumbles, her bag wobbling off its wheels before she jerks it straight and hurries away.
Guilt twists greasily in my stomach. I didn’t think she’d take that so hard. But then, she hasn’t mentioned once who the other girls are in her wedding party. Oh God, it wasn’t going to be just me, was it?
“What was that all about?” Danny’s frown creeps into his voice as he glances after his friend before turning back to me. “You and Jera have been giggling in corners together since the first day of the tour—I thought you’d be as excited about the whole bridesmaid thing as she has been. You get that she wasn’t asking just to be polite, right?”
“And what was I supposed to tell her, Danny? Her wedding won’t be for months, and you and I haven’t scheduled so much as a coffee date after today.” As soon as the words are out, I cringe, hating the accusation in my tone and how exposed it makes me feel.
I’m half-braced for him to snap back at me the way my mom always does, but instead he just looks confused. “What is there to talk about? I’ll fly down here after a couple days, or you’ll come up to Portland.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder gently.
For a second, hope spikes in me, but then I just feel lost. I glance at the clock next to the security gate. He still has a couple hours before his plane boards, but my ticket ends here and his doesn’t. I can’t stand to hang in this fantasy world of in-between with him, always wondering what comes next.
“That’s fine for a visit, but if we’re really going to do this, your life is up north and mine...mine’s all over the place.” I take a breath and lay it all out for him. “In a good year, I’m gone for all but a few weeks, and you’ll probably be busy during most of those. You’re going to have publicity to do, a new album to write and then record, local gigs, and that’s all before prep for your next tour starts. What are we going to do long-term?”
He takes my other shoulder, his thumbs brushing softly over the fabric of my shirt. He doesn’t step closer, as though he doesn’t want to spook me. “You sure you’re ready to talk about this? Because I’m happy to see you every chance I can for now.” The edge of his mouth lifts in a smile that’s a little shy, or maybe sad. “No need to U-Haul your apartment or anything crazy.”
I drop my head, focusing on his scuffed, haphazardly-tied army boots. Maybe we could do that. Enjoy every stolen kiss and laugh and late-night phone call, letting them snowball slowly into whatever version of “more” we wanted to find together. It sounds romantic, a little bittersweet and painfully perfect. But I’ve watched my mother talk herself into believing a million flawless futures that never came true. I’ve never let myself walk that path, no matter how easy it would be to take just the first step toward Fantasy Land.
“Kate.” His voice is so low, it’s more of a caress than a word. “Talk to me.”
I shake my head, afraid that I can’t keep my voice steady if I try to look at him while I say this. “I want to, Danny. I’d love to pretend like we can just go with the flow and it’ll all work out, but I’ve seen this too many times to believe in fairy tales. The people in my business who are on the road a lot, they all have trouble with their families. They cheat or they drift away from each other.” I swallow. “It’s not only the couples with problems, Danny. After long enough apart, it’s everyone.”
His boots shift closer to my ballet flats. The crowd moving through the terminal parts and flows around us, and I’m aware that our bent heads are too intimate for a public place. But somehow, his quiet voice makes this feel private. “We’ve never been the kind of couple who needs to be joined at the hip, Kate. It’s part of why we work.”
The heat of him is filling up the space between us. I step away because this feels too much like the hug that will mark our parting, and the corners of my eyes are already stinging at the thought. The outline of the exit behind him throbs in my peripheral vision even as his hands slip off my shoulders.
Our first goodbye will be today, no matter what.
“I know you like to play your guitar or disappear into the tattoo parlor for an afternoon,” I argue, “but it’s not the same as a tour. Maybe it’ll be fine the first time I leave, but what about the fourth? The tenth? How long before your body gets tired of waiting for me to come home, and other women start to look more interesting?
He’s been cocooned at home with his friends all his life. He hasn’t watched the way the music industry pulls at relationships like an old rubber band that becomes misshapen and brittle after too many rounds.
His brows flinch. “Jesus, Kate! I thought I’d fly down in a couple days once I get stuff at home settled. And in your head, I’m already cheating on you. What the fuck?”
“Because nine times out of ten, that’s what happens.” I shake my head. “We’re not the first people to think we can beat the long-distance thing. That’s why we have to be able to talk about this, to make some kind of plan so we’ll know how often I need to take time off, and how we’ll deal with all your band responsibilities. Just...how it’s all going to look, you know?”
“Kate, I’ll talk about anything you want, but I’m not going to pretend to know the future.” He reaches out and touches my hand, but I don’t feel the connection like I did a moment ago. It just feels like a hand, one that can fix so many things. But not everything. Danny must feel it, too, because he lets his hand fall. “That’s not what matters here, Kate. Plans are just guesses. People make them all the time and it doesn’t mean shit about how things will turn out.”
“I can’t go into this without knowing there’s at least some scenario where it could work out. And it’s not just the schedules.” I drop my voice and take a step closer. “It’s about how we feel. How long we can be apart and still be together, you know? If we can’t even make a plan to begin with, how are w
e supposed to communicate with each other about how things are going and when they need to change?”
“What, so you can accuse me of making you feel guilty for going on tour?” His shoulders harden, and he looks away from me and into the crowded airport. “Right.”
“That’s not what I meant. I just want you to be open with me, that’s all.” I reach out, my fingertips brushing his sleeve. Even the fabric feels taut.
“Do you?” His eyes are so bright now that it almost hurts to look at him. “Because every time I’ve tried to tell you how I felt, you freaked out.”
“Because you don’t want to talk about me being gone. You want to talk about me being with you.” My voice goes hoarse but I ignore the quaver and push on. “You won’t tell me how you’ll deal when I’m gone because I think a part of you never expects me to leave. But this...” I gesture at the airport, at my faded carry-on. “This isn’t just a trip. It’s my life. I can’t just hurry back to you. I won’t.” The words are bitter on my tongue, but as soon as I say them, relief releases in me like a fist.
“I have never asked you to.” His eyes are dark and harsh with turmoil.
“No, you haven’t.” I can’t help the twinge of bitterness that creeps into my voice, because he’s never offered a single potential compromise. Whereas every second since I realized I loved him, I’ve been trying to solve us like an equation; my organizer’s mind offering variable after variable. But in this moment, with his silence as his only offer, I realize all those runner up options for jobs that would keep me in Portland...I hate them all. Every single one leaves me feeling like I need to peel my skin off, like I don’t even know how I’d keep breathing until retirement. I love my life, and the only thing it’s ever been missing is Danny. But I can’t just pack him up and take him along like my own personal entourage. He has his own life, and a career that’s already growing faster than he’s ready for.
His broad shoulders stretch darkly between me and the exit, and it all starts to sink into me in layers. Relief and then horror, and a loneliness so deep I wish I could simply curl up onto the floor and cease to exist so I never have to make this decision.
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