Page 116 of Torch Songs

“I’d be happy to pay for that, ma’am,” Aaron said, and Tad liked the way he did that without sounding stuffy, while still maintaining propriety. “But yes, some food would certainly sit well. We’re both meat eaters, so hit us with your best shot.”

They sat and shared their sandwiches and steak frites, trying different sauces and generally enjoying the food while Corbin and Chiana took turns visiting their table and talking about the plans they had for the brewery and how they’d like to institute line dancing on the concrete apron between the brewery and the restaurant and generally making their business feel like a friendly place.

They finally left, and Tad polished off the last of the steak frites and gave a happy sigh.

“This is a good place,” he said, gazing out into the sunshine. “We could be happy here.”

At that moment, his pocket buzzed and he fished out his phone, his breath catching as he read the message from a strange number.

Jock gave me a cell phone as a goodbye present. May have to return in a couple of weeks and after Christmas. Only if you can come with.

I’m heading for the city—recording starts tomorrow.

So glad to be texting again—emailing is SO boring.

Miss you so much I don’t know how I’ll sing. Hard to sing if you can’t breathe.

Say hi to Livvy and April for me, okay?

Reply when you can. I’ll have service for days in a few, but no time.

Love you—G

He stared at the phone, his eyes wide and shiny as he read the message again and again and again.

Like a song he put the things together. Guthrie’s father must have died in the past couple of days. Jock had done a great big thing, finding the money for the phone. Guthrie would be returning for Jock. Tad was the first person he texted. He planned to drive himself hard so the recording could be finished soon.

Guthrie missed Tad so much he couldn’t breathe.

Tad bit his lip and rubbed his thumbs over them again.

“That him?” Aaron hazarded, breaking into his thoughts.

“Yeah,” Tad murmured.

“What’s he say?”

“He loves me.” Tad stared up at him, shiny, overfull eyes and all, and smiled.

GUTHRIE PUTalmost the last of his money in the parking meter three blocks from the hotel—enough for six hours, when he could ask Seth and Kelly if they knew where he could park the truck during the recording session that wouldn’t cost an arm and a leg.

He was asleep in the front, leaning against the passenger’s side window with one of his blankets folded up behind his head like a pillow when there was a hard knock on the window.

Guthrie groaned and leaned forward, his patter ready on his lips even as he rolled down the window. “Sorry, Officer, I’ve paid the meter, as you can see, and I’m just waiting for some friends from the airport—oh my God!”

“Guthrie!” Seth said, waving madly in spite of the fact he and Kelly were standingright therenext to the truck. “What are you doing there? Why didn’t you go park at the hotel? Oh my God, have you eaten?”

Guthrie grimaced. This was the delicate part. “Well, you know, valet parking and all. I didn’t know where our rooms were—”

“And you couldn’t pay the valet price or the food price,” Kelly said astutely.

Guthrie grimaced. “And I’m pretty much on my last two hundred bucks,” he admitted, “and I was hoping that was the gas to get me home.”

Seth’s eyes lightened with understanding—but not pity. One of the things that had drawn Guthrie to both Seth and Kelly was that they’d both been there.

“How did you find me?” Guthrie asked before they could say anything. “I mean—”

“We were just shaking off the trip,” Kelly said, wiggling his short but powerful body. “And then we sawthispiece of shit and thought, ‘Naw, that couldn’tpossiblybe him!’”

---