Page 23 of Anchor Grey
Johnny
Devon was worried, but I had faith that what Rex had told me was accurate and truth be told this was about as far away from anything to do with the band as we could get. Not that I wanted us to end up stuck in a Sierra snowstorm, but there were worse things. “The stew should be ready to eat,” I said, and kissed him before walking into the kitchen.
“It smells delicious,” Devon said. He walked over to the window and looked outside at the snow that was now building up on the rocks by the river, the road, and the deck. “I can’t remember the last time I saw snow falling.”
“Me either. We really need to try the hot tub in the snow.”
“Maybe if it’s not negative three,” Devon said and watched as I poured stew into two bowls and cut two big slices of bread. “Babe, that looks so good. You know I didn’t bring you up here to cook right?”
“Well, since you didn’t know I could cook then I guess it’s safe to say you didn’t bring me here to cook.” I kissed his cheek as he took a seat at the bar, and I waited for him to try it. “I haven’t made stew in a long time so hopefully it’s good.”
He stirred it up and smelled it before taking a spoonful and scooping it into his mouth. His eyes widened and he hurried to take another bite. “This is so good,” he said.
I tore off a piece of bread and soaked it in the broth before taking a big bite. “Mmm so good.”
“So, are you going to cook for Mateo and Jeremy too?”
“Sure, if they make it up here.”
“Do you think there’s a chance they won’t?”
“It depends on the weather, but, Devon, I’m not ready to leave here yet. Even if they don’t show up, I want to stay here the full two weeks.” There was something about being here that healed a part of me I never knew needed it.
“Whatever you need. I’m here for you,” he said.
We spent the rest of the day the way we started it, sitting on the couch under a mountain of blankets, watching movies and occasionally having a snack or two. All the while the snow grew deeper, and another part of me relaxed. When the movie ended Devon stretched before standing and walking down the hall.
“I might as well use this time to be a little creative,” he said and tossed the old notebook I knew he used to write lyrics in, onto the couch.
“Is there something you’re working on?” I asked and scooted closer once he sat down.
“Yeah, I had an idea last night and jotted down a few lines. But you don’t have to work on this. I know you want time off, but the idea just hit me.”
“It’s okay, I like working with you.”
“If you’re sure?” he said and handed me the notebook that was folded around exposing a page with lots of scribbles and a few lines of what could eventually be a song.
Burning like a fire that’s too hot to contain.
Feeling so much love, I don’t know what will remain.
The way I feel for you cannot ever really be named.
But the fire that burns around us threatens to overwhelm and extinguish every emotion even those that won’t be named.
“That’s all I have so far. I don’t know, maybe it’s a little too—”
“It’s perfect, keep going with it. Did you have a name for it yet?”
“Not yet. It’ll come to me though,” Devon said and reread what he’d written.
“I don’t want you to quit the band,” I said.
“What? Why would I?”
“I mean, if I leave you don’t have to,” I said. I’d had so many different thoughts about the band. I thought of leaving, and I also thought of Devon leaving with me. But I didn’t want to be the reason he made that choice. He’d said he was tired of the constant grind too, and I knew it was true.
“Johnny, I’m an adult. If I want to leave the band, it won’t be because you are. It’ll be because I’m over it. Don’t worry, babe, I would never put that on you. This is my choice.” He held my face in his hands and looked me straight in the eye. He meant every word.
