Winter, Year 4, Month 2
It was a trip Reeve had to take alone. She knew that the second she realized she had to go. It had to be alone. It was still dark out when she left her house. Dani was still asleep, letting out small whiffling snores that passed under her door and floated out into the hallway as Reeve tiptoed past.
She waved to Kelly where she was already dressed, drinking a cup of coffee and talking to someone on the phone, seated at her desk. Kelly nodded goodbye as Reeve slipped past.
She even drove herself to the airport. It was a small commuter airport on the outskirts of the city but still, it was a first for Reeve. There was no one there to see her off.
Kelly had found her a commuter flight that flew from Boston to Ashville, North Carolina, twice a day, as some big paper supply company had a flagship warehouse in both cities. Reeve was the only person out of the twelve passengers not in a business suit. She didn't need to worry about being recognized among her fellow travelers as most of them never looked up from their phones or laptops, their commute counting as working hours.
A black SUV was waiting for Reeve when she landed and her driver nodded a good morning as he held the door open for her. Reeve was traveling light. She had only her bag to hold the precious cargo and she had kept it tight to her chest the whole flight and even when seated in the car as they pulled away from the airport.
They drove towards the mountains. The dirty snow Reeve had left behind was clean and bright white, shining even underneath a sky of silver clouds, threatening more snow. The snow piles along the road rose as they ascended the mountain. They found civilization again passing through a two-block long downtown filled with people in hiking boots and beanies, most men with beards and all with cups of coffee in their hands. Watching the people as they passed by, Reeve saw Wes in every one of them, the same pea coats, the same stylish haircuts.
They left the town behind as they kept moving up the mountain, finally reaching their destination forty-five minutes out of town. Wes was standing outside, with a cup of coffee, waiting for them. He approached as Reeve climbed out of the car and said a "See you later" to the driver.
"Hey, kid. Been a while."
Reeve accepted his one-armed hug and breathed in his scent of fresh air and pine trees.
"You've got a beard."
The scruff on Wes's chin tickled Reeve's cheek as she pulled away from his embrace. Wes raised a hand as if to make sure the hair was still there.
"Yeah. I do. Been working on it. It's good to see you, Liv. It's been too long."
Reeve took a long deep breath of fresh mountain air, nodding in agreement to his statement. Wes's hand lay heavy on her shoulder. She forced herself to meet his eye as he inspected the changes he could read in her face as if in that one long stare he was caught up on everything that had happened since they had last seen each other.
Reeve saw the changes every time she looked in the mirror. The last time Wes had seen her, she hadn't realized just how tough life could get when it wanted to. She was sure every sleepless night was written on her face.
Wes broke eye contact by moving towards the house, motioning her to follow.
"Come on in. Reagan and the kids can't wait to see you."
Wes held the large wooden front door open as Reeve stepped out of the cold winter air and stepped into the biggest wood cabin she had ever seen. Wes called out from behind her as he closed the door, "Look who's here!"
Reagan appeared from the kitchen at the far end of what was surely their family room, passing a large fireplace burning fierce in the middle of the room.
Reagan didn't say a word in greeting. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Reeve and pulled her in tight. Once let free, Reeve stood there as Reagan gave her once over, her eyes as penetrating as Wes's as they took in every detail.
"It's good to see you," She finally said, just as two kids came racing toward the front door. "Kids, come say hi to Aunt Olivia. Cleo, you remember her, don't you?"
"Hi, Cleo. It's nice to see you again."
Reeve didn't have to stoop so low as she had to the last time she had seen Wes's daughter. She had grown tall in the last two years and was now taller than Reeve was when she crouched to the ground.
"And you've met Kit. Kitteridge, come say hello to your Aunt Olivia."
Wes's mini-me was hiding behind his mother's legs, trying hard not to suck his thumb.
"Hi, Kit. You probably don't remember me. I'm Aunt Olivia. It's nice to meet you."
Reeve extended her hand out to the little boy and he slowly moved forward, giving it a quick literal shake before returning to his hiding place.
"He's gotten so big. He was barely walking the last time I saw him."
"Daddy, can I show Aunt Olivia my room?"
Cleo had finished sizing Reeve up and seemed to remember something of their old friendship. She stepped forward to grab Reeve's hand, already pulling her upstairs.
"Maybe later, sweet cakes. Aunt Olivia's here to get my help on something so we're gonna go work on that first, okay? Maybe after lunch, before nap-time. How about that?"
"Okay."
Pleased with the arrangement, Cleo raced back to the kitchen, taking up a spot along the long wooden table that stood on the other side of the fireplace.
"We were in the middle of a lesson. You two have fun. Come along, Kit. It's time for your reading hour."
Reeve watched Reagan return to the kitchen, leading Kit by the hand, and realized that the papers and books covering the table were textbooks and writing assignments. Reagan had already seemed like a supermom but now she was homeschooling her kids, too.
"Come on. Let me show you the studio."
Wes led her out of the main part of the house, past a library and game room, the house made up of windows that let in the soft light the snow reflected in. Everywhere there were walls of exposed stone and hardwood floors, somehow the chill kept at bay, the house radiating warmth. Reeve kept an eye out to see if she could spot a moose head mounted somewhere.
Wes led her through a passageway made of windows on either side that dumped them out at the garage. A stairwell at the back of the large cavernous space led them up to the loft making up the second story of the garage. Here was the studio.
Reeve's heart sighed at the familiar smell of sound-proofing foam and guitars. Wes took a seat in one of the two swivel chairs in the room and nodded for Reeve to take the other. She still had her bag clutched tight to her and Wes hadn't made any gesture to take it from her until she was settled.
"Is that it?"
Wes nodded to where the bag now sat on her lap. Reeve nodded. He leaned forward and extended a hand. Reeve didn't have to dig very long to find what she was looking for. Other than her wallet and a stray chap-stick, it was the only other thing in the bag.
She pulled out her old iPod. She had gotten it the Christmas of her freshman year. All her old songs and playlists had been removed. Now there were only eighteen songs on it. Her eighteen songs. The eighteen songs she was planning on putting on her final album.
Reeve handed Wes the iPod.
"How many are there?"
"Eighteen."
Wes let out a whistle.
"That's ambitious. I like it. Alright. I'll take a listen. But I can't have you in here staring at me while I do. Go keep Reagan company. I know she's dying to catch up with you. Tell her I'll be down in time for lunch."
Reeve left him to it, forcing herself to leave her worries and apprehensions behind her in the studio. She focused on catching up with her friend and getting to know the kids all over again.
Reagan welcomed her with enthusiasm to their schoolroom table. Her constant stream of questions was interrupted every few minutes to correct something on Cleo's paper or help Kit find a new color for his drawing.
Reeve found herself telling Reagan everything. In an hour, the close friendship they had developed while on tour together came rushing back as if it had never left as if no time had elapsed.
And Reagan wanted to know everything. About life back in Boston. Noah. Her family. She even remembered Dani and asked about her.
Reeve worked hard to keep the flow of questions both ways, curious as to how Reagan was settling into a normal life, the band on an extended break for the first time in their whole career.
Even among her exclamations of peace and stability, Reeve could hear hints of restlessness. Wes and Reagan had spent the first ten years of their marriage on the road. Normal life was an adjustment.
But always Reagan turned big loving eyes onto her two kids and made sure Reeve understood how much she loved her life and being a mom and that she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Reeve was about to ask if they had plans for heading back on the road anytime soon when Reagan caught sight of the time and ordered school over so she could start making lunch. Reeve helped Cleo pack away her school supplies and once the table was set, followed her upstairs to check out her room. Kit followed them a few feet behind and stood at the doorway as Cleo showed Reeve her bed and her stuffed animals and all the books she was reading. Kit ran to his room when Reeve asked to see his and burst forth into endless little kid chatter about every type of toy car he had, all his trucks, his favorite nightlight, where his daddy had gotten him the tiger he went to sleep with every night.
Reeve understood his main points, his excitement slurring his words so she could only catch every third word. They led Reeve downstairs when Reagan called for lunchtime and begged their mom to let Reeve sit in between them at lunch.
Reeve only met Wes's eye when they were all seated around the table and he told everyone to bow their heads so they could pray.
The kids kept up a constant flow of conversation, making sure to tell Aunt Olivia about every detail of their lives. It helped Reeve keep from overthinking about what Wes's reaction to the music might have been.
Lunch came to an end and nap-time was declared after dishes had been cleared. Cleo ran upstairs without a fight but Kit was half-asleep, fighting against it, claiming he wasn't tired through half-closed eyes. Wes followed Reagan upstairs with Kit slung over his shoulder, muttering something about five minutes to Reeve as they ascended.
That left Reeve alone in their family room. While the ceiling rose high overhead, with the second story overlooking, the house felt like a home to Reeve, despite its size. There were kids' toys scattered throughout, peaking out of bins bought to try and keep things organized.
Reeve's eyes wandered all around, taking in the space Wes had made a home for his family, trying to think about what her own would look like.
She paused to look at each of the photos that cluttered up the mantle, the large fireplace setting it almost at eye level.
Reeve stopped at the sight of a familiar picture. It was of Cleo. Reagan was holding her. She was a lot younger. If Reeve hadn't been there the night it was taken, she still would have known it was at a Faded Relics concert.
Cleo had large noise-canceling headphones on to protect her ears and was reaching towards her dad onstage, pulling out of Reagan's arms, even from where they stood in the sound booth on the other side of the arena.
She was lit up on one side by the lights and there was just enough of Reagan seen that it was easy to tell that she was smiling at her daughter.
Dani had taken the photo. It was the opening night of the Faded Relics tour Reeve traveled on and Dani was seated with the rest of the band's family. Dani had shown Reeve the photo later that night and Reeve begged her to let her send it to Reagan. She had never known where it had gone from there and here it was on their mantle.
Reeve was on the mantle two more times. Once, standing in the background, trying not to cry, as Wes, Wylie, and Caleb were crowded around a microphone, a golden record player between the three of them. And once more, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the stage, with Cleo sitting on her lap, the rest of the crew all standing or sitting in neat rows for a formal class photo. Reeve wasn't even looking at the camera. She was smiling down at Cleo, who was trying to tell her something.
Wes finally reappeared down at the base of the stairs.
"They're all asleep. Even Reagan. This third pregnancy is tougher than the other two have been."
Reeve froze in her movement to meet him. Wes froze when he realized what he had just said.
"What? Reagan's pregnant? Congratulations!"
Wes smiled a smile that showed her simultaneously the toll and the reward is meant to be a dad.
"Thanks, kid. It's still early days so don't tell anyone. Reagan wanted to tell you herself so act surprised when she does. And act surprised when she asks you to be the godmother."
"What?!"
"Just like that! Perfect!"
It took their mood a moment to settle into sobriety after Wes explained that Wylie and Faye were already Cleo's godparents and that Caleb and Quinn were Kit's. There was mention of one of Reagan's sisters but they all had kids of their own and Reagan wanted to make Reeve a part of the family, officially.
Reeve nodded and stared at the ground, trying to keep the tears from rolling down her face. She took in a deep breath and found a part of her that could focus on work. That was what she was here for. It wasn't just a social call.
"So."
Wes's one word shifted the mood into seriousness. Reeve sat back in her chair and met his gaze.
"So."
"I have a few questions before I give you any feedback."
Wes held the iPod in his hands and passed it back and forth.
"Okay."
"What exactly are you looking for, having me hear it? What kind of critique or notes do you want? Basically, how honest do you want me to be?"
"Completely."
Wes's eyebrows shot up.
"I have an incredible team. And I am extremely grateful to each of them. They have walked me through the toughest time of my life. The thing is..."
Wes finished the thought for her when Reeve took a minute to try and put her feelings into words.
"They've seen you at your worst."
"Exactly. They were excited that I was writing again. It didn't matter that it was crap. All that mattered was that I was writing."
"So you want an outsider's opinion."
"I need someone I could trust to listen to this album and tell me the truth. You haven't seen me at my worst. You hold me to a high standard. I trust you. And your opinion."
Wes took a deep breath and stared at her for a long moment.
"It's good. It's really good. I would have to say you're best so far."
Reeve let out a long breath of relief as Wes kept going.
"I know that your last two albums were all songs you wrote when you were young. I get that. But there's a maturity on this album that it took grit and experience to write. You've grown up. So has your writing. And you can hear it through the whole album. I can even tell that you've found your faith again, which is exciting. Just two things..."
Reeve waited with bated breath.
"It's called Afterlife, correct?"
Reeve nodded.
"So you're writing about coming back to life. The album's too long. You overwrote. Which is great. It's easier to cut than fill holes."
"The second thing?"
"It ties in with the first thing. Actually, it's your solution. When you go to cut, cut the sad songs first. You've written a funeral with this album but I think you want it to be a celebration of life."
Reeve sat, motionless, barely breathing, letting his words sink in. He sat back and let her have her moment. She was breathing again when he finally spoke.
"This is your last, isn't it?"
Reeve looked down at her hands, ashamed to admit defeat in front of one of the greatest living musicians, someone who had figured out the system, who had a beautiful family and a normal life waiting for him when he walked off stage.
"Yes. It is."
"I figured. You're not cut out for this life, kid. You're too good. Too decent. You believe the best in people and this job can suck the life out of you if you're not careful."
"How did you know?"
"It's all over the album. 'All I Ask' is a farewell letter to your fans. And the title? Afterlife? You're looking for the life that'll start after this is all over. They'll know. As soon as you release this, they'll know."
"I want them to. I want to say goodbye and I want to do it the right way."
"They deserve to see you off."
Wes leaned forward and gave Reeve the iPod back. A glance at the clock on the wall told her that her driver would be returning soon, in time to drive her back to the airport in time to catch that commuter flight home.
"This guy, your guy, what's his name?"
Reeve felt her cheeks redden.
"Noah."
"Is he a good guy?"
Reeve nodded.
"The best."
"What's so special about him? I mean, he must be something if you wrote almost a whole album about him."
"He's just... normal. He's the first normal person I've met since all this happened that treated me like I was normal, too."
"I'd like to meet him before you two tie the knot. Get to know him before I give my blessing."
Reeve laughed and felt a wave of relief crash over her as she held tight to her album in her hand.
"Is he it?"
Without hesitation, Reeve nodded.
"Yeah. He is."
"So he's your afterlife."
Suddenly Reeve could see her own version of Wes's life. The kids, the big kitchen, the mantle full of photos. And Noah. Her and Noah figuring out what their version of normal looked like.
"Yes. Yes, he is."