April's Glow

by Juliet Madison

  ‘Ha-ha! Are you trying to be a stripper or a cowboy?’

  ‘What do you want me to be?’

  ‘A stripping cowboy?’ She eyed him with raised eyebrows then burst out laughing. The sweetest sound filled the room.

  He stepped away from the sink and put even more momentum into his tea towel flinging, then attempted to lasso her. The tea towel landed around her neck, and he grabbed both ends, pulling her closer. ‘Gotcha,’ he whispered.

  Her laughter stopped, and she looked into his eyes. Then she gave him a brief, quick, courteous kiss on the cheek.

  ‘What was that for?’ he asked.

  ‘To say thanks. For encouraging me to write that letter to Kyle. I did it. Today.’

  He released her from the tea towel and she turned to the sink, picking up the cupcake baking tray to wash. ‘It helped. Like, really helped. So thanks.’ Her body faced the sink but she turned her head to look at him again.

  ‘My pleasure,’ he replied. ‘That was unexpected. And … nice,’ he said, touching his face where her lips had been. ‘I’ll never wash my cheek again!’

  April pointed the dishwashing brush at him, water dripping to the floor. ‘You’d better, or I’m not kissing it again!’

  He leaned in closer. ‘That’s okay, I can kiss yours instead.’ He pecked her cheek, warm and soft from laughter.

  ‘But what if I never wash mine again?’ she asked.

  He furrowed his brow and stroked his chin between his thumb and forefinger. ‘Then I’ll just have to kiss you somewhere else next time.’

  * * *

  She had no idea how to respond to that. Her heart wanted him to kiss her somewhere else, her body wanted it, but her head said ‘are you crazy?’ So she scrubbed the cupcake tray like mad. ‘These things are hard to clean,’ she said.

  ‘Here.’ He handed her a different brush with steel wool attached.

  ‘Thanks.’

  They washed everything and dried everything and exchanged only necessary information until everything was put away and the kitchen sink and counter cleared.

  April’s phone beeped with a text from her mum: How are things? Long time no speak. Call me for a chat when you can.

  She replied: All good, busy atm, call tomorrow.

  ‘Have you listened to any more music, April? Since the last time?’

  She turned to face him. ‘Music? Why do you ask?’

  He shrugged. ‘Popped into my head when I saw your phone.’

  She leaned her hand against the counter. ‘Just the one song,’ she said.

  ‘So nothing since?’

  ‘No, I mean, the same song. Over and over.’ She brushed her hair behind her shoulder. ‘I’m weird.’

  ‘All of me?’

  ‘You remember?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve been listening to that one too.’

  ‘It … I …’ It reminds me of you. ‘I just like it.’

  ‘Good,’ he said. Then a hint of a smile softened his face and he asked, ‘When was the last time you danced, Miss April Vedora?’

  ‘Danced?’ she asked. ‘Why do you want to know that?’

  ‘I’m curious. I like discovering random facts about people. I like asking weird questions. You know me.’

  I know you.

  Yes, she did. At what point did he cease to be just her neighbour? She didn’t know what they actually were … friends, she guessed, but even that didn’t seem to be an appropriate label for their bizarre relationship.

  ‘And I’m guessing if you haven’t listened to much music then you haven’t danced for a while.’

  She glanced down at her leg. ‘Not to mention the fact that I probably wouldn’t be the most coordinated dancer anymore.’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’ He folded the tea towel and hung it from the hook on the cupboard door.

  She widened her eyes at him. ‘Oh is that right? I’d like to see you try, with this piece of metal.’

  ‘Dancing is done from the heart, not the feet,’ he said, patting his chest with his palm.

  She crossed her arms. ‘I think a lot of professional dancers would disagree.’

  He crossed his arms too. ‘Oh, I think they would agree, that even if someone has expert technical skill, if there’s no heart and soul in it, it would miss that something special.’

  April uncrossed her arms and put her hands on her hips. ‘My wedding day.’

  He raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I would have danced at my wedding day. So my last time was at our rehearsal for the dance we were going to do.’

  He gave a slow, understanding nod. Then, he moved in front of her, up close, and gently lifted her hand. ‘We’re going to dance,’ he whispered. Before she could spurt forth an objection from her mouth, he pressed his finger to her lips.

  You know me too.

  Silently, he led her to the centre of the living room, switching off the kitchen light on the way, so that only the light from the cinnamon candle illuminated the room with its warm, orangey glow.

  Juliet lay curled up on the couch, but lifted her head sleepily as Zac took his phone from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table.

  When the familiar music filled the silence, April’s heart beat faster.

  No, no. I can’t do this.

  Not this song. My song. Our song.

  ‘Just one dance,’ Zac whispered, taking her hand again and holding it up to the side, putting his other hand on her waist. Heat from his skin spread along her arm and up into her body, as the music spread into her awareness, swirling and teasing like a breeze, lifting up stored emotions and flapping them around like leaves on a tree.

  Like in a trance, she lifted her other arm up and placed it on his shoulder, her hand barely big enough to fully grasp the roundness of the muscle.

  The lyrics began, and it was as though they’d been written for each other. Their connection, her attraction to him, it hadn’t dampened through familiarity and comfortable friendship as she’d thought. It was here, in full force. Calling to her.

  Whatever this was, it defied logic and reason. It just was. It sent her crazy and completely sane at the same time. It made her light-headed yet grounded all at once.

  April moved with Zac as he swayed slowly to one side, then the other side, and back again. Swaying, dancing, though her feet were still. It had been so long, but the emotional rhythm of the music and the heat emanating from his body melted her into submission; a sweet, slow surrender.

  When the chorus came she looked up, and his eyes watched hers, as though the words were being spoken without sound.

  Something shifted inside, like she’d trodden on a sandy hill and it had crumpled beneath her foot. There was no stability here, in this moment. Each beat of the song, each sway of her body, led her further and further into unknown territory.

  Zac’s hand moved from her waist, up, up, until it reached her face. She could feel the tingling warmth before he’d even touched her cheek. And then it was there. The backs of his fingers, trailing gently down her cheek.

  And his eyes. On her eyes. Like before when they’d done the experiment, only stronger.

  His breath was close, too close. Like he was breathing into her, and she needed it. His oxygen, his power. Him.

  His lips were almost on hers. Like his hand, she could feel them without touching them; hot, hungry … heaven.

  A small sigh escaped from within her as her lips lightly brushed against his. Not a kiss, but a touch, a hint of things to come.

  The song was about love, but this couldn’t be love. This wasn’t what love had felt like with Kyle. This was different, this was …

  A deep, sharp breath entered her lungs.

  This was stronger.

  And it was that realisation that made her move her face away from his, break free of his hold and dash out the door. It wasn’t only about the alcoholism now. If she were to have this and then lose it, for some unexpected reason, it would hurt more than anything else she had experienced. She couldn�
�t deal with that. She couldn’t risk it. She had to get out now before it had a chance to take hold of her completely.

  Chapter 19

  It was probably for the best that April had given Zac the silent treatment over the past two weeks. Not that she had completely ignored him, she’d sent a message saying she needed some space. She’d even finished reading the book and left it on his doorstep, this time without a poem, just a note saying it had really helped. Zac had just had to live out each day, counting them, waiting for D-day. And now it was here.

  He had done it.

  He had gone twelve months and reached the milestone he’d promised himself. Promised Johnny. He knew it didn’t mean he was magically cured, and that he could forget all the challenges had ever occurred, but it was important to him that he had reached that date without taking one little sip. And without giving in to other temptations.

  He rolled over in bed and looked at his strength tattoo. He stroked it with his finger, smiling.

  April’s face flashed in his mind.

  Reaching this date also didn’t mean he would magically be ready and able to start something with her, nor did it mean she would suddenly accept his past and the addiction that had once consumed him. But he felt free. Free to start making more progress in all areas of his life.

  He stood and stretched, the morning sun streaming through his blinds. No matter what happened or didn’t happen between them, this was going to be a good day. He was ready for it.

  And, he thought, as a realisation dawned … I am ready. Ready for her too. I have been all along.

  What he wasn’t ready for was the possibility that she may not want anything to do with him. And even if she did, would she ever trust him, trust life, or would she be forever watching him, waiting for the signs, looking for her father in every move he made?

  Those questions weren’t for now. Today was about him.

  He turned on his phone and returned his sponsor’s missed call.

  Then he looked at his wall calendar and instead of putting another cross on the day like he had on all the others before, he drew a big smiley face on September first.

  First thing on the To Be list: satisfied stomach. Time for bacon and eggs.

  His stomach grumbled as he prepared breakfast, and when he was indeed satisfied, he jumped in the shower and changed into jeans and a new t-shirt he’d ordered online to wear today. He laughed. He was starting to feel like a woman. But he’d wanted things to be new and different today, to signify the new beginning. And something else that would signify that new beginning was waiting for him outside.

  He went out to the back deck and eyed the two small trees he would be planting. One for him, and one to remember Johnny. He put on his gardening gloves and carried each to the area near the fence facing the street. He dug into the soil he’d prepared with mulch the day before, creating a small crater to plant the star magnolias. He removed each from its pot and carefully embedded them into the ground, keeping enough space between them to allow for their rounded shape to grow and develop fully. Juliet scurried around, sniffing the ground and then dashing off like some invisible creature had spooked her. Soon, she’d exhaust herself and find a shady place to laze the day away. He may even do the same.

  When both were planted and watered, he stood back with hands on hips and surveyed his new trees; a few small flowers already sprouted. They would bloom into a mass of white star-shaped flowers, reaching up and out. They would remind him to aim high, keep the hope alive, and remember how far he’d come. They would be his daytime stars, while at night he could gaze up at the sky through the telescope and watch the sparkling lights of the universe, shining down on him.

  Both small trees were roughly around the same size, though the one on the left was slightly taller. He remembered when he and Johnny had measured themselves and found to be the exact same height at one point. From then on it had become a competition as to who would grow faster and taller. They’d kept measuring themselves, and Johnny would try to stretch his body up as high as possible, but he never reached the same height as Zac again. Zac had had a growth spurt soon after and Johnny was always trying to catch up. ‘Yours can be the one on the left,’ Zac said out loud. ‘Maybe you’ll tower over me this time.’ He brought his hand swiftly to his forehead and saluted Johnny’s tree. ‘I’ll never forget you, bro.’

  Juliet dashed past his feet and up onto the deck, then leapt off the deck and onto the grass again. Zac turned around and watched her playing joyfully, and the slowly moving clouds in the perfect blue sky caught his eye. He gazed up, squinting, at one of the clouds, it had moved and morphed from what it had been a moment ago, but he could have sworn that it had resembled a smiling face. He smiled back, the sun warming his cheeks and the spring breeze washing away the last twelve months and delivering the promise of something new his way.

  * * *

  April smiled at Belinda as she left the store, excited about some big party she was attending that night. April’s plans were a simple dinner with Zoe and Lisa and Olivia, but this time, indoors. Zoe arrived at the store and when April closed up, they went to pick up some takeaway to bring back to April’s house.

  ‘You sure we can’t invite him over?’ Zoe asked, looking between the closed blinds of the kitchen window as she lifted one up.

  ‘Don’t spy on him! It’s his anniversary today, of going sober. I don’t want to disturb him.’ She’d ended up telling the others about his alcoholism.

  ‘But haven’t you at least congratulated him or anything?’ Zoe asked.

  ‘No, should I have? I don’t want to get in the way. He’s probably planned some ritual or meditation or ceremony to mark the occasion. And what would I do, send a card saying “Congratulations! Hope you have a wild night celebrating your sobriety!”?’

  ‘Just send a text,’ said Olivia. ‘Something simple.’

  ‘Yeah,’ agreed Zoe. ‘I’ll do it for you. Where’s your phone?’ She reached for April’s pocket.

  ‘Hey! I can text him myself.’

  ‘Well, no dessert for you until you do.’ Olivia held up the ice-cream container.

  ‘Pushy lot, you are.’ She found him in the text messages and typed: sorry it’s late but I wanted to say well done on achieving your 12-month mark. Hope you had a good day.

  She showed it to her friends and cousin. ‘There, happy?’

  Lisa grabbed the phone.

  ‘Lisa!’

  She typed something, and April grabbed it back a moment later. Her mouth dropped open on seeing the unsent message:

  Now that it’s been 12 months, can we please just get it on?

  The others peered at the screen and laughed. Zoe said, ‘Yes! Send it!’ but April deleted it.

  ‘Seriously, I think you’re over-worrying,’ said Zoe. ‘I get the whole alcoholic situation, but Ape, he’s different to your dad. Give him a chance.’

  ‘I promised myself. I promised my mother, that I would never get involved with an alcoholic, or ex-alcoholic, whatever you want to call him,’ she huffed. ‘Did you know that my mum takes anti-anxiety medication? She’s been overloaded with drama in her life with Dad, she doesn’t need to be worrying about me too. She’s had enough of that the past couple of years, and hey—why not add a man with a history of alcohol abuse into the equation! Daughter of the year, I’d be.’

  Olivia placed her hand on April’s arm. ‘Honey, but what do you want? This is your life, not hers.’

  Him. Simple as that. Him. But without the risk and uncertainty, which wasn’t possible. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘So you like him, but don’t want the drama, or the potential for problems down the track,’ said Zoe. ‘So do what I originally suggested and have a fling—no strings attached. He gets to break his drought, and you get this frustrated attraction out of your system so you can move on. Win-win situation.’ She gave a nod and crossed her arms.

  Her phone beeped:

  Thanks April.

  ‘Is that it?’ Zoe aske
d. ‘Is that going to be the extent of your conversation, and if the world ended tonight you’d be happy with that?’

  Hell no.

  ‘Interesting perspective,’ said Olivia. ‘Makes you think, doesn’t it? What would we do differently if the world was going to end tonight …’ She nibbled her bottom lip. ‘For starters, I’d have to say a teary farewell to you guys and get home to my beautiful daughter.’ Olivia took a sudden breath. ‘Oh God, why do I allow myself to think such awful things?!’

  ‘Because Zoe put the thoughts in your head,’ replied April. ‘And the world is not going to end tonight, so we don’t need to worry.’

  ‘I’d eat chocolate and binge watch one of my favourite shows,’ said Lisa. ‘Because I’d hate to die and miss out on finding out what happens next, that would be a disaster.’

  April laughed. ‘Priorities, huh?’

  Her cousin shrugged.

  If the world was to end … April would say goodbye to her friends and family, tell her dad she didn’t blame him, give Romeo the biggest of cat cuddles, and …

  She would go to Zac.

  Chapter 20

  Thankfully the world didn’t end the next day, and it was still alive and kicking a week later too. April was staying late at work on a Sunday, busy making plans for her store’s birthday celebrations for the next month. The discussions she’d had with the girls last weekend were losing their impact the more she immersed herself into every day life. But the fact that she was aware of this made her realise how often she’d done that throughout her life—distracted herself with busy-ness, to avoid dealing with the emotional issues, like was she ever going to not feel anything for Zac? Would she ever be able to move on? Or should she, like her friends had suggested, just get the whole thing out of her system? She also realised she must have learnt that distraction coping strategy from her mother; counteract each challenge with other, more ‘normal’ things.

  Maybe Zac was doing the same. She’d been courteous and friendly, but still kept her distance somewhat over the past week. And he hadn’t shown any signs of trying to get inside her head again, or win her over, or charm her with his cooking or wit. Maybe he was indeed moving on. Moving forward. Having realised that April was reluctant. And now that the twelve-month mark had passed, that enticing sense of the forbidden was gone. Perhaps that was all it had been between them up till now, something that thrived on temptation and the inability to give in to it.