“Oh my God!” they gushed as he walked in with several other people. When the security guards motioned that they could go up and get their picture taken, they rushed up to the singer. J. King was older than I expected. I thought he might be a teenager, but he looked to be about my age. He wore ripped jeans and a tight-fitting cotton shirt under a black jacket. A pair of sunglasses hung from the collar of his shirt and he wore a pair of black combat boots that matched his jet-black hair. After Mandy and April had their pictures taken, body parts signed and posters autographed, the rest of our group went up to meet the singer. Ross and I were last in line.
“Ross? Ross Powers?” J. King said as we approached him.
“Hey, man,” Ross said, holding his hand out to shake the singer’s hand.
Instead, J. King got up and wrapped Ross in a hug. “How the hell are you?” J. King asked, clearly shocked by running into Ross.
“Things are good.”
“I heard about your mom and I’m so sorry.”
“No problem,” Ross said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Jane? Do you know who this is?” J. King called to a woman who was standing off to the side. She shook her head and looked as confused as the rest of us.
“This guy wrote ‘When She’s Gone’ on my last album,” he gushed.
I could hear the group whisper behind me. This was quite the exciting trip for them.
“Who is this with you? Your girlfriend?” J. King said, pointing to me. Ross started to correct the singer.
“Jill,” I said, interrupting Ross by sticking my hand out to shake J. King’s hand. Instead, he wrapped me up in a hug as well.
“She’s a cutie,” J. King said, looking at Ross.
I could feel my face go red with embarrassment. I excused myself and made my way over to the group as Ross and J. King spoke quietly in the corner. After about 20 minutes, Jane walked over and whispered something to the singer. He hugged Ross one more time, waved to us and excused himself. One of the security guards escorted us to the front-row seats that J. King insisted we sit in for the show.
As soon as we were seated, Mandy and April jumped all over Ross with a million questions about his connection to the singer.
“I wrote that song maybe two years ago. No big deal,” he said, shrugging it off.
After several minutes, they realized Ross wasn’t going to say anything more on the subject and they turned their attention to the opening band that was taking the stage.
“So, girlfriend?” I said, turning to look at Ross and interrupting his thoughts.
“So sorry about that,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
“No. It’s okay. I have been called much worse today,” I said shyly and Ross casually slipped his hand next to mine until our fingers were intertwined.
“Ross Powers?” a voice asked.
“Yea, that’s me,” Ross replied.
As we turned to look, Jane from the tent casually strode toward us. “J. King has asked that you join him onstage tonight. His guitarist just got sick back stage and we don’t usually travel with a backup.”
“I don’t know …,” Ross started to say.
I squeezed his hand and gave him a slight nod. He looked up at me and we stared at each other for several beats as if we could read each other thoughts.
“Alright, yea, I would love to play,” he said.
“Great! If you could follow me,” she said, obviously relieved to find a replacement guitarist for the band.
“Give me one minute.”
“Of course,” she said, stepping to the side.
“Are you sure? Will you be okay by yourself?” he asked, looking at me.
“I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. I’ll be with your friends.”
“That’s what I am afraid of.” He laughed.
“I will be fine. You go. Don’t worry about me.”
“You amaze me,” he said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. He waved to his friends, who, as soon as he had left to make his way backstage, rushed over. All of us jumped up and down and squealed with excitement.
CHAPTER 31
W
e waited for about an hour before the lights dimmed and the announcer told the crowd to stand and welcome J. King and the Foray Band to the stage. J. King came onto the stage dressed as we had seen him earlier and immediately began singing. I scanned the stage for Ross and saw him standing between the drummer and several backup singers. He had somehow changed and was now wearing ripped jeans and a tighter black cotton shirt that had “J. King” printed on it in white. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. J. King danced and sang several more songs and I found myself drawn to Ross the entire time, the way he moved, how he played, even as he sang along with the backup singers. J. King had been on for about an hour and half before he paused and spoke to the audience.
“How you doing, North Carolina?” he asked the crowd who yelled back.
“I wanted to let you know that you are all in for a special treat tonight. My good friend Ross Powers has joined me onstage tonight.” He pointed to Ross, who waved from his spot onstage as the audience yelled and applauded.
“He was a good sport tonight, sitting in for Jerry, who normally plays the guitar but got sick at the last minute. Ross is extremely talented and he’s going to sing the next song,” he said to the hushed crowd.
“Ross, come up here.” He motioned for Ross to join him. Ross casually walked to center stage as if he had done it a thousand times and embraced J. King, who handed him the microphone and then sat down on a stool by the backup singers.
“What’s up, North Carolina? How are we doing tonight?” Ross asked the crowd who cheered.
“This next song is a song I wrote recently after meeting someone new in my life,” he said, looking down into the audience until his eyes locked with mine. “You should always have hope,” he said as he began to play. For the next three minutes I stood rooted to my spot in the audience, unable to breath. I felt like the only one in the entire park. He finished up his song, glancing in my direction one more time before he was done. J. King walked back to center stage and hugged Ross as the audience went wild. Remembering where I was, I joined April and Mandy who were jumping like crazy, yelling and screaming. J. King finished up two more songs before thanking the audience and disappearing from the stage.
The lights came on and people started leaving the concert area. Jane appeared from the side of the stage and motioned for us to follow her backstage. Obediently, we followed her to yet another tent that we had not been in before. This one looked more like a hangout area for the band and singer himself. Sofas were arranged in the center with chairs, and several musical instruments were lying about. As we entered the tent, Ross, J. King and several other band members were already standing there. April and Mandy and the guys rushed past me to congratulate Ross and talk with J. King again. I stood back taking in the whole scene. Ross was truly a musician who should be touring the world. I smiled and shook my head at the strange curves life throws at you.
“Jill.”
I heard Ross call my name as he waved me forward. I walked toward him, trying to tell him how much I loved his song. Instead, he stepped forward and put both hands on either side of my face. Looking me eyes, he leaned in and kissed me.
“I meant every word,” he whispered to me afterward and embraced me. It was as if the scene in the tent didn’t exist for that moment.
“I know,” I whispered back, looking into his eyes.
“Come. Let’s celebrate,” he said, taking my hand and leading me back to the group who were all celebrating, mingling and chatting.
It was well after three in the morning when Ross pulled up outside my house.
“What a crazy unexpected day,” I mused out loud and Ross looked at me and nodded, obviously lost in his own thoughts as well.
“Jill, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Me? What did I do?” I was confused.
“If it wasn’t for you getting those tickets to the concert, I would have never had the chance to reconnect with J. King,” he said.
“The card opens doors for you.” I could hear Stella’s words in my head.
“It was kismet,” I finally said, getting out of the Jeep. Ross walked around the Jeep and grabbed my hand and walked me to the front door. He leaned down and kissed me again when we reached the door.
“Good night, Jill,” he said and turned to leave.
“Ross?” I said, tugging at his hand. I wasn’t ready to let go. “Do you want to stay?” I asked shyly.
He stopped and turned to look at me, his eyes searching mine until he saw something that convinced him of something.
“I would like that,” he said and followed me in.
I walked around the house and turned on a couple of lights per my nightly ritual. Ross watched.
“Don’t judge,” I said, feeling defensive.
“No judgment here,” he said, raising his arms in self-defense.
We climbed the stairs to the bedroom and I headed into the bathroom to change. When I emerged from the bathroom, Ross was lying on top of the blankets on Jay’s side of the bed. I stood and took everything in. My past and present were colliding in ways I never thought possible.
“Come,” Ross said, patting my side of the bed, and then he held the blankets up so I could slide in under the covers.
“I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to take in,” I said, trying to keep my emotions in check.
“We are just sleeping,” he said, reading my emotions, and I nodded, climbing under the blanket and snuggling up to his chest.
“May I?” he asked, pointing toward the bedside light. I nodded and he leaned over and turned the bedside light off. He rubbed my back slowly as I listened to his heart beat and the slow rise and fall of his chest as it lulled me off to sleep.
The sun filled the room completely when I opened my eyes the next morning. Sometime in the middle of the night we had shifted, and I was now on my side and Ross was curled around me sound asleep. I smiled to myself and slowly eased myself out of bed, trying not to wake him. I saw that it was a little past nine in the morning. What a crazy 24 hours it had been. I grabbed some running clothes out of the drawer, wrote a quick note, leaned it against the clock in the bedroom and then made my way downstairs. I put on my running shoes and headed out for the beach. The steady and methodical movement made it easier for me to organize my thoughts. It was almost an hour later when I climbed the back steps to the porch and made my way into the house.
“How was the morning run?” Ross asked, startling me when I entered the house.
“Slow.” I leaned against the counter, looking at him.
He was seated at the kitchen table with a large cup of coffee in front of him. His blonde hair was sticking up in random places. “Are you checking out my bed head?” he asked, catching me staring at him and I giggled. He got up and made his way toward me at the counter, pinning me before kissing me.
“Good morning to you too,” I said between kisses.
“Fantastic morning,” he mumbled before backing up and looking at me.
“I really need to shower,” I said, remembering my run.
“I need to go home and change anyway.”
“Do you work today?” I asked. I had long given up trying to keep up what day of the week it was. Without a steady job, it seemed impossible to keep dates straight.
“Nope. Took the day off. I was hoping to spend the day with you.”
“I like the sound of that.” I kissed him on the cheek and headed toward the stairs.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so … with lunch,” he said, looking at the clock on the wall.
“Sounds perfect,” I called as I headed upstairs.
“It was the most amazing time,” I gushed to Stella and Lanie after I had showered and dressed.
“Sounds like something out of a movie,” Lanie commented.
“Is it serious?” Stella asked.
“I don’t know, but I do really like him and I think he really likes me too.”
“I’m happy for you,” Lanie said again.
“It’s okay, right?” I asked.
“What’s okay?” Stella asked.
“It’s okay I’m starting to see someone else, right? I’m just having a hard time allowing myself to be happy. I feel like after what happened with Jay I should maybe still be mourning.”
“Jill, everyone processes death differently. There is no set time to mourn anyone and he will always be a part of your life on this earth, but you now have to follow your heart, again,” Lanie said, repeating some of the same advice Stella had already told me earlier.
“I can tell you’ve been back at work.” I chided Lanie, and Stella laughed.
“Funny,” Lanie said.
I heard a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I called.
“Is he there?” Stella asked as Ross strolled in, wearing board shorts, a white cotton tee and a pair of black wayfarer sunglasses. He was carrying two, large, brown paper bags.
“Yup,” I said, waving Ross in.
He nodded in my direction and headed for the kitchen.
“I can’t wait to meet him in a couple weeks,” Lanie commented. “I can’t believe the summer is coming to an end,” I said.
“Believe it, sister,” Stella said. “I could really use a vacation. Roger got back from his and won’t leave me alone. He has already sent me like three or four bouquets of flowers and chocolate truffles—you know, the one’s I like from the Sweet Shoppe near where I work.”
“Sounds awful,” Lanie said.
“Well, I have to go. I will talk to you both in a couple days,” I said and hung up.
I wandered into the kitchen and watched Ross prepare lunch from the food he had brought.
“Hey there,” I said, wrapping my arms around him from behind.
“Hey,” he said, softly turning around to face me.
“Stella and Lanie?” he guessed.
“Yup,” I said. “Can I help you with anything?”
“Nope. I’m almost done anyway. Most of it came prepared,” he said, pointing to the bags. I looked closely and saw that they were imprinted with the name of a local deli that I recognized. We sat down at the kitchen table and talked about the previous night as we ate our lunch. Ross shared his excitement over performing again and being onstage. He tried to explain to me how it felt to perform in front of a large audience. He then talked about his decision to leave the music industry after his mom had passed and how lifeless he had felt. I nodded in sympathy as I tried to clear the table, knocking over my drink and spilling it all over my lap.