Walking through the park holding hands with Evan feels strange, but not in a bad way. In a good way. It feels both familiar and new at the same time. I guess much like a first date would feel with someone youâve known your entire life.
âSeeing you sitting there every day was the best part of my day,â he says as we walk past my bench.
I smile up at him. âReally? Seeing you was the best part of mine, too.â It seems like just yesterday I was watching the clock waiting for noon to come, and Iâd walk to the park with the feeling of a thousand butterflies in my stomach.
Continuing down the path, we pass the picnic table we used to sit at, and go down the dirt path to the old stone bridge. He stops suddenly, and takes a few steps backwards until he meets the wall of the bridge. Leaning back against it, he smiles and pulls me against his chest, bending down to kiss me softly at first, then deeper as his hands circle my waist and slide down to cup my ass.
âThereâs no way I could walk by this spot without kissing you,â he murmurs.
I clasp my hands behind his neck. âOh! Is this whereâ¦.â My voice trails off as I look around us, remembering.
âIt is,â he says, rubbing his nose along mine, awakening the butterflies again. âI still have your panties from that night. And the ones you were wearing the night before I left.â
âIâm not sure if thatâs sexy or disturbing.â
âProbably both.â
Still holding my hand, he leads me down a short path through the woods until we come to a road, and I realize with surprise that weâre at the end of the dead-end street where the house with the shed is.
His house.
We stand at the end of the driveway and stare up at it quietly together. Iâm not sure if being here is good or bad for his recovery.
âEllie told me you used to live here,â I say softly. âHow come you never told me?â
He shrugs after a few moments, with his gaze still on the old house. âI honestly donât know, Piper.â
âThatâs okay.â
He takes a deep breath and looks down at me. âDo you want to go inside?â
âUmâ¦.â His question is the last thing I expect. âDo you want to?â
âYeah. I think I finally do.â
âThen Iâd love to go inside with you.â
âItâs probably going to be dirty and smelly,â he warns as we walk up the driveway.
âThatâs all right.â
We walk around the house and enter through the screen door of the porch. Everything is exactly as it was the last time I came here looking for him.
âWhen was the last time you were inside?â I ask.
âI think I was around twenty.â
âYou bought a lot of notebooks,â I observe as we walk past the piles.
He stops in front of the door leading to the kitchen and looks back at the notebooks.
âActually, I didnât buy them. My mother ordered them. Apparently, she thought she was buying a pack of twelve and she somehow ordered twelve hundred.â
âShit. Thatâs a lot.â
âYup. At least I never run out.â
I watch as he bends down to move a large ceramic planter near the door, and plucks a key out from under it.
âI lost my set of keys a long time ago,â he says, unlocking the door.
Being inside the house is like stepping back in time. The refrigerator and sink are avocado green. Thereâs still wood paneling on most of the walls. The kitchen chairs have plaid seat cushions. The air is stale and musty, but at least it doesnât smell like something died in here.
Evan sighs deeply and slowly walks farther into the room. âItâs exactly like it was,â he says with awe. âIâll bet thereâs still food in the fridge.â
âLetâs not look,â I advise.
He grins. âGood idea.â
Taking my hand again, we walk through the dining room, through the den, then to the living room. The rooms are huge, and everything looks as if his mother just ran out to get milk years ago and never came back. Itâs all untouched, still waiting. A teacup, a pair of reading glasses, and an old book, open but lying face down, are on the table at the end of the couch. I wonder what happened to her. Did she go crazy here alone? Did Ellie ever come back to visit her? Were there other relatives to look after her?
âAre you okay?â I ask. âI donât want this toââ
âFuck my head up?â he asks.
âWell, yeah. I know you werenât exactly happy here.â
âIâm fine. And living here was just like every other part of my life. Some days were good, some days sucked. But it wasnât all bad. Ellie made it seem all bad, didnât she?â
I nod.
âWhen my mother was good, she was fun to be around, and then my father wasnât such a dick. When she was having a rough time, it was hard to be around both of them. He drank and yelled and she cried and ranted. So I escaped into my own head, and into my music, and I talked to the birds. It became my normal.â
âEvanâ¦.â
âWhat? Iâm not going to hide it anymore. You already know Iâm nuts.â
I frown and cross my arms. âYouâre not nuts. I donât want you to hide anything, I just feel bad.â
âDonât feel bad. Câmon, letâs go upstairs and look at my room.â
I follow him up the wide wood staircase, where there are four bedrooms and two bathrooms. The house must have been gorgeous in its time, before everyone left. Vaulted ceilings, crown molding, lots of windows, the wood trim and accents and angles known in the Tudor-style homes. I feel sorry for it, being abandoned for so long.
A bedroom door with a skull and crossbones painted on it is closed.
âGuess whose room this is?â he teases.
âIâm not surprised.â
He swings open the door and it looks exactly as I pictured a teenage Evanâs room would look. Rock posters cover almost every inch of the walls and ceiling. A small mattress is on the floor with an old black blanket thrown over it. Thereâs only one dresser, and its drawers arenât closed all the way. Clothes stick out of them. An old radio and cassette player sits on top of the dresser, surrounded by candles dripping long-hardened wax. Empty cigarette cartons are thrown all over the place. Next to the bed is a stack of rock and guitar magazines and more notebooks.
Not surprising.
âNo naked girl posters?â I tease, peering around.
He laughs and opens the closet door. âNah. I was never into ogling women.â
After digging around in the closet, he comes out with a guitar case.
âLook whatâs still here.â He lays the old dusty case on the bed.
âWhatâs that?â
âMy first acoustic guitar.â
âOh. I thought the one you always have with you was your first.â
âThat was my second, actually.â
Iâm shocked, and confused, when he opens the case and the guitar inside is in absolutely pristine condition.
âItâs pretty,â I say. âIt looks brand new.â
Smiling ear to ear, he gently pulls it out of the case and turns it over in his hands.
âDo you know what this is?â he asks, clearly excited. âThis is a 1934 Gibson Jumbo.â
I blink at him. âIs that good?â
âGood? Itâs fuckinâ amazing, Piper. Theyâre wicked rare and worth a shit ton of money, not that Iâd ever sell it. I just canât believe itâs still here.â He runs his fingers lightly over the strings before placing it back in the case. âIâm taking it back with us.â
âWhy did you leave it?â I ask.
âI only played it a few times. My mother bought it at a garage sale, she had no idea what it was, or what it was worth. Neither did the guy selling it. I knew, though. I was afraid to play it. Itâs just tooâ¦good. Ya know?â He snaps the case closed. âI bought my other one so I could save this one. Protect it from getting destroyed. I didnât get a chance to take it with me. I moved in the shed with Acorn, and then we just left. I never came back inside.â
My heart still tugs at the mention of sweet Acorn.
âIâm glad itâs still here. You should put it with your others. It deserves to be out, not shut in an old closet.â
âYouâre right. Iâm going to put new strings on it. I canât wait to show Lyric, I think sheâll love it.â
Lyric loves everything he shares with her.
We go back downstairs, and Iâm relieved this visit isnât upsetting him. He looks happy, and excited about the guitar. I wait as he rummages through a kitchen drawer, then turns around and hands me an old photograph.
I take it from him gingerly, and when I hold it up under the light from the window, my heart jumps with joy.
Itâs a photo of Evan at about five years old, hair to his shoulders, and a tiny blue bird sitting on his shoulder. Heâs smiling like heâs the happiest little boy in the whole world.
âCan I have this? Please?â I ask, meeting his gaze.
âOf course.â
âYou look so adorable. And happy.â
He winks at me. âTold ya.â
I step forward and wrap my arms around his waist, leaning my head against his chest.
âI love you,â I say softly.
He holds me with his free arm. âI love you too, baby. Thank you for doing this with me. I wasnât planning on coming here, but Iâm glad we did.â
On our way back to the hotel we stop for ice cream cones in the park and sit at our usual table. Our little traditions mean the world to me and one of the things I love most about him is how he never forgets about them.
Heâs quiet for the rest of the afternoon, and I start to worry that visiting the house wasnât a good idea, after all. Perhaps it held too many bad memories that are now gnawing away at him. Later, over dinner in the hotel restaurant, we talk mostly about Lyric and things going on in my life, but he still seems a bit more distracted and subdued than he did earlier. I wonder if itâs an effect of the medication.
âAre you okay?â I finally ask him when weâre back in our room. âYou seem quiet.â
Sitting on the bed, he bends down and pulls off his work boots while I step out of my black heels.
âYeah⦠Iâm just thinking about something.â
Worried, I move to stand in front of him and gently run my fingers through his hair.
âDo you want to talk about it?â I ask softly.
Wrapping his hands around my waist, he leans forward to kiss the spot between my breasts.
âIâm thinking about the house.â
âMaybe we shouldnât have gone in there. Did it bother you?â
âI wasnât sure how Iâd feel, but actually it didnât bother me. I just feel bad the place has gone to hell, just sitting like that. It belonged to my grandparents, did I tell you that?â
âNo, I didnât know that.â
âThey died before I was born, but my mother told me she grew up there. My grandfather had it built for my grandmother as a wedding gift.â
âWow. Thatâs quite a gift. Itâs a beautiful house.â
âIt could be,â he says. âWhen I left the hospital, my doctor told me to âgo home and start your new lifeâ and I realized I didnât even have a home.â He pulls me down as he talks, until Iâm sitting on his lap. âReece moved out of the house in Seattle, and we were never there enough for it to feel like home, anyway. It was basically just a hub. And your place is nice but itâs kind of a reminder that I was a fuckup for so long that you and my kid had to buy a house alone. Itâs weird. For the first time I want a real home.â
Itâs funny that I wondered the very same thing about where he would want to go when he left the band, and then, where he would go when he left the facility. Itâs something we never talked about, even when we were discussing wedding plans.
âI think I want to completely remodel the house and live there,â he says. âBut I want you and Lyric and Mickey and Archie there, too. I donât want to live there alone. I think that house has had too much loneliness.â When I donât say something right away, he continues to talk nervously. âItâll be like a brand-new house when itâs done, not like it is now. We could pick out everything we wanted and make it ours.â
My brain starts to twirl like a whirlwind with the unexpectedness of this conversation. I assumed he might want to keep some distance between us for a while to give himself time to think since he just got out of the hospital. I wasnât looking forward to that, but I was prepared for it.
I definitely wasnât prepared for him to be talking about moving in together.
âEvanâ¦.â Iâm overwhelmed with all the things I want to say.
âShit. Itâs too soon, right?â He plops me down on the bed next to him before he stands and crosses the room to stare out the window. âI fucked it all up again. Us. Our trust. Everyfuckingthing. You need time to figure it all out.â
I walk over to him and hug him from behind, and he covers my hands with his over his chest.
âAll those years you were waiting for me?â His voice is so low I can barely hear him. âI was waiting, too. I always wanted everything with you, I just kept tripping over myself and fucking it all up. But I want it all. I want to marry you and have another baby.â
My heart wrenches at the thought that this sweet, vulnerable side of him has been buried under all his demons for years, trying to get out and be happy.
âYou didnât fuck it all up. I think things happened the way they were supposed to happen. And in case you didnât noticeâ¦â I turn him around to face me. âIâm right here with you, and I still want all those things with you, too.â
He palms the back of my neck and brings my mouth to his, kissing me fervently. âI donât deserve you, Piper.â
âYou do.â I stand on my tiptoes so I can look into his eyes. âI donât need time, Evan. Iâve had more than enough of that. And I donât need to figure anything out. I love you. I want to be with you⦠right now, every day, and forever.â
âWhat ifââ
I quickly kiss him quiet. âWhat if you stumble? What if you need more help or different meds? What if you just need to eff my brains out sometimes? What if you just need a long hug and the sound of the rain? What if you start to feel bad again? Itâs okay. I donât need to think about it, I already know Iâm going to go through anything and everything with you. Thereâs nothing in the world thatâs going to make me walk out the door.â
âYouâre sure? I could still have some bad daysâ¦.â
Iâve never been more sure about anything in my life. I love him and what we haveâflaws and all. I always have.
âIâm positive. No matter what. I love the house, Evan. It was kind of our home for a while, wasnât it? Iâd love to bring it back to life with you and move our little family in and turn it into a real home again. And weâll be so close to all our special places.â I smile up at him. âI feel like weâre supposed to be there.â
He nods excitedly. âGod, I love you. I want that, too. So fuckinâ bad.â
âThen letâs do it. We donât have to wait anymore.â
He lifts me up in his arms and we kiss the kind of kiss thatâs made of memories, hope, and new beginnings. We know weâll have good days and bad days and thatâs okay. Thatâs the magic of love. It doesnât always have to be easy or perfect or normal. It can just be two people who believe in each other enough to be there for all the tomorrows.