Part 4 of 5
Since it wasn’t raining when she left for the show, she left the windbreaker in the hotel room. Naturally, this only encouraged the heavens to open up and begin pouring by the time she pulled into the parking lot, stepped out of the car, and began sprinting and hurdling puddles in a manner that would’ve shocked any of her gym teachers over the years. One puddle was too wide to leap in a single bound, and she felt the water seeping into her shoe immediately.
She came into the building looking like a drowned rat, but not much worse than the rest of the gang already assembled there who were also moist. She sneaked up behind them, put her hands on his best friend’s shoulder and on that of the best friend’s wife and said “Nice weather we’re having,” by way of announcing her presence. There were hugs all around, all of them wearing the t-shirt with his face on it except her; she’d not received hers yet. The picture was one that had originally included her; his sister said “I had to crop you out of it—nothing personal!” Gosh no, nothing personal, if perfectly symbolic. She understood perfectly, and would have without it being pointed out; it didn’t need to be said.
All seemed shocked and surprised that she’d gone to Big Basin that day. Both best friends said “We would’ve gone with you.” She assured them it was fine, and it was enough that they’d offered. She did not say that it seemed clear that she was meant to do it alone, or she would’ve been there in the first place. His sister, who announced her empty-handedness regarding the items they’d discussed, did give to her two acorns from the site at Big Basin. Whether his sister had picked them up with her in mind that day, or thought of it later and decided to offer what she’d picked up for herself, the woman was touched that she’d been thought of at all, and that someone had considered that she would’ve wanted to be a part of it somehow. It was a small gesture, fraught with meaning. Indeed, these gestures often matter the most.
When the lights flickered, the ten of them took their seats, the woman and the sister sitting side by side as the only two non-coupled persons in the gang that evening. The woman laughed inside that she at least got a date from within the proper family, and the two of them talked comfortably, as they had the last time.
All were amazed by the show, and the spectacle of two virtuosi loving their instruments. All commented on how much he would’ve enjoyed it. Whatever the others thought or imagined, one, she, was certain he was there.
As the aging guitarist brought his young bride to the stage to sing while he played, she thought once again how much she hoped that this May-December romance never saw a July like she did. In the safety of darkness, the tears rolled down her cheeks, but the sniffling had no camouflage.
After the show, they milled in the lobby awhile and talked. The guitar god was signing autographs, but she would have other chances for that; it was his friends and family that had her attention, for one never knows when one is living through a last time. This she has learned the hardest way.
His other best friend asked her if she’d consider coming back in May for a big show he and her sweetie had attended together last year. She said she’d think about it. She heard the news about children she’s half-jokingly referred to as her grandkids, (but never to them), and found out that his daughter had received the picture she left behind during the last visit, and displayed it in her home. She offered her condolences for other losses that had happened since they last met; it was a rough year. They asked a stranger to take their picture, everyone in their shirts, all of them together, and yet separate somehow. She could see they were winding down; they had an hour’s drive home and it was time to go. Another round of hugs and goodbyes at the cars, and once again she went back to a hotel room alone while they went home talking amongst friends. She consoled herself with a bottle of chocolate milk picked up from the 24-hour convenience store on the next block and scribbled to him in her journal until sleep forcibly took her over.