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"let me put this world in the palm of your hand"
my fingernails scrape the soft suede of the couch in contemplation. i'm drawing abstract patterns as you walk back and forth in front of me, your footsteps soft and quick, your head dipped low as you watch the carpet under your feet. your sweater turns your slim frame hefty and leaves you with a shine of sweat, even in the bitter cold of an american winter.
"i need a moment," you tell me for the third time. in ten minutes, you'll have to leave me for the stage and the audience.
"i know, love," i say. my words are stuck in the pit of my stomach. your anxiety stings on me.
with a slowing pace and a deep breath, you turn. worry sets in thin lines across your face. "thank you for being here with me."
i rise to you and draw forward. your hands are clammy; they remind me that led zeppelin almost didn't get this show tonight, that you begged and begged peter to let me come along for the tour, that we fought our way through a blizzard to get here. "i've got you."
solemnly, your head resting against mine, you nod. so much pressing on your shoulders. "you'll come out there to watch me?"
"of course," i promise. i hold you a moment longer, my hands smooth on your back, until a stagehand calls you up. we fall in line behind jimmy, who grins in his filigree and says something too low to hear in all the noise. the announcer's voice still carries through the auditorium. you squeeze my hand as we part ways at the stage and i fall to the sidelines, listening to the smattering of applause from the audience.
you barely wait to start. feedback rings and jimmy finishes his tune-up as you slant towards the microphone. you bob your head to the rhythm of john's drums, to the low thrum of jones's bass. your curls shake in waves like wheat stalks in a breeze. my body is heavy and hot as you dance through your numbers.
halfway in, you grab the microphone and drawl out, "i'd like to introduce led zeppelin to you. on drums, john bonham. on bass guitar, john paul jones. on electric guitar, jimmy page. and myself, robert plant. thank you all for coming tonight. it's our first time playing in america." the audience cheers at this. you smile and raise your voice. "my love's with me here. she followed me across the water so i wouldn't be lonely." your giggle drifts in the auditorium. "this is a song i want to dedicate to her. it's called, 'as long as i have you,' by garnet mimms." you take the microphone from its stand and hold it close as you find me at the side. in the heavy, dry lights, your gaze is bare. it sends an ache running through me. i grin wide at you, so that when you turn from me to hide your face, my cheeks still ache.
it's done before i know it; all of you are coming down the stairs with praise bursting from the people around you. when you reach me, balmy and alive, you pull me close and soak me in your sweat.
"lord, i'm so happy you're here," you sigh into my ear. before i can reply, you take my hands and look me full in the face. sometimes i forget how lovely you are: how your lips turn up slightly at the end of your mouth, a perpetual smile, and how your blue eyes darken with excitement. "did you like the song?"
"of course," i reply. "it was brilliant. i'll never get over your voice."
a ghost of a blush warms your cheeks. "i think of you when i sing. you make those noises come out of me."
it's my turn to heat. i swallow your name in my mouth.
you look around at the people leaving the venue and pull me close in a dark corner near the backstage entrance. your hands fumble in your pocket.
"i have something for you," you mumble. "it's all sudden, i know, but i've been thinking about it for some time. now's the best moment."
a question hovers on my lips.
finally, you free the little box from your pants and stare at me. there's low light in the space we occupy. the shadows give you a holy look.
"do you know what this is?" you ask.
my heartbeat quickens. i can feel the blood rush through me. "is it a . . . ?"
your skin crinkles in a smile. you drop to your knee in front of me, bronze and all mine, and open the box. a small gold band sits inside, a cluster of tiny diamonds in the center.
"it's not a lot —" you start, but i cut you off with a wave of my hand. like a bloom in my chest, a great burst of emotion hits me. i have to catch my breath.
you don't even need to ask me. "yes, robert," i say. "yes."
there's something like surprise in your eyes, a humble hope, and you take the ring from the box to slip it on my finger. when our hands meet again, the tension in yours is gone, replaced by a confidence that grabs me. from our heat, the metal is warm. the diamonds sparkle when i raise my hand up to the light.
"i love you." your voice is steady when i turn back to you.
"i love you too. this," i give you my left hand, "is my promise to you. i'm always at your side."
your curls lie loose and sweaty on your forehead. you're catching your breath again before your teeth show and you nod. "and i at yours."
