Stacy's Song

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Stacy's Song Page 14

by Jacqueline Seewald


  I took the hand he offered and held it tight. We negotiated the icy steps together with care. “Cold out there, isn’t it?” he said with a shiver, closing the front door firmly behind us.

  His clothes were soaked through.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and change while I fix us a hot drink?”

  I took off my coat, which was also wet. While he was gone, I went out to the kitchen and found an old copper kettle. I put up some water to boil and then looked around for some tea bags or instant coffee. I found tea bags in the cupboard and set about fixing us each a cup. All the time, I remembered how I had come to him in the summer and how I felt about him then. I had a sense of déja vu. Was I a fool, or what? Was I just letting myself in for heartache again? Well, I wouldn’t be stupid this time. I was going to put re-enforced concrete around my heart. No more getting hurt by a guy who was troubled and didn’t know what he wanted.

  Michael came down the steps having changed into a red and black flannel shirt and faded jeans. I brought him a cup of tea.

  “How do you take your tea?” I asked him.

  “Doesn’t matter. Plain is fine.”

  “Good, because I didn’t find any milk or sugar.”

  “Thanks, this is good,” he said and sipped the dark brew.

  We sat in quiet contemplation for a while, neither of us knowing quite what to say to the other.

  Then I put down my cup and found myself ready to talk again. “I came to tell you I would stay with you and help in any way I could.”

  He lifted his head, ears perked like a puppy. “Won’t that cause a problem with your father?”

  “My dad said I had to cut down on my activities. But he can’t force me to give up the band. I told him that I won’t be cheerleading anymore. That’ll give me the time I need to study. I also decided to ask the honor society for a tutor. I need help and unlike some people, I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  “And your old man didn’t chain you to your bedpost?”

  “Nope. He did give me a stern lecture, but my mom got involved and sided with me. In her own way, she knows how to manage Dad. She avoids confrontations, but she still gets him to listen. My mom has lots of common sense.”

  “Wasn’t it Einstein who said common sense is not so common?”

  “If you say so.”

  Michael actually smiled in my direction. He put the teacup down. “No more cheerleading? Won’t that hurt your relationship with Greg?” He was trying to keep his tone casual but there was intensity to his voice.

  I hesitated. “Greg and I won’t be dating anymore.”

  “Guess I should say I’m sorry, but I’m not. So I won’t pretend I am. I’m not a hypocrite.”

  “Were you jealous of him?”

  He looked uncomfortable and got to his feet. “Not in the way you think. I thought we were going to lose you because of him.”

  “You were hurtful to me.”

  “I know. I’m sick in the head. I was so afraid of losing you that I did everything that would push you away and make you leave.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  He came closer to me. “I told you I was crazy.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “I got jealous of Greg because he had you and I didn’t.”

  “You were the one who said you didn’t want anything but a professional relationship between us.”

  “That’s true. I still don’t. I have no right to be jealous, but I am anyway.”

  “Well then I don’t understand. If you don’t care about me, why should you behave so miserably if someone else does? You are frustrating and illogical.”

  His hands reached out and touched mine. His fingers were long and slender yet very strong. “I guess I don’t control my feelings very well, do I?”

  “Where I’m concerned, I didn’t know you had any feelings, except maybe disapproval.”

  “I acted that way because I knew I wasn’t good enough for you.”

  I stared at him open-mouthed. “That’s garbage!”

  “It doesn’t smell, does it?”

  “Sure, it does!” I turned away from him. “Look, let’s just skip it. I think I like it better when you’re nasty to me, because at least I know where I stand. Anyway, I will stay with the band, but on my terms. I won’t let you boss me around anymore. Is that understood? No more running our sessions like a dictatorship. I’ll come to rehearsal and do all I can to help, but my schoolwork has to come first. I’m going to college no matter what.”

  I had never talked to anyone that way before. But I wasn’t letting Michael walk all over me. I guess I am my father’s daughter. “One other thing, I’ve found a reputable lawyer to look over contracts for us.”

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “A lawyer? How did you manage that? Are you sure he’s responsible? A lot of these guys are shifty and will take advantage of kids.”

  “Oh, this attorney is the best. I ought to know. He’s my dad.”

  Michael looked surprised. “Your father? Forget it! He’ll wreck the whole deal.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “He hates me. He doesn’t want you to have any part of this.”

  “Maybe not, but he knows this is what I want. And he doesn’t hate you. He doesn’t know you yet. I’m sure you’ll win him over with your charisma and tremendous charm.”

  He knew I was teasing and laughed out loud.

  “Just like Greg, right? You really aren’t going to see that guy anymore?” He asked the question as if he hardly believed what I’d said.

  “That’s right. I dumped him. I’m probably the only girl who ever did, but he doesn’t seem to be taking it too hard. He asked if I minded him dating Karen.”

  Michael smiled and I admired the fine dimple in his cheek. “That sounds like Greg all right.” His face became serious again, his mouth turning down at the corners.

  “Stace, why did you drop him?”

  I wasn’t sure myself, so how could I answer? “I didn’t like him all that much I guess. I wasn’t that into him.” That was as truthful as I could be. How could I explain the lack of chemistry?

  “And the cheerleading?”

  “That isn’t so important either. I wouldn’t give it up if I could help it, but the band matters more.”

  “It does matter, at least to me, and I hope to you as well.”

  “I still think you would do just as well without me.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said.

  We were face to face. How I wished I could look into his eyes and into his heart. How I wished he could look into mine.

  “I never told you this, but having you to work with has inspired me. I’ve written my best stuff since you came into my life. I wasn’t planning to tell you that but it’s the truth. I’m sorry if I hurt you. I was cruel because I was jealous, tortured. I know I was wrong. I don’t even know if I can change.”

  “If you want to change, you will,” I told him. I felt a tingling sensation where his hand held mine. I felt his warm breath against my cheek. It thrilled me so much I knew I had to get away from him or just fall apart. “I brought something else with me today.” Walking across the room, I reached into my handbag and pulled out a sheet of music. “I’ve been working a little on the music you gave me, the one you called Stacy’s Song. I’ve been trying to put lyrics to it.”

  He looked genuinely pleased. “I’m glad. Can I hear them? Will you sing for me?”

  “If you like, but I have to warn you, it’s not very good.”

  He took my hand and seated me next to him at the piano. Our shoulders touched and I shivered. It amazed me how he could play the piece without any music in front of him. I hesitated but then began to sing for him.

  When I finished singing and Michael finished playing, neither of us spoke right away.

  “As you can see, it’s still pretty rough. I’m having some difficulties with it.”

  “No, I don’t see, but I do hear.”

  “So yo
u think it’s awful?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But it needs work.”

  He hesitated. “It’s your song, Stacy. You’re the one who has to be satisfied with it. You’re the one writing it.”

  “Would you help me with it?”

  “If I can. But you’re the one who’ll have to revise it as you go. You’ve got the first verse down. That’s a great start.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot, my mother sent some cake over for you. She always bakes for Christmas.”

  “Did you bake, too?”

  “Fortunately for you, I didn’t.”

  “You do just fine with soup and tea,” he said with a grin.

  “Maybe I’ll learn to bake someday, but somehow I doubt it.”

  Michael sighed.

  “What is it?”

  “Oh, I guess I was just remembering what Christmas used to be like around here before my father died. My mother used to bake, too.”

  “Michael, you talk as if all the good things are in the past.”

  “Aren’t they?”

  “Only if you decide that.”

  He turned toward me. “We don’t have a family. That was all over and done with the day of the accident.”

  “Oh, Michael.” I touched his cheek with my finger, but he brushed my hand away. “Things can change for the better.”

  “Hey, I’m not throwing a pity party for myself. I don’t deserve your sympathy. Don’t you understand? Everything that’s happened is my fault. My mother is miserable. My sister is kind, but she shouldn’t be tied to an invalid, someone who always has to be considered and cared for. She should be going out more and having fun. Instead she and Jimmy spend most of their time with me.”

  “Liz loves you, and Jimmy’s your friend. There are ways to become more independent, even for a blind person. You’re not an invalid or a cripple.”

  “I keep hoping music will make the difference. I don’t want to be dependent. I won’t be a burden on my family for the rest of my life. I want to make my own way. There aren’t many ways for a blind man to earn a decent living in this world. I’ve got to find one. I’m terrified my music won’t do the job, that I’m not good enough. The competition is ruthless. There’s an awful lot of talent in the music business. Very few of those people are blind.”

  “You could continue your education past high school,” I offered. I wanted to encourage Michael and I wasn’t sure how.

  “I can’t afford college. There are bills and debts. It’s been hard enough on my mother as it is. I have to start earning my own way. I want to repay her—as if I ever could.” I snatched his hand, but he withdrew it. “I don’t want you worrying about me. I’m not committing suicide or anything. People like me always fight to stay alive.”

  “You’re hard on yourself. I think it would have hurt your father to see you acting this way.”

  “What do you know about it?”

  “A lot! I saw the picture on the mantle. You did have a happy family. I can tell. He looked like a good man, one who loved his children and was proud of them.”

  “Yeah, that’s why it hurts so much. I still remember that last night. I pitched a no-hitter, completely shut out the other team. A lot of people came up to us to tell Dad how great I’d played. He was so proud. In the car going home, he was telling me how the coach said I’d be a major leaguer one day. My old man felt very good.”

  “There, you see, he wasn’t sorry he went to the game. You did nothing wrong. You’ve been blaming yourself unfairly all this time. You’ve got to get over these feelings of guilt.”

  “But don’t you see, if anyone died, it should have been me, not him! Mom, Liz, they needed him. They still do.”

  “They need you, too.”

  “No, I’m just a burden the way I am now. I should have died that night.”

  I hit him then. I didn’t mean to, except it made me so angry to hear him talk that way. I slapped him right across the face. Since he wasn’t expecting it, the blow took him all the worse. “Sorry, but you’re so wrong it drives me homicidal.”

  “Don’t expect me to thank you,” he said rubbing his face.

  “Maybe you should. It’s time someone forced you to understand what you’re doing to yourself.”

  “Just what is that?” He confronted me through clenched teeth.

  “I know I was wrong the day I visited your mother. I shouldn’t have interfered. I tend to act before I think, but I’m trying to change. There’s a lot about your family relationships I’ll never understand; they’re just too complex, but I do care a great deal about you. Don’t shut me out! I only want to help you.”

  “I appreciate that. Like I said, I’m not good enough for you. That’s probably the one thing your father and I agree on.”

  “Well, then, you’re both wrong!”

  “I think you have to face the reality that I’m blind. I’m always going to be blind. It’s like a prison sentence. Anyone who comes into my life is going to suffer along with me. Things like parties and dances, all the fun you’ve been having this year, you couldn’t have any of it with me. Normal kids don’t want people like me around. It depresses them. It frightens them. They think, maybe this could happen to them. Then they don’t want to see me anymore because they don’t want to consider it. It’s like having cooties. They’re afraid of it rubbing off on them. Let’s face it, I’m bad news.”

  “You’re bullying me again,” I said. “You’re also underestimating me. I’ll be the judge of who I want to be with. And I want you. I choose to be with you. So stop trying to get rid of me.” I leaned over and kissed him smack on the lips.

  He started to push me away but I persisted, and then, in spite of his greater strength, he relented. He kissed me back. Although it was cold in the room, I felt as if I were in front of a raging bonfire. I don’t know how long the kiss lasted, but we were both breathless when we came apart. And I definitely felt something. In fact, I felt like my bones melted and my blood had erupted into a volcano. His arms were still around me.

  “Michael, I love you.” I held to him, pressing my face against his chest.

  “I wish you wouldn’t say that!”

  “Why? It’s the truth. High time we were honest with each other.”

  “You’re only sixteen.”

  “I know what I feel. You told me to write the words to my song, remember? It’ll never be any good if it’s not the truth.”

  “I want you and I need you. But you would be much better off if you just got up and walked away from me right now. I can say that because I do care about you. If you knew how badly I wanted to touch you, to kiss you…so many times! I didn’t because I don’t want you saddled with a guy who isn’t whole. Now you’re ruining the one noble gesture I was ever capable of making! Besides, how can I ever love you, when I can’t even love myself?”

  “By realizing you are worthy. You are a good person, Michael, just too hard on yourself. Please love me and let me love you.”

  He took me in his arms again. This time the kiss was tender. Afterward we sat there for the longest time, just touching shoulders. He played my song again, and asked me to sing it, but I told him I couldn’t sing the words because they were changing. I had to rework them in my mind.

  We completely lost track of time. I do know that it got very dark outside. I heard the sleet against the windows and the wind howling outside. But being with Michael, the house seemed very warm. He played for me and I tried out the new guitar.

  Michael and I were still playing our music together when Liz and Jimmy slipped in and listened quietly. When we finished Liz said, “That sounded wonderful.” Her enthusiasm sounded genuine.

  Michael stood up and came behind me. His arms circled my shoulders. “Stacy is staying with the group.”

  I don’t think I ever saw Liz look so happy. “And they say miracles don’t happen on Christmas!” Liz took Jimmy’s hand, mine and joined Michael to us. “Looks like we’re a team, all right.”

&nb
sp; “That’s a group,” Michael corrected.

  Jimmy shook his head. “More like a family.”

  “You’re so right,” I said.

  It was a special moment we shared together, and I hoped it would be one of many more to come.

  Also by Jacqueline Seewald

  Chapter One

  September 1985

  When my mother talked about Lori, she always got a funny look in her eye — not ha-ha funny but strange funny. When I was little, I never understood. As I got older, I wondered more about Lori, but I hardly ever asked because it just seemed to make my mother sad.

  Lori was locked away in my mother's past life like the things in the old attic trunk. I wondered about them too. But Mom would always say when I asked her to open the trunk that the past was best forgotten. Yet, every now and then, I would say something or do something that made her sigh deeply and exclaim: "You remind me so much of Lori!"

  Not long ago, I was sitting on the living room couch reading a novel I found on the bookshelf. My mother walked into the room and gasped.

  "Something wrong?" I asked.

  She stared at me for a moment and shook her head. "No, but for a moment, it seemed like I was looking at Lori. I remember when she read Rebecca. She loved to read old-fashioned romances."

  "Mom, what happened to Lori?"

  I'd been to one or two family gatherings but never remember anyone mentioning Lori, Mom's younger sister. She also had a brother named Craig who lived in Portland, but that was all the family she had as far as I knew. I’d only met my relatives from Oregon once.

  "Danna, I'd rather not talk about her. It only brings back sad memories."

  "Sure, except I didn't bring it up."

  "Just don't you read too many of those foolish books and go around confusing them for real life. And don't think too much about boys. You’re still very young."

  Now I was really confused. "What exactly did Lori do?"

  My mother didn't answer. I could see it was hurting her to discuss her sister. Still, I couldn't help wondering. Mom had a sister who my parents never talked about. How totally weird was that?

  I thought about asking my stepfather about her, but we hardly ever spoke, at least not in the way that people in a family are supposed to communicate. In our house, silence was the rule rather than the exception.

 

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