When I got home, I couldn’t sleep. For the first time in a while, it wasn’t swirling doubts that kept me up, but excitement.
It felt good—something on the horizon that was just...fun. Talking to Landon was fun, and I couldn’t wait to hear from him again.
He texted me early, and I grinned as we made plans to meet up that night after I had band practice. Clearly I wasn’t the only one lost in the sauce.
That buoyant mood carried me through the whole day—through lunch and an afternoon spent at a cafe trying to come up with lyrics. Even the words not coming wasn’t that annoying, and when I sat down that afternoon in the studio to play, I had a moment of inspiration.
Okay, not lyrically, but I was strumming something on the guitar that I’d never played before when Craig came in.
I’d gotten there early because I’d just felt like playing something, and I didn’t expect Craig or Riley for at least another half hour—maybe forty-five minutes in Riley’s case.
But Craig got there early, met my eyes, and gave me the strangest grimace before setting up his amp.
“You okay, man?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Craig said, his back to me. “Sounds good. That something new?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I wanted to grow it into something, if I could find the words. Words had just never been my specialty. “Honestly? I was just in a good mood. You think there’s something there?”
Craig flinched before he turned to look at me. “Yeah, it sounds great. Can I—um, can I talk to you about something?”
I waved to the amp across from me and he perched on the edge of it.
Something was wrong. Craig’s brow was bunched in the middle. His lips twisted to the side.
Finally, he took a deep breath.
“Becky’s pregnant.”
Time stopped. My heart did a little flip in my chest.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“That’s great, man!” I leaned over and squeezed his knee. “That’s so awesome. Everyone good?”
Some of the tension went out of his shoulders. “Oh yeah. So far, anyway. It’s technically a high-risk pregnancy, but that’s just because—well, we’re getting up there, you know? I don’t think there’s anything specific they’re worried about, but it’s still scary when ‘high-risk’ comes out of a doctor’s mouth.”
“Absolutely. That’d freak me the fuck out, but Becky’s good, and you’re good. It’s gonna be good.”
I sounded like a doofus, but what the fuck did I know about having kids? I was just happy for them.
Craig still nodded, like he needed to hear those words, even from someone who didn’t know what the hell they were talking about.
“Yeah,” he said. “Thing is, I?—”
His tension was back, and even though he kept his head down, I could see it in his neck and shoulders, smell the anxiety in the air.
I held my breath while he struggled to get it out.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He was staring down at his knees, at my hand still there, squeezing his leg. “I just mean the, like, practices multiple times a week and shows and—man, I still want to play with you, but I’ve got to pick up the slack with Kimmy, and I want to be there, you know? I don’t want to mess this up, or stress Becky out, or?—”
“Craig?”
He flinched, but he looked up at me, his eyes swimming with tears. It was all too familiar to me, that feeling when you were scared you were letting someone down.
Was he letting me down?
