Page 29 of The River in Spring
“So tell me. When was this and why did it end? I need to know, and then it will never be brought up again.”
“That’s fair. It was about a year ago.”
He doesn’t like that, I can tell. Hands comb through his thick hair and rest behind his head.
“So it basically just happened,” he says coolly.
“No. Well, yes, but there’s extenuating circumstances. Hear me out.”
He’s silent, staring straight ahead. So I begin.
“Jimmy and I have known each other since we were about nineteen. He’s always been in love with me.”
“Oh that’s great news,” Nobel says dryly. “I feel much better.”
“Hear me out. I realized it wouldn’t be kind to encourage what I did not feel. So, I talked about my boyfriends. I made sure he knew there was nothing but the undying affection of friendship between us. He and I had started a band way back then. Not the one you see now, but the seed was planted. We began writing our own music. We’ve been together through each incarnation of Montana.”
“How did you get from there to an engagement?”
I sigh into the memories of the story.
“My grandmother got sick first. Grandpa and I took care of her for just a year, but it took a toll. For him it was physical. For me, it affected my music. My focus on music and the band had to take second place status. That was just a fact. We lost our bass player and eventually the drummer. Why would talent hang around someone who is not putting the music first? Tony had an offer for another band and had to take it to survive. But Jimmy never budged. He stayed steady with me. Stayed even when his own source of income slid.”
Nobel’s arms come down and he angles his body toward mine as he listens.
“Then when Grandpa got sick two years later, there was just me to take the mantle. There was no other person to care for him as he deserved. So again, I became a caretaker. I’m not complaining, just explaining.”
“How did you survive financially?”
A little snort escapes me. “We had a home, a vegetable garden, and grandpa’s social security check to help us. There was a small savings account but that went fairly quick. I had to pick up gigs whenever I could. But by then we had been joined by Oscar and ZZ. They were the best we’d had. I think they could see the writing on the wall because grandpa was already in hospice. It wouldn’t be long until we’d be able to concentrate on getting dates booked. They were willing to wait. At the end, Tony came back. And that’s what happened.”
“I still haven’t heard how you ended up engaged to a man you say you didn’t love.”
“That’s the thing. It happened suddenly and I was trapped. Let me explain, please. Just listen.”
He remains silent.
“So, all those years, through all the romantic connections for each of us, nothing changed his mind. I could see the longing in his eyes. But he never acted on it. He had always been the most wonderful friend. When my grandparents got sick, he would do whatever he could to help them and me. They loved him. I had no one else to cry to and complain to and just generally let see the rawness of the situation. That’s where I made my mistake. I relied on him emotionally. Too much. But in my defense, I was in a fucking storm and I grabbed the lifeboat of friendship. I didn’t see that he was mistaking it for a possibility of love. It was entirely my fault, but I was so beat, so wounded, I let my guard down. He mistook my gratefulness as affection.”
“Still confused.”
“Here’s what happened. After my grandfather died, I took a month to decompress. Then I decided to have a party inviting only the closest people to me, the ones who had supported me and loved me so genuinely during the bad years. It was really beautiful, with laughter and tears. Stories. Almost everyone spoke of the love and devotion my grandparents and I shared. We had large amounts of tequila. There was dancing and singing. But around midnight, right in the middle of one of my songs, Jimmy grabbed the microphone. He asked everyone to stop. He took my hand and knelt in front of me. He proposed.”
Nobel waits.
“I was so shocked and so was everyone else. But there he was laying his heart out in front of God and friends. The entire world stopped for me as I tried to figure out what to do. The only thing that I could come up with was, say yes. Say yes here, and then I would tell him it couldn’t possibly be when we were alone. He could blame the proposal on being drunk off his ass. I could blame my agreement on the same. And that’s how it went down.”
He sits with the information, absorbing the truth.
“That must have been brutal.”
“It was for both of us.”
“So you never had sex with him?”
“No. God no.”
“He still loves you. Anyone can see it.”
