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I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. I’m pretty sure this Carlos thing is not just the presentation.
“Well, I hate to say this, but a one-night-stand in London that you’re never going to see again probably isn’t going to cut it.”
“It can’t hurt. Orgasms are nice in that way, especially non-self-inflicted ones.”
I roll my eyes at her affectionately, and she grins. “Maybe you need to go on an actual date.”
“Blasphemy,” she says. “Besides, I’d only leave the man behind, brokenhearted, when my time in Madrid is up. We can’t all happily settle down like you. And unlike you three, I have a job in Austin to get back to soon.”
“Six more months,” I say, a musical lilt in my voice. “A lot could change for you in six months.”
After all, six months ago, I boarded a plane, my first passport in hand. I’d never even heard of Verduistering, and here I am, in love with a rock-star guitarist and running a yoga course inspired by him.
“Just you wait, Jade. I have a feeling your dry spell will be over soon.”
Chris
Nine more months later...
“Oh, sure. Austin calls itself the live music capital of the world. We can hit a few places tonight that you’ll love,” Zoe assures Alwin.
Alwin, and the rest of Verduistering, are in our house in Austin. It’s still the same house where Sara lived with Kit, where she raised Zoe, where I scared the pants off of her about thirteen months ago trying to be romantic.
It’s surreal to have my past life colliding with my new life like this.
Sara and I lived in London for a few months, then moved back to Austin for South by Southwest, then back to London. Sara and I finished the Rock Steady series, and then she launched her first yoga retreat, which was a success, and led to her second retreat in Bali and her third one next month in Sri Lanka.
Zoe’s study abroad in Germany ended, as did Jade’s year working in Madrid and Emma’s MBA program in Rome. Tessa lives in France with Luc now, and Sara hopes to detour to visit her whenever we fly over to London for my work.
Now, Alwin, June, and Ram are in our living room, celebrating Ram’s first year of sobriety. Sara is serving flavored sparkling water and her favorite vegan chocolate bonbons—not laced, of course—after a casual dinner.
I haven’t seen my former bandmates since Sara’s and my wedding five months ago. It was in Crete, a small ceremony attended by the three of them and Sara’s friends and their partners, with Zoe as the only member of the wedding party.
Ram looks good. They all look good, actually. Ram’s hair has gotten a little longer and has curled out of control, but he’s also filled in a little more, bulked up. He’s gotten into Crossfit, which has gained traction in Europe now.
June’s her natural self today, blonde ringlets and dimples and a four-month baby bump. When the band split, she decided she wanted to have a kid before age became a limiting factor, so she used a sperm donor. She’s been talking to Sara about her pregnancy symptoms and happily rubbing her belly.
Alwin looks the same, still smiling and charming and entirely too flirty with my wife.
But Sara just rolls her eyes and swats at him when he tries to convince her to join them out on the town tonight.
“I’ll leave it to the young and the young at heart,” she says, pointedly looking at Alwin.
He clasps his hands to his chest, wounded. “Are you saying I’m not young?”
Sara smirks and slips deeper into the couch beside me. I kiss the top of her head and let my arm slip from her shoulder to dangle down her chest and tangle my fingers with hers. Sara’s dressed up more than usual today in black leggings and a blouse instead of her yoga outfit. Her hair is loose and shows more gray hairs than it did a year ago, but now we compare signs of aging—we both got a good laugh last week when I discovered my first gray pubic hair.
When I glance up, coming back to the party from my thoughts, I find my three former band members staring at me.
“What?”
June and Ram glance at Alwin, whose knee is bouncing. He takes a big breath before speaking. “We want to get Verduistering back together, but do it right this time.”
Sara freezes under my arm, and I wish I could see her face. Alwin’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of us.
Sara sits up, and I do too. “What does that mean?” I ask.
“We want to go back on tour but hire a consultant,” Alwin explains. “Other bands have done something similar, where the consultant works with us to tackle issues like substance abuse, mental health, and interpersonal conflict. Some bands use them virtually, but Marcus and the label are willing to pull someone in full-time if we can get a new album out.”
