give her a hug. She res umed sobbing in to my shoulder.
“Josh…” she inhaled with that uncomfortable cry-stutter and continued, “ thinks he wants to take a break!”
That was all she could manage before she silenced a wail into my shoulder .
“Jesus, Monica! What the hell? When did this happen? What did he say? I was just there last night…” I ceased my barrage and s at us down in adjoining chairs.
Monica grabbed a tissue off of my desk, sat back, and took a long, slow, breath.
“After you left last night,” her eyes welled with tears as she struggled to continue, “we were cleaning up and he still seemed weird, like when you were there. I followed him to the living room and he plunked in to the chair and just sort of sat there with his head in his hands.” She closed her eyes tight, as if she was trying to wake herself from a dream.
“What’d he say, Mon?” I didn’t want her to replay all the gory details as she sat broken in my office.
“Ember he couldn’t even look me in my eyes! He said that he loves me ‘so much’ but he felt like there was some connection missing. He said that watching you talk about Bo and how you are when you’re with Bo . . . ”
“Me and Bo? He hasn’t spent much time with me and Bo, Mon.”
“I know, Em, and that’s what I told him.”
“And what’d he say?”
“He said that when he talked to Bo last weekend it shook him up.” Apprehension stole her tears.
“He talked to Bo? About us? When?”
“After the second night that he played at Finnegan’s, when they went inside to settle up. Josh asked him to be careful b ecause you’d been hurt before.”
“Again, five years ago. I’m not a wounded lov e-vet, just someone who’s been focused on other things.” Jesus, if Josh spoke about my heartbreak, maybe it was more visible than I thought.
“Anyway, he said that Bo looked at him with complete seriousness and said that when he first sang with you, and looked in to your eyes, it was like he was able to feel everything you’ve ever felt. He said his soul thumped inside of him and it felt like he’d known you and loved you for a thousand lifetimes.” She blinked, sending two tears to stain her cheek.
My mind went completely blank. The reservoir I thought I’d depleted in to my pillow was brimming with fresh tears. A thousand lifetimes? Feeling everything I’ve ever felt by looking in my eyes? I stared at Monica wide-eyed.
“I know, right?” She sensed my lack of words . “A thousand mother-fucking lifetimes this guy has loved you, and you find his ass strumming a guitar in a bar we’ve been going to for four years!” She cried and laughed at the same time. A beautiful mess.
“I . . . what the hell did Josh say to you after that?”
“He said that if that kind of love existed for everyone,” her voice broke the dam of sorrow once more, “he was n’t sure it was with me.”
“Holy shit. What did you say?” I scanned the room for an escape.
“I told him to go. I was pissed, I was crying, I had no coherent response. He kissed me on top of the fucking head , said he loved me, and left. So, I’m left to understand that he loves me, just maybe not a thousand lifetimes worth,” her tone of sorrow shifted to one of anger.
“What a coward.”
“Exactly!” She seemed revived by her anger.
“Um…OK…So I’m going to call David Bryson and see if we can reschedule our meeting until tomorrow. We can close up, go eat ice cream and drink wine for the rest of the day - my place.” I refused to say Bo’s name for a moment.
“No, we’ve got to get this meeting out of the way so we don’t have to think about DROP again until Carrie sends us off to New Hampshire to meet with the whole damn group.” She drew her shoulders back and took a deep breath, like she was about to shoot a free throw.
“OK, Champ, whatever you say. Now, go to the bathroom and freshen up - you look like hell,” I said, forcing a smile as I pointed to the
“Josh…” she inhaled with that uncomfortable cry-stutter and continued, “ thinks he wants to take a break!”
That was all she could manage before she silenced a wail into my shoulder .
“Jesus, Monica! What the hell? When did this happen? What did he say? I was just there last night…” I ceased my barrage and s at us down in adjoining chairs.
Monica grabbed a tissue off of my desk, sat back, and took a long, slow, breath.
“After you left last night,” her eyes welled with tears as she struggled to continue, “we were cleaning up and he still seemed weird, like when you were there. I followed him to the living room and he plunked in to the chair and just sort of sat there with his head in his hands.” She closed her eyes tight, as if she was trying to wake herself from a dream.
“What’d he say, Mon?” I didn’t want her to replay all the gory details as she sat broken in my office.
“Ember he couldn’t even look me in my eyes! He said that he loves me ‘so much’ but he felt like there was some connection missing. He said that watching you talk about Bo and how you are when you’re with Bo . . . ”
“Me and Bo? He hasn’t spent much time with me and Bo, Mon.”
“I know, Em, and that’s what I told him.”
“And what’d he say?”
“He said that when he talked to Bo last weekend it shook him up.” Apprehension stole her tears.
“He talked to Bo? About us? When?”
“After the second night that he played at Finnegan’s, when they went inside to settle up. Josh asked him to be careful b ecause you’d been hurt before.”
“Again, five years ago. I’m not a wounded lov e-vet, just someone who’s been focused on other things.” Jesus, if Josh spoke about my heartbreak, maybe it was more visible than I thought.
“Anyway, he said that Bo looked at him with complete seriousness and said that when he first sang with you, and looked in to your eyes, it was like he was able to feel everything you’ve ever felt. He said his soul thumped inside of him and it felt like he’d known you and loved you for a thousand lifetimes.” She blinked, sending two tears to stain her cheek.
My mind went completely blank. The reservoir I thought I’d depleted in to my pillow was brimming with fresh tears. A thousand lifetimes? Feeling everything I’ve ever felt by looking in my eyes? I stared at Monica wide-eyed.
“I know, right?” She sensed my lack of words . “A thousand mother-fucking lifetimes this guy has loved you, and you find his ass strumming a guitar in a bar we’ve been going to for four years!” She cried and laughed at the same time. A beautiful mess.
“I . . . what the hell did Josh say to you after that?”
“He said that if that kind of love existed for everyone,” her voice broke the dam of sorrow once more, “he was n’t sure it was with me.”
“Holy shit. What did you say?” I scanned the room for an escape.
“I told him to go. I was pissed, I was crying, I had no coherent response. He kissed me on top of the fucking head , said he loved me, and left. So, I’m left to understand that he loves me, just maybe not a thousand lifetimes worth,” her tone of sorrow shifted to one of anger.
“What a coward.”
“Exactly!” She seemed revived by her anger.
“Um…OK…So I’m going to call David Bryson and see if we can reschedule our meeting until tomorrow. We can close up, go eat ice cream and drink wine for the rest of the day - my place.” I refused to say Bo’s name for a moment.
“No, we’ve got to get this meeting out of the way so we don’t have to think about DROP again until Carrie sends us off to New Hampshire to meet with the whole damn group.” She drew her shoulders back and took a deep breath, like she was about to shoot a free throw.
“OK, Champ, whatever you say. Now, go to the bathroom and freshen up - you look like hell,” I said, forcing a smile as I pointed to the
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