Five Years of Fame [COMPLETE]

22. Gage Meets Dani

Spring, Year 3, Month 5

Her house was clean. Spotless, even. And it was making Reeve nervous. She was already nervous, pacing around her living room, making manic figure-eights in her carpet, her socked feet slipping slightly over the small part of the hardwood floor that factored into her track.

Dani had apparently learned to be neat while in college. Her reasoning had been that there were enough messy college students all living together, the best she could do for her own sanity was to make sure her own space was neat.

Not that Dani was living with Reeve. Not officially, at least. But she spent enough time there that their coinciding orderly habits had synced up and now Reeve had nothing to do but pace.

A dirty dish would have been most welcome at that point. A dusty fireplace mantle. For goodness sake, even a picture frame just slightly off-kilter. But no. Reeve's big beautiful home was spotless. And completely empty.

The silence was the second thing she noticed during her paces after the lack of dirt or disorder. Her footsteps were the only sounds that wafted up towards the high ceiling above. Vague city noises did their best to help create an idea of life happening around her but her street remained markedly quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. Until one car made its way down the avenue, stopping in front of her doorstep.

Reeve's ears had perked up at the sound of movement, life, outside. Her feet froze in their repeated trek when the wheels did. Her ears straying to pick up anything, Reeve could just barely hear one car door open, then another, and then what sounded like polite chitchat before both doors closed and the car drove off.

Reeve counted the seconds until the doorbell rang. She got to eleven when the chime echoed through the house.

Reeve forced her feet to walk, move, head forward. There was someone standing at her door. She had to open it to let them in.

Reeve gripped the large brass door handle, unlocking the deadbolt and yanked open the door, it's ancient hinges sticking and then breaking free to let in a gust of brisk late spring air.

"Hi."

"Hey."

They were staring at each other and Reeve had a sneaking suspicion it was her fault. She was the host. This was her house. She had asked him to fly all the way across the country just for a meeting. The least she could do was let in.

"It's been a while."

Reeve nodded.

"Come on in."

With a deep breath from both of them, Reeve stood aside and Gage walked in.

His hair was longer. That was the first thing Reeve had noticed. He had just decided to stop cutting it when she had met him so many years ago and it was constantly in his face by the time they parted ways, just long enough to be annoying, too short to do anything about it.

His face was thinner, somehow. He was tall and lanky as ever, shoulders slightly drooped from years and years of guitar playing but his face had lost that last essence of boyhood. His cheekbones now stood up at sharp angles. But maybe it was just the long hair.

Gage followed Reeve into the house. She tried out polite conversation, showing him where he could put his bag and guitar case down, making an offer to show him the guest room and then an offer of food or drink when the first was declined.

Gage accepted the offer of substance and followed Reeve further into the house. He took a seat on one of her bar-stools, sitting down only half-way, right in between comfortable and standing. Water would be just fine and with that provided there stood between them now a marble-topped counter and years of silence.