If (39 page)

“I can take my work anywhere.”

“Ash, you still need to finish up other things in New York. You’ve only scratched the surface.”

“You’re right,” he said, standing up to take his plate to the sink. “But I’m coming back for you Bird. And if you’ll have me, I’d make a life with you on the fucking moon if I had to. I want to spend the rest of my life making up for those five years I missed. I want to watch you dance all over the world. I want to have children with you. We don’t have to choose between our careers and each other. We can have it all.”

“I know Ash. And I love you so much, but—“

“But I left you and I broke your heart. I know, I know,” he said, regretfully.

I wanted to leap in his arms, I wanted to tell him that I wanted all those things, but I was afraid. We had had moments together before, moments so perfect I thought they would never end, and then they did.

“I’m sorry, Ash. I pulled you into my life and I didn’t think about the obligations you had. I might have set expectations I don’t know if I am ready to jump into.”

“Bird, I understand. But I’m only going back to become a better man for you. I’m not letting you go. You take your time. I’ll be waiting for you. If I have to wait forever, I’ll do it.”

BIRD

Ash left the next day.

I was being smart about us. It always seemed like our relationship bore out of extreme circumstances. Losing my best friend accelerated things again, it made me too open to his love. I couldn’t let him back in so easily, not with the way he had left me the first time.

I boxed up the special project to take to the frame shop. It made me wonder about what else I had of Ash’s. I went back down to the storage area and brought up the other boxes labeled “Ash.”

In one of them was all of the art supplies I had gotten him. In another, there were all the crazy sketches he had left on the floor during his episode. And another was filled with many of the paintings he created during our dance and paint sessions. A few other boxes were other pieces from his roof project. Then there was one lonely piece. It seemed forgotten and neglected, rolled up by a thin rubber band and tucked away in a corner of one of the boxes. I pulled off the rubber band and unraveled it.

Our tree. The one we never got to finish. I stared at it for a while as I sat on the floor of the storage unit.

This tree had waited years to be finished. If there was anything I had learned from Jordan’s passing it is that you don’t let people walk away. You deal with things head first. And you finish the damned tree.

Ash was going to be working through painful issues. And I wasn’t going to keep waiting. I wasn’t going to let him walk away. I was going to hold his hand just like I intended years ago before our relationship ended abruptly. Because I loved Ash. And you don’t let the people you love walk away. You don’t waste another minute, because minutes are precious and they could be snatched away before you ever had a chance to say or do the things you always wanted to do.

I loved him, and I wasn’t going to love in fear. I would love Ash fearlessly.

I sent Ash off to heal himself, just after he spent weeks by my side, giving all of himself, despite his own loss, so that I could begin to heal. But that’s not how I roll. That’s not Birdie Campbell. I go all in. I love hard. I was letting fear and pain dictate how I love. Well, no more.

I rolled the tree back up and prepared myself to go back to the business of loving. Hard.

ASH

I had my first day of Eye Movement Therapy. It was supposed to help reprogram my brain to deal with the PTSD. It sucked to be forced to remember and utter all the things that put me in this state, but I had to work through them. I had to get unstuck from those moments.

Though I hit the ground running on the therapy as soon as I returned, I missed Bird like hell. Nothing felt right without her.

I wanted to be with Bird, but I couldn’t push her. Pushing her would be selfish. I understood how hard it was to love someone like me. I understood she had to decide on her own that she trusted me again.

That evening, I buried myself in painting. I had a new set of pieces I had been toying around with. Normally, the art would flow, but I was stuck. All I could think about was Bird. How complete things felt with her. All of my energy was used resisting the urge to call her and beg her to come out. I had to respect her choices, even if I didn’t like them, but it was draining.

Then my doorbell rang.

“What the . . . ?” I mouthed to myself as I peeped through the peephole.

There was no one there.

I opened the door and peeked my head out.

I saw the azure and teal waves as a voice declared, “There’s something you have to finish, WATT.”

Her footsteps were measured as they neared the nook where my door was. I couldn’t believe my ears or my eyes. She held up a painting, the paper curled along the edges as though it had been rolled up a long time. I recognized the choppy strokes of greens, oranges, pinks, and yellows.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to finish that one.”

“We need to pick up where we finished with my lessons. I still don’t know how to paint one effin’ tree.”

“You were my favorite—and only—student.”

She dropped the painting to the side as I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed her soft lips. Lavender filled my nose. She was the sweetest, and brightest, and most aromatic thing.

I leaned back to take in her olive and gold eyes. “Are you just visiting?” I didn’t want to make assumptions.

She smirked and looked down. “I was thinking after the tree, you could show me how to paint a forest, and then a river. Or maybe I could teach you something. A few routines?”

“We’re going to need a lot of time for that. You’re a terrible painter, and I am a terrible dancer.”

“I know,” she grinned, twining her fingers into mine.

I pulled her in again, savoring her kiss and the surge of hues and flavors that came with it.

She was rare. She was mine. This time, forever.

Her eyes were filled with tears as she kissed me back.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m happy, it’s just—”

“I know the good feelings sometimes bring up the sad ones too.” She missed her best friend, the person who she would run to and tell all about her new plans. I got it, I always thought about how Sarah would have loved Bird.

“Ash, I’ve been asking you to be brave and face your fears. And I have to do the same. I’ve been scared about how I feel about you. I’ve been scared to love you, but I do. I did. I always will.”

“Bird, I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

“No. No more living in the past. No more regrets. Let’s love each other now. Let’s paint and listen to music and dance and . . .” she smirked.

“
Fuck?
” I whispered in her ear.

“Mmmhmm,” she grinned mischievously. Then she mouthed the word back to me with her full, pink lips.

“Let’s do all those things, in no particular order,” I said, pulling the painting from her hand.

We spent the night finishing that tree and it was the best tree, full of oranges, greens, pinks, yellows, purples, blues, golds and reds.

But that tree was only the beginning.

We were going to be building a lot more together.

BIRD

“
I NOW PRESENT
to you, the Sarah and Jordan Center!” Trevor said as he cut the ribbon.

Trevor, Ash and I decided that this would be one of the best ways to keep Sarah and Jordan’s memories alive and help us deal with their loss. It would be a place for at-risk youth to have access to dance, art, and other activities, get a warm meal, and also have a specialist on staff to help kids who needed someone to talk to.

Trevor’s next big plan, with our help, was to establish a free mental health clinic in their names.

Applause erupted and the building filled with members of the community and we spent the afternoon mingling with parents, kids and local leaders and also talking to press.

Though the day’s events were exciting, I had been tired lately and was almost a little too thrilled to be back on our couch resting. “It’s nice to be back in LA,” I said. I had just completed a year in Vegas at the new Danse show. Ash had divided his time between New York City and Vegas during my run. In that time, he had made huge strides in his therapy. His claustrophobia was nearly gone, his nightmares had lessened to almost none, and the mood swings that his medicine could not entirely reach were under control. We would always have to monitor his bipolar disorder, but now we were armed better than ever to do so.

Oh, and we did the cliché thing and got married in Vegas. Because we decided waiting was for dummies. We wouldn’t waste time. So we had our families come out and we got married right in the desert.

A lot can happen in a year and a half.

“Tired?” Ash asked.

“Mmmhmm.”

“How’s Tiny Dancer?”

I rubbed my little bump.

“You mean Baby WATT?” I replied.

“Can you imagine if this little thing got both talents?” he asked.

“That’d be something else . . . Oh no, what do we do if it has two left feet and can barely draw a stick figure?”

“We put it back in,” Ash said.

“Oh, you artists are so dramatic.”

“That’s why you love me.” Ash placed a kiss on my temple.

“You’re right,” I said, admiring the image of Jordan and me dancing on the other side of our living room.

ASH

She was rare, with her bright red wisps of hair and her vivid green eyes. A translucent pink hue swathed her. Her cries were like a sunburst of color, as beautiful as her mother’s laugh.

Aura Sarah Thoreau.

Of all the things I had created, she was my most beautiful masterpiece. Because my muse had an equal hand in her creation.

I now had two people I would do anything for. Two people to push me to be better.

They were my world, and I was theirs.

My life had meaning and value.

It took some time to find my place in the world, but I finally found it. It was wherever Bird and Aura were.

They were my place. They were my reason.