Bird After Bird (24 page)

Everything changed when I met Wren. She might have been acting a little distant lately, but I knew my heart was safe in her hands. Hers was the first face I wanted to see every morning and the last voice I wanted to hear before I fell asleep. I didn’t care if she wanted to live in Chicago or Katmandu. I was up for anything as long as Wren was a part of it.

Chapter Forty-three

Laurie

“You know after we do this for you, you’re going to have to perform at a gig once in awhile,” Billy explained.

I’d been practicing the song January Wedding by the Avett Brothers for the proposal, and the guys were doing me a solid by backing me. I gave them money for gas and the B&B gave us permission to set up in their vineyard for a special two-person show.

If I’d had to sing in front of anyone else but the Boys and Wren, I wasn’t sure I could do it, but for a week after work we’d filled the garage with the sounds of banjo, fiddle, and the singing voice I’d long ago written off as a waste of time.

“He’s not kidding, man,” Hank said. Hank played guitar for the band and spent most of his garage duty fixing electrical problems in cars. “I haven’t heard you sing since junior high, but you got it.”

“I ain’t too proud to give ya the mic,” Billy said. “I get hoarse singing all night and I can’t hit some of the notes. Seriously. You’re on the hook for this.”

“Whatever you say, guys.”

Eagle Creek lived up to its name. Whole families of bald eagles roosted and soared, and a zillion other species flitted about if you just waited long enough for them to show themselves. Wren and I were in heaven.

It was the kind of perfect May day where the sun warms you enough for a T-shirt and jeans, and you can finally ditch the winter jacket. We lay in the shade of an ancient poplar, passing binoculars back and forth as the warblers chased invisible insects through the tree limbs.

I sketched her for a while as she watched them, nibbling a picnic lunch.

“I wish things could stay like this forever,” she said.

I thought about proposing right then. The ring in my pocket felt as big as a walnut shell. It was a simple gold band stamped with the stylized silhouette of a bird. One of my artist friends from the community center had made it for me, and I knew Wren was going to love it.

If she wanted a diamond, Wren seemed like the type of girl who would pick that for herself, anyway. I wasn’t going to offer her an engagement ring. I was going to propose to her that night and give her a wedding ring, instead.

The art fair was all it was billed to be, as well. Between the birds and the fair and the night to come, I wondered if we’d ever have a day like this again. Maybe our wedding. Maybe when we had a child—if we had a child. We had a lot to talk about, still.

Hundreds of white-tented booths lined the edge of a meadow. Hand-blown glass baubles caught the sunlight, and wind chimes provided pleasant freeform music you could hear from all over.

As was to be expected, every booth in the show had some sort of bird-themed art for sale. A fellow hand-carved common birds, and Wren couldn’t help but buy one of each. She nearly cleaned the poor guy out and sent him back to the studio for more. Hand-knitted sweaters with embroidered birds were another find. It was awesome just watching her take it all in, then buying everything she loved. My arms were getting tired from carrying it all when she stopped to buy us each a pineapple whip at the refreshments booth.

“Best date ever,” she said.

“Just you wait.”

She gave me a flirty wink.

“I should have brought a wagon for carrying all your stuff,” I said. “Should I just back my truck up to one end of the show, and you can have everyone put their finest piece in the back?”

She punched me, and I dropped my whip.

“Aw, damn,” she said. “Here, share mine.”

After a couple of licks, she asked, “Do you think I spend too much money?”

I shrugged. The truth was, she earned quite a bit more money than I did, and I wasn’t sure I could guess what “too much” might be for her.

“I don’t know, Wren. All these people need the support, and you love the stuff they’ve made…how can that be wrong?”

“Opportunity cost,” she said. “I’m blowing my spending budget today, and that might mean I give less this year.”

“Give…to charity?”

She nodded.

I thought about it. “I’m sure I’m biased, but sometimes giving an artist a fair price for his work is a kind of charity. Just enjoy it.”

She threw the rest of the pineapple whip into the trash. “C’mon then! Go get that truck of yours!”

She was joking, of course, but she did slow down with her purchases as we perused the final row of the art show.

The only place she lingered was in the jewelry booth. The exact same craftsman that had made the ring I held in my pocket, in fact. I could hardly breathe as she leaned over his display of gold on black velvet, carefully scrutinizing the work inside.

“Laurie, come here,” she said. She pointed inside a case at a gold pendant, hammered into the shape of a diamond. It was on a chunky chain, and the pendant bore the imprint of a bird—the same stamp as the one on her ring, but larger. “Would it be horrible of me to buy this one last thing?”

The artist smiled from behind the case. He knew what the ring was for, and didn’t see it on her finger. I was grateful he didn’t spoil the surprise.

“Let me,” I said, and handed my friend some cash. When she exited the booth a few minutes later wearing the pendant, all I could do was smile. It was a sign, I thought.

Daylight was beginning to fade. The sky was trimmed with puffy clouds and I hoped for a spectacular sunset.

“I’m famished!” she said. “What should we do for dinner?”

“I thought you’d never ask. I made us a reservation at a local winery.”

“A winery? Yum!” I’d never seen her so happy. Maybe she hadn’t been available for a couple of weeks because of work, but today was so easy, I was sure we were through the rough patch.

As afternoon turned to evening, we strolled through the vineyard, hand-in-hand. We’d barely been able to fit all of Wren’s purchases in the truck between us, and we were still joking about her bout of insane retail therapy when we heard banjo music.

“Where’s that coming from?” she asked.

I hadn’t been sure exactly where Billy & the Boys were going to set up, but we’d almost found them. I shrugged. “Let’s go find out.”

The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was ablaze with shades of orange, purple and pink when we entered the clearing. A table had been set with covered dishes of wine and cheese, grapes and apples, and two wine glasses, with a bottle of red waiting to be uncorked. Billy & the Boys were playing their rendition of a Trampled by Turtles song, and before Wren could say no, I swept her into my arms for a dance.

“You set this up?”

“Guilty. Booked us a room here at the B&B, too.”

She sighed. Her expression seemed sad, which surprised me.

“Would you rather sit and eat? You want to just go home? Tell me what you want, Bluebird. We’ll do it.”

She pulled me in close, resting her cheek against my chest and swaying to the tunes the Boys were playing. She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out.

“What’s that?”

She pulled away from me and looked up into my eyes. “I said I just want to be here now—in this moment—with you. I want it to last forever.”

“It will, babe. It will.”

I thought about dropping to one knee right there and proposing, but I stuck to my plan.

We danced another song, then I walked her to the table. I uncovered Wren’s dish and she dove into the platter of goodies while I uncorked the wine.

“Aren’t you going to sit down?” she asked, her mouth still full of fresh-baked bread and homemade butter.

“Give me a second,” I said. My plan was to cross the clearing to the band. That was their cue.

Wren grabbed me by the hand before I could get away. “Come on and sit down. There’s something I need to tell you.”

I didn’t like the sounds of that. The boys moved on to another song, and I sat across the table from her while she poured the wine.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” she said. “Not exactly.” She filled her own glass, then clinked hers to mine. “To us,” she said.

“To us!” I smiled. She was so beautiful in the golden light, and the sunset was fading to pink and purple against the cosmic blue of night and the brightness of the stars. I could see Venus, and the moon. The ring felt like it had taken on a life of its own, like it was dying to leap from my pocket onto her finger. As much as I’d feared singing, I could barely wait to express myself. “What do you need to tell me?”

“I’m taking a job in New York.”

Chapter Forty-four

Laurie

“New York, huh?” Well, that wasn’t part of my plan. I didn’t know what to say.

“I want you to come and see me as much as you can. We’ll walk in the park, see some shows, visit the MOMA—it’ll be awesome!”

I slipped my hand back into of my pocket and dug into dinner. The ring felt cold and small now, unimportant.

I couldn’t propose to her now. Not while her life was getting ready to become even more hectic. As little as I’d heard from her over the past two weeks, I couldn’t imagine what the stress of moving and starting a new job was going to do to her time.

“Must be a pretty big opportunity.” I tried to sound happy for her, but my heart gave me away.

I thought I’d tell her that she’s my bluebird, that I wanted to follow her to my own happiness. I’d decided I could take my art on the road, to run a booth like the artists we saw that day at Eagle Creek. I thought she’d support that, see the potential of my being able to travel for work, for shows, while she had to fly to Chicago for meetings. I thought we’d work it out. I thought it made sense. I thought it was beautiful.

So much for that.

I was willing to make my life around her, but she didn’t even care to discuss her plans for the future with me. How naïve had I been?

“Laurie, we’ll still see each other as much as we can. I can’t turn down this job. It’s the chance of a lifetime and I can write my own ticket after this.”

I nodded, but as the boys ran out of songs to play and launched into January Wedding without me, I felt like a fool.

“Laurie, what’s wrong?”

I had a gulp of my wine. I had to get it off my chest. “I just wish you had asked me first before you took the job.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re engaged. We’ve only known each other a few months.”

I nodded, biting my lip. The guys were looking at me funny. They could tell something was wrong. I gestured for them to go ahead and finish up.

As they packed up, I leaned forward and spoke quietly so the guys wouldn’t overhear. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“Since when do I need a man’s permission to make my own decisions?” She was angry, hurt. The light of the candle centerpiece on the table flickered off her bird pendant, and in her eyes.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Wren. I just don’t want to lose you.”

Her eyes watered in response, but she said nothing.

I leaned forward and took her hand in mine. “I know what I want. Do you?”

Chapter Forty-five

Wren