He pushes open the door and walks to my bed, then pulls a huge box out from beneath it. It’s an electric keyboard, complete with a stand and a stool. I recognize the brand immediately. It’s the same ones we use in my music classes, so I know exactly how much he spent on this gift, and I immediately want to tell him I can’t accept it. But at the same time, I’m so excited about it, I rush over to it and run my hand over the box.
I throw my arms around him and kiss him all over his face. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
He laughs, knowing how happy he just made me. “Is it the right one?”
I nod. “It’s perfect.”
I had a piano growing up at my parent’s house, but it’s too big to travel with. I grew up playing it, which started my love for music. I’ve slowly been integrating other instruments, but the piano is where my heart is. Ridge sets the keyboard up against the wall. I sit down and start playing a song, and Ridge sits down on the bed. He watches my hands with the same appreciation as someone who would be able to hear what they’re creating.
When I finish playing the song, I run my hand appreciatively over the keys. I can’t believe he remembered one comment I made a long time ago about wishing I had a piano like the ones we use at school. “Why did you get me this?”
“Because. You’re good at songwriting, Syd. Really good. You deserve an instrument that can help you create music.”
I crinkle up my nose at him because he knows I’m weird with compliments. Just like he is, I guess. I crawl onto the bed with him and wrap my arms around him, looking him in the eyes. “Thank you.”
He brushes my hair back, sliding his hand to the side of my head. “You’re welcome.”
I’m inspired. By him, by his gift, by the feeling I had on my way home when the windows were down and the music was blaring. “Let’s write a song right now. I got an idea on the way home from work.” I lean over to the nightstand and grab the pad of paper and pens. We both sit up against my headboard, but the guitar he leaves here is against the wall. He doesn’t retrieve it, and instead, we decide to start with lyrics first.
On the way home, I had the thought that I wanted things to feel this way forever. I wanted to bottle up his love and save it forever. As soon as I had that thought, I knew I wanted to write a song that revolved around that feeling. At the top of the page, I write the potential title, “Love Worth Saving.” I write the first few lines of lyrics as they come to me.
Got a little money
Enough to get us by
Our house ain’t pretty honey
But baby it keeps us dry
Our friends ain’t rich or famous
But we pretend on the weekend
I tap the page as I move my fingers across the lyrics to give Ridge an idea of the pacing of the song. He pats his hand on his knee in time with mine and then reaches for the pen and writes, “Chorus,” then follows that up with a few lines of his own.
Even if our clothes are fading
They’ll always look new on you
Even when the times are changing
Nothing’s gonna change my view on you
You know we got a love worth saving
As soon as I see the lines, “Even if our clothes are fading, they’ll always look new on you,” I smile. Last week we were having a conversation about my possibly changing degree paths. I still don’t know what I want to do, but he was supportive of whatever I decide, even if it means we’ll struggle financially a little longer. He said those words to me, that clothes would look new on me, even if they’re faded, and I told him he better put it in a song. It’s almost as if he’s been waiting for this moment and already had those lyrics prepared. It’s incredible how seamlessly we work together. Writing music is such a solitary thing, much like how I assume writing a book would be. But when we’re together, it just works. It’s like we’re better together than we are alone.
He’s tapping through the beat of the chorus, but I’m still stuck on the lyrics he wrote. I draw a heart next to them to let him know I love them. Then I pause for a moment until I can come up with the next few lines of lyrics.
Don’t need no gold or diamonds
Got the glow right in your eyes
If it’s your love you’re selling
You know I’m gon’ keep on buyin’
We can make something outta nothing
Just keep that feel good coming
Ridge hops off the bed and grabs his guitar. I decide to use the record feature on the keyboard, so I move over to the bench and he sits next to me on the bed. He spends the next fifteen minutes working out the song on his guitar, and I use what he’s creating on the guitar to match it with the piano.