“What are you saying? That you’re going to give up your career so she doesn’t break up with you?”

“Of course not. And she wouldn’t want that. But I’ve been on the road more often than not for a decade. It would do me good to chill for a while.” Cal took off his jacket and moved his hands around like a conductor while he talked. “This is my plan. I’m going to vow to take a year off. I’m going to end this free love nonsense. Really commit to this relationship. And I’m going to participate in her life. I’m going to do shit with her. Shit she likes to do, like hiking and going to museums and the farmers’ market—she always wants me to go to the fucking farmers’ market with her, and I never do. You know, even when I took her to Big Sur I was on the phone most of the time, working. And how about taking her out for a romantic dinner once in a while? How hard does that sound? It sounds like fucking heaven, and I don’t know why I haven’t been doing it. I’m an asshole.” Cal turned the AC on low. “So yeah, that’s my plan. I’m going to show up and give her what she needs, and she’s going to forget about whatever fucking fuckhead she’s messing around with, because whoever he is, he can’t give her what I can give her. That much I know.” Cal nodded like he had it all figured out. “I’m not going to screw this up.”

He stared at me, waiting.

“What?” I mumbled.

“Do you think I’ll be able to convince her to give me another chance?”

This much I knew: Cal has a way of talking that makes people believe him. His confidence and resolve are so solid that if he told me he was going to steal a planet from the sky and leave it on October’s doorstep the next morning, I would have expected to see Jupiter waiting for her when she woke up.

“Earth to Harp?”

I was watching the road but not really seeing it. “Yeah,” I said with heartbroken honesty. “I think it’s entirely possible you will.”

Per Cal’s instructions, once I got to the Greek Theater I followed the signs to the Foothill parking lot directly above the venue. A young kid in a yellow UC Berkeley rain jacket was standing guard, making sure no unauthorized vehicles pulled in. He checked my name off a list, gave me a parking pass, and told me to make sure it was visible on my dashboard.

Cal’s tour manager, Wyatt, was waiting for us in the lot. He handed me a laminated All Access pass on a lanyard and gave Cal a rundown of the day’s schedule. Soundcheck at 3. Doors at 6:30. Opener at 7:30. Callahan at 9. And an end-of-tour party after the show. I wondered how that was going to fit into October’s plan to come clean with Cal.