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But Barry and Dad have developed a tight creative bond back in Chicago ever since that wild night.
A few times Roland panicked before realizing Dad had whisked Barry away to his basement studio, where they’d rock away the evenings together.
Barrett’s been freaking out in the best way to cover Four Times Crazy songs with one of his rock idols. Dad might not say it, but he loves having someone else to share his music with, too.
That’s why he’s knee-deep in a project to help re-record Barrett Osprey’s old songs now that they’re legally Barry’s again.
That’s why we’re here now.
To meet up with Dad’s friends—including two of his former band mates—and to let Barrett give things a try with them, before they commit to a studio recording.
I’m not sure why they picked the park, though, instead of just renting a local studio.
At least, I’m not sure until we get there.
Dad and his friends are set up under a flowery canopy on the edge of a pavilion like they’re about to put on a big show.
And I’m stunned again when I see my mother came. Never mind the little looks she and Dad keep giving each other, like shy teenagers with a crush...
Okay, what’s going on?
Why is Roland grinning fit to split his face?
Why is Barry smiling just as wide, nudging Roland every chance he gets like a caffeinated chipmunk and asking, “You ready, Rollie?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Roland says, and lightly punches Barrett’s arm. “Go get ’em.”
Barrett lights up—and then suddenly catches me in a huge bear hug, squeezing me hard enough to make me go oof.
“Listen real good, Callie,” he says. “It’s a new song. I wrote it just for you and Roland.”
I don’t have time to catch my soaring heart as it hits my very confused brain.
Barry lets me go just as fast and races off to the makeshift stage, raising his hand to signal Dad.
I just blink, while Roland slips his firm hand into mine.
“...he wrote a new song? Roland, what’s going on?”
“Why don’t you come dance with me, Snoopy, and find out?” he growls.
“Dance? Ohhh!”
My heart skips as Roland sweeps me up in his mile-wide arms, just as Dad and the rest of the gang strike up a tune.
It’s not quite a power rock ballad, but it’s got strong, stirring chords.
The kind that makes your blood quiver and puts an earworm in your soul. Or maybe that’s all Roland.
He still does that to me.
Even after months together, our newness, vividness, energy, and feels haven’t dimmed in the slightest.
This love is fresh and new and amazing, and I nearly melt into a Callie-puddle as Roland whirls me around in a graceful, swaying dance. His body presses so close to mine I can feel his heartbeat.
God.
I could lose myself in this sweetness, this strange magic that feels like it was made just for me.
My mind goes back to that day in the botanical garden, when he showed me the gardenia display just because it made him think of me.
I feel like he’s always thinking of me.
Like I’m the most special girl in the world—in his searing blue eyes—and possibly the entire universe.
He’s certainly looking at me that way now as Barrett begins to sing.
Roland holds on and we turn gently together, his hands so warm and perfect against mine, on my body.
I’m so wrapped up in Roland that I only partly register how lovely Barry’s voice sounds today. Every word rings out strong and true after his damaged throat healed.
And what he’s singing about sets my ears on fire.
Lyrics that promise love can be forged stronger by pain, rather than destroyed.
A rousing chorus that says hold on—hold on, baby, it’s so worth it.
Hold on, we’ll make it through the dark every time.
Hold on.
Just hold on for life.
Roland holds on tight to me, his lips smiling like the heart-thief he is as he murmurs, “We hurt each other a lot to get to here didn’t we?”
“Yeah,” I say carefully. “But we also helped each other heal.”
“I don’t know how to explain how much I needed that. Fuck, I don’t even know if the words exist. How much I needed you, Callie. Since I’m short on words, this is the only way I could show you. With a little help from my brother.” He laughs, a buttery rumble rolling through me like thunder. He’s so flipping dapper right now, with the sun shining off his hair and his button-down shirt clinging to his chest.
“Now you’ve upstaged me,” I tease. “How am I supposed to show you I need you just as much? How could I match this?”
“...there might be one way,” he says cryptically.
Roland draws to a halt, pulling back from me a little.
Everything goes still.
Even the pretty music fades from my ears.
There’s a sudden sense of something hanging in the air, vibrating just like the humming vocals at the end of the song.
