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: : : —I'VE JUST DECIDED TO SORT of take it as a sign from God, Austin says. —That it's time for me to get out of Chicago.
—Hm, says Darren, turning a tuning peg on his fiddle. —You've been here for a long time now.
—Seven years, says Austin. —But when you get right down to it, there's not that much that's keeping me here. I mean, I enjoy playing with you, but outside of that—? I'm unemployed. My family is all out in Eugene. My roommate got married. This thing I was doing with Lydia fell apart—and before her it was Rose. And, I don't know, Rose and I—it was like we never finished what we began, you know? It was like all of a sudden she was gone but our relationship never actually ended. And if I go out to Minneapolis we get a chance to kind of pick up where we left off. And I think it could be good. That makes it worth it to me. To go.
Darren nods and swigs from his bottle. Austin waits for more of a response, and doesn't get one. He looks down at the guitar and changes his fingerings. D, F#, Am7. He tries to shake the feeling that Darren is like watching him. You're just paranoid, he tells himself.
—So, Darren says. —Are you going to be moving in with her?
—Not right away, Austin says. —I mean, she's agreed to let me stay with her for like a couple of weeks or whatever when I first get there, but with the understanding that I'll be looking for a place and a job and all that. We'll have to see how it goes. Maybe after I'm out there for a year or whatever we'll think about it.
He takes a drink.
—I don't know, he says. —I think I might be ready.
—How do you mean, ready? Darren asks.
—You know. Ready to like move in with a girl. Maybe even more, if things go well. Maybe—I don't know.
What he wants to say is ready to get married, ready to settle down. In his imagination there is this life between the two of them, this future life. In his imagination he sees a baby, their baby. The baby that they should have had, back in 1999. In this future he sits on his low stool and he plays the guitar, gently, sweetly, and Rose sits on the couch, and she sings to the bundle in her arms. In this future they have the baby and they raise it right. They could do it; he knows they could. The two of them are magic together. They wouldn't make the mistakes that other parents make. He wants a chance at it. Another chance. And he will leave behind whatever needs to be left behind in order to have that.
—Yeah, he concludes. —I don't know. We'll just see how things go.
—Yeah, Darren says. —You do that. See how things go. But, listen, man, I just want to say this: if you break her heart again I'll kill you.
—What? Austin says.
—I think you heard me.
—Yeah, I heard you, man, but: what? You'll kill me?
Darren looks up from the fiddle and meets Austin's incredulous stare. —Rose is a really special woman, he says. —She deserves someone really good. And if you're that guy, great. Seriously, great. I'll give you my blessing. But I remember what happened the last time you guys were involved. Do you remember that? Do you remember what happened to her? Do you remember her crying every day? You remember her losing her job? Having to move back in with her folks?
Austin drops his gaze, looks down at the guitar, stares into the grain of the wood.
—Yeah, Austin says. —I remember those things. You know I do.
He also remembers Lydia, three months ago, lying crumpled on the floor of his apartment, among scattered sheets of paper, crying. He remembers the way she wouldn't answer his calls after that. He wonders how she's doing. You hurt people, he thinks. That's what you do. You move through this world carelessly and you damage people.
But that's not going to happen again, he tells himself. And he says as much to Darren.
—I hope it's not, Darren says. —That's all I'm saying.
—It's not, Austin says.
—I hope it's not, Darren says.
—Yeah, well, it's not, Austin says. —Listen, I didn't come over here to get into all this with you. All this shit about broken hearts and I'm gonna kill you. I came over here because I wanted to play some music. With you. My friend. Now are we gonna play some music or are we gonna dick around with this shit all night?
Darren tilts up his bottle, finishes off the last of his beer. —Let's play, he says. —Sure.
—Are we cool? says Austin.
—Sure, says Darren. —We're cool.
And so they play. They run through maybe six songs, all from the Folk Anthology. They play each one pretty much perfectly. And then Austin says —Well, I'd better go turn in, I think I'm going to get up early tomorrow and start in on my packing.
He closes the latches on his guitar case and rises.
—When are you leaving again? Darren asks.
—First of the month, Austin says.
—You think we'll be able to get together and play again before then?
—Maybe, Austin says. —One way or another I'm sure I'll see you again before I go.
—Yeah, Darren says. —Well. Good playing tonight.
—Thanks, Austin says. —You too.
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