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He Kissed His Muse. I Wrote Every Song. novel · Chapter 11 of 24

Chapter 11: Ten Minutes

Colt came back on Tuesday evening for the bedtime story.

I had agreed to it on Monday, with conditions.

Ten minutes, in the twins' room, with me in the chair by the door.

He sat on the edge of Gus's bed with a picture book about a bear who could not find his hat.

Birdie sat cross-legged on her own bed in her raincoat and pretended not to listen.

Colt did all the bear's voices.

He did the hat's voice too, which was not in the book.

Gus laughed so hard that he fell off the pillow.

I sat in the chair and watched, and I let myself have it, just for the length of one page.

Then the phone in Colt's pocket buzzed.

He stopped reading.

He took it out and looked at the screen, and I saw him go still.

"Colt," I said.

"It's the label. It's the deposit for the stadium. If it bounces, the whole tour..."

"It's Sonya."

"It's about the deposit."

He stood up.

"Two minutes," he said. "I'll be two minutes. I'll be right back."

He went into the hall and pulled the door almost shut.

Gus looked at me.

Birdie did not look at anyone, which meant she was looking at everyone.

I heard Colt's voice in the hall, low and fast.

"No. I can't. I told you, I'm at the house. No, Sonya, that's not what... All right. All right, I'll come."

I got up and opened the door.

He turned, with the phone still against his ear, and the look on his face said he knew exactly what I was going to say.

"Ten minutes was the rule," I said. "You've used six."

"Lin, please."

"I said it was the rule. You're the one who gets to break it, apparently."

"It's a crisis. She says the venue is going to cancel."

"Then go."

"Lin..."

"Go and fix her crisis," I said, quietly, so that the twins wouldn't hear. "I'm sure she needs you. And when you're done, remember that this is the thing I can't stand. It's never the big betrayal. It's every small time you pick up the phone."

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