by Marilyn Grey
I stood in front of the painting of Matt and Lydia. “Well, I’ll start here. Keep these as we take them down. I want to give them back to the artists.”
“Okay.” Dee started at the other end of the shop. “So, what are you doing next?”
“You know what, Dee? I have no idea. I’m letting this place go. Letting my past go. And I’m just going to wake up tomorrow and see what the day has for me.”
“That sounds nice, but you need another job.”
“I know. I am considering moving away from Philly, using the money I’ve saved to start another company. Not sure what. Something different. Something opposite of running a coffee shop.”
“Understandable.”
Together we lifted all of the art work off the walls until we reached each other. The bare walls spoke of a newness I couldn’t describe. Thoughts warred against each other in my mind though. Constant tug-of-war between excitement and sadness. I spent the last decade standing in front of a door, admiring the beauty of what I believed I’d see if I walked inside. Finally my moment came. The door creaked and a slight breeze blew it open. The inside didn’t look as beautiful as I imagined, but before I could really see inside the door slammed in my face. Locked. Never to be opened again.
There’s an excitement when you walk away from such doors. You know they’re closed forever and you walk away looking up again. You spent so long staring at the door, wondering what lived inside, that you forgot about the trees, the clouds, the sunlight casting shadows on the earth. And a new excitement birthed inside of me. An excitement as I walked from the door and saw the beauty I missed for so long.
But with that came a heaviness. A deep ache. Lost in a swirling mix of emotions, I knew the truth as much as I didn’t want to. Dreams die, yes, I saw that now. But it took all I had to not allow hope to die along with them.
Dee and I spent the entire day closing down the shop. A few people knocked on the door, asked what happened. We explained and they went on their merry way. Seconds after we flipped the light switch to call it a night we heard another knock at the window. A sleek woman and a cameraman stood outside, waving, smiling.
“Oh, great,” I said, not budging.
Dee opened the door. “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes, we’d like to interview Ella about the shop and what she plans to do next.”
I inched toward the door. “Why not broadcast the losing hand to the entire casino?”
Dee laughed. “Go for it.”
I walked outside and introduced myself.
“This is going to be live,” she said. “So try to speak quick and to the point. We don’t have much time.”
“Remind me why this is interesting enough for the news?” I said as she flipped my hair in front of my shoulder.
“Anything is. It’s a story. Stories are always interesting.”
I’ll give her something really interesting, I thought. “Here’s to you, Patrick.”
“Ready?” she said, cuing the camera guy and holding the speaker in her ear.
Ch. 24 | Matthew
Lydia wanted to spend the next few days enjoying each other and not rushing into wedding plans, but I couldn’t help it. We sat on my couch, her body tucked under my arm and her legs wrapped around my legs.
“Let’s get married in the spring. It’s only a few months from now. Gives us enough time to plan.”
“Okay.” She waved her finger at me. “But nothing extravagant. I don’t want a ton of people and a big party. This is our love we’re celebrating and only people who have been supportive and part of our story should be there.”
“I agree. A small, intimate wedding sounds better anyway. I don’t want to walk away feeling exhausted that night.”
Gavin walked in the door, suit and tie and everything. “Look at you two love birdies, chirping away.”
“Hey, Gavin,” Lydia said.
“How was your day?” I chimed in. “Did you get the job for the theatre?”
“Don’t know yet.” He slumped into the couch across from us, loosened his tie, and flicked on the television. “Long day. Wondering with you two lovebirds leaving the nest soon if I should find a new tree to live in.”
“Where would you go?” Lydia said.
“No idea. I guess I’d be like Gump. Just start running.”
“That would be interesting.” I said, then noticed a familiar face on the television screen. “Hey, look.”
“We’re here tonight with Ella Rhodes from Chances. This is her last night at the cafe. And not too long ago it was her first. This entire block will soon be bought out and turned into yet another parking garage. Ella, do you plan on relocating?”
“I don’t have any plans.”
“What made you start this place? Is it sad to see it turned into a parking garage so soon?”
“A little. Years ago I came to this cafe as a customer. I sat down by the window right here.” She pointed behind her. “And I saw a young man at the time who caught my eye and had kept my heart since. I fell in love with him without ever speaking to him. When I started Chances I did so in hopes of seeing him walk in the door one day and into my life.”
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
“And what happened?”
“He walked back out. I escorted him to the door and back to the woman he’s meant to be with, which isn’t me. We were set up on a blind date after he became a familiar customer here and after seeing how much he loved this girl and didn’t remember me, I had to let him go. Just like I have to let Chances go, too.”
I looked at Gavin. Lydia looked at me. Standing up, I covered my mouth with my hands. I knew Ella looked familiar. My heart flopped around my chest like a fish out of water.
“Lydia,” I said. “It’s not what you think.”
I looked at Gavin. His eyes were glued to the screen. Glued to the story unfolding in front of us. We waited the last ten years to turn the page.
The news segment ended. Ella’s face disappeared. Replaced by two make-upped faces sitting at a desk, mesmerized with the story Ella told. The story that seemed too unreal to be real.
But it was real.
“Gavin?”
Eyes still on the screen, he wiped a single tear from his cheek.
“I’ve been waiting ten years for this moment,” he said, then ran right out the front door and out of view.
I looked at Lydia. “We have to follow him. Ella is the girl he’s been waiting for. They saw each other across the coffee shop years ago. I mean, years ago. He hasn’t talked about her much. Didn’t want to get his hopes up. That’s definitely her. And the fact that she started Chances just to see him again. I can’t believe this.”
“Let’s go.” Lydia stood. “I can’t miss this. I think I’m going to cry, too.”
We made our way out of the apartment building and to the busy city street. The evening sun painted the buildings gold. A perfect night.
We jogged to catch up to Gavin, but didn’t see him. Finally, out of breath, Lydia and I stopped in front of Chances. I tugged the door. Nothing. Lights out. A cafe once filled with the aroma of coffee and signs of life, now vacant.
“There he is,” Lydia said, pointing across the street.
Leaned up against a building, Gavin shook his head. We waited for cars to clear and crossed the street.
“Hey, don’t look so down,” I said. “You forgot she still has your artwork and probably plans to return it to you.”
“How? She doesn’t have my address.”
“Good point.”
Lydia tapped my shoulder. “Can’t you call Dee? Or Sarah?”
Gavin grabbed Lydia’s arms and kissed her cheek. “Brilliant. Why didn’t we think of that?”
“I really have no idea.” She smiled and linked her fingers with mine. “Silly men.”
Gavin searched his phone for Sarah’s number and called five times in a row. No answer. I tried Dee. Five times. No answer.
“Wait a secon
d. I have Ella’s number.” I looked at Gavin’s bright face. “But she thinks I’m you. No wonder she hasn’t responded to my texts since we met.”
“Give me your phone,” he said. “I want to call her myself.”
I handed it to him, but Lydia swiped it. “That is not the way you want to go about this. Trust me. We have her number. We can get in touch with her. Let’s make this more romantic than an awkward phone call.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Just as long as it doesn’t beat my proposal.”
“It’s a good idea, but I can’t wait that long. I’ve waited years for this. Kept everything bottled inside like a shaken soda can about to pop. It’s killing me. I have to see her right now.”
Lydia gave the phone to Gavin. We looked at each other as he dialed the number. The setting sun reflected in her eyes.
I kissed her eyelids. “I love you, Lydia Rae.”
“I love you too, Matthew.”
She snuggled into my chest as I ran my fingers down her arm and stopped at her hand.
Gavin gave me the phone. “Her phone is turned off.”
“Now what?” I said.
“I have to find her. Keep your phone on. I’m going this way. Seriously, I’m going to search this city until I find her. If you see her, call me right away. Don’t tell her about me though. I want to be the one to say it. Just keep her there until I come.”
“And if you find her?”
“I’ll be back from Vegas by Thursday. Don’t wait up for me.”
Lydia laughed. “I hope you’re not serious.”
Gavin jogged out of sight. I’ve never seen such joy in his face as I did that night.
“We have to find her first,” Lydia said.
“Why?”
“Because I have to see this. It’s too good to be true.”
I touched her cheek and pushed her hair behind her ear, then leaned in and whispered, “This is too good to be true, too.”
She never stopped smiling as we walked Philadelphia streets until our feet practically fell off our ankles. The sun set on us as it rose on another love story. The streets, now lit artificially, guided us back to my apartment.
I pulled the front door open for Lydia and the phone rang. We stopped. My hand fell from the door and reached in my pocket.
“Hey, Dee,” I said. “You’ll never believe this.”
“This better be good. You called five times in a row.”
“It is good. Very good. Listen, do you know about the guy Ella created Chances for?”
“Yes. I believe you may not remember, but it just so hap—“
“No, Dee. It’s not me. It’s Gavin.”
“But she said she remembered your shoes. The Converse ones.”
I laughed. “Of course. And that may be true, because the night Gavin saw her in the cafe I happened to be standing right beside him.”
“What kind of weirdo wears the same shoes for ten years?”
“A boring story for a rainy day. Right now, we need to find Ella. Gavin is searching Philadelphia for her as we speak.”
“Wow. This is amazing. Okay, well, here’s the problem. We just went out to eat and I think she’s probably already at her apartment by now. She said she wanted to walk home to get her car and drive to the beach to watch the sunrise. Something she used to do in her past and hasn’t done in a while. She’s trying to live a little, I guess. Her heart is broken. She thinks it was you.”
“I know. Alright, when does she plan to come back?”
“Tomorrow, I guess.”
“Where does she live? Can you give me her address?”
“I’m not sure. It’s that really pretty building. Almost looks like a hotel. It’s not far from the shop.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“What?”
“All this time she has practically lived right next door to us. I bet she could hear my piano when I left the window open.”
I hung up with Dee and called Gavin immediately, told him what happened, and asked him to please try to get some sleep tonight.
“Definitely ain’t gonna happen.”
“Are you going to drive to the beach?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re probably running full speed back here to get your car, aren’t you?”
“About to.”
He hung up and I put my phone back in my pocket. Lydia and I said our goodbye’s. I begged her to stay longer, but she had to work early.
Ch. 25 | Ella
I finished my interview, closed up the shop, and Dee and I walked to a restaurant to meet up with Sarah for dinner. We talked about nothing important, per my request. I had enough people asking questions already. I knew I’d get a call from someone in my family asking me why I had to be so rash and close down the shop before the settlement was confirmed. Hence the turned off phone. I wanted to move on. Just be done. And that’s all there is to it.
Dee, Sarah, and I parted ways after dinner. Sarah decided to drive to her boyfriend’s house. Mystery man. Dee walked to her apartment in the opposite direction. So thankful for all of her help. We packed the entire shop up in one day. Everything I wanted to keep fit in my car, along with the paintings I needed to try to return.
I decided to walk home, get in my car, and drive to the Jersey shore. Alone. Like old times.
On my way back home I passed Chances. Emptied. I stopped and pressed my face against the glass where it said Chances in white script.
The violin someone purchased for me sat in a box by the counter. I forgot.
I pulled out my key one last time and opened the door, walked inside, and sat on a chair in the middle of the room. Bare walls. Kind of like my life. Anything goes now, I thought. Where will life take me?
I walked to the counter and picked up a piece of paper, wrote something, and taped it to the window with packing tape.
Sometimes when you take chances you lose chances. And sometimes when you lose chances, you gain something else. Don’t live for chances. Sometimes it's better to lose chance and gain purpose. Live for today. You’ll find so much more joy.
Kind of a note to myself, to be honest. But I figured so many people saw me on the news and it couldn’t hurt to inspire them a little. I wasn’t as depressed as I probably came across on television.
Or was I?
I turned back to the violin case, picked it up and took the instrument out, then ran my fingers along the strings and stopped at the neck. Some strange fear still lived inside of me. Fear of failure. Fear of chasing dreams after killing the life of another person. A little boy. Fear of placing the violin on my shoulder, running the bow across the strings, and not being able to play a single note like I could before.
I sat down facing the counter, put the violin to my shoulder, and waited.
The clock on the wall haunted me with its rhythm, begging me to add a melody. A melody from the past.
“Okay, clock,” I said. “I will play something for you, but not a melody from the past. A melody from the future. And yes, I’m going to be hopeful. Bear with me here.”
I picked up the bow and straightened my shoulders. I started soft and low, shaky, then found myself in the midst of the beautiful, soft sound of Pachelbel’s Canon in D. Back and forth, back and forth. I closed my eyes. Let my fears go. Saw Parker’s face and tried to imagine him running around in the grass, blowing bubbles and popping them as they fell. I played with more passion than ever before. The song swelled. Echoing and bouncing off the walls. Filling me with something I hadn’t felt in so long.
Something I couldn’t even describe.
The song picked up pace. I loved this part. So beautiful. I imagined myself walking down the aisle. To someone else. Someone even better. White dress trailing behind me. Veil covering my face. A tall, dark-haired man smiling at the altar. Waiting for me. For us. For our life together.
Someone knocked on the window.
I stopped. Turned. Violin still in my hands, I saw a man outside holding a small piece of
paper against the window, covering his face. A little scared, I walked toward him with the bow and instrument dangling at my sides. Not sure who looked crazier, him or me.
I could barely read the small letters on the note. I squinted.
The best things come to those who wait.
Confused, I peeked around the note to his face.
His face. His eyes. His smile. The same smile. The same eyes. The same face. From all those years ago.
I dropped the violin and the bow. I tried so hard not to cry. He looked at me. I looked at him. Frozen on the other side of the glass, one tear started down my face and turned into a stream.
Tears landing in his smile, he laughed. So did I.
I put my hand on the window while I covered my mouth with the other. He touched his fingertips to mine, then ran toward the door and into the shop. Into my life.
We embraced. His warm arms tight around my body. My face pressed into his chest. No words needed. We stepped back. His eyes on me. My eyes on him. We said, “Hi,” over and over again, held each other, and repeated, until he pulled away and held my hands.
We stared at each other, through each other, like we had been together in this moment for years. He touched my cheek, then my lips. I closed my eyes as his face inched toward mine. Soft and sweet, we kissed as ink began to cover the bare walls of my life. The story continued. Better than I could’ve imagined.
I opened my eyes. Looked into his. Smiles lighting up the room, he finally broke the silence by clearing his throat. I realized I hadn’t heard his voice before. I didn’t know his name. And all that would change. Right now.
He smiled and shook his head. “What are the chances?”
Down from the Clouds
Gavin’s one of the most sensitive and emotional people you’d ever know, except you’d never know it. Trying to find out how he feels is like pulling a one-hundred pound bucket of water out of a seventy feet well. But when he finally falls in love and meets the woman of his dreams, who is set on getting to know every part of him, for better or worse, his walls crumble as he is forced to stand face-to-face with the past he’s been avoiding.
