by Jo Noelle
On their way to the couch, Elena’s phone buzzed with a text. She slipped it out of her pocket to set it on the table, but saw in the preview that it was from Tug. It said, “Emergency. Need you at the store. Come now.”
“I’ve got to go. Sorry.” No! “I’ve got to go. Something at the store. Will I see you later?”
He kissed her slowly. They felt like summer breeze—easy and welcome. Chase answered. “Definitely.”
Elena left reluctantly, but Tug never demanded anything. It had to be important. She tried to call, but it went to voice mail. When she got near the store, Tug was waiting for her at the entrance to the parking lot. Pacing. She looked toward the windows. They seemed fine. No police cars were there. She rolled down her window. “What’s wrong?”
Tug leaned inward. “Your mother’s in the shop.”
Had she really heard him right? Her stomach dropped. It was bad enough to have heard her voice on the phone. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to see the woman at all.
“You want me to make her leave?”
Did she? Part of her sure did. Still, Elena was a grown woman and not that wounded child whose mother had abandoned her. She could meet her on her own terms.
“You have the right to refuse service to anyone, Elena. Just say the word.”
Elena found she wasn’t curious about her. Since she’d called her earlier and now she’d just shown up, Elena wanted to put this in the past. “Tell her to meet me at the coffee shop. I’ll talk to her there.” She could see Tug hesitate, then touched his cheek. “You’re my best friend. Thanks for taking care of me, but I’d like to get this over with.”
She parked between Sketchy Ink Tattoo Parlor and the coffee shop. It would take a minute or two for her mother to get there. Enough time for Elena to order and choose a table close to the door in case she wanted to leave early. Her pastry and coffee came just as a woman walked through the door and approached her table.
“Are you Elena?” she asked.
Elena nodded. She had expected a bit of warmth from her mother, but her face was impassive. Elena had to fight an impulse to get up and leave.
“I’ll just order then come back.”
Did she really want to do this now? Maybe not, but here she was. I’ve got this. She took a sip. Elena searched her mind for a topic. She didn’t have anything to say. She wasn’t curious about the woman at all.
Her mother returned and sat across from her. “I guess I didn’t know what to expect. You’re a grown woman.”
“It’s been twenty-one years.”
“Well, I really don’t have a good reason for not contacting you.”
At least that was true. Elena was glad the woman wasn’t going to lie to her. Still the words were flippant.
“I thought maybe we could at least see each other once.” Her mother’s coffee arrived, and she took a sip. “I was a little surprised to see you father’s store was still there.”
Elena didn’t know why, but she felt like her mother shouldn’t even speak about her dad. “It’s my store now.” And seeing each other once sounded like it would definitely be enough.
The woman nodded. “I don’t expect you to call me mom. My name is Mitzi. You probably knew that. It’s Perez now.”
Elena doubted that she’d need to call her at all. It surprised her a little how she was repelled by the woman being there. Elena felt like a traitor.
Mitzi put down her mug. “Do you have a husband or family?”
“No, I’m not married.” Elena wondered if she were sitting here with anyone else, would she offer information or reciprocate with questions? Probably. This was just too weird. Do I even want her in my life at all? Immediately she began arguing with herself. I guess she is my biological parent, but she left us. She’s making an effort now, but she left us!
“You know your father and I divorced. I couldn’t come back to see you. He was so controlling.”
Elena wondered at that. Her dad wasn’t the controlling type.
“He was so demanding. Where had I gone? Who was I with? Were there men there?”
Elena wondered if her mother had stepped out on her dad. She doubted he was controlling, just looking for loyalty. She could definitely see that. Her dad had an admirable sense of loyalty. She didn’t know if it came from his military service or if his military service benefitted from it already being there. Either way, her mother was a liar.
“He stopped being the man I fell in love with. He put on pounds and didn’t want to go dancing very often. I couldn’t stand it one minute longer. So I left.” She traced the top of her mug with a finger. “I’m not really back, but I was curious how you turned out.”
Elena still wasn’t curious about the woman, but she found she did have a question. “Do I have siblings?”
Mitzi’s eyebrows rose and then she said, “Yes. I remarried as soon as the divorce was final. You have a brother. ”
“Where does he live?” “Right now, he’s in Merced, California. He’s in the Air Force.”
That might be the only good thing that came out of meeting Mitzi if she decided to contact him. “I don’t really think I’m ready to add a family relationship.”
Mitzi was on her feet. “I’m not sure I want one either.” She dropped a business card on the table. “Look me up of you ever want to.” Then she left.
Elena left it sitting on the table when she left too.
8
Chase Dermott
Chase’s guitar was still leaning against the couch. He lifted it to his lap and began plucking notes. It felt selfish, wishing Elena had stayed here instead of going to the pawn shop. Today was the day he was going to come clean about his music, the band, everything. A thought pinched the back of my mind—she hadn’t kissed him until after he’d played that song at the bar. But that thought paled out. It was his own history that haunted him. Elena wasn’t like that, and he didn’t want his secrets to push him away from her. He wanted her to be part of his life, and for him to be a part of hers. Things seemed rough for her at her business—maybe there was a way he could help.
He set down his guitar and traded out his guitar for his dad’s ’77 Strat, then plugged it in and returned to the couch. It was the instrument his dad had played as he taught Chase, and that Chase played through high school and into college. The strings and frets were comfortable under his fingers, reminding him to love the music. That’s what this break has been about—did he still want to be in a band? Did he want to tour? Did he still love it enough? Yeah. Leaving it behind would be like ripping an arm off. He could still live, but it would be a shadow of what he had before.
His dad had been curiously silent during his dilemma. It was the first call he’d made. Part of him had hoped that his dad would tell him what to do. Although his dad knew what Chase was trying to decide, he only said that he thought Chase would figure it out. His dad had been in a band in the eighties, opening for groups with hits on the charts, touring with them. Then one day he walked away from it to marry Chase’s mom, have a family, and raise a bunch of kids scrambling around in a music store. Chase could see Elena as the kind of woman who would be hard to leave. It was the same dilemma his parents had had decades ago. He wondered if their answer to it would be different. Elena didn’t seem like the type to ask him to give up his dreams either.
His fretting hand began to play a warmup he’d always stated with when he played with his dad. Chase’s fingers moved slowly and rhythmically through the progression up and down the A scale, then D and G, each one rolling into the next. For the second round, he picked up the tempo. On the third set, he threw in trills and slides. Finally, Chase transitioned into licks, playing the repetitive notes but changing up the position, moving up or down the fretboard to vary the phrases.
The liquid melodies absorbed him—this was a place where he didn’t have to think. So he didn’t, except about Elena’s eyes smoldering with desire, her hands on his face, her lips moving against his. The music morphed to reflect times they�
�ve been together—their first meeting, walking me along the trail, shopping for antiques, takeout chicken on his back deck, Frisbee, an all-night movie marathon, walks, shopping, hanging out—every moment had its own soundtrack. He slipped out of time and played memories of her.
Chase was jolted out of his bliss by what sounded like someone trying to pound down his front door. He checked to see who was there—the Giant. Tug was about to knock again when Chase swung the door open.
“D’you tell her?” He barked the question.
Chase searched his mind for what that might mean. Nothing. “Wanna come in?”
“If you mess with her, you mess with me. Does she know you’re the lead guitar for Ash Canyon?” Chase was caught off guard and didn’t answer so Tug continued. “It weren’t hard to run a Google search once I had your name—plenty comes up. She’s got some bad history with musicians. You look like some bad history too.”
“No. I mean, I will. I was going to today, but she left.” Chase’s phone started ringing, and he checked it to see who was calling. Dean, the lead vocal of their group. Chase sent the call to voicemail and turned back to Tug. “I don’t know if I should go see her or wait for her to call.” Now Chase’s phone buzzed with a text. It was also from Dean. All it said was, “HOT” and gave a link to something on TMZ.
I’ll check it later.
“I’ll text her to see if we’re still on for our date tonight. I’ll tell her tonight. I won’t break her heart.” Chase straightened up, meeting Tug eye to eye. “Is that all?”
Chase’s phone buzzed again before Tug answered. This time, Dean sent a picture of Elena in an orange bikini. This was bad. The phone buzzed again, and the picture looked like Chase was drunk, draped over Elena. He recognized that it had been taken on their way to urgent care. Chase set his phone on silent. Sasquatch cannot see these pictures or I’m a dead man. “I’ll call her now.” His voice held the same intensity as the ache in his heart. He would not lose Elena over this. “Thanks. Bye.”
Tug finally left, and Chase called Elena. It went straight to voicemail. Whoever took those pictures was patient, and must have enjoyed having an exclusive on the past few weeks of his life. Chase worried that now the pictures had been sold and posted, every photographer with a mortgage to pay would storm Peak City for some shots. He grabbed his keys and jumped into his car. In fact, he knew they would. This was why he’d wanted to live in Peak City. This was the part of the music he hated.
When he approached Treasure Mountain Pawn, a photofest was waiting on the sidewalk, but he could see the “Closed” sign in the window, so he flipped around in the parking lot across the street and drove to Elena’s house.
Chase parked in the driveway and got out. A police officer was standing sentinel just off the porch steps. Chase recognized him. “Aiden,” he called out as he approached.
When the photographers ran over to catch up with Chase, Aiden yelled, “Do not step on the private property.” Chase looked to see if he was also speaking to him. He hadn’t been, but then he turned on Chase and said, “It’s Officer Thomas to you.”
Chase wondered if he’d keep him from coming on the property too, and the look on his face said he wished Chase would do something to provoke him. Chase stood by his car for a few minutes wondering what he should do and what he’d say to Elena.
Another car drove up beside his. Sienna and Zara hopped out. Their expressions were thunderous. Sienna took out a tube of lipstick and wrote “Loser” on Chase’s front window.
Officer Thomas let them pass then stepped back into the middle of the sidewalk.
It was half an hour later when Elena’s friends left, and she stood in the doorway. He had to see her. He could give it all up for her. His happiness didn’t require an audience, just her. Music could be a part of what they had together. He knew she loved it too. He had to hold her. He wanted to stop the pain he’d caused. He had to explain. Apologize.
9
Elena Maurell
“What are you doing here?” Elena shouted from her doorway. ”Shouldn’t you be practicing for your next tour?” His mouth dropped open, but Elena continued before Chase could think up new lies to tell her. “Yes, I know about it. It was too much to hope that you’d get here before I found out who you are, or about the pictures online, or before photographers jamming the street in front of my home.”
Officer Thomas shouted from the curb, “Do you want him off your property?” His hands tightened into fists at his sides. It was obvious he’d like an excuse to rip into Chase.
“No. I’d like to hear what he thinks is a good reason for lying to me.”
Chase took that as permission to go to the house and walked up the sidewalk. “Can we talk about it?” He looked over his shoulder toward the reporters who were capturing this in play by play notes and video. “Inside?” He tried to walk around her to go in, but Elena blocked his way.
His eyes plead with her, and for a moment, she wanted to step aside. She wanted him to hold her until all the pain went away. She wanted him to say that they could have a future together. Her heart squeezed with old hurt right alongside the new. She’d been left behind before—too many times.
It was better to end this today than to watch it fizzle into disappointment and regret later. “I think the best thing for me right now is for them,” her finger swept from side to side toward the photographers. “. . . to catch our breakup from every possible photogenic angle. In fact, get off my porch. You can tell me from down there.” Where he was safely out of the distance for her to reach out and touch his face just once more.
He stepped back down onto her sidewalk. His voice wasn’t steady, and his jaw clenched like he was holding back strong emotions. “I didn’t lie to you. I told you I was between jobs right now, and I am a partner with my dad in a music store and our family’s ranch.”
This was the moment of decision. It was like standing on the top of that narrow trail again. Turning either way could kill her, and she had to decide to go forward or back. I choose to move forward. “Of course. Most people would naturally think that “jobs” and “concerts” are synonymous,” she yelled as her fists dug into her waist. Blood pumped through her veins at roaring speeds, and she second-guessed her decision.
“Guilty,” Officer Thomas said.
Elena flashed him a look that she hoped said “Stay out of it” and continued with Chase. “What was this really, because it seems like you used me for a publicity stunt.”
Over the top of her neighbor’s fence, several cameras angled toward her or Chase. Let them get all of this. Her eyes stung with the betrayal, but if he wanted publicity, here it was in full color. “This ought to be worth a front page somewhere for about ten minutes.” She swiped some traitorous tears from her cheeks. She didn’t know if she were more hurt or angry.
He didn’t trust me. He didn’t want me to know who he really was because that would be inconvenient for his image. Same song—different guy. “So when your real life starts up again, you’re out of mine.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “That begins now,” she whispered, then stepped back into her house and shut the door.
With her back against the door, her legs gave away and she slid to the floor. She hugged her knees and dropped her head down. Like the pendulum on a clock, her thoughts swung one way and then the other—keep him in your life—cut yourself loose before he can break your heart—run and catch him before he leaves. But it was too late. Sorrow nearly choked her. She swallowed hard, but it did no good, and she gave in to a long cry.
When she stood again, she looked out the gauzy curtains of her front window. Chase’s car was still in the driveway. He was sitting behind the steering wheel with the door open and one boot on the ground. Then she noticed Tug in the passenger seat. Thanks, Tug. Rip him up!
Several minutes later, Tug came in and pulled her into the bear hug she really needed. After a quiet moment, he smoothed her hair and said, “Get some rest, Laynie Loo. Tomorrow will be better.” She
hadn’t heard his nickname for her in years, and it felt good resting on her heart.
“Why were you talking with Chase?” she asked.
“Just tryin’ to fill in best I can for your dad.” He tightened his arms again then released her, adding, “We have all the people we need in life. Some’ll love us. Some’ll hurt us. All of ’em teach us.”
Elena’s phone dinged.
Sorry I left like that. I’m going to make it up to you. Mom.
Elena wished her phone wasn’t part of the business, so Mitzi couldn’t have found the number.
A while later, Mitzi showed up with tissues and ice cream and waved to the cameras. And apparently she saw the story trending. Elena watched her through the lace curtains as Mitzi made kissy faces and posed outside the door—like they were there for her. Well that’s her pathetic fifteen minutes of fame.
Elena opened the door. “I don’t know you. Get out of my life.”
When the door slammed, Elena realized she was back where she started with the people in her life who had always been there for her. But there was a bit out of her heart to, where she’d made room for someone—and he was gone.
It was actually great hanging out at home for a couple of days. At least she said that several times a day. Her friends came over and watched movies with her, and Tug took care of the store. It was like a mini vacation except that she felt miserable most of the time.
On Monday, Sienna dragged her out of the house for breakfast. The reporters had given up and left. Elena felt human to be walking around town again. Aiden was paying for his meal as the women walked into the cafe.
“Glad to see you around,” he said to Elena.
“I’m fine.” Or she thought in time she would be. She saw him reach out and turn the newspaper on the counter over. “What’s that?”
“Just the paper,” he answered.
Elena put her hand out. What was it he didn’t want her to see? When he placed it in her hand, she read the title. “Hiker Dies on Glacier Gorge Trail.”
