Casey lives comfortably in her what ifs, and she has no tangible what if that’s bigger than Tate Stanley. He is a what if that’s always within reach, that seems possible when she thinks about it, that seems impossible when she thinks even harder. If there’s one undeniable, completely indisputable truth, it’s that he’s her person. They get each other, and isn’t that all that anybody wants? To have somebody who understands them and stays? All the good, all the bad, all of the little mundanes in between, she wants to share them all with him. Always has, even when they were both just little kids learning their way through a great, big world. But she looks at him now, inhabited with a private awe she suspects will never go away. “You do?” Casey asks, her excitement captured in her growing smile as she watches him flip through one of the books she’d picked up. She takes a moment to rest in her gratitude, to be able to look at him and take him in while he’s briefly preoccupied. She can hear it then, the sweet hum of a melody in her ear of yet another song about him. It’s nothing earth shattering, just a few words that’s too lyrical to be just another thought. “Yes, practice is a very good idea,” She nods in agreement, and not because she’ll gladly take any and every opportunity to spend time with Tate. “Let me tell you, kids are brutally honest, and they are the toughest critics. If we suck, they will have no problem whatsoever telling us we suck. I’m also pretty certain they can smell fear, so fair warning. I’ll tell them to be nice, though,” She teases, though there is absolutely some truth behind her words. There’s nothing quite like getting your feelings desecrated by a six year old with missing baby teeth. “You’d do that?” Casey asks, her heart melting. Of course he would, but it sends her brain into a creative spiral. “What if… wait, hold on,” She says, taking a second to put her thoughts in order. “What if we still read them a book, maybe one or two, and then the grand finale is a story you write about Miss Callahan’s music class?” Her eyes light up as she explains her idea. “Or, what if we take requests from the class right then and there and come up with little songs on the spot? Or do you think that’s too much? That might be too much. Also, I don’t want to put us both on the spot like that,” She reconsiders. It would be cool, but could they actually pull it off? “I mean, I am the greatest mind of our generation. It just sort of comes naturally, you know?” Casey shrugs as if it’s nothing before breaking into natural laughter. “Can you believe people leave me in charge of their children?”
it’s easy to get lost in casey when she begins talking, because her eyes light up with a passion and zest for life which is infectious and engaging. the way she talks about music reminds tate of when he finds a book that captures his imagination and casey callahan is the most amazing composition of stories he has ever read. she’s impossible to put down and each page is like a new fantasy. he smiles as she speaks, nodding and catching her excitement. “we can handle them, you’d probably be able to make a song about their insults.” he laughs but he does believe casey has the gift to make everything into pretty sounding melodies. “when you think about it, poems are basically songs without the music. i mean sure poems don’t really have a bridge or chorus but some do, but they all have a rhythm, right? so i just know you’re going to find it easy to put music to words. i can think up some poems about the class, or maybe...” he’s on the same wavelength now of excitement and begins clearing the counter top so he can grab a notepad and start jotting down their thoughts as they pop out of their mouths. “ok so, how many students do you have? because, we could probably write little songs about each student and something about their personality? you know how snoop dogg did the positive affirmations things for kids? we could do something like that but it’s tailor made to the students and the class.” maybe they’ve bitten off more than they can chew but most things feel possible when he’s with casey, in fact everything feels possible apart from telling her that he loves her. “i’d trust you with my kids, for sure. you’d be the best mom.” he hopes that doesn’t sound strange, she knows what he means he’s sure of it.
