Time Out of Mind (Suncoast Society #43)(83)

Mevi took a deep breath, barely remembering to put his IEMs in, and grabbed his stage acoustic from the stand it was propped in. After a couple of quick plucks to make sure it was in tune and that the guitar’s wireless pick-up was playing through his IEMs, accompanied by Bonnie giving them a C, he turned and stepped up to the mic.

As the room stilled, an anticipatory hush falling over the crowd, Mevi forced his gaze from Doyle’s and swept the room. He hoped his smile looked right.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, and thank you very much for allowing us to be a part of this evening. We always enjoy doing these shows and are happy to be partners with the McMurphy Paediatric Cancer Center. We’re honored to once again be involved with this wonderful organization’s efforts. What you do here is real heroics…”

He stumbled through a version of what he normally said at this particular event. “So…we hope you enjoy the show tonight.”

As applause and cheers thundered through the room, Mevi fought the urge to toss down his guitar, jump off the riser, and throw himself at Doyle’s feet. From the pleased expression on Tilly’s face behind Doyle, and from Doyle’s stunned expression, Mevi’s educated guess under the circumstances was that she’d ambushed Doyle.

Focusing on Doyle, he made a point of reaching up to adjust the mic, even though it didn’t need it, his right wrist facing out.

Where Doyle had to see.

Before he reached for a pick from the holder attached to the mic stand, he made a point of brushing his left thumb over his tats.

He decided to change the opening number and looked over to Bonnie. “‘Aloof Excuses.’”

Used to him doing this, she nodded. He glanced back to Pasch, who also nodded and started a gentle count off. As Mevi strummed the opening chord, his gaze once again fell upon Doyle.





Doyle wasn’t sure that he might not permanently lose the use of his left arm from the death grip Tilly had on him.

Now he got why she did that. He couldn’t leave without literally dragging her out of her chair and causing a scene, and she damn well knew it.

“Enjoy the concert, buddy,” she whispered.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Nah, bruh. You lubs me.” She kissed his cheek.

He immediately recognized “Aloof Excuses.”

How could he not?

He sensed it was a message from Mevi to him, but he wasn’t sure what yet.

And the markings on his wrist…that had to mean something, right?

Was it possible Mevi still loved him?

Was it possible he’d been wrong and should not have left?

If those two things were true, it meant he was the failure, and that he didn’t deserve the man’s love.

None of these questions racing through his brain could be answered right that moment, or even that evening. Not with a room full of kids surrounding them.

Mevi occasionally glanced around the room, but his gaze always returned to Doyle.



“And as I see you I realize,

My life before you was full of lies.

Now I know better, and together

We can celebrate the sunrise…”



Doyle’s vision blurred as Mevi sang, and he blindly groped for his napkin to dab at his eyes.

That was a new verse. One that impaled him straight through his heart.

He knew.

He knew without even talking to Mevi.

He’d been wrong. He’d jumped the gun.

He’d failed to trust his boy.

Doyle didn’t know what the full truth was, but it nearly made him sick to realize this man had far more trust and faith in him than Doyle rightfully deserved.

I don’t deserve him.





Somehow, Mevi made it through the entire set without breaking down. He changed it up completely, much to Bonnie’s thinly disguised frustration. But he wanted every song they sung to be a concert for Doyle.

A private declaration of his love for the man.

One Doyle would hopefully understand.

It was all he could do right now. Mevi knew he couldn’t do what he wanted to do, which was throw himself at Doyle’s feet.

Because of too many reasons to list, including a room full of kids.

Once they finished and the house lights were brought back up, they took a bow and stepped down off the riser to find their tables. Mevi knew he was at table 2…and of course, his seat was right next to Doyle.

But he made sure to work his way around the table, starting on the far side of his chair, and knelt down to introduce himself to each child and their parents, and the donors, getting the first round of selfies out of the way with them, learning their names and trying to commit them to memory. As the evening wore on, all of them would cycle through the room to meet everyone there, but after dinner.





Doyle knew from the way Mevi kept adjusting his mic between songs, his wrist facing out and toward him, that it was a direct statement.

One that threatened to draw more tears from him every time he saw him do it.

His boy still had faith in him.

It shattered his heart.

He started to rise as Mevi made the rounds, intending to escape, but he felt Tilly’s iron grip clamp around his right arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, buster?” she hissed.

“I’m leaving.”