Page 104 of Tracing Holland

“We’re about to.”

Annie nods.“Do you like lasagna?”

“I love it.”

“That’s a relief because she made way too much like usual,” James’ voice calls from somewhere behind the wall.

“Oh shush.You like to take it for your lunches.”

“For a few days, not a few weeks.”

Annie rolls her eyes toward me, and I return a grin.“He loves it,” she mouths, then disappears back into the kitchen.

Holland returns with the guitar, a mid-range Martin that’s in surprisingly poor condition.

“What happened to this?”I laugh as she hands it to me.

“You have Percy.This is Sam,” she explains, beaming.“I just prefer to leave Sam at home for Emma who’s starting to get into it.”

A sense of reverence washes over me as I take the precious instrument.“Thanks, Holland.It’s gorgeous.”

She nods.“It was my first real guitar.I had another one before it, but this was from when I first got serious about music.”She rubs her hands.“Ok, so what’s the plan?”

I clear my head and focus back on the door to the basement.“Well, I don’t know.How far down in the basement would they be?”

“There’s a small finished section right at the base of the stairs.They’re probably watching TV.”

“Ok, perfect.”

I open the door quietly and work my way down a few steps, careful to make as little sound as possible.Once I find a good spot I lower myself to the carpet and adjust the guitar in my arms.I glance up at Holland and give her a quick smile, loving the look on her face as she begins to comprehend my plan.Then, without warning, I launch into my favorite acoustic rendition of “Greetings from the Inside.”

The volume of the TV drops instantly, followed by literal screams as a young woman who must be Sylvie turns the corner and spots me on her steps.Emma races up behind her big sister and starts grinning as well, although with the shy cool of a self-conscious teenager.The commotion draws Holland’s parents, and before I know it, I’m trapped on the stairwell by an adoring Drake family.I cast another glance at Holland and nearly fumble at the glisten in her eyes.I can hear the smile in my own voice as I look away again and finish the song.

“Oh.My.Gosh.No.Freaking.Way.”Sylvie cries, rushing up the stairs.I stay rooted in my place so she can reach me and hold out my hand.

“Hi, I’m Luke,” I say, and she nods, eyes wide with shock.

“Um.Duh,” she replies, and I laugh.

“You must be Sylvie.”

“Oh, gosh, that accent!”she blurts to Holland.Now, Holland’s laughing.

“Yep.”

“You’re...Like…on my steps!Why are you on my steps?Why is Luke Craven on my steps?”she demands from her sister.

“He’s here for dinner,” Holland replies casually.

“Here?Like, with us?Oh, crap, my hair!”She pats her head to hide it, even though I think she looks adorable.

“I like your hair.It’s cute,” I say, and she just about faints.

“He likes my hair.He…”

“Sylvie.Sentences, darling,” Holland counsels.“She speaks fluent English, I swear,” Holland assures me.

“Ha.Ha,” Sylvie returns, making a face.“I’m sorry, but I bet you reacted the same way when you first met him.Did she tell you what she did when her manager said they were touring with you?”