It didn't feel like it at the time, but Tim's wedding was a last hurrah in many ways. We stayed in near-daily communication, but visits were few and far between. Not even milestones could pull us together.

"She said yes," Billy announced a few weeks after Tim's wedding.

"Of course," I said, unfazed by the announcement.

"We're getting hitching in three weeks," Billy continued, as though that was a common amount of time between getting engaged and getting married.

"What?" This time I was shocked.

"We want to lock it in before I go on tour and she heads to Europe for work," he explained.

"Three weeks! Did you knock her up?"

"Classy, Lil. No, she's not knocked up; we just want to get it done. You can make it, right?"

"Yeah, of course," I absently spoke as I tapped through my phone. "Wait, three weeks from today? Like on a Thursday?"

"No, the Saturday after," Billy corrected.

"Oh, no," I groaned.

"What?"

"That's Sam's cousin's wedding. We RSVP'ed like three months ago, as people normally do for a wedding," I chided.

"Fuck," slipped past Billy's lips, ushering in a heavy silence.

"I can ask Sam..." I began.

"No, this is on me, Lil. You made a commitment. We'll see each other soon," Billy sighed.

But Billy was wrong. I was next a couple of months later when the stress of planning a traditional wedding, Sam and I broke.

"I'm getting married this Friday," I announced unceremoniously on a group call with Billy and Tim.

"What is wrong with you two?" Tim groaned.

"Lil, we're literally in Germany. We can't get back by Friday," Billy added. "Did he knock you up?"

"I deserve that," I acknowledged my response to Billy's shotgun wedding. "The whole wedding thing was just too much, and the thought of a bunch of people I barely know watching me walk in heels makes me want to vomit. We're just going to have our parents with us and get married at city hall."

"You two don't know how to have a good time," Tim complained.

"I'm sure we'll see each other soon, and we can celebrate both marriages," I offered.

But I also was wrong. Days slipped to weeks, then to months, and suddenly years passed us. Billy and I were removed enough from each other's day-to-day lives that we could be honest, sometimes painfully so. Still, Billy led an amazing life. He navigated an onslaught of notoriety for his music and thrived under pressure. He had a conviction to the complexity of the work but forged a simplicity to the craft. He was devoted to tangible instruments, fulfilling a need to feel the noise. But with more success came more fame, and he was not good at people. His skin was too thin, and veins ran too close to the surface for any protection. He knew not everyone would like his work, but the attacks on his person, or worse, his family and friends, took a heavy toll. Sarah was right for Billy. By his side, she helped carry that burden with a grace that I envied. He would always praise her handling of fans. She was patient and kind even when people were intruding.

I was walking into a different world when I finally made my next visit to Duluth.

"He's perfect," I cooed as Tim gently placed his three-day-old son in my arms.

"James, after James Brown," Tim offered.

"Tim, he's named after your father," Tess corrected.

"Yeah, him too," Tim acknowledged.

"I can't believe you have a kid," I said in amazement.

"It's fantastic, and scary, and unbelievably incredible all at the same time," Tim noted.

"Look at these hands," I said as James wrapped his tiny hand around my finger.

"He has enormous feet. He's going to be tall," Tess added. "And based on the last two months, a soccer player too," she laughed.

"There's the godfather," Tim announced as Billy joined the group with Sarah in toe.

"You're letting butterfingers Lil hold him? Is that safe?" Billy teased as he sat next to me and scooped James up in his arms.

Just as I expected, Billy instinctively knew what to do. James nestled into his arms and fell fast asleep.

"How killer is he?" Billy murmured to me. "I want one," he added.

"You will be an incredible father and godfather," I agreed.

Sarah slipped in next to Billy.

"What do you say, Sarah? Baby time?" Billy asked.

"Looking at this little peanut, it's hard to say no," Sarah agreed.

Sure enough, a little over a year later, I found myself in Billy's living room, holding his daughter in my arms.

"She's my best work," Billy murmured as he adjusted her blankets.

"I love the name, Vivian." I smiled as I looked down at her.

"Watch your fingers; she's a strong one," Tim noted as James bounced in front of his seat.

"She's going to be stubborn," Sarah agreed.

"Like her grandmother," I teased as I bumped my shoulder into Billy.

"And her godmother, hopefully. What do you say, Lil?" Billy asked.

"What?" I looked at Billy, then Sarah, then back to Billy.

"Tim has already graciously agreed to be her godfather, but Sarah and I would be honored if you would be her godmother," Billy explained.

"I would. I mean, yes, of course," I stammered as my gaze fell back to Viv. "And your first words will be Spice Girls," I added.

"Offer rescinded," Billy teased.

I visited a couple of times during Viv's two years and then met my godson for the first time.

"Meet Jackson." Billy placed Jackson in my arms and wrangled a wiggling Viv into his arms.

Billy's hazel eyes peer up from me and a calm eased into me and stole my breath. "My goodness, he is like a mini-you," I said to Billy.

"Yeah," Billy agreed as Viv bounced around his lap.

"You seem tired," I noted to Billy.

"Yeah, two kids," he agreed. "But I wouldn't trade them for the world."

"Where's Sarah?" I asked.

"Oh, she's around," he absently said.

I didn't press; I just turned my attention back to Jackson. Still, I could tell something was off. In our conversation, Billy let on to more of his frustrations. It was one thing for people to approach him or advance when he was out with Sarah, but he became fiercely protective when he was with his children.

"They just walked right up and started taking pictures of Viv like they knew us," he complained on the phone one day. "I'm just trying to take my daughter to the fucking park, and these people are just snapping pictures like they own my life."

"I'm sorry, Billy. I don't know what else to say. People suck." I was of no help. If I let him know that I'd be even more manic than he was about the situation, I'd only be fueling him, not defusing him.

"I just," he sighed. "I don't understand why it doesn't freak Sarah out. She shrugs it off like it's normal. Viv is three, and Jackson is barely one; don't they deserve privacy? Don't people get that?"

"They do, but..." I let my words drop out. My thoughts were still not going to help the situation.

"I know I chose this profession." His annoyance permeated his words. "I just thought people would have some decency. Jackson is one now; what about in a couple of years when I want to take him to a ball game or, worse, actually coach his ball team?"

"Or worse, what if you want to take Viv to a ballgame or coach her team?" I teased.

Billy sighed. "Not on topic, but point taken." He was silent for a moment. "I wish Sarah and I agreed about this. I wish I weren't the only one outraged."

I wanted to understand, but I lived an everyday life. I graduated from college, started a career, and bought a home. My life was quiet, but if I was honest, I always found myself gazing out the window of my suburban dream, hoping for something to light a spark. The passion that I witnessed in Billy never came to me.

Sam and I fit; that was our story. We grew together, building our careers and life. But our own cracks started to show when Sam wanted to try for children. For months, I found excuses for waiting, but we both knew the problem; I still didn't want children. Honestly, I didn't want any of the planned life. I was relieved when I found out I couldn't have kids, and Sam was crushed.