Page 10 of Love Out Loud

“Yes.”

“And you know the author well enough to suggest your high school friend should take on the role?”

“Jessica. Yes. Sort of.”

There’s a puzzle piece sliding into place. The name isn’t familiar, but it sounds like someone Lennon may have spent some horizontal time with.

“Right. So you told Jessica”—I don’t even try to hide the disdain in my voice—“who I am sure is very young and pretty, that your old hag bestie might be a good fit for this project in some kind of misguided white-knight moment to save me from my own impending empty-nest midlife crisis. Is that about right?”

He’s silent for so long I check to see if he’s hung up. He hasn’t.

“I don’t even know which part of that to respond to first,” he finally admits.

“This is not one of your better ideas,” I say flatly.

“It’s a great idea.” He sounds offended. “You’re not teaching courses this summer. Devin is going to be traipsing around Europe with her friends and then headed to New York. You’ve done some voiceover work before. All you need is a microphone and a closet.”

“You want me to spend my summer in a closet narrating a book. For Jessica.” I am losing my grasp on reality with every minute this conversation carries on, so I turn off my car and press my phone to my ear so I can at least make my way closer to the track.

“I haven’t slept with her, if that’s what you keep implying.”

“I think ‘the lady doth protest too much.’” I really need to teach something more advanced, if only so I can stop analyzing Shakespeare in Intro to Theater. Just for a semester.

“There was no protesting. I said it one time.”

“I don’t care if you’ve slept with her or not. It’s just a little weird that you’re asking me to do this. You’re in LA. Home of starlets and fame-seekers. Surely there’s someone out there who can do this in a pinch.” I arrive at the entrance to the track and smile at the security guard on duty. He waves me through.

“Look, you rattled me the other night, Lark. I felt really bad for you. And if we’re being honest, I could use the money from this one. It’s a big project. Bobby got engaged, and it would be a nice cushion in case it takes a while to find another roommate.”

There’s another puzzle piece sliding satisfyingly into place. Two, actually: pity and money.

I sigh heavily, pausing while the announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, ushering in the next event. “I’m at Devin’s meet, so I have to go. But I don’t think this is in the cards for me, Len. Even if I got a mic and locked myself in the closet, I live next to a bunch of rentals in a college town. It’s loud. It’s why I quit voiceover work years ago.”

The first runner crosses the finish line, and the crowd erupts just as Lennon says, “So come to LA. Do it here.”

I plug my other ear with my finger. “I’m sorry. It sounded like you just said I should come to LA. I can’t hear you over the crowd.”

“I did,” he shouts. “Come out here. I’ve got a room now that Bobby is leaving, and the studio has recording space. You’ve got time off and an empty place.” He pauses as the announcer states the next event. “And I miss you,” he adds once it’s quiet again.

I miss him, too. Desperately, sometimes. Like the other night when I was lying on my side, pretending he was in bed next to me, giving me a hug I so fiercely needed. He gives the best hugs. They’re the kind that completely envelop you and make you feel like absolutely nothing can touch you or harm you ever again.

“This is…a lot,” I finally admit. It’s a ridiculous idea. There’s no need for me to go all the way to LA to record an audiobook. But I’d be lying if I said I was completely uninterested. If a little bit of Michigan sunshine in the quad earlier gave me some pep in my step, imagine what sunny Los Angeles could do for me. Not to mention that recording an audiobook could open more doors in the industry, which might satisfy Carl.

Though based on the slight crack I’m sure I heard in Lennon’s voice when he said he misses me, I don’t think this visit would really be about any of that. It’d be about spending time with my best and oldest friend. The rest of it would be a bonus.

Lennon’s voice scatters my thoughts. “Yeah, of course. Take some time to think about it and call me later, okay?” He sounds nervous, and maybe a little dejected. Knowing him, he had this wild idea and thought it was so amazing there’s no way I could turn it down.

But he knows me as well as I know him, so he should have been prepared for me to have to think it through.

“Okay,” I say.

“Tell Devin she did great,” he adds quickly.

“She hasn’t run yet.”

“I know. Doesn’t matter. Whatever she does will be awesome. Okay, talk later.”

Devin’s event is up next, so I say a hasty goodbye, but for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m standing at the edge of something really exciting. And it’s not just the personal best Devin runs while I scream and jump up and down. Her teammates all rush onto the track at the end of her event, hugging her. She greets each of them in turn but makes sure to shine her smile up at me in the stands.

I’m so proud of this kid—and proud of myself for doing a good job raising her. She’ll always need me, and I’ll always be her mom, but right now, I have a chance to be just Lark again. Not Professor Caspian. Not Mom. Not even Lennon’s Songbird. And the idea of it is so attractive, I’m having a hard time finding a reason not to go.

For the rest of the meet and long after we get home, eat dinner, celebrate with ice cream, and she retires to her room to call her friends, I try to talk myself out of it. I even look for flights thinking they’ll be prohibitively expensive, but they’re surprisingly reasonable. I decide to sleep on it because hasty decisions aren’t my MO. But as I close my eyes, a giddy sensation washes over me.

I’m going to LA.

And I get to spend a summer with Lennon.