Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 253(@250wpm)___ 211(@300wpm)
He pushed his hair out of his eyes and continued, “Anyway, I put away the plastic guitar after that, and got a haircut, and stopped singing in the mirror. I tried to let it all go. Years later when she married my stepdad, she offered me music lessons, but I turned them down. I’m not sure why I did that. Maybe I still thought they were frivolous and pointless. Or maybe I knew she was right. Almost no one who sets out to be a rock star actually succeeds.”
“But then, you finally learned to play the guitar.”
“Yeah, at twenty-six, after I found out my days were numbered. I still loved music, so I thought, why not go ahead and give that to nine-year-old me? What would be the harm?” He lifted the strap over his head and turned away from me to set aside the guitar.
I put down my forgotten sewing project and crossed the room to sit beside Devon. He was still facing away from me, and after a moment, he said, “I waited too long. Why didn’t I start down this path at twelve, when I was offered those lessons? Or at eighteen, after I graduated from high school, or at any point before the one I chose? Why was I willing to abandon my dream?”
“Maybe because it’s scary to want something that much,” I said softly. “If we reach for our dreams and fail, what are we left with?”
“I think I’m even more afraid of succeeding.”
“Why would you be afraid of that?”
“Because I’m out of time. What if I get up on stage and discover it’s everything I ever dreamed of? I missed my chance, and I’ll never know what might have been.”
“But you didn’t, Devon. There’s still time.”
“You say that because you don’t believe in the curse, but I do. From where I’m sitting, I totally blew it. I should have put that dream in motion more than a decade ago, but I didn’t.”
I didn’t know what to say. There were no words to make this easier, or to convince him he really did have time.
I rested my hand on his and waited until he was ready to talk again. After a minute, he turned to me and said, “I’m sorry I’m getting emotional. I’ve been feeling kind of raw the last couple of days.”
“It’s probably the holidays. They stir up a lot of emotions in me, too.”
“They’re bittersweet, aren’t they? Especially when they remind us of the people who aren’t here anymore to celebrate with us.”
“Yeah, exactly. But this Thanksgiving, we have a lot to be grateful for. We’re in a good place, with good people, and we’re spending it together.”
“All of that really is wonderful. In fact, I was thinking… no, never mind.”
“What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask about subletting one of your rooms. I really like spending time with you, and I like this place, so I want to stay awhile. But I shouldn’t ask for anything after all of that. You might say yes out of pity.”
“Actually, I’m saying yes because it’s a good idea. You need someplace to stay, and I can’t keep paying rent on two rooms, so it’s a win-win. You can take my bedroom, and I’ll move in here.”
“I was talking about subletting this room. All I need is this bed and a corner for my stuff, so your things can stay right where they are.”
“It wouldn’t be fair to charge you for this room and then keep using it.”
“But I like it like this, with all your pretty fabrics and projects and sketches around me. And don’t worry, I promise to stay out of your way when you need to work. Just say the word, and I’ll go find something to do so I’m not distracting you.”
“You won’t be a distraction.”
He grinned and said, “So far, you’re entirely wrong about that. We came up here so you could do some sewing, and I’ve totally derailed you. But I can do better.”
“We can figure that stuff out, and again, I’m all for you staying here. I’m sure my landladies will be, too. We can run it by them next time we go downstairs.”
“Sounds good.” He was all smiles, but then he grew serious and said, “If we’re going to be housemates, I guess that means we shouldn’t mess around again. It might make things too complicated if we’re living together and sleeping together… right?”
I knew what he meant by complicated. It might become too intense, or lead to getting too attached to each other, when neither of us wanted a relationship. “You’re right. We’re better off keeping this strictly platonic from now on.”
Even though I knew that was the smart choice, it still came with a sting of disappointment.
We spent the next few hours in the studio, talking about random things while I sewed and Devon played tunes on his unplugged guitar. He really wasn’t a distraction. I had a lot of hand-beading to do, and the slow, monotonous task was much better with company.