JC drops down onto his bunk with a sigh. He wishes he could just close his eyes and take a nap, but he has to call his parents. They’ve called three times in the last few days but he’s always been busy and they’ve been playing phone tag ever since. And now, since sound check just finished and he has a few minutes of free time before the show tonight he figures he might as well try to reach them. After flipping open his cell phone, he dials with his thumb as he pulls his bunk curtain closed and waits until a familiar voice answers.

“Hey Dad,” he says quietly, propping an arm onto a pillow behind his head. “How’s it goin’?”

“Fine, Son. How are you? Busy it seems?”

His heart swells a little when his Dad doesn’t sound mad at all, only happy to speak with him. Thank heavens for supportive parents.“Yeah, really busy. Always something going on, you know?”

They make small talk for a few minutes about things going on at home, on his tour, with the family. And then as much as he loves his father he’s suddenly growing more and more tired. The abnormal quiet of the usually rambunctious bus, the feel of the soft mattress of his bunk underneath him and the warmth of the air trapped behind the curtain of his bunk all meld together to create the perfect combination for his exhausted body to start drifting off. But then, his Dad says Kyra’s name and all of a sudden it feels like a jolt to his system. His eyes pop open and his body tenses slightly.

He clears his throat and apologizes, “Sorry, what was that?” He blinks his eyes forcefully a few times, begging them to cooperate with the pace of his thoughts.

“Kyra. She’s here. Did you want to talk to her?”

It’s like his mouth has momentarily forgotten how to form words and all he can utter is a jumble of sounds and half sentences. “What? Um, uh. Yeah. Sure. What is she...um, what is she doing there?”

He can hear some shuffling in the background, a few muffled words and then his Dad is back on the line. His heart drops a little and he realises that maybe he had been hoping that it would be her voice on the other side.

He recovers quickly but doesn’t have the chance to say anything before his Dad says, “I guess she just went into the shower. Anyway, yeah, she’s here to sign papers to renew the realtor’s contract for the house.”

JC frowns. “What house? Her house? She’s selling it?”

“Well, yeah. She says she doesn’t figure she’ll move back here after college. It’s too big of a house when she’s all alone, and it’s a big expense to keep even when it’s empty. I don’t blame her for wanting to sell it and use the money to pay for her studies. Though I figure she might have to move back if she doesn’t sell it before she graduates from school, you know?”

“Yeah,” JC says quietly as he shifts in his bunk. There’s a weird, tight feeling in his chest and he’s not too sure why. “Has there not been any interest in the house?”

“A few visits here and there over the last couple of years. I try to keep the outside looking nice, you know? Mow the lawn in the summer, shovel in the winter. But the market isn’t so hot right now, so I don’t know. It’s all empty and everything, so it would be a fast move in for whoever buys it. That’s why she’s staying here overnight, she’ll head back to college tomorrow. Kinda weird to see her hanging about the house again, sleeping in your old room no less,” he chuckles.

JC chuckles too, but it’s forced because that pressure in his chest has turned into a knot at the bottom of his throat. “Yeah, must be.”

A moment later, the sound of the tour bus door opening followed by someone calling out his name confirms to him that his alone time is up. He clears his dry throat again.

“Hey Dad, I gotta go. Tell Mom I love her. I’ll call again soon.”

After listening to his Dad’s goodbye and his promise to let Kyra know he had called, JC flips his phone closed and lets it drop onto his chest. For a moment he simply closes his eyes and lets his racing heart start to slow. But then his racing thoughts start to catch up and the pressure around his chest intensifies. He’s not sure why he’s reacting this way but it feels like everything is hitting him at once; Kyra’s toothy smile as she laughs at something he says, the fluttering of her eyelids as he leans in to kiss her for the first time, her pleading eyes begging him not to confirm that her mother has died, her tear stained face as she looks back at him in anger telling him she doesn’t know who he is anymore. His fingertips start to tingle and her face in his mind’s eye is getting obscured by spots of bright light and suddenly he can’t breathe.

“Hey C, you in there?”

The close up voice of someone right beside his closed bunk curtain startles him back to reality and he gets a big gulp of strangled air. He sits up quickly, almost banging his head on the top bunk as his chest rises and falls quickly. It’s like he’s just run a marathon, but really he’s been absolutely still.

“C? You okay in there?”

JC coughs, trying to cover the quiver in his voice as he brings a shaky hand up to the curtain partition and pulls it slightly ajar. “Yeah….yeah, man. Just fell asleep,” he says as loudly and calmly as he can. “I’ll be right out.”

As he listens to the heavy steps of security heading back out of the bus he takes a moment to take a few more deep breaths. The first couple are still a bit shaky but as he continues they get more and more even and he feels his heart rate start to settle once again. Then, as he pulls apart his curtain more widely and swings his legs off of the bunk, he can’t help wonder what the hell he’s going to say if she actually does call him back.

**

The smell of sweet, rich cinnamon rolls baking in the oven combined with the earthy, briny scent of sizzling bacon wafted from the kitchen into the lively Chasez living room on Christmas morning. Ripped pieces of festive wrapping paper and open cardboard boxes littered the worn hardwood floor as pyjama clad family members laughed and talked over the streaming sounds of Bing Crosby still dreaming of a white Christmas. Kyra, who was seated on the stuffed loveseat nearest to the window, quietly sipped at the cup of coffee she clutched in her hand as her eyes darted back and forth between the window and the lit Christmas tree not far from her in the corner of the room.

What a beautiful Christmas morning this was, she thought as her eyes flickered again to the window where very large, fluffy snowflakes were slowly drifting down from a cloudy winter sky blanketing the yard and nearby houses with a thin coating of white. She could still see the now faded glow of Christmas candles on the window sills of her old house but could not tell if a Christmas tree had been erected in the large bay window at the front where she and her mother used to place theirs.

It had been both harder and easier to be home during the holidays for the first time since her mother had passed. Harder in the sense that every time she was anywhere near a window, her eyes would automatically glance over for at least a moment to the familiar structure next door. Harder in the sense that being in the Chasez home sometimes made her feel like everything used to be like it was before. That her mother would be walking in through the kitchen back door any moment, wearing a horrid Christmas sweater while balancing plates of cookies, pies and cakes for everyone to share. That walking into the kitchen she would find Karen and her mother laughing as they drank wine and prepared the large family meal that was always scheduled for 4pm sharp every Christmas evening since she was four years old.

But it was easier for much of the same reasons. Being with the Chasez family made her feel like she was home again. She was the prodigal daughter that had finally found her way back and everyone was so excited that she had come. Old stories and jokes were shared around the crowded kitchen table while quiet encouragements and reminiscences were fondly remembered in front of the warm fireplace at night.

And JC.

He’d been everything she could have wished for during this time. He’d been patient. So patient with her through this entire thing and she would be hard pressed to find the words to express just how all of this was making her feel.

“Ky,” his voice suddenly broke into her thoughts. “You okay?”

She blinked her eyes a few times and turned to look at him sitting next to her on the loveseat. “Yeah,” she smiled. “I’m good. Are you?”

He smiled and her heart skipped a little. Funny how twenty years later, after all they’d been through, he could still do that to her. He nodded but then seemed to mull something over in his head before he set his mug on the coffee table in front of them. He reached for hers and placed it next to his before he stood.

“Come with me,” he said as he stretched out his hand to her.

She narrowed her eyes and unfolded herself from her seat as she took his hand. She would let him take her anywhere, but she still was a bit weary due to the apparently sudden decision on his part. Still, she let him pull her through the living room dodging piles of wrapping paper and unwrapped gifts.

“Where are we going?”

He ignored the question as he pulled her into the small kitchen. The air seemed colder here and the voices and noises from the living room grew softer. He stopped them near the back door and let go of her hand, suddenly seeming nervous.

“I uh...well, I…” he stammered before clearing his throat and running a hand quickly through his untidy chestnut curls. “Just hear me out okay?”

Kyra’s eyes narrowed in question once more but she didn’t say anything so he continued.

“I didn’t think you were coming, so your present is back at the house in Boston-”

“You seriously didn’t have to get me anything,” she interrupted. “I don’t even have your present here either, I wasn’t-”

He shook his head and waved away her concern, interrupting her as well. “I don’t need anything. You being here with me is about as good a present as anyone could have ever given to me. I just...um, well here.”

He walked over to the kitchen back door and reached up to the crowded row of coat hooks quickly pulling off her jacket and scarf. “Here, put this on.”

Though she accepted the jacket and scarf, she felt like her heart was going to squeeze out of her chest. The way he could say things like that without even pausing or realising how much they meant to her just seemed to always reinforce how beautiful his soul was.

She blinked again as he stuffed a beanie on top of his head. “Where are we going? I’m not really dressed,” she added motioning to her well broken-in pyjama pants and old faded U of Ohio t-shirt.

He shook his head as he leaned down and tossed her boots toward her feet before sliding his feet into his own. “Just get dressed. You look perfect to me.”

The moment her jacket was on and her feet had slipped into her boots he was pulling her once more, this time out of the kitchen door, across the snowy back deck and steps and finally out toward the backyard. The air was humid with a cold that went right through her clothing and sidled itself against her bones. When he suddenly stopped walking he turned to her and she watched as he seemed to become really uncomfortable once again. He readjusted the beanie on his head needlessly and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.

“So uh, I wasn’t really planning on doing all this now…” he trailed off, his eyes lowering to the tips of his snow covered boots. “But I think you deserve to know and well...I just can’t keep it from you anymore.”

For a moment Kyra’s heart dropped and her eyes settled on the top of his head since he’d shielded his face from hers. She’d been weary but half amused with his hare brained idea until now when she realised that he might have been intending to drop a bomb on her.

Why the hell would he do this on Christmas day of all days? Now? Just when she was starting to feel normal? Just when she had started to wade through her past memories and weave them into the forefront of her present? My gosh, had he cheated? Again? Was he going back to the JC that had shattered her entire being and torpedoed her heart back in that tiny hotel room almost five years ago? Why had she opened herself up to him again?

Her racing thoughts must have been evident on her face because he stepped forward and cupped her face gently with his large hand. He forced her to look into his eyes and said, “It’s not bad, sweetheart. Just...follow me.”

He released her face and grabbed her hand again to lead her across the small area that separated the Chasez property with hers. As he pulled her up the side steps of her old house she started trying to keep him from pulling her along, instead she tried to pull him back toward her.

“What the hell are you doing?” She asked in a panicked voice, her eyes darting around the property half expecting someone to pop out from nowhere to yell at them.

He said nothing but released her hand and climbed up the three steps by himself. She was just about to whisper-yell at him again when she noticed him stick a hand into his pocket. Then, everything seemed to fall into place and she grew absolutely silent and still. She watched with wide eyes as he pulled out a key ring holding two golden keys from his pocket and easily slid one of them into the lock on the door. His eyes found hers again as he turned and looked at her.

“I want to explain myself,” he started in a quiet voice. “But it’s cold and I don’t want to do it over there,” he added as he motioned with his head over to his parents’ house. “Please come in?”

She blinked a few times and stood there as he watched her with a sheepish look on his face. She could tell by his expression that he wasn’t really sure how she was going to react. Hell, she didn’t even really know how to react herself. Her entire body seemed to buzz with shock and her boots suddenly seemed to be filled with lead.

She continued to stand still, her eyes wide and her mouth seemingly glued together until he repeated his request. “Ky, please come in.” This time he reached out his hand to her and again, her body seemed to act on its own. She always followed him, would always follow him.

Her leaden feet clumsily climbed up the steps and before she knew it his hand was pressing the small of her back forward. The moment she stepped into the house the whole room seemed to spin but she forced her eyes to settle on what she knew was a stationary object. After taking a deep breath her vision settled and she took it all in.

The inside of the house looked the same as when she had left it last. The kitchen was empty but for the cabinets, appliances and the lone kitchen island in front of the sink. She felt JC move away from her and watched as he toed off his boots before walking over to the island and pulling out one of the two custom sized stools from underneath the counter.

Then, her eyes started to wander around the house; to the right where a flight of carpeted stairs led down to the basement where the wood stove and a small den used to be; to the left down the hall to the living room where she used to watch TV and where the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms was located. When her eyes settled once more on a silent JC who was patiently watching her from his perch on the stool she lifted her brows.

“Chordea Corp, that was you?” She asked in a quiet voice, her lips barely moving. She already knew the answer. She had always remembered the name of the corporation that had bought her house, having found it strange at the time of the transaction.

He adjusted the beanie on his head nervously again and nodded. “Yeah.”

She nodded and slowly toed off her own now dripping boots. Her socked feet touched the cold ceramic of the kitchen floor and it propelled her to walk forward. When he seemed to want to stand up she shook her head and said, “I need a few minutes.”

He nodded quietly and leaned back against the counter. She felt his eyes on her back as she walked past him and down the hallway, her fingertips gently gliding along the painted wall. When her feet felt the plush carpeting of the living room she continued across the room to the stairs leading up to the second floor. Her fingers continued to follow a path beside her on the wall as she ascended slowly, her fingertips encountering the rough edges of long empty nail holes from picture frames that used to hang there. She walked down the hallway and peered into the empty bathroom and then stopped at the door which used to be her mother’s bedroom.

Although it was empty now she could still picture the bed up against the window at the back of the room with its colourful duvet cover and mismatched pillows; the reading chair in the corner that never held anything but work scrubs and worn sneakers; a dresser that used to be covered in framed pictures of herself at different ages and a well used stethoscope. When she finally moved away and walked through the next door on the right. It was like second nature for her feet to take her across the carpeted room to the window at the far side of the room. She sat down on the padded window seat her mother had sewn in a happy pattern that matched the colour on the walls.

She pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees as she looked around her empty bedroom. It was all sinking in and she didn’t really know how to feel at this point. She hadn’t been back inside the house since she had left it a few days after her mother’s funeral. She had hastily packed everything of importance into boxes which she had put into a storage facility in town. A lof the the furniture had gone to Heather, JC’s sister, who had recently moved into an apartment and had gladly accepted the free stuff. Whatever hadn’t gone to the Chasez’s she’d arranged to have an estate appraiser come and take everything for an agreed price. And then, she had locked the door for the last time and handed over the keys to the realtor.

Now, years later she had realised that it may have been a rash decision to close everything off and distance herself from the place where she once loved, fell in love and felt safe. Dealing, or rather not dealing, with the death of her mother on the grander scale of things had caused her some issues with trust and anxiety which she still dealt with today. And at times, she had mused that maybe going back home may have helped with that, but then the house had sold and she had lost her chance.

And now she had it.

Because of him.

She bit her lip and as if he’d read her mind, she turned at the sound of someone quietly approaching her door from down the hall. Seconds later his sheepish face came into view again and he leaned against the door jamb of her bedroom. She could tell that he was unsure if he was welcome at this point, if she was angry at him.

To be honest she probably should have been angry with him, at least a little bit. He had gone behind her back and done this. But at the same time….

She sighed then asked quietly, “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders as his fingertips worried the edge of his jacket on one side. “I don’t know. I just...I did it. We hadn’t spoken in over a year. I was over being an asshole and had been trying to reach out to you for a while--no don’t, I deserved it.” He said as he rightfully deducted that she had been about to apologize.

He continued, “I didn’t know what to do anymore. And then while I was on tour I called my parents and Dad mentioned that you were at our house to sign realtor papers. He said that you were having a hard time selling it…”

He shrugged and sort of faltered. She felt bad for him and motioned him over to sit beside her on the window seat. He complied and sat next to her before he continued, apparently emboldened by her accepting his presence.

“I don’t know...it just sort of hit me. That night during the show I was off, all I could think about was you and everything that happened. All I wanted to do was tell you I was sorry and try to make it up to you...but I couldn’t figure out how. And then that thing with the house...it just sort of fell into place for me you know? So after the show I called my lawyers and asked them to contact the realtor company and make an offer. Whatever the full price was, I was going to pay it. The only thing I made sure was that you wouldn’t know, that no one would know, not even my parents. Because whatever had happened between us I knew...I knew that if you knew it was me making the offer, you never would have taken it.”

He chuckled a bit and a small smile formed on her lips.

“So I made the offer through my corporation and it went through. I don’t know...I just felt that well, if this could in any way make your life easier...if I could just make sure you were okay…”

He shook his head and looked away.

“I just wanted you to be able to do whatever felt right eventually. Say goodbye to the house, or move back in...whatever you wanted. I didn’t want you to have to be pressured into making any decisions just because of finances or emotions that were still so fresh to you.”

He seemed to run out of things to say so he stopped talking. She reached over to touch his arm gently and he looked up at her again.

“I...um, I’m not sure what to say honestly…” She said quietly and it was true. She wasn't sure she would be able to process all of this for another little while. But one thing she did know was that she wasn’t angry with him and that she loved him. So much.

“I love you,” she said to him her eyes meeting his.

He smiled. “I know. I love you too.”

She always had. And she had a feeling she always would. She wasn’t sure where things would lead now, what would happen to her, to them, to the house...but what she knew for sure was that he had just handed her the pen that would enable her to now turn the page and eventually, finally finish the book.

**