Nicholas and Taylor, after the show

After the show in Cleveland, Taylor and I shared a bottle of bourbon in his suite while the rest of the band and crew partied downstairs.  We were both too old for such nonsense.  Even our show times started earlier nowadays to accommodate us “seniors” and the fans who’d made us famous.

“Why haven’t you told her how you feel?”

“I can’t,” I said with a sigh.  “Not yet.  She’s not ready.”

“How long has she been widowed?” he asked.

“A little over a year.  It was a car crash.  Very sudden.”

“Hmm.”  Taylor nodded.  “Will you see her during break, before we go back to Europe?”

I smiled involuntarily.  “I hope to, but I’ve not mentioned it yet.”  I ran my fingers through my hair.  “God.  Is this what it feels like to be in love?”

Taylor threw back his head and laughed out loud.  “I can’t believe you don’t remember.”

“It was forty years ago!”

“Yes, but how have you escaped it?” he asked, still laughing.

“Dunno.  Alcohol.  Drugs in the early days.  Too many women in too many cities?  I dunno.”

“Well, I can tell you, being ‘in love,’” he gestured with air quotes, “and loving a person are two totally different things.  Being in love sometimes leads to loving someone, but more often it’s like having a crush.  Loving someone requires commitment.  If you love someone, you’re there for them, no matter what.  I learned that from Leoma.”

Leoma was Taylor’s ex-wife, the mother of his grown children.

“I’ll never love anyone like I loved her.”  He sat up to refresh our drinks, then he looked me straight in the eye and said, “That’s not to say I’ll never love anyone again.  Just not the same way.  Everyone’s different.  Every love’s different.  Keep that in mind.”

*          *          *

I considered just that as I staggered my muzzy self downstairs to my suite.  I needed to get some rest before we rolled out, back to New York for more recording.  It was far too late to call Caitlin by then and when I got to my room, I picked up my guitar.  It seemed I had a song itching through my fingers.  I worked out the bones and wrote it down.  I’d flesh out the details on my Les Paul later, but getting it out of my system would allow me to sleep.

 

NEXT UP: Nicholas recalls his initial meeting with Caitlin.