“Great. That was nice of him.” I slipped into the back seat of his Honda, saying hello and buckling up. Paige and Milo chatted on the way and I spoke up when forced. The drive felt long and I spent most of it wishing I’d driven myself. Being with Paige was one thing. I could tell her if I felt uncomfortable and wanted to leave. Riding with Milo made me feel trapped, which was ridiculous.
I shouldn’t have even come.
Finally we arrived at the small bar/café near the University of Colorado, Boulder campus. Even after eight in the evening, the sun hadn’t quite dipped low enough to disappear. Milo parked, and once out of the car, I looked up at the orange sunset over the gorgeous Boulder mountain landscape. It looked like fire rising from the mountain. Paige stood next to me.
“Now that is why I live in Colorado,” she said. Milo joined us and we walked over to the Black Horse bar.
“Is anyone else you know coming?” I asked Paige. She shook her head.
“Not that I know of. Boulder’s a little far to drive.”
Tell me about it.
We went in and the place was about half full. Ben and the band were already setting up on a stage in the corner. Milo suggested we find a table near the band and order something to eat. I hadn’t eaten dinner, so food sounded like a great idea. We ordered drinks and appetizers to split; then Ben and the others came over to say hi. Ben sat down next to me and snagged a coconut-crusted shrimp.
“Hey.” Ben’s gaze lingered. “You look really great.”
Well.
I sipped my lemonade. “Thanks.”
He looked great too, though I didn’t say anything. His dark hair looked subtly styled to perfection. I liked his striped shirt and dark jeans. One worn, scratched silver ring graced the left finger on his right hand. Milo reached over and slapped Ben on the back, and they started talking, along with the bass player. Paige scooted closer as the waiter brought a second order of jalapeño poppers. The bar kept filling up with people as time ticked by. I knew the guys were supposed to start singing around nine.
“Nervous?” I asked, when the chatter at our table died down.
Ben shrugged. “Just enough to make me work for it.”
The space was getting warm. My palms suddenly felt sweaty, so I rubbed my hands on my jeans.
“I’m really glad you came,” he said in a low voice. I grabbed a napkin to wipe away the condensation from my glass.
“Me too.” Sort of.
“How’ve you been?” Ben asked, still talking quiet enough so that only I heard him.
I glanced over and the serious look in his eyes caught me off guard. The table was small, and we were all crowded around it, so Ben was close enough for our shoulders to brush every time either of us reached toward the platters of food.
“I’ve ... had some stuff going on.”
He raised an eyebrow. I wasn’t about to say anything about my new extra-curricular activity that involved seeing a shrink to process my ex’s engagement.
“I’ve been listening to your show every morning,” Ben said. I had a feeling that would happen. “Sounded like a couple of rough call-ins last week.” His eyes winced with empathy. My shoulders fell a bit without warning at the reminder of the Miss Lonely Heart calls I’d fielded lately. So many broken hearts and so much anger.
“Yeah.”
Karis motioned for Ben to come up to the stage.
“I’ve got to get up there.” He stood, then stepped back and leaned over, one hand on the table. “And, really, I mean it, Debra. You look great tonight.” He dipped his head. I watched him jog over to the stage and hop up on it. The drummer started to play, and Karis moved side to side, holding her microphone.
“So this is not a question,” Paige said, her voice in my ear. “Ben is into you.”
I shrugged her away and grabbed the last stuffed jalapeño. But the realization that he’d been tuning into the morning show every day struck me.
I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. Hearing me crack jokes with Andy and talk about celebrity gossip was one thing; Miss Lonely Heart was another.
The beat of the drums went through the bar and I could see heads bobbing and people clapping. Then Ben stepped up to the microphone, adjusting his guitar strap. He bit a red pick between his teeth as he tuned the guitar for a moment. Then that smooth voice emanated. He stomped his right foot, keeping in time, and started to play his guitar, fast but perfectly methodical. I moved with the music. I just couldn’t help it. Karis’s voice merged with his, and the sound filled the room, lighting up the crowd.
He stopped playing for a moment and cupped his hands around the microphone as he sang.
They sang “Ruin” for the third song, and I sat there, captured by the song and by the way Ben brought it to life.
“Deb?” Paige placed her hand on my shoulder. “Deb, here.” She pressed a napkin to my hand.
“What?” I jolted, blinking as I looked over at her. Then I realized I’d been crying. My face felt wet. I took the napkin, embarrassed.
“I’ll be right back.” I jumped up and found the restroom. Inside the tiny bathroom, I wiped my face and freshened up what little makeup I was wearing. Then I stared at myself in the mirror.
Get it together. Your boyfriend dumped you. So what? It’s happened to a million girls and will happen to a million more. So he’s marrying one of your former best friends. He’s forgotten all about you. You thought he loved you. He didn’t. Move on and stop being a loser.
The mirror wasn’t helping. I went back to the table. Paige and Milo both glanced at me with worry.
I felt ridiculous and embarrassed and wished I could leave.
Instead of sitting down, I glanced back over at the stage. Ben had the crowd on their feet in a moment, clapping in rhythm with the drums. Rather than face Paige and Milo, I started clapping too and fixed my attention on the band. Milo and Paige jumped up to join me. The small bar practically shook with sound, and somehow, in that moment when I felt so frustrated with myself, the music made me feel just a little bit better.
I ignored everything around me, kept my gaze on the stage, and listened to Ben sing.
The final song started right around eleven forty-five, and by that time, I was trying to keep from yawning. The song ended, and I grabbed my purse, ready to leave with Milo and Paige. We were just outside the bar when I heard Ben call out Milo’s name. The three of us turned around and Ben squeezed through the crowded door.
“Hey!” He panted. “Debra, would you ride back with me?”
Paige turned to look at me, her eyes like saucers. Milo grinned.
What. In. The. World.
“Um…”
“I have to help the guys finish loading the van, but I brought my jeep, so if you don’t mind waiting…” The three of them stood there, waiting for my answer. I was so tired that standing around while the band loaded up equipment sounded like the opposite of what I should be doing. I shot a glance in Paige’s direction and caught the glimmer of excitement in her eyes. The long ride back—just her and Milo.
“Okay,” I answered.
“Cool.” He gave Milo a chin-up. “See you later, man. Thanks so much for coming.”
Paige gave me a short, energetic hug that again told me she was way too excited for the fact that I was not riding with her and Milo, and I followed Ben back into the bar.
“Can I help?” I asked.
Ben shook his head. “We’ve got it. Just have a seat right by the stage and we’ll be ready soon.”
Okie dokie. I sat down, stifling another yawn. After a few minutes, Karis came and sat with me.
“We haven’t officially met. I’m Karis.” She pulled up a chair next to me and handed me a Styrofoam cup of coffee. I took it gratefully.
“I’m Debra. How on earth did you get coffee?”
She grinned. “I told James, the bartender, that the band would definitely need caffeine for the drive back. He hooked us up.” She blew the steam wafting up from her cup. “What did
you think of the show?”
“You guys were great. Every song was flawless.” I cupped my hands around the coffee cup, enjoying the warmth seeping through.
She smiled. “Ben brings the magic. But we all do our part.”
“How do you guys know each other?”
“We met through Bryce, who I met through Bryce’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Ben says you should have your own band eventually.”
Karis smiled. “He’s sweet like that. Maybe one day. This is really good experience for me right now, and it’s about all I can manage.”
“Oh?” I didn’t want to pry but I also didn’t want her to think I wasn’t interested in what she had going on.
Karis took another sip. “My mother has breast cancer. It’s been a rough year. I moved back home to help out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
After a brief moment, she shrugged helplessly. “Thanks. I know it’s kind of a downer to bring up in conversation, but it’s what’s real for me.”
I appreciated how she said it—just truth.
“Hey, Karis, you about ready?” One of the guys called over. Ben came up in the next minute, pushing his hair back and sliding on a ballcap. Those cappuccino-colored eyes of his met mine.
“Thanks for waiting, Debra. We can go now.”
Karis looked at both of us and smiled. “Nice talking to you. I’ll see you again, I’m sure.”
“It was nice talking to you too. Thanks for the coffee.”
Ben and I fell into step across the sidewalk and to the parking lot beyond. The moon lit up the night like a spotlight. We reached his jeep and I climbed into the passenger side. I told him where I lived and he plugged it into his GPS. Once we were well on our way back toward Denver and had chitchatted about how the gig had gone, Ben switched gears on topics. He asked about my job and where I’d gone to college. We traded history on where we were from. He was a native Coloradan but had been ice fishing in Minnesota once. Conversation stayed safe and light for most of the drive.
I looked over at him, his face forward. So handsome even in the darkness. We were quiet for a moment. An uncomfortable quiet, at least for me.
“Ben, why did you ask me to ride with you?” I had to ask.
“It’s a long drive back, you know, to make alone. I’m worn out, honestly. Company is good.”
Well, that sounded reasonable enough.
“I love your song ‘Ruin.’ What’s it about?” I asked.
“It’s about a lot of things, I guess. I think it’s Karis’s voice that makes the song seem so haunted. When I sing it without her, it’s not as effective.”
I shook my head. “It’s the lyrics, Ben. Not Karis. I mean, she helps. But the lyrics are haunting on their own. And when you drop into the lower register, it’s beautiful,” I told him. “When did you write it?”
“A long time ago. The words came to me completely, before the music, which is a little unusual for my style. I didn’t do anything with them for a while, but eventually I decided to put them to music. I had a few ideas on melody, but I was struggling. I gave the lyrics to Bryce and shared my ideas with him, and he helped me find the music.”
“Helped you find it?”
“It was in me. It needed to be drawn out.” Ben gave me a sideways glance. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I sense the music in you. I think you need help finding it.”
I don’t know why that touched me. He was wrong. I knew he was wrong, but for someone to care enough to dig for anything in me—well, I wasn’t too proud to appreciate that. “It’s gone, Ben,” I told him truthfully. “I don’t even want to find it.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“No. Don’t ask. I’m just—like I said, going through something right now. It’s private.”
“Okay.”
I looked out the side window until my eyes closed. The next thing I knew, Ben was poking my shoulder.
I jerked upward. He smiled. “We’re at your condo, Debra.”
“What?” I rushed to rub my mouth and smooth my hair.
“You fell asleep.”
I realized we were in the parking lot of my condo building and I unbuckled my seatbelt. “I get up really early, Ben. I’m usually wiped by nine o’clock.”
“I’m not complaining. You stayed up to hear Twenty-Four Tears. I’m honored.”
“I’m a fan, what can I say?” I hoped I wasn’t a fan with completely frizzy hair at that moment. I reached for the handle.
“Wait,” Ben said and I paused and looked at him. In that moment, part of me realized that most single girls would be totally up for being alone in a jeep with a guy who looked like a rock star and could sing like an angel. His side-swept dark hair and the angles of his face and the rough eleven o’clock shadow on his jaw, long brown lashes and perfectly formed lips—sadly, lost on me. Rather than hoping for romance, I fell asleep. Despite his good looks and his overall sex appeal (that I was fairly certain a worship pastor shouldn’t have), I wanted nothing from him. Nothing from anyone.
“Are you doing anything Sunday afternoon?” Ben asked. “I’m going hiking. Want to go with me?”
“Sunday? I don’t think so. Thanks for the invite, though.”
I got out of the car and blinked in surprise when Ben got out as well.
“I’ll feel better if I walk you to the lobby at least,” he said, walking forward, letting me know it wasn’t up for negotiation. We walked inside together and stopped by the water fountain.
“I’ve been thinking about ‘Ruin.’ I told you that song came to me fast,” Ben said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and shaking his keys. “You know how I told you it’s about a lot of things?” I nodded. “Well, it’s about something that I … I don’t like to talk about.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t.
He didn’t respond for a moment, then looked at me, straight in my eyes, and gosh, there was so much depth. He was a guy with layers upon layers.
“I want to. I …. had an older sister named Sadie. She was three years older than I was and she died her first year of college. A car accident, she and some friends were out, and she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt, and a drunk driver hit them. I can’t really explain how that wrecked me. Sadie was everything. Losing her was the catalyst to a lot of bad choices on my part. I went to college and just—tried to be someone else for a while.”
“I’m so sorry.” I could barely hear my own voice. The rushing water behind us sounded louder, or maybe it was just me, hypersensitive since the conversation had taken such a turn.
“There are a lot of ways to read those lyrics. But the truth is, I wrote it for Sadie. The fact that it reaches you—that you connect to it—I just—” He stared into my eyes, searching for the right words. “I saw you crying tonight when I sang the song. That matters to me. Of course, any writer is glad when people connect with their message. But that song especially …” We were alone in the lobby, with only that sound of running water and a faint smell of citrus air freshener around us, and suddenly I felt very nervous.
Was Paige right? Did Ben like me? What was going on here? Nothing felt romantic. Even at that moment, I felt too numb for romance. I didn’t want it. Couldn’t want it. Not when Luke still haunted my dreams. I hoped Ben didn’t like me; I’d hate for him to start down a road of inevitable disappointment. With all his friends, with how likable he was—I didn’t doubt he could find a more suitable girl, someone sure of herself, a woman of faith, someone ready and eager to be the partner he needed. Why in the world did he want to hang out with me? Was I a charity case to him? Why would he confide in me?
“Would you—reconsider about hiking Sunday? I’m leading worship that morning, but after, I could pick you up whenever you wanted.” His voice was small and hopeful.
I didn’t see how I could say no after he’d shared something so personal with me. That seemed almos
t cruel.
I said yes.
Chapter Five
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
Les Misérables
Saturday morning was my nana’s birthday. A reminder on my phone popped up, telling me to call her. I pulled up her contact info and clicked on her name before even getting out of bed. I sang her “Happy Birthday” as soon as she answered.
“Debbie!” She giggled with delight at the sound of my voice. “How’s my girl?”
At the sound of her giggle, I couldn’t help but grin. “I’m fine, Nana. What fun plans do you have for your birthday?”
“Well, let’s see. Mary and I are going to get our hair done in about an hour. Then we’re going out for lunch. Then I’m going to your parents’ house for dinner tonight. I expect there will be a cake.”
Nana and Mary had met as young moms and had stayed friends through thick and thin. For a few years, Mary had moved to Kansas for her husband’s job. I remember how thrilled Nana had been when work brought them back to Minnesota.
“Nana, how long has Mary been your best friend?”
“Good grief. Four decades or more. Over the years, friends have come and gone, of course. She and I hold to each other. I’ve never needed lots of friends. Just one good one is enough.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“Now you, little Miss Social Butterfly, growing up, you always had a pack of friends. When you were small, and then when you got older. I remember all those sleepovers you used to have. You were the life of the party.”
She was right. I’d thrived on friends and activities and a busy schedule—and I’d cried whenever I felt left out of anything.
“Other than social media online, I don’t really keep in touch with hardly anyone from high school, much less farther back than that. I can’t think of one special friend I’ve held on to for that many years. I’m glad you have Mary.” I snuggled down deeper under my comforter, my hair splaying out behind my head on my pillow.
“Well, it seems to me that when you moved to Texas, you had a good group out there. You must miss those people.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I stared up at the ceiling. “I do miss them, but I’ve made new friends.”
After the Rain Page 5
