Chapter Thirteen
The next two days passed both slowly and too quickly, Jax thought, as he heard the farewell party being set up in the courtyard for Brad and Serena Morrison on Friday evening. He hadn't spoken to Kaia since they'd gotten back from breakfast on Wednesday. He was surprised she hadn't come knocking on his door, but she'd made her stance clear, and she was probably waiting for him to make the next move, to decide whether he wanted to move forward or stay stuck. He still felt conflicted about it all, but he'd finally made one decision. He would go to the barbecue. Not really because he was ready to join the community, but because he wanted to see Kaia again.
He also wanted to get away from Clay's continued calls. He'd finally put him off by saying he'd read the email, and he had a lot to think about. He would get back to him by next week. Clay had wanted to keep talking, but he had finally agreed to back off for a few days. He suspected Clay thought that since he hadn't said no again; he was leaning toward yes. That wasn't really the case. It was just a decision he couldn't seem to make, which left him in the gray clouds of uncertainty that Kaia had warned him about.
Maybe talking to her would give him some clarity. Not that he wanted to talk to her about Wren's song. He just wanted to talk to Kaia about life because she made him look at things differently.
A knock came at his door, and he jumped, his heart speeding up as he opened the door and saw the woman that he'd been thinking about standing right in front of him, wearing a short blue dress that hugged her curves and brought a knot to his throat.
"Hi," she said. "Are you coming to the party?"
"I was going to drop by for a bit," he said. "Has it started yet?"
"Not yet. Can I come in?"
That felt like a dangerous request, but he couldn't say no, so he stepped back and waved her inside. He had a minimal amount of furniture in his apartment, most of it donated by Josie, who had had a couch and kitchen table with chairs left behind by another tenant. The only things he'd bought were a bed, a TV, and a card table to hold his tools and supplies.
As Kaia's gaze swept the room, it immediately came to rest on the card table where the clamp lamp was angled toward the neck of a half-disassembled guitar. Coils of string spilled from a coffee tin beside screwdrivers, fret files, wire cutters, and a soldering iron that was resting on a folded rag. A battered toolbox sat open on the floor, with mason jars filled with loose tuning pegs, screws, and picks lined along the floorboard. Three guitars leaned carefully against the wall beside the table, each one in a different stage of repair.
"What is all that?" Kaia asked in surprise.
"I've been doing some restoration work for the music shop in town. They refurbish instruments for the local schools. I help with the guitars."
"Seriously? That's very generous and also surprising. I thought you were staying as far away from music as you possibly could."
"I needed something to do with my time, and my grandfather used to build guitars, so I know my way around the instrument. I also can't blame an object for my downward spiral, so I've made my peace with the guitar."
She gave him a thoughtful look. "Do the people at the music shop know who you are?"
"The owner does. He recognized me right away, but he said he liked to mind his own business, which made things easier. And I think he feels even less like talking about me since I'm working for free. But that's not why I'm doing this. It feels good to focus on something productive, and to be able to give kids the opportunity to play is something that's always been important to me."
"Once again, you're not sounding like a liar, a fraud, and a thief."
"There are other adjectives used to describe me," he said dryly. "Those were just the ones that came to mind."
"Your grandfather ran a campground and taught you how to fish and build guitars. He seems like an interesting man and also the only person in your family you ever talk about."
"You haven't looked me up online since you learned my real name?" he challenged.
She shook her head. "No. I haven't had time. I had to work a double shift yesterday, and to be honest, I don't want to learn about you online. I won't know what's real and what's clickbait or completely made up."
"There is a lot of garbage out there."
"Do you have parents? Siblings?" she pressed.
"No."
"Are your parents deceased?" she asked. "Are you going to make me ask you twenty questions about your family?"
He let out a sigh. "I was the product of a college party one-night stand. My mother didn't know the guy, didn't even go to that school, and by the time she realized she was pregnant, she was in another state and finding him wasn't an option. So, she had me on her own. She did her best, but she died in a car crash when I was seven. That's when I went to live with my grandfather at the campground. He was a widower, so it was just the two of us. We didn't have much, but we had nature and fishing and music. He passed away when I was seventeen, and that's when I was truly on my own."
Her brows drew into a tight, concerned frown. "I'm so sorry, Jax. That's really young to be so alone."
"It wasn't easy. My grandpa had been scraping by for years, and the campground got sold to pay his debts. I basically ended up with his truck, his guitars, and that was it."
"When did Wren come into your life? You said she was the closest thing you had to family."
"We met the summer after my grandfather died. I was roaming around Omaha in the music scene, and so was she. We joined a few bands here and there. Most of them fell apart at some point. Eventually, the two of us ended up in Nashville. We needed money, so we would hit up the clubs. I would play. She would sing. That's how the duo came to be. We were playing one night when an agent walked in and said he wanted to sign us. He was starting out, too, so he was as hungry as we were. He helped us get more gigs. As we got more popular, we picked up some other musicians and called ourselves Blackbird. Wren was the bird. She was the dreamer. I was the one who veered toward the darkness, so we thought the name suited us." He paused, surprised the words had come so easily after months of silence. As the courtyard outside grew noisier, he added, "I think the party is starting."
