Connected: Part 4 of the On The Edge Series

Chapter 14

"Merry Christmas Eve." Billy's voice came barely above a whisper as my fingers flexed into his chest.

"Mmhmm, I could get used to waking up like this." I smiled as the warmth seemed to permeate me to my bones.

"What time will you be back from the office today?" His hand brushed over my hair, causing a couple of loose strands to catch in the roughness of his fingers.

"I'm working from here today. I brought my laptop home. The office closes at noon, and then I have to run a couple of quick elf errands."

"Elf errands? Sounds like code for last-minute shopping." One of Billy's eyebrows teasingly rose, pulling a giggle from me.

"What about you? Are you all finished?" I prodded.

"I am, but I was thinking of checking out Starbird. It's a piano shop. They look to have a Mason & Hamlin 50 that I want to check out." Billy's voice drifted to the piano like departing notes of a song.

"Mmhmm, I'm assuming that's a piano. You can take the car. I can walk to all the places I plan to visit."

"Are these solo adventures?" An air of disappointment slashed through his once airy tone.

"Oh, so you want to run errands together?"

"Isn't that what boring couples in their 40s do, run errands?" The tease had returned to his voice.

"Is that what we are?"

"If it walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and tastes good with plum sauce..."

"I've never had duck with plum sauce," I mused to myself.

"You know, I don't think I have either. I don't care for duck."

"I like Duck Soup," I offered.

"The movie or dish?"

"Do you have to ask?" I lifted my eyes to meet his.

"Yeah, I know... movie," he sheepishly nodded. "What time do we need to be at your mom's tonight?"

"Six, and remind me to pick up rolls." My mind was drifting to work, and Billy could tell.

He dropped his lips to the crown of my head before lifting it again and adding, "go take a shower; I'll start the coffee."

"You want to join me?" I teased while still holding out a little hope.

"Yes," fell out of instinct before he added, "but I shouldn't."

I swallowed back my sigh as I headed to the shower alone in frustration. Billy's strumming floated through the condo to my ears as I dressed for the day. I hushed my movements to listen to the humming and murmurs that came low from deep within Billy's mind. The song was slow, rough, and filled with starts and stops. I knew he was working through his thoughts more than a new song. I stalled in the doorway listening to the ebb and flow of stuttered caution and driving frustration work through his guitar while his hum remained a low tender stream punctuated by peaks of almost angry murmurs.

I took a deep breath as I prepared to dive in and entered the living room with a chipper "hi."

The song immediately stalled as Billy slung the guitar to lean against the couch while he popped up as though he were a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "Morning," he added with a bit too much force.

I gave him a casual smile, as though the whole situation wasn't tearing me apart from the inside. "Well, off to work," I teased as I slid into a chair at the dining table.

Billy paced to me and kissed the top of my head before muttering about a shower and heading back into the bedroom. My eyes followed his wake and then fell on his guitar. Never in my life had I put so much faith in an inanimate object. I needed that wood and strings to pull Billy back to me, gather his thoughts, and order them. And I hoped those thoughts led to my door and not away from it.