Chapter 9
Jet
“Hey. Can I talk to you a minute?” Ginny asked. “Maybe somewhere a little more private”?
Jet glanced around at the bustling dining room, and the kitchen and living room beyond. He gestured toward the back slider, and they made their way out to the deck.
“Oh, God, it’s beautiful,” Ginny mused. “Even at night. It seems like there shouldn’t be a view, but the moonlight reflecting off of the ocean is stunning!”
Jet never tired of hearing people’s first impressions of the view. It only served to remind him how lucky he’d been to grow up in Valentine Bay. As they settled themselves into two of the Adirondack chairs that always sat out on the back deck, he said, “Yeah. I know. It was one of my favorite things about the place growing up. I used to sit out here just to be alone with my thoughts. Or to write lyrics, sometimes.”
“I can see that. I could write some doozies looking out at that view. About the darkness of heartache, but even at midnight, there’s some light glinting through. If you just look up at the moon.”
They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, both of their eyes fixed on the view. Finally, Jet asked, “So, you never did tell me what you’re doing here.”
“Sure I did.”
He shook his head. “Nah. You’ve been looking into your genealogy for months, but you just now decided it was time to drop in, unannounced? Without even knowing where we lived? And on a day when you can only be in town for less than twenty-four hours? I don’t buy it.”
She inclined her head. “You caught me.”
“So, what is it? You’re upset with me for ‘sullying the family name’ or something?”
She reached over and patted his arm. “Oh, lord, no. Nothing like that. I came here because I was kind of worried about you, Cuz.”
They exchanged quick grins over the joke, and then Ginny continued, “Look, if there’s anybody who knows all about starting over– and doing it in the public eye, no less– it’s me. I could teach a master class on that particular concept.
“When you’re going through something like this, it’s great to have friends and family around to talk to. They know you better than anyone else, and they can be really useful sounding boards. But you know what’s even better than someone who knows you?”
“What’s that?”
“Someone who knows what you’re going through.”
Something inside Jet unwound. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding a piece of himself so tight. Just hearing Ginny say those words, he recognized the truth of them.
“How did you figure out what to do next? And how do you make that mental shift when the path you’re on, that you always saw stretching out straight to the horizon, suddenly takes a huge, twisting turn?”
“Well, you certainly cut straight to the heart of the matter, don’t you? And with such a pretty metaphor, too. I tell you, it’s nice to talk to another songwriter.
“As for what to do next, you’ve got to figure out what feels right to you, deep down in your soul. It’s not about what makes the most sense, or what other people tell you. It’s about what’s going to bring you deep satisfaction.
“At the end of the day, if you don’t have that, what’s the point of making art? It would be a hell of a lot easier to do another job, outside of the public eye, where only your immediate circle judges you when you make a fool of yourself.
“What we do comes with a steep price, and we pay it because it’s the only way to do what we love. So what do you love enough that the price you pay to do it seems cheap? That’s what you have to figure out.”
He let out a low whistle. “Damn. That really puts things in perspective. There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?”
“What if nothing feels right?”
“Oh, yes,” she nodded sagely, “I see what’s happening. And I know exactly what you need to do to fix it.”
His heart beat a little faster. Could she really have the answer? What a fucking relief that would be! He tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice as he said, “What? What do I need to do?”
“Well, it kind of has to do with the second part of the question you asked me. There’s only one way to deal with a twist in the road, and it’s not easy. You have to grieve the loss of the future you’d envisioned for yourself. You have to let go of it, understand it’s not coming back.”
He grunted. “Believe me, I understand it’s not coming back. In fact, I understand that all too well.”