Sweet Forty-Two(28)

“Eh,” CJ laughed, “maybe your excitement got a little redirected.”

“You’re an *. Seriously, though. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even ... she’s not really my type. And even though I couldn’t admit it to myself at the time, when she pulled away I felt a huge sense of relief. Like I’m carrying around guilt, or something. About Rae.”

CJ punched my shoulder. “She backed away? Burn, dude. Burn. Way to put the Kane family name to shame.”

“CJ,” I sighed, “somehow I doubt that our forefathers dreamed that the activities you concern yourself with would be dignifying to our family name.”

He stood and held out his hand. “You’re wrong. I’m definitely a legend.”

“In the healthcare industry, maybe.” I mumbled as I reached for his hand. He pulled his away, sending me back to the floor.

“I’m always safe, dude.” He used his helping hand to give me the finger.

“Whatever. Ready to go see the recording studio?” I stood and fished the apartment key from my pocket, heading for the door.

“Only if I can bang on the drums,” he jested.

“Only if that’s the only thing you bang while we’re there.”

“Damn it,” he playfully hissed. “Good one.”

As we drove to the studio, I replayed the bonehead move I’d made to try to kiss Georgia, and prayed that she’d just forget about it.

There was still too much of Rae swimming in my heart to let my lips confuse someone else.





Regan

“Ooooh, man, this place!” CJ slapped his hand off the roof of my car as we stood in front of the recording studio.

“You haven’t seen the inside yet, you freak.” I closed my door and headed for the brick building with a faded Blue Seed Studios sign.

“You don’t always have to see things to know how awesome they are.” As he stood and looked at the door in reverence, I wondered if he ever knew the depth in some of the things he said. “Do Ember’s parents own this studio?”

I nodded. I swiped my badge in the key reader to the left of the door, and with one click we were granted access to the place where I’d be spending eighty-five percent of my time for the next few months. I’d only been in here once before, when Ember gave me my key card and the grand tour, so everything still felt new. Even though I’d been in several recording studios all over the world, walking down the halls of this one felt like my first day at the conservatory.

Fresh. New. Full of promise.

Despite the three month hide-and-seek from myself in Ireland following her funeral, I held hope that working on this album with my friends in a new place could bring me a sense of closure in Rae’s death. She would have been so excited for me. Despite being a student at UNH, with a few semesters left, I’m certain that if she were still alive and Bo presented me with this opportunity, she’d have told me to take it.

She always lit everything with positivity from the inside. Even when she’d spent a few hours one night filling me in on all the Bo and Ember Saga details in the middle of their bizarre breakup, she held on to the floating dandelion seeds of hope.

“They’re meant to be together. I don’t know how long it will take, or what it will take to get there. But ... they’ll get there.” She told me that one night in the sand under the stars. The Big Dipper was right over us, and I remember that because I’d looked up at the black sky and wished the constellation would scoop us up and hold us in that moment forever.

“Woo!”

I’d been wandering down the hallway mentally in the past, but CJ’s cheer summoned me back. He respectfully turned the handle to the studio and let himself in.

Not surprisingly, a few members of the Six were around.

“Hey, Natalie. This is my cousin, CJ.” I spoke to the ethereal blonde who was tightening the skin across the top of a large African drum.

She stood, and while I knew she was probably fifty years old, she looked like she could get away with telling people she was thirty-eight or younger.

“Nice to meet you, CJ. Please, call me Journey.”

CJ shook her hand, biting his lip to surely prevent the insidious laughter I knew was brewing. “Sure thing. Nice to meet you.”

I turned to the other woman in the room. “You’re still Magnolia, right?”

Both women came apart in soft, amused giggles. “Yes,” Magnolia answered. “Please, call me Mags. Don’t worry about Journey. She was just baptized under the seventh sun last week. Not everyone is used to the new name, yet.”

Mags, with short chestnut hair and wide set brown eyes, continued playing with the strings of her mandolin as Journey returned to her drum. CJ slowly turned his head in my direction, stupefied, and mouthed, “Seventh sun?” to me. I shrugged, miming to him to keep quiet.

That was all the reintroduction to Blue Seed studios that I needed. Now, all we needed was the return of Raven and Ashby, who were Ember’s parents, and their friends, Michael and Solstice Shaw.

“Hey there! Nice to see you again.” Sunshine seeped through the room. Not a person with that name, just to clarify, but the feeling that came when Willow Shaw spoke.

She was the daughter of Michael and Solstice, and had been childhood friends with Ember before Ember and her parents moved to Connecticut for Ember to attend high school.