Page 3 of Torch Songs

Roberta grinned, obviously enchanted. “I’m not bad,” she said primly.

“Good.” Seth nodded, taking her at her word. “You guys, me and Kelly are going to talk to all the people, and we’re gonna dance and we’re gonna eat and we’re gonna have us a helluva party.” He sobered. “I got us a house all lined up, and we’re moving at the end of January. I’m gonna miss the hell out of everybody until we get to visit again, so you gotta make it good.”

Guthrie nodded, a solemn oath, and held out his hand for Seth to shake. “I promise upon my honor,” he said soberly.

“God, you’re fun,” Seth told him, shaking his hand.

They all broke up then to load into cars and minivans and rental mobiles—Guthrie watched as Kelly chivvied Seth into the passenger seat of an obviously new SUV after Seth had put the kids in the back, and laughed.

“What?” Roberta asked after they’d climbed into the cab of his ancient pickup truck, a vehicle so ugly Guthrie had almost expected to be stopped when they’d paid the fee for the lot at the state park where the wedding had been held. Across the street a few die-hard duffers were struggling through the bitter wind to capitalize on the famed golf-course’s available tee times, but Seth and Kelly had managed to reserve a spit of sidewalk with a fenced-in promontory over a shoal of storm-tossed rocks. Guthrie had to admit, the scenery was right out of a Brontë movie. Whowouldn’tbe moved to confess undying love whenright below their feet was proof of the mutability of life and the ever-present threat of mortality?

“Nothing,” Guthrie said, slamming his door hard to make sure it shut. He cranked up the heater after he hit the ignition, because Roberta had worn a dress and her knees under her black tights were practically blue. “Just that he’s traveled the world, he’s overcome hardships, he’s married the man of his dreams and is adopting two precious children, and that boystillhasn’t learned how to drive.”

Roberta let out a half laugh, because in California, that was practically heresy. “Why not? Does he have some sort of disability?”

Guthrie shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s say the opportunity didn’t present itself when he was younger, and our Fiddler is highly distractible. He’s a sweet kid, but practicality ain’t his strong suit.”

“And I got to hear him play at his own wedding.” Roberta gave a happy shiver. “And the week isn’t over yet. Guthrie, I know you’re probably eating your heart out, but I have to say thank you again, for being the most awesome friend.”

“You know what?” Guthrie said, steering the truck around the 17 Mile Drive, careful not to go too fast around the curves. The ancient Chevy pickup was not exactly known for hugging the road.

“What?” she asked, huddling deeper into her wool coat and lush wool scarf.

“I may not actually be eating my heart out.” He felt the words as he said them, a sort of letting go, a freedom from the burden of heartache that had plagued him for so long.

“Really?” she asked, sounding sort of excited.

“Yeah, darlin’. I… I mean, I love them both. I love Amara and Vince, and given how absolutely adorable Kelly’s sisterswere and how kind his parents seem to be, I could love them all too. But… but that’s not the same as beinginlove, you know?”

“Yeah,” she said carefully. “I know.”

“Well maybe, after this, I can just love them. I don’t have to worry about beinginlove with Seth. That would be load off my heart, you think?”

Roberta nodded. “Yeah,” she said softly. “But you know what would put the cherry on the being-free sundae, don’t you?”

He grimaced. “Can’t we be happy with my heartfelt revelation right now?”

“Honey, I’m not going to be happy until you get laid.”

WELL, ITdidn’t happen that long, long weekend—but Guthrie wasn’t looking for that. Instead, all the things Seth had promised happened. People ate together, talked together, reminisced together. The musicians played together, and the friends and family danced together.

They even went to the aquarium together and on short, brine-tossed boat rides that made Guthrie feel like singing sea shanties and playing the theme fromJaws.

As far as he and Roberta were concerned, it was a sweet, happy holiday with people they came to regard as family by the time it was over.

On the last night—New Year’s Eve—most everybody went to bed after the ball dropped, but the original core of movie-watchers from Seth’s old school—Vince, Amara, Kelly, Seth, and Guthrie—all stayed up late, lounging in the front room in front of a gas-powered fireplace, drinking wine. The wine thing was new for Seth, and he only drank a little, but apparently Amara had been trying to teach him how to order and accept a glass of wine in a restaurant so it wasn’t a production.

“Even if you hate it,” she said soberly, “you’re only sipping it anyway, so nobody questions if you don’t finish the glass.”

“Just don’t order red,” Seth said seriously. “Headaches. Oh my God.”

Kelly snorted. “Hate to tell you all, but I’ve actuallybeen clubbing. I order shots. I’m fine.”

Seth grunted. “I tried once—it was in front of my conductor in Italy. He knocked it back, I tried to do the same, and I coughed so hard I threw up all over us both. It’s a good thing we were in his kitchen. God.”

“Which is why he came to me when we moved to New York,” Amara said. Seth had been all over the world in the last four years, while Kelly had been forced to stay home to help take care of his family, which Seth had subsidized with his music. Guthrie could tell the stories were their way of making up for lost time, but they were fun nonetheless.

“Yeah,” Vince said. “I was with a dorm of three guys, and they were like, ‘pub crawl!’ So I learned to drink beer. I can tell youallabout beer.” He shuddered. “So much.”

---