Bo & Ember (34 page)

Ember carried the second verse alone, as well, but Chris joined her as we all erupted into the chorus. I resisted the urge to turn on my mic, and pushed down the twinge of jealousy toward Chris that he got to sing with Ember in that moment.

No one knew how lucky they were to have the chance to sing with her until it was all over and they were left wanting more. I sure hoped he was enjoying it. The three people in the control room certainly were. Yardley’s wide—but controlled—smile was laced with satisfaction as she watched her hand-picked musicians work together.

The song was over seven minutes long, and for that entire time, we blended perfectly. To a song that isn’t your standard “jam” song, the five of us performed as a group, thanks to my wife. And those wings that gave her the courage to step out and own her true self.

At the close of the song, when the last note faded, Ember raised her hands in victory. She and Chris hugged as Shaughn and Regan high-fived.

Yardley leaned into her mic on the other side of the glass and turned it on. “Message received.”

With an appeased smirk on her face, Yardley sat back in her chair and we all carried on with our session.

Ember

O
ur week in California flew by. There were live streams, interviews, and a few small meet-and-greets. By the end of it, I think we’d finally convinced Yardley that this wasn’t our first rodeo. Sure, we weren’t seasoned by any means, but we all had class enough to interact with fans as if they were human … because they were. And, so were we. All that was left to do was sit around and wait for our April album release party, and prepare like hell for the tour. Which, basically, meant we had to sleep a lot.

The good news was the tour bus was about four times the size of one of The Six’s RVs, so we likely wouldn’t want to kill each other until three-quarters of the way through the tour. By Labor Day, if my calculations were correct.

The night before we were scheduled to fly back to New Hampshire, Bo and I were packing our suitcases, when I got a call from Tyler.

“Hello?”

“Hey, gorgeous.”

I grinned. His greetings were different every time, but I favored “gorgeous” and “sweetness.”

“Is Bo there?” he asked with a hint of urgency.

“He is, what’s up?”

“Put me on speaker for a second.”

I flagged Bo down, who was busy organizing his belongings perfectly inside his suitcase. “Tyler wants to talk to us,” I whispered, tapping the speaker button. “K, Tyler, we’re on.”

Tyler took a deep breath. “All right. When you guys left, the addition was almost complete.”

“Yeah…” Bo said, baiting Tyler for more information.

“It’s done and I’ll be painting it tonight. Well
I
won’t be painting it…” he drifted off in soft laughter. “But what I want to ask is if you can give me artistic license for the first bedroom at the top of the stairs on the right. Rae’s old room.”

Bo and I shot our eyes to each other at the same time. We hadn’t once discussed what we’d do with that room. For about a minute, I’d considered making it a nursery, before rationalizing that it wasn’t wise logistically, being on the opposite end of the mile-long hallway.

“So … is that a no?” Tyler interrupted our long silence.

Bo swallowed hard, running his hand over his head, perching it on the back of his neck. “I don’t know … I haven’t really thought … what do you want to do?”

“I know this is asking a lot, Bo,” Tyler replied. “But … I need you to trust me. I want it to be a surprise when you get home. It’s nothing huge. Not a remodel, I mean, I’ll have it done by the time you guys get home tomorrow night. But, since at the end of next week this phase of the remodel will be done, I wanted to give you guys a gift. On me.”

I grinned at the humility in Tyler’s voice, and my chest ached at the hopeful, but pained, look on Bo’s face. Those two had been through a lot of crazy life together, and trust was being called out.

“Are you okay with it?” Bo asked me. “It’s
our
house.”

I smiled and responded as if there weren’t a third party present by phone. “I know it’ll feel weird but we have lots of Rae all over the house, and on my body.” I winked as I lifted my tattooed wrist. “I think it might be nice to make some new memories there.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Tyler cut in, reminding us of his long-distance presence.

Bo sighed with a grin. “All right, Tyler. We trust you. We
will
be home tomorrow night, though, so … just … don’t leave a mess,” he teased.

Tyler laughed freely. “Okay, enough chatter with you two, I’ve gotta go work.”

I pressed “End” and resumed packing. “You really okay with this?”

“You know?” Bo said as he zipped his suitcase. “I really am. I totally trust him. We’ve been through our shit, Tyler and me. And he’s been great to you over the last couple of weeks. We can all move on, I guess, huh?”

I smiled, proud of the steps we were both taking to be emotionally healthy adults. Before I could respond, Willow knocked on the door.

“Hey Ember? Beckett’s here and he wants to talk to you.”

I shot a curious look at Bo, who shrugged.

“Okay,” I called. "I’ll be right down."

“I’ll stay here,” Bo said as he took off his pants and shirt and slid into bed. “I need a quiet minute after this week.”

I kissed him on the cheek and walked down the stairs, where I found Willow alone in her kitchen.

“Uh…” I started.

Willow nodded to the beach. “Out there.”

“Weird.” I looked to Willow for a cue on what it was all about, but she had nothing to offer.

“Who knows? It’s Beckett.” She laughed and resumed combing through what looked like textbooks on sound engineering.

As I stepped onto the sand in the post-sunset dusk, Beckett was sitting on the large log to the left of the door.

“Hey you, what’s up?” I wrapped a sweater around my body, having forgotten how chilly an evening ocean breeze could be—even in California.

Beckett patted the space next to him. His hair was tucked behind his ears and he wore one of those half-grin half-frowns that instantly had me concerned.

“Is everything okay?” I asked as I sat. “There’s not something wrong with the album is there?”

Beckett shook his head and rested his arms on his knees. “No.”

I looked around, waiting for him to continue. “Okay … so?”

“I’m sorry, Ember. About the baby.” He looked to the sand as he spoke, and my stomach dropped.

Some days it felt like so long ago. Until someone handed me their condolences. Then, I was right back there.

I cleared my throat. “Beck, it’s okay. I’m feeling better.”

Beckett shrugged then finally looked at me. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, too. That was kind of a dick move.”

“Beckett—”

“No, Ember. Let me finish. I was so psyched to be working with you and getting your first album off the ground, and it was great hanging out at your place in New Hampshire, then I fell off the grid. It was like … I knew you and Bo were married, but when I heard about the miscarriage it just made it all real. Like … your
life
was something … something more. Marriage, a family.” He growled and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I guess when I first saw you at that club before you were signed, I was kind of hoping—”

“Don’t,” I cut him off with a smile. “Don’t say it.”

“But…”

I shook my head. “I don’t want you to say it because it’ll ruin the friendship we’ve had for a long time. We’ve been friends since diapers, Beckett, and I don’t want that to change. I forgive you, okay? For what you said and what you didn’t say.” I put my hand on his shoulder and he reached up, gripping it for a few seconds.

“You were always the peacemaker, you know. Of the three of us, remember? Willow and I would fight like cats and dogs and you’d make us friends again.” Beckett’s boyish smile lit up places in my childhood I’d long forgotten.

I nodded. “You two were ridiculous.”

“Yardley’s lucky to have you. That stunt you pulled with that Coldplay track the other day? Brilliant.” Beckett stood, and I followed.

“It was hardly a stunt, Beck.”

He laughed. “You owned it, sister. Bo’s a lucky man, Ember. Don’t let him forget it.”

I flicked my eyes up to the window of the bedroom where Bo and I would spend one more night. “Well,” I sighed, “I’m pretty damn lucky, too.”

Beckett’s eyes followed mine, settling on the glowing light from the room. “He’s all right.” He shrugged and I playfully smacked his shoulder.

“Beckett!” I teased.

“What! I thought he was going to eat me alive the first few times I was around him. His eyes never left me!”

“Can you honestly blame him? You stared at me nonstop.” I rolled my eyes and opened the door.

“Well,” Beckett said as we entered the kitchen. Willow was nowhere in sight. “Guess I’ll see you back in New York for the release party in April?”

I smiled. “You better drive your ass to New Hampshire the second the album is done. We can have a secret listen.”

Beckett leaned in and hugged me, planting a soft kiss on my cheek as he pulled away. “Right on.”

Beckett left, and I hurried upstairs where I knew a warm bed awaited me. It was going to be a long day tomorrow, and I still had to run the details by Bo. Luckily, he was still awake when I got into the room.

“Everything okay?” he asked, setting down his book. He’d recently started reading in what little downtime he had, and damn it if he didn’t look even sexier with a book in his hand.

I waved my hand. “Yeah. Beckett just apologized for not reaching out after the miscarriage.” I shrugged. “He felt bad. We’ve been friends a long time.”

Bo’s eyebrows lifted. “That was … nice of him. Weird, but nice.”

“Listen…” I sat cross-legged facing Bo. “I know the ashes are ready. They were ready on Wednesday, as promised by the funeral home.”

Bo’s face greyed slightly. He simply cleared his throat.

“They left a message on my phone,” I continued. “I didn’t keep it a secret, or anything like that. It was just … shocking, I guess. I mean, we knew they’d be ready—”

“Ember, it’s okay,” Bo cut in as he gently rubbed my leg.

I took a deep breath. “Anyway, I was thinking since we’re landing in Logan that we should go to that funeral home on our drive home and … get them.” I bit my lip and studied Bo’s face.

His lips twisted, and his eyes misted over just slightly. “Makes sense. What do you want to do with them?”

I shrugged. “Let’s not decide now. Let’s not even talk about deciding. It’s still kind of raw. The box is going to be tiny. We can figure out where to put it, and then decide on how to handle the ashes later. Like … summertime. Before we leave for tour.”

Bo lay back on the bed and extended his arm. “Come here.” He spoke softly, inviting me to curl up next to him. That was his way of saying he agreed with me and was ready to take a break from talking about it.

Just because one of us was ready to talk about something, didn’t mean the other had to be forced into it. Likewise, just because one of us
didn’t
want to talk didn’t mean we could avoid it all day. It was a balancing act. I’d said what I’d wanted to say about the ashes and didn’t need anything more from Bo until we landed in Massachusetts.

I felt like each day we were acing page after page of “Dr. Bittman 101.” While we hadn’t discussed how long we’d see her, Bo and I agreed we needed to meet with her regularly before the tour started, and keep her on standby while we were on the road.

I was happy to oblige Bo in his simple request, loving the feeling of his always-warm skin against mine. “Thank you for being mine,” I whispered as I kissed his chest.

Bo kissed my forehead, taking the same deep breath he always did when his lips were against my skin. “Thank you for being mine.”

I don’t ever want to pick up ashes again.

The funeral home was extremely gracious and the whole process was smooth and uncomplicated, but it was still devastating. I know there were words exchanged and signatures scrawled, along with well-meaning smiles, but the details were a blur. All I knew when we left was I didn’t want to go back any time soon.