The Pride of Garnet Run: Garnet Run, #2.5, page 5
The time he’d spent with Henry had been the happiest of his life, and not only because love, it turned out, was a tonic indeed. But also because it had showed him another way to live.
Over the last six months, he’d taken fifteen musicians of very different training, skill, and experience, and turned them into a well-oiled group that could play almost anything. And so they’d had to, since Henry had changed his mind about which movie he was going to show three times.
The first time it’d happened, Cameron had walked into rehearsal and cringed as he told them. But they had rallied—the project now a mission as dear to their hearts as it was to Cameron’s.
The second time it’d happened, Cameron had nervously begun, "Um, some bad news," and before he’d even gotten out the words, Jean had said, "Did your boy change his mind again?" Then they’d rallied again.
The third and final time it happened, Cameron had merely bitten his lip and opened his mouth before George McCray, a large man who played the viola with exquisite tenderness, had held up the sheet music they’d printed out at the local high school, and torn it dramatically in twain.
They had rallied once more, throwing themselves into learning and perfecting the new music with all the interest and dedication of before.
And Cameron had felt completely, guttingly humbled.
These fifteen people were not professional musicians. They were accountants and bricklayers and high school students and retirees. They were doing this because they loved music. Because they loved Garnet Run. Because they had, in the way of these things, come to love Cameron—and by extension, Henry.
Cameron had wanted to talk to Henry about it, but since he couldn’t spoil the surprise, he just held him close that night, and when Henry asked how his day was, had said, "It was really good." Because it really had been.
Now, everything they’d worked toward was here, and as they crested the halfway point of the movie, Cameron’s joy was infused with sadness.
He would miss the hell out of their rehearsals. He’d miss seeing Jean and George and Matilda and all the rest of his ersatz musical family. He would miss the feeling he got when a piece of the music came together for the first time, and the sense of accomplishment they all had as they went their separate ways.
As the film ended, and the music swelled, Cameron took a deep breath and reminded himself to enjoy every moment of it.
When The End flickered onto the screen, the audience rose to their feet as one body, clapping and cheering.
"Encore! Encore!" people yelled.
Cameron waved it away—Aw, shucks—but Stella Washington, their bassoonist and one of Jean’s friends, said, "The Hunchback of Notre Dame?" and the rest of the orchestra nodded.
They had learned two other scores, after all. Cameron smiled. Without knowing it, Henry had created their encore for them.
"From the beginning through the second movement, then," Cameron said, and started them off.
They played. They smiled. They laughed when Miles Goldstein’s elbow hit the cymbal by accident. And when Cameron brought them to the climax of the second movement and then to silence, the crowd erupted in cheers once more.
Cameron had avoided looking at Henry as he’d played, worried that he might get distracted and lose his place in the music, or—worse—see that Henry didn’t appreciate this surprise in what was otherwise a perfectly planned out evening.
But now he let himself look to the front row and find him.
Henry was on his feet, cheering, tears streaming down his face, and his Uncle Clive’s arm around his shoulder.
Cameron couldn’t help himself. Nothing in the world could have prevented him from going to Henry in that moment.
He bolted down the stairs and stopped in front of the man he loved. Henry’s usually perfect hair was a mess, and his face was streaked with tears.
Cameron had never seen anyone more beautiful.
"I can’t believe you," Henry said, clutching at Cameron’s shoulders. "How did you do that?"
But he didn’t give Cameron time to answer. He just wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him for all to see.
Kissed him, in the theater he had restored for this town. The theater he had filled with story and Cameron had filled with music, and Garnet Run had filled with life.
The cheers that rose around them were of a different quality than the ones in response to the music. Softer. Calmer. The cheers of couples reaching for one another’s hands because seeing someone else in love reminds you how wonderful it is.
Reminds you that love has the power to change the world.
Henry mumbled something to his uncle, and buried his face in Cameron’s neck, unwilling to let go.
Clive Wayne’s gravelly voice came over the microphone.
"All right, you all. Mingle as long as you want. There’s more champagne in the lobby. But don’t bring it in here because you’ll spill it," he added gruffly.
Cameron smiled, fairly sure that had not been part of what Henry told him to say.
"Let’s get you cleaned up a bit," Cameron said, tugging Henry away from the crowd to the staff bathroom in the back of the theater.
He locked the door behind them, and Henry pressed his shoulders against it.
"That," Henry said, "was amazing. Absolutely … I’m just … I can’t even …" He shook his head. "How did you do that?"
"It took a while," Cameron said. "But, um. I really liked doing it."
"You’re a wonder," Henry said, eyes liquid honey. He kissed Cameron’s left cheek, then his right, his nose, then his forehead, and finally his lips. "I love you so much."
"All for you," Cameron murmured, his own eyes suspiciously damp. "Anything for you. Everything for you."
He stood behind Henry and tried to smooth his hair back into place. Then he just locked his arms around Henry’s stomach and rested his chin on his shoulder, looking at them in the mirror.
The bathroom wasn’t ornate like the rest of the theater, but in their reflection, Cameron saw every beautiful dream he’d ever had.
They weren’t about playing with a prestigious orchestra anymore. Now, they were dreams of a future. A shared future where he did things every day that made him feel fulfilled the way bringing the orchestra together had. The way bringing Henry coffee in the mornings did. The way walking with him, hand in hand, not speaking, through the woods did. The way lying together in bed, feeling the warm certainty of his body just before he drifted off to sleep did.
The Cameron in the mirror smiled, and the Henry in the mirror smiled back at him.
* * *
When they walked into the lobby, Garnet Run greeted them. Champagne flutes were pressed into their hands and their backs were patted. But Cameron never let go of Henry’s hand.
They were talking with Miriam, Vanessa, and her girlfriend Rachel when a woman said, "That was magnificent! I’m George’s wife."
Cameron greeted her, and was then introduced to a slew of townspeople, all of whom clearly had known about the performance, despite Cameron instructing his musicians to keep it a secret.
"We’ve all been so looking forward to this," a bespectacled man in a top hat said, and others near him nodded.
"Wait, wait," Henry asked Cameron. "Did everyone but me know what was going to happen?"
Cameron shook his head.
"It’s news to me. I told them all to keep it a secret."
Jean laughed and squeezed Cameron’s shoulder.
"A secret? In Garnet Run?"
They all laughed.
Cameron and Henry looked at each other and shrugged.
After another glass of champagne, they both agreed that it was rather hilarious that a large portion of the town had known what was going on when Cameron hadn’t mentioned it to a soul.
Charlie and Jack Matheson made their way over, at least half a head taller than the crowd. Rye Janssen hand his arm looped through Charlie’s arm, and Jack had an arm protectively around his partner Simon’s shoulder.
"The place looks great," the brothers said, practically as one. Rye sniggered.
Charlie pointed at something on the ceiling and started talking to Henry about it. Cameron tuned them out when architectural lingo began to fly.
"My grandma really loved playing with you," Simon said softly. He was a shy man and directed the comment mostly to the floor before he glanced up at Cameron.
"I’m glad. She’s a trip."
Jack winked at him and nodded emphatically.
"She’s been lonely," Simon said. "Since my grandpa died. So …"
Cameron understood completely. It was crucial to have things to take your mind off devastation.
"Well, she’s got a new best friend now," Jack said. Cameron followed his gaze to where Jean and Clive Wayne stood, talking intently.
Simon’s smile was soft, his love for his grandmother apparent.
Charlie greeted a handsome woman as she approached them.
"Hi, Syl. How’s the deck?"
"Around the house," she said dryly, then added, "and delightful."
"This is Sylvia Mortensen," Charlie said. "Syl, this is Henry Finch and Cameron Autry."
When Sylvia shook Cameron’s hand, he had the sense he was being evaluated. Her eyes were a calm brown, her hair short and neat. Everything about her bespoke order and self-possession.
"You are very talented," she said. "Do you enjoy teaching music?"
"I’d never done it before, honestly. But yeah. I loved it."
She nodded contemplatively.
"I’m the principal of Garnet Run High. And we need a music teacher."
She pulled a business card from somewhere and pressed it into his hand.
"Call me on Monday. Let’s talk."
She walked away and Cameron goggled. With her easy assurance and air of command, she was about as unlike Mr. Simpson, the ancient, allergy-stricken principal when Cameron had been in school, as could be.
The Mathesons and their partners seemed to recede, and Cameron found himself in a corner with Henry.
"Did she … Was that … for real?"
Henry’s eyes glowed as he nodded.
"Would you want to teach music?"
Cameron felt the future he had seen in the mirror drawing closer and closer.
"Yes," he said with certainty. "I really would."
Henry’s smile was soft and proud.
"I mean," Cameron said, "I don’t have a teaching certificate. I don’t have experience with teenagers. I don’t—"
Henry put a hand over his mouth as he had so often done to him.
"I’m sure she knows that. Don’t worry about it now. Just call her tomorrow. See what the possibilities are."
Cameron pressed his forehead to Henry’s.
Possibilities.
It was all possibility now.
"I’m so proud of you," Henry murmured.
"I’m so proud of you," Cameron said, stroking his back.
"We make a pretty good team, huh?"
"We really, really do," Cameron agreed.
As a waiter passed by, Cameron plucked two glasses of champagne off their tray and passed one to Henry.
"To all the amazing things we’re gonna do, and to every day we spend together doing them."
The champagne bubbled, the jazz hummed, the town of Garnet Run celebrated.
And Cameron and Henry looked into each other’s eyes, and saw a whole future unfold.
DEAR READER,
Thank you so much for reading The Pride of Garnet Run! I hope you enjoyed Cameron and Henry’s story. If you did, consider spreading the word! You can help others find this book by writing reviews, telling your friends, and talking about it on social media. Reviews and shares really help authors keep writing, and we appreciate them so much! The power is in your hands. Thank you!
* * *
xo, Roan Parrish
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ALSO BY ROAN PARRISH
The Better Than People Series
Better Than People
Best Laid Plans
The Pride of Garnet Run (short)
The Lights on Knockbridge Lane
The Rivals of Casper Road
* * *
The Middle of Somewhere Series
In the Middle of Somewhere
Out of Nowhere
Where We Left Off
* * *
The Small Change Series:
Small Change
Invitation to the Blues
* * *
The Riven Series
Riven
Rend
Raze
* * *
Standalones
The Remaking of Corbin Wale
Natural Enemies
Heart of the Steal
Thrall
The Holiday Trap
READ IN AUDIOBOOK
The Garnet Run Series
Better Than People
Best Laid Plans
The Lights on Knockbridge Lane
The Rivals of Casper Road
* * *
The Middle of Somewhere Series
In the Middle of Somewhere
Out of Nowhere
Where We Left Off
* * *
The Small Change Series:
Small Change
Invitation to the Blues
* * *
The Riven Series
Riven
Rend
Raze
* * *
Standalones
The Remaking of Corbin Wale
Heart of the Steal
The Holiday Trap
ABOUT ROAN PARRISH
Roan Parrish lives in Philadelphia where she is gradually attempting to write love stories in every genre.
* * *
When not writing, she can usually be found cutting her friends’ hair, meandering through whatever city she’s in while listening to torch songs and melodic death metal, or cooking overly elaborate meals. She loves bonfires, winter beaches, minor chord harmonies, and self-tattooing. One time she may or may not have baked a six-layer chocolate cake and then thrown it out the window in a fit of pique.
You can keep up with all my new releases and get exclusive free content by signing up for my NEWSLETTER.
* * *
Come join PARRISH OR PERISH, my Facebook group, to hang out, chat about books, and get exclusive news, updates, excerpts of works in progress, freebies, and pictures of my cat.
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You can order SIGNED PAPERBACKS and tote bags through my website.
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And you can find me online at RoanParrish in all the usual places.
Roan Parrish, The Pride of Garnet Run: Garnet Run, #2.5
