Page 28 of Once Upon A Christmas Song

“You won’t become millionaires like that.”

“And that thinking right there, that used to matter. Not anymore.”

I looked at him.

“What?”

“The last time I saw you, all you wanted was for you and the guys to be the next Led Zeppelin.”

He groaned. “Yeah, I know. And don’t get me wrong, we’ve put out some really good music that people love, but why can’t I have both? Why does it have to be all or nothing? Why can’t I have a home with my wife and my daughter, and still make music with friends?”

I gave him a clap on the shoulder. “You can do whatever you want. The world is your oyster and all that.”

He squinted at me.

“You know what I meant.”

“Well, what we’d like now is to be your house band again because that’s home, yanno? Back where we started, split profits again, and when we go out on tour or when we start making the record, we’ll be responsible for finding people to fill in.”

I met his gaze, and he smiled slowly.

“Unless you don’t want to do that,” he said innocently. “I hear gospel’s really hot right now.”

I flipped him off. “I thought they were a country band.”

“I’m sure you did with your discerning eye and all.”

Shoving my hands into my pockets, I walked toward the club entrance. Ben followed, but instead of letting me go back, he shoved me sideways so I was forced to take a hard seat on the windowsill—I’d had it widened years ago so people could sit there when the band was playing in the evening.

“Two things,” he said flatly.

“Go ahead.”

“First, you’ve gotta be hurt that we were all here, all back in the Quarter, but no one came by or looked you up.”

I shrugged.

“It would hurt me, so I know it has to be the same.”

“You had your reasons,” I conceded. “I know that.”

“Which might sound stupid to you but, there was no way without Dawson here that we could’ve just shown up,” he told me. “It wouldn’t have been right to come before he could. Before he was ready.”

“I get that.”

“But I really need you to hear me on this,” he choked out, and I saw his eyes narrow so he wouldn’t cry, heard his breath catch, and saw him press his lips together tight for a moment. “We don’t work without him, and he’s the same. So it had to be the group ready to return, not just one of us. Not only me, or only Luther or any of us. But together.”

It was how they had always been, all parts of the whole.

“What I need you to know, and remember, is that how we are doesn’t mean you’re not––” His voice went out on him and he had to stand there a moment and gather himself up. “––a part of us too.”

His swimming eyes stole my words for a moment but I recovered. “Thank you.”

He took a deep breath in and then exhaled it out.

“And second?” I rasped, as affected by the surge of feeling as he was.

“Second, don’t keep us from making money and helping you at the same time just because of your history with Daw.”