Chapter 63

Tom drove himself and, to a lesser extent, Noah relentlessly. At times he found himself wondering why they were still speaking to each other. Not that they were quarreling, but the tension of meeting each successive performance date was taking its toll. They were, in fact, too exhausted to quarrel—they crawled into their bed every night too tired to do much more than cuddle for a while before sleep captured them.

Finally, the Easter Sunday services—there had been two full services—were behind them, and they went home and crawled into bed without even bothering with lunch. They lay in bed for a long time, enjoying the luxury of not having to be anywhere or do anything.

“It’s been a rough three weeks, hasn’t it?” Tom said.

“Was that a comment or a complaint?”

“More or less. Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Not for at least twenty-four hours, but I like hearing it.”

“I’m sorry that I’ve driven us both so hard.”