by Dean Mayes
Andy smiled at those memories.
Every so often Andy looked towards the hotel entrance. He checked his watch, cursing himself for having readied himself so early, but he didn’t know what else to do. His anticipation was too much. He put down the newspaper and looked around for the men’s room. He saw it, and, as he stood to walk over to it, Andy chanced a glance at the entrance.
There she was.
Sonya was standing just inside the door, surveying her surroundings.
Their eyes met.
Andy forgot about the bathroom completely and walked towards her. She smiled at him.
“Hello,” Sonya greeted. “Wow. They’ve put you up in some pretty nice accommodations.”
Andy nodded, craning his neck to look around the foyer of the resplendent hotel. The morning sun streamed in through a large sky light far above, bathing the foyer in an ethereal light. When he looked back at her again, he was struck once again by her beauty. The sunlight danced over her auburn hair, making it seem even more lustrous than he had remembered. She wore a pretty summer dress under a light green cardigan and canvas shoes. She held the sun hat she’d worn the previous day in her hand.
“Yeah, my school did pretty well in getting us into this place. The dean might flip out, though, when he finds out how much it’s costing them.”
Andy smiled. “I’m glad you came. I know it must be a little awkward for you.”
“Not at all,” Sonya replied. “It’s nice to be able enjoy a little down time while I’m here. The festival is good and all, but - it’s just nice.”
“So...” Andy ventured. “Do you like coffee?”
Of course she likes coffee!
Sonya nodded.
“I found this really great coffee house not far from here. It’s called Enzo’s,” Andy suggested. “They do an awesome breakfast.”
Sonya’s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of hers and Denny’s old haunt.
“Do you know it?” Andy asked.
Of course she knows it!
“I know it,” she said slowly. “Very well.”
Sonya studied him curiously as Andy gestured towards the door.
“Shall we?”
He knew he was taking a risk by taking her there, and he could tell by her expression that he had touched off something in her. Andy didn’t want to arouse her suspicions in a way that would put her off, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. She seemed genuinely happy with the suggestion. They drove the short distance across town in Sonya’s car, where they sat quietly, unsure of what to say at first. But by the time they took up a place in a booth in the cool, soft atmosphere of the Lygon Street coffee house, they had relaxed enough that they began a conversation that was easy, natural and pleasant.
Andy felt the echo of the way it had been before, when Denny and Sonya used to come to Enzo’s. He remembered how they had sought refuge here, when they were studying furiously for exams on winter afternoons when it was pouring with rain outside. And he remembered how they hung out here with their circle of friends during the summer, when classes were just beginning and they were coming to grips with a seemingly insurmountable workload. Then there were the lazy weekends, when they craved just being alone together. They would come here to enjoy a cooked breakfast on a Saturday morning. They would curl up together in a booth, reading a book to each other and sipping coffee. Here was the place that felt like a second home.
Andy listened to Sonya as she talked about the practice and the beach house in Hambledown. How, in the time since Denny’s death, she had fully taken the reins of her grandfather’s practice, had turned it around from the wreck he had left behind and now hoped for its future. The beach house was another story. It was still dilapidated, and Sonya planned to focus her energies on renovating it once the practice was turning over a profit.
Sonya felt herself growing more at ease in Andy’s company. He listened attentively. He was quiet, perhaps a little shy, but not at all what she might have expected. His presence was warm and, once again, she experienced that sense of déjà-vu - a sense of familiarity that was very potent, but also different somehow.
There was a reunion between Sonya and Enzo, who recognized her immediately. He stopped serving the other customers and embraced her warmly. Enzo had been at Denny’s funeral, and had wept for him. As the elderly Italian came over to them, Andy felt a familiar rush of affection for the generous old man. He had taught Denny the art of chess, and their “tournaments” became another of the attractions of the coffee house. At Enzo’s insistence, Andy and Sonya stayed for lunch. He knew about the guitar festival, and when Sonya introduced Andy and mentioned that he was competing, Enzo embraced him. His regard for musicians, particularly guitarists of the classical discipline, was legendary. Andy and Sonya stayed until mid-afternoon. Neither of them minded at all.
When they finally did leave, Andy and Sonya strolled leisurely along the sidewalk towards the city. Andy felt elated. He weighed up whether it was a good time to part company now, on such a sweet note. He would be disappointed, but he was mindful of being too hurried with her.
“I guess I should think about getting back to the hotel,” he said, almost involuntarily as he began surveying the street near Sonya’s car.
“Oh,” Sonya said, disappointment in her voice.
Andy turned back to look at her.
“I don’t have to, though. If you...”
Sonya did not want it to end now. She held his gaze, feeling a lovely warmth pass through her. It was as if Andy had cast a spell on her. The guilt had left her, now.
“Shall we go for a walk?” she suggested.
Andy’s eyes brightened. “I’d like that very much.”
Andy and Sonya made their way into the city. They stopped by a florist in a French-inspired arcade to pick up some lilies for Joss as a thank you for letting Sonya stay at her Williamstown apartment. Andy recognized the florist. Denny had bought flowers there before, and Andy smiled inwardly, pleased that Sonya still favored it. They walked along the banks of the Yarra River, continuing their conversation. All the while, words began to form in Andy’s mind, an appeal that tugged at his conscience.
Tell her!
He tried to ignore it, pushing the irrational thoughts away. He knew if he were to reveal himself to her now, it would be too much for her to comprehend.
“Would you like to go for a drive?” she asked.
She doesn’t want this day to end, Andy thought excitedly.
“Where?” he said.
“Well, I have to drop these flowers off at Joss’ apartment; otherwise they’ll shrivel up in this heat. It’s in Williamstown. It’s just over the bridge, say about half an hour from here. I can drop you back to the hotel later. If you’d like.”
Williamstown! My home!
Andy managed to stifle his excitement at hearing mention of the seaside suburb by feigning a thoughtful expression, as though he were considering her proposal. He studied her with a lopsided half-grin.
“Am I correct in guessing that you’re enjoying yourself?”
Sonya blushed, and eyed him suggestively.
“I could be,” she replied coyly.
Andy wanted to take her in his arms right then and kiss her. He wanted to feel her lips against his, to hold her hands and feel their warmth, but he restrained himself.
Again, the words sounded in his head.
Tell her!
Finally, he nodded.
“That sounds like a great idea.”
Picking up Sonya’s VW sedan once more, they drove across the city to Williamstown, the cosmopolitan beach side suburb where Sonya and Denny had spent their childhood.
Neither of them wanted the day to end.
By the late afternoon, Andy and Sonya found themselves in Williamstown’s chic restaurant district. On a balcony of a waterfront cafe that overlooked Port Philip Bay, they ordered a bottle of wine and relaxed in their seats to take in the view. A jazz quartet was playing in the background. The majesti
c Melbourne skyline dominated the landscape to the north, towering above groups of moored yachts that rocked gently on the swell of the Williamstown harbor, their masts swaying to and fro.
People were enjoying walks on the nearby esplanade, playing on the beach, swimming in the sea. A tall ship slowly made its way across the water, its sails billowing full in the late afternoon breeze. It all reminded Andy a little of Chicago. He took in a deep breath of the salty scent - something Lake Michigan had been missing - and exhaled, feeling a calm unlike any he’d felt before. Everything seemed so pure here, so clean. And so familiar.
It was home.
They enjoyed a lobster that was quite unlike any Andy had ever eaten. They drank a local wine and continued their conversation almost uninterrupted. The day had been wonderful.
Sonya smiled as Andy stretched and gazed out across the water.
“I can see you’re enjoying yourself,” she commented as a waiter cleared their plates and refreshed their wine glasses.
“I am,” Andy replied. “This place is surreal. It’s like something out of a dream or a picture book. Is everyone in this city so laid back?”
Sonya followed his eyes out across the waterfront.
“Hmm. It is tranquil here. Though Melbourne itself is like any other city. It has its fair share of problems.”
“So city law doesn’t appeal to you, then?”
Sonya shook her head and sipped her wine.
“Not at all. I decided that rural concerns are enough of a challenge on their own. And I prefer the people. They are far more ... real than anyone here. I would rather help them there than destroy people here. There’s enough aggression in the Melbourne law fraternity. I didn’t want to get sucked into it.”
“That’s quite noble,” Andy remarked.
“It is,” Sonya agreed with an earnest nod before smiling broadly, and causing Andy’s heart to skip a beat.
“What about you? The guitar seems to be very much a part of you. It defines you, yes?”
Andy returned her smile with his own and swirled the wine in his glass, holding it up to the light to study it.
Sonya’s breath caught in her throat then as she watched him. The way he held the glass, the way he inspected the wine.
Andy rested the glass on his crossed leg.
“It’s everything to me,” he said wistfully. “It’s carried me through some difficult times, and I haven’t always been very kind to it. But now it’s the one thing that I want to do more than anything. It’s pretty much been the only thing I was ever good at.”
Sonya’s brow creased into a frown.
“Surely you’re good at more than just the guitar.”
“Getting into trouble, possibly. I was exceptional at that,” Andy bowed his head slightly. “Unfortunately, I think I made an art form out of calamity instead of applying myself. But there has always been the guitar. It is a gift that I’ve come to treasure.”
“Trouble?” Sonya inquired.
“Oh, it’s way too long a story,” Andy deflected. “Let’s just say I was lost for a long time. But I found my way back.”
“Well,” Sonya raised her glass, and he met hers with his. “Your gift is a beautiful thing. Music is said to be the salvation for many of us. Here’s to it.”
They drank, looking at each other. A sense of something electric passed between them.
“You know,” Sonya began hesitantly. “I have to say this, and please don’t think I’m crazy, but - you seem so very familiar to me. It’s like - I feel like we’ve met before.”
Andy smiled awkwardly. “That sounds like a very bad line,” he said. “Even with the Australian accent.”
Sonya laughed and covered her mouth, embarrassed.
“I know, it does, right? But it’s true. Are you sure that you’ve never been to Australia before?”
“I haven’t. Sorry,” Andy said, the statement sounding like a lie to him. “Not even once.”
Again, the voice tugged at the corners of his mind.
Tell her.
Andy’s shifted his thoughts towards the concert series, the seemingly overwhelming nature of the final competition.
“I can’t believe I’m here, that I’ve made it this far,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“It’s a wonderful opportunity,” Sonya agreed. “I can only imagine how nervous you must feel.”
“Hmmm.”
Andy looked out across the waterfront towards the beach. It was the same beach where they had frolicked as children. He gestured towards it with a nod.
“Shall we take a walk on the sand?”
Sonya nodded and smiled.
“That would be nice.”
Making their way down to the water’s edge, Sonya slipped off her sandals and stepped - gingerly at first - into the sea, feeling the cool water against her ankles and feet.
Andy took off his own shoes, setting them on the sand and joining Sonya as she luxuriated her feet at the water’s edge.
“There is something addictive about the seaside,” she mused. “I have always loved it. I’ve lived near the beach pretty much all my life.”
I remember, he mused silently.
“Are you nervous?” Sonya asked. “About the final?”
Andy wandered a few paces along the shoreline, hands in his pockets.
“I’m petrified,” he answered truthfully. “I came here with no expectations whatsoever. I mean, I was a last-minute entry. The Conservatory didn’t even want me on the delegation. Now, I want it more than anything. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more.”
Sonya watched him, her hand shading her eyes from the late afternoon sun.
He stands at the water’s edge, his hands in his pockets, thoughtful. Yet he is neither out of focus nor out of reach. Unlike her dream.
This was the dream?
Small waves, no more than a few inches high, washed up on the shoreline now, but as they strolled slowly along, watching children playing in the shallows, a bigger wave broke unexpectedly over a ridge of sand, slapping against Sonya’s ankles and causing her to lose balance. Reflexively she reached out with her hand and Andy grabbed it, pulling her close to steady her. He held her until he was sure she was safe. She looked up to thank him, and in that moment their eyes locked. Neither one could look away.
He could resist no longer.
He leaned in gently, his finger rising to touch her cheek, and their lips found each other. A soft, slow, electrifying kiss ignited a wellspring of warmth and emotion in them both so powerful that neither could pull away, nor wanted to. Sonya’s hand cradled his jaw, her lips parted, and she touched her tongue to his, teasingly, exquisitely rolling around it, and then gently pulling back. Sonya sighed as Andy drew in close to her, sliding his hands around her body and holding her softly.
The moment lingered.
Time stopped.
An alarm bell suddenly rang out in Sonya’s mind and she panicked, pulling herself away from Andy abruptly. She was breathless, flooded with guilt. Sonya’s mind swirled and she felt as though she might fall. Her face melted into bewilderment, embarrassment, shame.
“What have I done?” she gasped.
Andy was stunned where he stood, dazed by the afterglow of the kiss and the suddenness of her pulling away. He reached out to Sonya, but she put her hand up defensively.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said breathlessly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No, no, Sonya please. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”
Sonya felt sick as the familiar, irrational guilt assailed her. All she wanted to do was to run away from here, from him - this exquisite stranger who made her feel...
He made her feel.
“I should go, Andy,” she stammered as she hurriedly put on her sandals. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this.”
Andy’s heart pounded as she turned away from him. All these long months of searching, the battle within him to make sense of
the additional presence that resided there. His and Denny’s emotions collided together somewhere deep inside of him, melding together until they were all but indistinguishable.
This is it.
Denny’s voice rang in his ears, and Andy turned to face Sonya, who was walking away from him.
“Sonya!” he called out desperately.
Something in the tone of his voice made Sonya stop, and slowly she turned around to face him.
“Please wait.”
Andy stepped forward, holding his arms out.
“Sonya ... it’s me. It’s Denny.”
Sonya’s eyes went wide and she blinked.
“Sonya, I don’t how to explain what happened. I was in the dark after it happened, then - somebody found me. In Chicago,” Andy’s voice quivered.
He stepped forward and Sonya flinched, clearly spooked, but he continued.
“I was lying in a trauma room in a hospital,” he said. “They told me I’d overdosed - that I had died in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. But I was - revived. Something happened to me when I was revived. I woke up and I was in this - this - body.”
Sonya’s purse strap slipped from her shoulder, falling to the sand. She said nothing as Andy approached her.
“Ever since then I’ve been plagued - by these memories. Of this old life, of this - place. Of you. I couldn’t make sense of them at first, but I realized I was remembering everything about my old life.”
“I - I can’t believe,” Sonya whispered, her lip quivering.
“I couldn’t believe it at first, either,” Andy continued, his voice cracking. “But I remember everything: the hospital, our home, everything we planned to do. It all came to me, gradually at first, but I remember. And then I found you. I found Hambledown - on the Internet. I found Denny’s page on Facebook. I had these clues to go by - the things I remembered. It was all there!”
