Chapter 14

14

Kara

Silas texted me when he got off, just to say he had a long night and he was going home to crash. Now, I’m on my way to pick up Lana and Katy from school, and my phone rings with him calling.

“Silas awake,” I state as my hello.

He laughs in question. “What?”

I giggle as I say, “That’s what Katy used to yell from her room when she woke up from her nap as her way of asking us to get her out of her crib.”

“Well then, yes. Silas awake. Now, come back to my crib.” He chuckles.

I laugh even louder. “Cute, but I can’t. I’m on my way to pick up the girls.”

“When are you off?”

“Not until seven.”

“Then, you’ll come over?”

I smile even though I know he can’t see me. “Yes, then I’ll come over.”

“Great. Bring your guitar too. I want to hear you play.”

Now, a tear comes to my eye. I never thought I’d find a guy who would support my music career as much as he does.

“Okay. See you then.”

“Bye,” he says in a sexy voice that makes my chest tight.

I pull up to the girls’ school, find a place to park, and walk to Katy’s class because she gets out first.

“Hi, Kara!” she says, jumping into my arms.

“Hello, sweet girl.” I hug her tight.

I knew I always wanted to be a mom, but after being a nanny for these two girls, it’s absolutely solidified that it is one of my top goals in life. The happiness they bring to my life is unlike anything else, and I can’t even imagine what it would feel like, knowing they are actually your kids.

We get Lana from her class, and after they’re both buckled in, we head to their place.

“How was your day?” I ask. “Give me a high and a low.”

Lana always answers first, and it’s funny how Katy looks at her, waiting patiently for her to talk so she can share her stories of the day.

“I got to show the entire class my drawing today!” she states proudly.

“That’s awesome! Did you leave it at school, or do I get to see it too?”

“It’s in my bag, so we can hang it on the fridge when we get home.”

“Absolutely!”

I don’t ask about the low as I wait to see if they have anything to share. We pull up to a stoplight, and I look in the mirror to see her sitting in the back seat with her finger on her chin, like she’s thinking.

“That’s it today. No lows for me.”

“Then, it sounds like it was a great day! What about you, Katy?”

“I finished my cutting project first, and Ms. Steck held it up to show the class how good I did.”

“That’s amazing!” I say exaggeratedly, loving how excited they both are about their day.

“I did have a low today too.” Her sad voice makes me pause to look at her before I make my turn at the Stop sign.

“What happened?”

“I fell on the playground. Look.” She holds up her knee to show me a tiny scrape.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. You’re okay now though, right?”

She sighs. “Yeah. It hurt when it happened, but when I saw there wasn’t any blood, I went right back to playing.”

“I’m glad to hear it didn’t ruin your recess.”

“Nope! Laura and I still did some jump rope.”

We pull up to their house, and I help them get out of the car and into the house. They both put down their bags, go to wash their hands, then pull out whatever homework they have for the day.

I hang Lana’s art on the fridge after praising her on the job well done, then open the fridge and look inside. “Do you guys want a snack?”

“Yes, please,” they say in unison.

I cut some apples and set out some crackers as they get to work. Watching the way their little hands hold pencils as they diligently do their work always puts a smile on my face. These two little girls are so special, and I pray, one day, my children are as good as they are.

When Heather gets home, we talk for a few minutes, and then I leave and go to my house to grab my guitar before I head to Silas’s.

I pull up to his house, and he’s quick to open the door and meet me out front, offering to carry my guitar case for me.

“I’m used to lugging this thing around,” I tease after he gives me a kiss hello.

“I know, but it doesn’t mean you have to.”

We walk inside, and I see he’s already got dinner ready to go. He hands me a plate, then dishes up the lasagna he made.

“Now, this I could get used to,” I say with a laugh.

“With you getting off so late, I figured you’d be hungry. I hope lasagna is okay.”

“It’s amazing. Thank you!”

“There’s sourdough bread and butter already on the table.”

I lean up and kiss his cheek. “You’re too sweet.” I walk to the table and take my seat, where a glass of wine is waiting for me. “You know, if you start off this way, I’m going to get used to being spoiled like this.”

He lets out a loud laugh as he carries his plate to the table. “Well, I can tell you this is what I would have done tonight if you were here or not, so stick around, and you will get spoiled like this on days I’m not at work.”

“So, this isn’t just an act to lure me in, and then you never cook for me again?”

He picks up his wineglass, holding it up to me to cheers. “The wine is the only thing I might not do in the future, and we might eat in front of the television, but dinner will always be supplied. I like to cook.”

I pick up my glass to clink it with his, then take a drink. “Then, I might have to stick around.”

“I’m hoping you do.”

We eat dinner, talking about our day and the calls he had last night. I don’t understand how he does it. They got two calls in the middle of the night, so he got three hours of sleep total. I’d be an absolute zombie, yet he has to perform at a high level of brain function. It’s impressive for sure.

After cleaning up our dinner, he grabs my guitar and heads to his backyard. “Want to sit out here and play for me?”

Tingles of both excitement and nerves race through me. I’ve never played for just one person before.

“Sure …”

I grab my wineglass and follow him out.

He points to the couch and then the chair across from the couch. “What’s more comfortable for you to sit in while you play?”

“I’ll take the chair.” I put my glass down, and after he sets the case down next to the chair, I open it.

I take a deep breath as I sit down and place the guitar on my lap, looking down at it, thinking of what to play.

My eyes meet with his, and instantly, my chest tightens, so I bite the inside of my lip, trying to calm whatever is going on inside of me.

Silas tilts his head to the side with a concerned expression. “What’s wrong?”

I chuckle, hiding my nerves. “I’ve never played for someone like this.”

“You perform in front of a crowd. I’ve already seen you twice. How is this different?” he asks in a soft voice.

I inhale and let it out slowly, while I figure out how to explain how it is different.

He stands and removes his shirt. “Aren’t you supposed to envision the crowd naked? I can be naked so you don’t have to envision it.”

I laugh out loud. “No, that’s not how it works.”

He pulls his shirt back on.

“If you get naked, we won’t make it through one song,” I say under my breath before I realize he can hear me.

“Oh, don’t you worry. We’ll get there too. I just want to hear you sing first.”

He sits back down as heat fills my entire body at the thought of being close to him.

I strum a few chords, checking to make sure the guitar is in tune, and think of what song to play. “Okay, I got it. Let’s see if you recognize this one.”

I play a few chords, then start singing, “ It’s all right to tell me what you think about me .”

It’s a punk rock song by Blink-182, but I’ve slowed it down and created my own version. I’ve been working on playing with songs like that to show people how much just the pace of the song can change the entire vibe.

I get lost in the words and the chords I’m playing, keeping my eyes shut and feeling every line deep in my soul.

When I get to the end of the song, I really slow down when I sing, “ Well, I guess this is growing up .”

Once I’m done, I take a deep breath and look up at him for the first time since I started.

“Wow …” He claps slowly. “Just wow. What song was that?”

A grin grows on my face. “You didn’t recognize it?”

“It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I’ve definitely never heard a version like that.”

“I’ve been playing with popular songs that have really powerful words, but since they are played at such a fast beat, people lose the meaning of what they’re singing.”

“I’ve never thought about that.”

“Yeah. Who would have thought a Blink-182 song could be that meaningful?”

“That was Blink-182?”

“Yep, that was their song ‘Dammit.’”

“You’re shitting me.” He reaches for his phone—I’m assuming to play it through one of his music apps.

The familiar punk rock guitar starts off the song as he watches the video on YouTube intently. I put the guitar down and go to sit next to him.

When they begin to sing the words, he pops his head up, recognizing what I just sang, then turns his attention back to the small screen, where three guys are jumping around, acting like fools at a movie theater.

The way they play it makes it sound so fun and active, yet the true meaning of the song is anything but.

When it’s over, he turns to face me. “I never would have thought a punk rock song had such deep meaning.”

A big smile spreads across my face. “Every song has meaning, good or bad. You just have to pay attention to the words. The faster the beat, the less you feel. All you have to do is slow it down, and the entire feelings change.”

“That it does.” He sits back and thinks. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever look at any song the same.”

This makes me smile even bigger. “That’s the point. Songs can be very meaningful. They can make you feel things you might not have thought of. They are therapy for sure.”

He nods his head very slowly. “For sure.” Then, he sits up just enough to crawl on his knees to me. “You know what else is therapy?”

I follow his lead and lie down on my back, allowing him to climb on top of me. “No.” I play dumb. “Will you show me?”

“Oh, I’ll show you all right.”

He kisses me, and all of my senses disappear. I focus only on him and the power he has over my body, healing every ounce of me with one kiss.