Chasing Abby(12)

“Why would I want to know what you’re getting me for my birthday? That would totally ruin the surprise.”
“Well, being surprised is not always a good thing. Look at how you reacted to my pregnancy.”
I roll my eyes and take a drink of soda. “Do you want to tell me what you got me for my birthday?”
He smiles and I don’t even have to know the answer to that question. Caleb is so terrible at keeping secrets.



CALEB PULLS THE ’Cuda into the parking lot of Eastgate Park at ten p.m. and I smile at his knack for remembering small details. He remembers where I was when I collapsed on the soccer field and was rushed to the hospital almost five years ago. He insists God was looking out for me that day. I wish I could feel as certain about that as he is.
We get out of the car and he immediately heads for the trunk. “It’s in here.”
“We were driving around with my present in your trunk this whole time?”
“Yep. And it’s not even wrapped.”
He pops the trunk open as I arrive at the back of the car. The moment I see it, my eyes begin to tear up and my throat constricts painfully.
“You got it?”
He reaches into the trunk and gently lifts the guitar out. “I got it months ago,” he says, holding out the Gibson Hummingbird acoustic-electric guitar I’ve been coveting for two years. “I asked the guy to keep it in the window in case you came back to look at it, as you always do.”
“You can’t afford this.”
He slings the strap over my shoulders. “Yes, I can. The estate lawyer sent me a check a few months ago.”
The tears come faster at this news. Caleb’s father passed away last year and he’s been waiting for the estate lawyer who handled his father’s will to disburse the inheritance. He told me he was going to get the meager inheritance on his eighteenth birthday in January. But when January came and went without any news from Caleb, I was too afraid to bring it up.
“I can’t accept this. This is a $4,000 guitar. That’s almost half your inheritance.”
“That money means nothing to me if I can’t use it on the only family I have left in this world.”
My fingers fall on the smooth body of the guitar and a chill passes through me. Caleb is the one who made me test out the guitar in the store two years ago. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. The sound was so beautiful and resonant it made me cry. But to hold it in my hands… to carry it home with me and call it my own… that’s beyond a dream come true. It’s a miracle.
“Caleb, I’ll always be your family. You don’t need to give me this.”
“It’s not a bribe.” He takes my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. “I just want to see you smile.”
I pull up the neck of my T-shirt and wipe the tears from my face. “Okay, I’ll keep it. But only if you let me play a lullaby for you and the baby.”
He scrunches his eyebrows together and smiles. “Of course,” he replies, rubbing his belly. “Let’s go lie under the stars. You, me, Junior, and—” His mouth drops open. “What are you gonna name the guitar?”
I shrug. “I hadn’t thought of that. What do you think I should name it?”
He slams the trunk closed then wraps his arm around my shoulder as we walk toward the soccer field. “How about Caleb’s Love Slave or ’Cuda Monster?”
I shake my head. “Terrible. How about… Blackbird?”
Caleb is silent as we trudge through the damp grass. I begin to wonder if he didn’t hear me, then he finally speaks. “You mean, like, a blackbird with broken wings?”
I stop walking and look up at him. “No. Like a blackbird who’s learning to fly.”