Rudd makes a measurement with his thumb and forefinger. Squinting, he says, “Five?”
A round of chuckles ensue at this nonsense remark.
“What was Hollister shouting about back there?” Rudd asks, tipping his head to the side so Landry will scratch a different area. She obliges.
“Threat Alert broke up. Albie’s developed a bad coke habit. They’re shipping him off to a treatment center. With us gone and them broken up, Hollister doesn’t have a tour anymore.”
“Poor Holly,” Rudd says in a sing-song voice.
“He’ll be alright,” Landry soothes. “Guys like him always land on their feet.”
Isn’t that the truth.
“When we get home, can I meet May,” Rudd asks. “She sounds fun.”
“Eating snakes is fun?” I ask. Landry has been telling Rudd tales of her friend’s adventures to entertain him and now Rudd has a full-blown crush on this mystery woman.
“Yeah. And all those weeks riding ponies. Her thighs must be strong enough to crush steel.” He tries to waggle his eyebrows but fails miserably. He groans. “Give me another dose.”
“Not yet, sweetheart.”
Davis holds up a finger. “I’ve an idea. Be right back. Don’t move.”
“We’re on the bus, Davis. We can’t move,” I say.
“Technically, we’re in motion because the bus is,” Landry chirps.
God, I love her. I push away from the door. “Technically, I’m going to kiss—”
“Not in front of the brother,” Davis yells from down the hall.
Rudd taps Landry’s hand.
“Yes?” she says, peering down at him.
“You can kiss me. Davis said so.”
I burst out laughing. Rudd starts chuckling, too, but cuts himself off immediately.
“Oh, that hurts,” he says.
Davis soon reappears with two guitars—his and mine.
“Let’s play my song. I have an idea for the harmonies.”
I take my guitar and fit the drum against my stomach. “Lead the way.”
Davis perches on the side of the bed and starts strumming. I catch on immediately, and soon, we’re finding music magic.
Over Davis’s shoulder, I meet Landry’s eyes. They’re full of love and in them I see all the songs I have yet to write, the ones about our joys, our inevitable sorrows—but most importantly, the ones where we’re together.
Epilogue
Landry
Six Months Later
An hour out from the J’s Truck Plaza where we gassed up and stretched our legs, Ed pulls the bus over to the side of the road.