My Butterfly

lowered my eyes and found the asphalt near my feet again. And within seconds, I felt Rachel’s hand on my shoulder.
    “Give her some time, Will,” she said.
    I started to smile to myself as Rachel walked away.
    There was that time word again. But this time, it didn’t bother me nearly as much.
    I watched Rachel get into her car and pull away, and when she was out of sight, I let the sides of my mouth turn up until they couldn’t turn up anymore. So, it would be more than a week and a half before she would know everything now. That thought sobered me up a bit. But now, at least, I had time to get my plan together.
    “Time,” I said, under my breath, as I shook my head.
    Time seemed as if it were the answer for everything these days.

Chapter Thirty-Seven
    The Song
     
     
    “Y ou ready, Will?”
    The muffled voice hit my ears as if it were asking me if I were ready to go into battle or something. There was a weariness in the tiny recording studio. But it wasn’t coming from the thin man or the thicker, bald man who moved buttons up and down on the other side of the glass window in front of me. And it wasn’t the fact that they were staring at me either. I had somehow gotten used to them over the last couple of years. What I hadn’t gotten used to, though, were the big headphones that swallowed my ears and the weird microphone that threatened to devour my face. They were still strange, but they also weren’t the cause of my anxiousness. No, the anxiousness wasn’t a guest of the present—but of the future, I guessed, as I stepped closer to the mic. It was more like that uneasy feeling of not knowing if you’ve spent the good majority of your life doing the right thing or the wrong thing. It was that feeling of finally having reached the top of that river bluff but then not knowing what to do when you got there.
    I nodded my head in the direction of the thin man behind the glass.
    “I’m ready,” I said into the mic.
    My eyelids slowly fell shut then, and I lowered my head. I had one chance to tell her what I should have told her years ago. In my head, I recited a silent prayer: Lord, get this to her ears . Then, I heard the music, and gradually, the words of her song began to instinctively fall off my lips:

“It’s a summer night
And I can hear the crickets sing
But otherwise, all the world’s asleep
While I can only lie awake and dream
And every time I close my eyes
A butterfly comes to me
It has soft, green eyes
A sweet soul
Brave wings
And each time, it hears me sing:

Where have you been?
I’ve missed you so
Tell me of your travels
Tell me you’ve seen the world
Now, you’ve come back home
Tell me you’ve carried me with you
That you’ve held me close
Tell me you’ve missed me
Or that I’m not crazy for waiting ‘cause
Of all the butterflies that chose to stay,
I’m in love with the one that got away

Then in my dream it turns to me
And that butterfly smiles
And whispers in my ear:
Where have you been?
I’ve missed you so
My wings are tired
For I’ve carried you home
I’ve carried you through the mountains
I’ve carried you over the sea
Everywhere I went
I carried you with me

Then instead of spreading those brave wings
And flyin’ far away again
That butterfly stays near instead
And whispers back to me:
Tell me again what you never said
And I sing again:
Where have you been?
I’ve missed you so
Tell me of your travels
Tell me you’ve seen the world
Now, you’ve come back home
Tell me you’ve carried me with you
That you’ve held me close
Tell me you’ve missed me
Or that I’m not crazy for waiting ‘cause
Of all the butterflies that chose to stay,
I’m in love with the one that got away.”
 
    I sang the last words of the song and then lowered my head. And eventually, the music faded back into my headphones.
    “That’ll do it, Will,” a voice hit my ears then. “That’ll make the girls happy.”
    An anxious smile slowly found its way to my lips.
    “I’m only concerned about one,” I softly said to myself.

Chapter Thirty-Eight
    A Favor
     
     
    “H ey, man, have you seen Rachel?”
    “Uh-uh,” Jeff said, before he threw another dart at the wall.
    I watched the dart hit a big circle, far from the bull’s-eye. Then, I kept moving.
    “Hey, Will, where ya goin’? I’ve gotta tell you something,” Jeff called out, his words trailing behind me.
    I ignored him. It couldn’t be as important as what I had to tell