“Two thousand five hundred?” That many people really give up hours of their weekend to sing dull songs and listen to some guy talk for thirty minutes? “Wow. I had no idea.”
“You don’t go to church here?” Cameron tilts his head and studies me. “Where do you go?”
I give myself a mental head slap and toss out the best excuse I can come up with on the fly. “Well, I just moved to town a month ago, so I’m still trying out different ones.”
“Try here, then.” He says this as if it’s the easiest decision in the world. And truthfully it’s tempting, because I would love to see him onstage.
I shrug. “Maybe I will.”
“Good. Because now I’m gonna show you the best part.” He grabs my hand to pull me along, and as much as I try to ignore the pulse of excited tingles his touch brings, the effort is futile. If today has shown me anything, it’s that I’m hopelessly attracted to this guy. Which is why I should be anywhere but stepping onto a church stage with him.
Cameron, on the other hand, inhales as if the wood platform is his lifeblood. He lets go of my hand and walks to the center. Spreading his arms, he says in an exhale, “This is my favorite place in the world.”
I walk forward slowly until I’m standing at his side, sharing the same view of fifteen hundred empty stadium seats. I don’t feel elated like he does, more like terrified and overwhelmed, but I still smile and say, “Yeah, it’s incredible.”
“I was five the first time I performed in front of an audience, and I knew, even back then, that music was my future. It’s like the world stops for those brief moments and all I can feel is the pulse of the crowd and the beat in my chest.”
I’m drawn to his passion, mostly because I’ve never had any of my own. I’ve walked through life bumping along, figuring out what’s easiest and moving on when it gets difficult. “It’s good that you know exactly what you want.”
“Is it? I’ll be twenty-nine soon, working two part-time jobs to keep my dream alive, and sometimes I think it’s never going to happen.” He looks at me and there’s apology in his eyes, like he knows this conversation is much too deep for two people who have only just met. “Sorry. I think the abysmal writing this morning got to me a little more than I realized.”
I pat his arm and try to lighten the mood. “You’re too young to give up on your dream. Wait until you’re thirty at least.”
That has been my go-to answer for years.
Not married? Well, I’m not even thirty yet.
No solid career? I’m still in my twenties. This is the time to explore my options.
Will you move to San Antonio with me?
I shake off that last question before it ruins my mood. In hindsight, I can now see that my yes was not just rooted in love but also in fear. I was turning twenty-nine at the end of the summer and felt as if the banker was about to call in all of my it-will-happen-when-I’m-thirty debts.
Cameron’s eyes spark back up, and I guess I’m not the only one who finds solace in pushing off decisions until we cross into the next decade of our lives. It feels good that the two of us have that in common at least.
He glances toward the electric piano at the back of the stage. “Wanna break some rules?”
“On my first day?”
“Eh. It’s a tiny rule, and I break it all the time.” He walks to the keyboard and sits. “I’m new at the piano, so be kind.” Seconds later, a beautiful noise escapes from his fingertips. I guess Nate was right when he said Cameron could play any instrument. He sounds nothing like a novice.
I smile when I recognize the song. It’s the same one Doreen played at Pawpaw’s funeral.
Cameron watches me more than his fingers, which is an art in and of itself. “Even with all the new music out there, ‘Amazing Grace’ is still my favorite.”
“Mine too.” Not that I know any others. “It reminds me of my grandfather.” I move closer, and he begins to sing. Everything inside of me melts. His voice is, I don’t know, shockingly unique. Raspy and coarse when in the lower register, yet smooth when he reaches the higher notes. I’m no musician, but I’m fairly certain Cameron has the most perfect tone of anyone I’ve ever listened to.
He finishes the second verse, and just when I think he’s about to go into the third, he switches up the melody, sends his fingers across the piano faster, and belts out something about chains being gone and being ransomed and amazing love.
It’s a version of the song I’ve never heard before, and it sparks something uncomfortable in my chest. There’s too much emotion when Cameron sings, as if he’s not just singing the music but living and breathing it in. They’re more than words to him. He’s pouring out his heart in such an authentic and beautiful way that I almost understand giving up a Sunday morning to come watch it.
The piano slows again until the sound fades out in one long, elegant note. And when the stage around us goes quiet, I can’t move or speak. I feel as though I’ve been taken on a journey through a deeper part of his heart and maybe mine, as well.
No wonder women worship rock stars. I think a part of me just fell in love with Cameron Lee.
eight
I’m still sporting a cheesy grin and humming the words to “Amazing Grace” when I park my car in front of my cabin. The cold front has held off, and for the first time in over a month, my upcoming walk feels more like a victory lap than a mourner’s march.
In fact, I’m in such a good mood, I don’t even flinch when I notice the Kyles’ white truck parked two spots down from mine. Grabbing my purse and keys, I slide from my little Prius and slam the door.
“It’s about time.”
I wish I could say I didn’t know that voice, but I do. It’s the same deep, aggravating tone that got under my skin last night.
Dillon emerges from around a pillar and takes two steps down. He’s in his typical jeans, work boots, and T-shirt ensemble. How he doesn’t freeze is beyond me, but then again, every inch of him is covered in lean muscle. “Doreen said you got off at four.”
“I do, but I stayed late.”
“Already? Not really a good precedent to set, especially at a place that works their staff so hard.”
“How would you know?”
“Who doesn’t know?”
Whatever. I am not going to let Dillon get to me today. I think back to Cameron’s voice and the way his head tilted toward the ceiling in absolute surrender. A floaty smile emerges, and I know that Dillon notices because his eyebrow lifts. I choose to take the high road and ignore it. “What’s so urgent, anyway?”
“Rain is coming, and while I’m pretty sure I fixed the roof leak over your bathroom, I want to draw a circle around the water stain so I can see if it grows any tonight.” He picks up his toolbox when I get to the top of the steps and stands there, waiting for me to open the door.
“You could have just asked Doreen for an extra set of keys.”
“And invade a woman’s bathroom without her knowledge or permission? No thanks. I like my head attached to my body.”
A smile slips through, even though I had determined never to speak to the man again. “I take it you have sisters?”