Kassidy's Crescendo

by Marianne Evans

  At Addams Middle School, Kassidy picked up the thread of her story.

  “So, the start of my tween years.” They parked their bikes at the back of the school and she kept to the perimeter of a grassy playing field. She linked her hand with Drew’s, and he savored its softness. “I have to admit, this was my least favorite time growing up.”

  “Why?”

  “Mostly because it marked the dawn of teenage awkwardness and peer pressure. Although”—she grinned—“come here.”

  She tugged Drew toward a four-seat swing set. The grounds were empty except for a contingent of boys playing kick-ball, shouting at and taunting one another. The boisterous exchange creased frown lines against her forehead.

  “See?” She nodded toward the group. “It starts so young. Dealing with fitting in and being accepted. Being good enough. Finding your way.”

  She claimed a seat and pushed herself into a steady flow of motion. Drew did the same.

  “There were two great milestones I experienced here though.”

  “Which were?” He stopped swinging. Kassidy’s hair formed a rippling wave as she flew past. Her slim profile formed a gorgeous silhouette he admired as he wrapped his arms around thick linked chains.

  “The eighth grade dance, which was my first formal, complete with a shy, sweet date, a rose corsage, and a black satin dress with sequins that made me feel like a super model. It was so much fun.”

  “I’ll bet you were stunning. What was the second milestone?”

  Kassidy pumped her legs, gaining a touch of altitude. Long legs. Fabulous legs. Drew refocused in a hurry.

  “My first kiss—with my date from the formal, actually. Our lips barely even touched, but it was a huge moment. It happened not long after the dance. Matter of fact, it took place right here.” She beamed a smile and swooshed past in a smooth blur of pendulum motion. “From that point on, for three whole months, we were an item. We held hands; he walked me to class and even all the way home a few times.”

  “Steadies.”

  “Yep.”

  “Incredibly romantic—and you possess the lyrical tongue of the Irish, Kassidy Cartwright.” Drew didn’t mean the words to be flirtatious. He was serious, drawn to her simple beauty. He started to swing once more. A cold breeze kissed his face, tussled his hair. He felt unbound…and how often had that happened of late?

  Try never.

  Drew swung back and forth, eyes trained on the ground, on a bar of sand beneath his feet that shifted in appearance in time to the rhythm of his moving shadow. Dark, light...dark, light.

  Kassidy drifted to a stop and gazed across the playground. “Let’s take a spin on the merry-go-round at the municipal park. It’s right over there.”

  Eyes alight, pointing the way, she dashed toward the low-slung apparatus. When she reached the lip of the metal circle, Drew offered his hand to keep her steady as she climbed aboard. She sat cross-legged, tipping her head toward the gray sky. Thick, heavy clouds piled, the precursor to a late autumn rain storm. He dug his foot in the sand and pushed, sending her on a spin before hopping aboard.

  “I envy him.” Drew propelled them once again then leveraged his hold on a thick metal support bar. “I envy the one who kissed you first.”

  Kassidy studied the onrushing clouds; the wind danced through her hair, carrying a tantalizing slice of brown satin across her cheek. “Don’t envy the first one who kissed me. Envy the one who kisses me last, and gets to keep me. That’s the only kind of man I’m after.”

  That tempting comment stirred a spear of need that launched through his chest, danced sparks along his fingertips. “Touché, KC. Touché.” They swirled as silence beat by. “Talk to me about ‘Rocketown’” Your performance of that song always hits me.”

  “Hmm. ‘Rocketown.’” She slowed the merry-go-round by drawing a line in the sand with the toe of her sneaker. “I’ll tell you the story of “Rocketown” if you’ll tell me the story of Roxanne Mitchell. Deal?”

  Caught off guard by her sly ambush, Drew froze for an instant. He owed her nothing less. “Agreed.”

  She avoided his eyes, visibly turning within. “I was on the wrong path. My first two years of high school were a black hole. My parents bickered constantly. They came close to divorcing, and I started acting out.”

  “Really? After spending time with them yesterday, I have to say, I’m shocked. They seem to be two perfectly matched people.”

  “They are, but a lot of emotion and a lot of tension came to life when my grandma on my father’s side was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.”

  Drew kept quiet, hoping his wince, his look of compassion, might convey what words alone couldn’t.

  “Gran lived with us while she fought the onset of the disease, and circumstances became so strained I hated to be at home. So, I found an escape valve named alcohol. I became part of a crowd of people that would have spelled my downfall were it not for God’s intervention. I lived the kind of crazy cultural frenzy Michael W. Smith speaks of in that song.”

  She paused. Drew prompted her forward. “What happened next?”

  Full, lush lips twitched into a smile, an embodiment of tender love and affection. “Next came the Sisters. I met Aileen, and Aileen introduced me to Siobhan and Maeve. I moved away from parties and alcohol and into a world of light.” She smirked. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Gran’s mental health faded fast, which continued to trouble my folks. Then, when I started attending youth group functions at Holy Spirit rather than parties and drink-fests, my so-called friends pushed away. At first, it hurt.”

  Like it might hurt to leave behind his own secular-focused world, Drew thought, but he kept quiet, riveted.

  “People expected a certain behavior from me, but I had changed to the core. When that happened, they weren’t nice. They taunted and labeled me, but I tuned out the noise and focused on what was good.”

  “That makes you a strong lady.”

  Luminous eyes sparkled at the compliment, but she harrumphed. “I don’t know about that. Like everyone else, I want to be accepted, and loved.” Kassidy gripped the metal poles of the merry-go-round and planted her feet, watching the ground as she pushed them left and right, left and right. “It’s hard to move from one chapter of life to the next, but one way or another, God grows us. Aileen prayed for me…over me…with me. Siobhan and Maeve took me in with such fierce loyalty and unconditional love that I gradually let go of the reins and found I was a lot happier chasing God than I would be chasing anything else.” She lifted to a stand. “Actually, this discussion segues quite nicely to my years at Westerville High. Want to grab our bikes and see if we can make it there before the rain hits?”

  “Absolutely.”

  They took off at a fast clip, pedaling furiously, fighting an increased wind. By the time they reached the school, drizzling rain began to pour. Kassidy settled her front bike tire within the slot of a metal rack. Drew parked next to her, and she grabbed his hand, dodging toward a dry spot beneath an overhang near the main entrance. She swiped droplets from her cheek, gathered her hair and drew it to one side where driblets of water trailed from the ends, forming a path down the front of her jacket. The image mesmerized him.

  “Kassidy! Kassidy Cartwright?”

  Drew blinked free of a stare. A woman approached from the parking lot. She moved briskly, full skirt dancing against her legs, umbrella extended. Issuing an exclamation of delight, Kassidy flung her arms open and they shared a long, tight hug.

  “Mrs. Szeliga! How are you?”

  “I’m fantastic, how are you? It’s so good to see you!” She kept an arm around Kassidy’s waist; happiness painted her features. “I’m just about to start rehearsals for the fall choral program. Bring back any memories?”

  “Does it ever! Debbie Szeliga, I’d like you to meet Drew Wintower. Drew, this is my high school choir teacher, and the one who inspired me to sing.”

  “Then I owe you a debt of thanks.” Drew accepted her proffered hand. “You’re quite
a talent scout.”

  Pink tinged Kassidy’s cheeks. “Drew’s our tour manager and promoter, so he suffers from bias.”

  “I’m sure he’s not biased at all. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Drew. Kassidy, I’m so proud of you and the girls. I can hardly keep up with everything that’s happened to the four of you.”

  That comment launched a brief catch-up session. Drew always found it tough to judge a woman’s age, but he would have pegged Debbie Szeliga to be in her late thirties. She had a fast, generous smile, dark hair that fell neatly to her chin and eyes that sparked with natural joy.

  “Mrs. Szeliga, would you mind if we sit in the auditorium for a few minutes?”

  “Not at all. You can listen in on practice.”

  They followed her inside and claimed seats toward the rear of the facility. On stage, choir members assembled on three-tier risers.

  A piano piece began and the harmonious blend of voices filled the air. Kassidy leaned close. “I’ll never forget the day I took my assigned seat next to Aileen in Mrs. Szeliga’s choir class during second semester of my sophomore year. For some crazy reason Aileen and I crossed our legs at the exact same second. We looked at each other and burst into laughter. Before then, we knew each other from a distance, but we weren’t particularly close. She sang at church, so I saw her at Holy Spirit most weekends because we always took Gran to Mass. My life changed in that instant because of quirky body language, music, and the way Aileen accepted me.”

  “She knew your reputation?”

  “She knew who and what I was. She could have snubbed me, been justifiably self-righteous and judgmental. She wasn’t. Never has been. I sampled beer as a freshman and sophomore, and I liked it. It was anesthesia against tensions at home. I rebelled and ran with people I shouldn’t because I felt like I’d fit in. All of that changed with Aileen and the girls. In them, I found what I needed most, God, and unconditional friendship.”

  Kassidy feathered a soft caress against his chin. He tasted longing in her gaze, and that prompted a flood of yearning and life-altering love. Conversation took a rest while Mrs. Szeliga coached her students on technique then lifted her arms, directing them once more through the intro of “All Glory Laud and Honor.”

  “Those times seem so far away,” Kassidy murmured, “yet I come here, sit in this auditorium, and every memory comes to life as though high school were only yesterday.” Silence fell. “I could have written off Aileen and the others as being goody-goody, but if I had, I would have been the one to lose, not them. The four of us clicked and bonded so easily it could have only happened because of Christ. We started hanging out, and after a while Aileen invited me to youth group at Holy Spirit. Game over. I was hooked because I was loved. That’s what I want you to feel, Drew.”

  It was his turn to be revealed, and he knew it. His conscience circled back to the questions Kassidy wanted answered about Roxanne Mitchell. For better or worse, it was time to let the past out of its cage. “We share a common thread. My family life was tense growing up as well.”

  “It was? I’ve heard you talk to your brother, and I know you enjoy spending time with your parents. All of you seem close.”

  “We are, but my parents are divorced.”

  “I had no idea.”

  When words trailed off a second time, Drew stepped into the void. “Their break-up happened when I started high school, a lot like you. You found music and friends and God. I found performance. The stage. I discovered a fantasy world I could create and control.”

  “And you’re amazing at it, Drew. Staging and direction is your gift.”

  He didn’t take or leave the words of praise. Rather, he let them settle. “Performance is what I love, and it grew beyond anything I ever imagined. Stage production gave me the life I craved because to me, money, plus success, equaled security. After my parents split, that’s how I found my way to a new form of normal.”

  He settled his gaze toward the stage. “For me, it’s the floorboards, the lighting, the props, and the process of organizing all kinds of productions. I never cared to act or sing. I loved the process of bringing an alternate world to life and letting everyone know about it.” Next to him, Kassidy shifted, delivering her full attention. “I’m fulfilled by creating a performance from nothing more than a blank canvas.

  “It’s not real, though. It disappears with every city we visit.” He released a stuttered sigh. Sharing that newfound recognition with Kassidy felt right—but scary, too. Vulnerability had never rested well on Drew’s shoulders. “You asked me once what happens when the stage goes dark. I’ve thought about the answer to that question many times since, and the answer is, there’s nothing. No true meaning or depth. Until now. Until this tour. Until you.”

  Kassidy turned her head; her chest rose and fell on a deep breath. “The only missing element is God.”

  Drew propped his forearms against the chair in front of him. “He’s after me, KC, but I don’t know how to deal with that fact yet.” He lifted a shoulder. “I love the idea of bringing performances to life for an audience. Can’t say why or how that came to be, really. Nothing exceptional drew me to the entertainment field. I graduated college with a degree in performance arts and a minor in business.” He chuckled. “I figured I’d hedge my bets by having a dream plan and a practical plan.”

  “Smart man.”

  “Not so smart when I break the rules.”

  Kassidy’s shoulder pressed against his; her muscles tensed, but when her eyes tagged his, they were steady and strong.

  “You asked about Roxanne Mitchell.” Kassidy nodded. “I met Roxanne when Liam brought her to New York City, ready to send her on tour. I liked her, sure. She understood me and my professional life. Theoretically, we were a good match.”

  “What’s the rest of the story?”

  “I broke the cardinal rule about dating a person you work with.”

  Kassidy braced all over again.

  “Roxy was convenient and easy to be with. She was fun, pretty, and kind—but that’s where it ended. We were colleagues more than anything else. I didn’t feel anything passionate or overwhelming, but we were similar. Our lives ran in parallel paths.”

  “And then?”

  “In the end, I backed away. Roxanne didn’t take it well. I had no idea she’d be hurt and explode. I never saw that level of anger coming. We weren’t committed; I didn’t make love with her. I never compromised our professional relationship outside of a few private dinners and casual dates. Next thing I knew, I was summoned to Cam Franklin’s office at Ganneton and given the news that I had been removed from her tour. She wanted distance. By that point, so did I, but still I was stunned.”

  “Did she accuse you of anything?”

  “No, she simply requested a change. Or should I say, she politely demanded a change. She only said it was personal, with no hard feelings. Since she had a hit single climbing the charts and an album on the Billboard rise, corporate didn’t ask for much in the way of an explanation. Thing is, mystery fueled speculation. Gossip spread far and fast, and there was nothing I could say or do to stop it. Any response on my part would lead to a nasty session of he said/she said with no substantiation. I was trapped, KC, forced to keep quiet while industry rumors pegged the move as a response to some kind of tawdry sexual blow up.” Drew issued a mirthless laugh. “Nothing could’ve been further from the truth. I wouldn’t disrespect a person that way. I wasn’t inappropriate, but in the entertainment field, innuendo is more than enough to make clean water toxic.”

  “I’m so sorry you’ve had to endure—”

  “I’m grateful Liam threw me a shot at redemption.” Drew cut in, eager to change emphasis, strangely ashamed of something he had never done—never even contemplated. Where was the justice? To this day, he struggled to grasp the answers—the reasons why.

  “Liam knows talent.”

  The words reached him in succinct terms he appreciated. “Liam is an incredible friend. When he met with me, saying
he had discovered the next big thing, I couldn’t wait to jump on board. But I didn’t think my bosses were going to go for it since it included four women. In the end, I guess they figured it’d either be redemption or the ruination of my career.”

  Kassidy didn’t react to his deliberately melodramatic tone. Instead, she seemed to gather her thoughts and give Drew’s admission heartfelt consideration. “Well, you’ve landed on redemption, so don’t let Roxy-gate define you. Move away from it and move forward into something better. Something more worthy of the man I see before me. You know the truth. God knows the truth. Nothing else matters.”

  “You matter. You matter very much. But I work with you. Closely.”

  “But I’m not Roxanne. Furthermore, I believe in you. This is different, Drew.”

  That gave him courage. Weights lifted away, leaving him light—free. “Moments like this, with you, are exactly what I need. I’m glad we’re able to spend time together outside of the tour.”

  Did he imagine her glow of pleasure? Did hope magnify or distort the delight he sensed?

  “You’re so sweet.” Her voice held a playful lilt. “I love the way you pay such lavish compliments when you haven’t even sampled my cooking yet.”

  “Which reminds me, what’s on the menu for tonight?”

  “Stew. My mom’s recipe. It’s been simmering in the crock pot all day, so it should be perfect by the time we’re ready to eat.”

  Thoughts of a comforting meal shared in Kassidy’s company spurred Drew forward as they departed Westerville High. Near the halfway mark to her apartment, they needed respite from the rain, so they pulled off the bike path near a small municipal park. A stand of trees with branches still crowded by fiery leaves afforded a bit of short-term protection from the elements. Drew climbed off his bike and propped it against a thick tree trunk.

  Kassidy did the same, surrendering to a laughing fit as rain poured and cold wind blew water everywhere—across her face, against her windbreaker, against the cotton of her jeans, through her hair. “Obviously the bike ride preceding a storm wasn’t our greatest idea.”