I greet her with a big hug, and my mom starts to cry.
I should call Harm right now. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I grip it to call her, feeling bad that in this moment with my mom I’m thinking about Harm.
But I can’t help it.
When we pull away from the hug, my mom’s smile is warm.
“I’m really, really sorry,” she says, wiping a tear away. “Will you accept my apology?”
I nod.
“Thank you,” she says. “And whatever you need from now on, I’m here for you.”
“Actually,” I say, “do you know any good copyright lawyers?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“A good lawyer for a copyright case.”
She squints. “What sort of copyright case?”
Feeling my phone buzz, I flip it over in my hand to see it.
My heart damn near drops to my feet when I swipe my phone open and read the message from Harm.
Hey, I know you’ve been running around doing your stuff, but I got an opportunity to move in with a friend, so I took it. Let’s talk soon.
Hunching over, my body suddenly feels very, very heavy. My chest tingles, and I put my hand over my heart.
“Zach, are you okay?” my mom asks.
I shake my head, stealing words from Harm. “I think I might be sick. When can I get a flight back to Nashville?”
My mom takes my hand. “You can switch your flight. But, Zach, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Are you going to reach out to Kennedee?”
I swallow. “I haven’t heard from her in so long…”
“You should reach out to her. After all, you’re the big brother.”
“She won’t pick up my calls. She’s blocked me.”
Mom picks up her phone, dials a number, and puts it on speaker. “Hey, Kennedee?”
“Yes?”
“There’s someone here who wants to talk to you.”
I clear my throat. “Kennedee? It’s Zach.”
Chapter 28
Harmony
I send the text to Zach, and then Fiona and I head out to the waterfall outside the city and enjoy a day in the wilderness.
My urge to disconnect from the stress of life is strong, and, in an act of rebellion, we leave our cell phones at home for the day.
Hiking through the forest, the wind rustles through the trees, and though we’re in the dead of hot summer in Nashville, the leaves and the shade provide us with a respite from the heat.
Fiona and I walk in silence until she finally speaks up. “You’re quiet.”
I shrug. “It’s just so nice here. No need to speak, really.”
She nods. “So how did Zach take it?”
I don’t want to admit that after sending the text to Zach about moving out, I’d had a freakout, thrown my phone into airplane mode, and pushed this trip to the wilderness in large part because I didn’t want to handle his callback.
“Fine,” I lie. “He understands.”
“Oh, well, that’s good. Water?” She hands me her bottle and I take a swig.
“Yeah. We’re totally, absolutely . . .” I clear my throat. “Fine and good.”
She squints as we continue trudging. “Well, is it?”
I recoil. “Is it what?”
“Is it too good to be true?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug and then blurt out: “Roddy sure was too good to be true.”
She halts, and her mouth hangs open.
“Roddy? You’re still letting that asshat affect your thought process? That was like four years ago.”
A hot afternoon breeze sweeps over us from between the trees. I refuse to acknowledge that an asshole such as Roddy is still affecting me.
“So you’re saying that’s not suspicious at all that Zach just up and left for California all of a sudden? I mean, what the hell is that?” I ask.
“What are you really afraid of?” she returns, taking a step closer to me.
“We fell into this thing so fast,” I answer. “What if he’s going to visit another woman?”
“Phew. Wow. That’s just . . . that’s not good if you’re thinking that. So you don’t trust him.”
“I do trust him. But the thought has crossed my mind.”
“Because of Roddy.”
“Maybe.”
We resume our walk along the trail. Handing the water bottle back to Fiona, I fidget with my hands as we step along.
“Roddy messed you up, didn’t he?”
“Not as much as Zach messed me up,” I add.
“Is messing you up,” she corrects.
When we’re done with our walk, we take the sandwiches out of the cooler and eat. Fiona pulls out a romance novel, and I grab my guitar and notebook and go sit under a tree.
A whiff of the forest hits me with its leafy, fresh scent, and I’m brought back to the very first time Zach and I crossed the line, in the crystalline waters of Old Salt Creek.
On the guitar, I find a chord that makes me think of water. It’s a minor, and the song starts out a little tragic. I put the hook on it and give it a little bit of hope, at least.
Damn. It doesn’t sound half bad.
Putting my guitar aside, I start to scribble.
Messed-up heart
You and me, we were meant to be
From the start, all we had is heart
Kissing on a Friday under a tree
Never crossed my mind how things fall apart
Even the best guys have a dark side
My heart never beat harder than that night
You took me underwater like the strongest tide
Our love was so perfect, we lost sight
My heart skipped a beat when that tide rolled in hard
Yeah, and you messed up my heart
Yeah, my messed-up heart
Will never be the same
My pen flies across the page at lightning speed.
Picking up my guitar, I play the chords I’d come up with and sing the lyrics as I strum.
I open up my heart to the pain and the sadness.
My stomach coils, but I channel the energy into my voice and sing.
A few hikers glance over at me, but I barely notice them as I sing my heart out.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Fiona is holding her book, wide-eyed.
“What song is that?”
I shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“No, I’ve heard that before, I swear.”
“Nope. Just made it up.”
“You just made that up?!”
“Yes,” I nod. “But it’s a good sign if you think you’ve already heard it. Means it’s catchy.” I run a hand through my hair. “Just need to work out a few more verses and we’ll be good.”
“I’ll leave you alone.”
After writing down more lyrics, I feel a whole lot better. Listening to music is therapeutic. I truly believe that.
But you know what’s even more weirdly therapeutic?
Writing music.
My heart feels light on the ride home. In fact, I’m almost giddy as we approach the city again.