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“No way, you’re going to face this head on, Elaine Renee. This is as good as it gets. Do you hear me?”
“I hear you, Momma, loud and clear, and that’s all fine and dandy, but I’m still in my underwear!”
“Oh,” she snorts, “be right back!” I can hear a burst of excited laughter coming from her as she races down the hall. A few seconds later, the door opens, and only her hand shoots out with some sleep shorts that read ‘All sass no ass.’
“Really, Mom?”
“Hey, you bought them.”
Jerking them from her grip, I scramble to pull them on and turn back toward the wave of percussionists closing in by the second. It sounds like a thousand of them are marching in for battle. A solid lump forms in my throat as they tap out a building rhythm as if waiting for a cue. Anticipation races through me as I tug down my fitted cami while thanking God for the built-in bra. I’m a hot mess express as I stand idle on the porch frantically running fingers through my hair.
And then I see them, the Grand Band drumline emerging from the clearing along with fifteen or more fighting Rangers. Uncontrollably shaking where I stand, I feel the warmth of my tears pool where my hand cups my mouth.
Lines form on either side of the drive declaring their imminent arrival as the rhythmic thud pounds in time with the spastic beat of my heart. It’s all I can do to keep upright.
“Mom,” I cry shakily back toward the door when the adrenaline catches up with me.
It’s then she raises the blinds in the window directly to my right on the porch so she can get a clear view. She’s with me.
Breathing easier, I turn back to the drive, heart hammering, an awareness prickling up my spine, delivering goosebumps along my neck and scalp. My senses heighten unbearably, emotions running rampant as the drums reverberate through the trees. Another ten or fifteen Rangers come into view zigzagging across our lawn in perfect formation.
Heart soaring, I take in the sight before me, tears slipping easily down my cheeks just as the drumbeat takes background to a steady bass line. It’s then Theo appears in a long trailer behind a king cab along with Zach and the rest of his band. They circle the drive coming to a stop less than fifteen feet from my porch. Rangers line up on all sides of the trailer stretching down the driveway as far as the eye can see. The bass line morphs just as the screech of Theo’s guitar pierces the air.
Eyes glued to Theo; I drink him in. He’s dressed in a T-shirt that says “I’m with the band” underneath a black-tailed tuxedo coat that trails over plaid shorts. There’s a matching plaid bowtie fastened loosely around his Adam’s apple. He’s strapped with a black Stratus he’s wailing on, and it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Hands over my chest, I’m doing my best to stay standing as Theo delivers the opening licks to “My Hero” by The Foo Fighters. A hysterical sob leaves me as I watch him lead the Grand Band into an epic rendition of the song while Zach begins to belt out the lyrics.
The sound reverberates through the wood beneath my feet along with the windows of my house as I stand there in awe. I’m doing everything I can not to fly to him when his eyes finally meet mine, and he winks before mouthing a, “Hi.”
“Hi,” I mouth back shakily as he leads them into an unbelievable crescendo shaking his head as he runs the length the guitar with precision like the rockstar he is. The star he’s always been. The star he let me discover by peeling back layer after layer to let his light shine through. As surreal as the whole scene is, I can’t keep my eyes off him.
His hair falls over his face as he plucks the strings rocking back and forth. Shaky sobs escape me as the song hits its peak and Zach shrieks out the lyrics. I feel every word strike me raw, bone-deep, soul deep. The band’s brass chimes in along with the five-man crew in front of me while I completely lose my shit, enamored, in awe, and desperately in love. Drowning in adrenaline, I rock out with them, dancing on shaky limbs.
The sound of the whistle has the Rangers switching their march as the song fades into a slower, melodic rhythm that knocks the rest of the breath out of me. It’s when Theo takes a seat at the waiting keyboard on the far side of the trailer and begins to play Lonestar’s “Amazed” that I lose all semblance of reality. When his eyes
meet mine, I’m gone. So. Fucking. Gone.
I sway on my bare feet, feeling every note, every key, every word a direct line to my starving heart.
My mother is at my back then, wrapping her arms around my chest, pulling me to her as we freely cry together, swaying back and forth. In my peripheral, I spot Devin to the left of me at the foot of the porch, tears streaming down to her smile, her phone up recording every second of what’s happening.
It’s then I realize this whole thing was meticulously orchestrated by a musical architect. My architect. My music man and the only guy on Earth that could ever possibly hold me down.
I take it all in; the music, the words, the man pouring his soul out to me.
“I love you,” I mouth to him. Clearly, I can see the shine in his eyes as he keeps the melody, relief in his features while he mouths the words to me. It doesn’t matter that I can’t hear him, I know this song, this man, by heart.
“Okay, maybe you can marry him,” my mom says in a tear-soaked voice, before letting me go and ushering Devin to join her.
Unable to stay planted, I take the steps down the porch two at a time and rush toward him, keeping my place at his feet attending my own private concert. Standing there, I memorize the sweat on his brow, the serene look on his face, the heart with which he plays. When the song hits a crescendo, I sing with him, to him. I’m pouring my heart out right back, belting it out at the top of my lungs until every note is played. When he sees the longing on my face, he lets the band take over and jumps over the edge of the trailer before capturing me in his arms, my feet already dancing on air. Instruments go up around us along with endless cheers as he effortlessly lifts me in a hug, and I wrap around him, smiling through my tears.
He’s shaking as he holds me tightly to him, and I can feel the pound of his heart and count every precious beat.
And then he kisses me, deep, so deep my whole body erupts with the feel of it as thunderous applause rings out around us.
When he pulls away, we just stand and stare as the song ends and the bass line carries it to the next before the Grand Band begins to march off the way they came.
“Jesus, Houseman,” I say, gripping him tightly to me. I’m plastered to him, too swept up to say anything else as Theo turns with his arm locked around me and thanks Zach and the rest of the band, giving them daps. Resting my head against his chest, I wave to the guys in thanks before I catch a glimpse of Troy standing behind the cab of his truck as the guys hop off the trailer and climb in. There’s an apology in his expression, and all I can do is nod before burying my face into Theo’s chest. I have no idea how much time passes. I’m too emotional, clinging to Theo’s damp T-shirt, my head buried in the crook of his neck.
It’s only when the truck slowly pulls away, and I hear the sound of gravel that he tilts my chin up, his brown eyes filled with love as I fight to come up with words while he wipes my tears away with gentle thumbs.
