Free Falling Stars by Charles Sheehan-Miles Page B

jealous?” she shrieked.
    I sighed.   And nodded.   “Yeah, babe. I’m sorry. I was so fucking jealous I couldn’t think straight.”
    Her mouth wrenched a little to the side, jaw tightening. “I was too. I’ve never been so angry and jealous in my life.”
    “I should have talked with you, not just reacted.” At my words, her eyes watered even more.  
         “I should have reassured you,” she admitted.
    I looked at the ground, studying the meaningless patterns in the gravel and dust, then back up into the empty, grieving face of the love of my life.   “You shouldn’t have needed to reassure me, Julia. I need to trust you.”
    She nodded.   “You do. And I need to be able to trust you, Crank.”
    I took a step closer to her.   She reacted, instantly, stepping back, her old armor starting to settle into place, but she visibly stopped herself after a step or two and stayed in place. “I do trust you, Crank,” she whispered.   “That’s why this hurt so much.”
    I opened my mouth to speak, and at the same time I reached out and touched her, tentatively, with one fingertip.   My words came out on a breath of hope. “Forgive me?”  
    She swallowed, her eyes wide and tearing up, then she leaned close to me and whispered the words in my ear. “Forgive me? ”
    “I do,” I replied instantly.
    “I do,” she said.
    And then, for the first time in weeks, she was in my arms again.

Not the response I expected (Crank)
    It was a little bit over twelve hours from our unscheduled stop beside the road before we finally reached the banks of the Mississippi River at Memphis, Tennessee. The sun was setting behind us, casting the entire sky in shades of yellow and gold as Carrie turned the Mustang onto the Hernando de Soto Bridge.
    Julia leaned against me in the back seat and together we stared up at the arches of the bridge, the spans lit up by rows of bright, twinkling lights.  
    For most of the last twelve hours, Julia and I huddled together in the back seat, talking and holding each other. It reminded me all too forcefully how much I missed the simple things. Running my fingers through her hair. Wrapping my arms around her. Listening to her low, earthy chuckle in response to jokes. Sean and Carrie took turns driving, taking us straight through with no stops except for gas and the occasional bathroom break.
    So we caught up. We talked about the good and the bad from our summer. We talked about the tour, and our lives, and our hopes. But most of all we just touched, and reconnected. And loved.
    For twelve hours straight, Sean and Carrie talked about bacteria. About ecology. Computers. Sean shouting in his loud, blaring tone, Carrie responding in her low, rich voice. It was clear she was as big a geek as my brother, and I loved that. I especially loved the fact that she was the only person I’d ever met who could stump him. The only person I’d ever met who knew as much as he did.   Carrie loved her science. Loved.  
    By the time we were fully into Memphis, the sun was out of sight and darkness had overtaken the city. Carrie kept driving through until we reached the far side of Memphis, then pulled off the highway and followed the signs. Dixie Motor Inn. This looked…fantastic. Rustic. Seedy, really, but it would have beds.  
    I was wiped out, but kind of wired too, and an attached restaurant looked like it was still open. Maybe I could get Julia to go there with me so we could talk.
    We parked and I followed Julia inside and she checked us in, because she’d made all the travel arrangements. I couldn’t help but wonder if I should be taking a more active role in this.   I mean…she was manager of the band, so she took care of that stuff on the road. But what about now? What was the right answer? I didn’t know anything, except that so far I’d been doing everything wrong.
    We could sort that out. This much I knew: I wasn’t taking anything for granted any more.
    After the desk clerk gave us