by Taryn Quinn
Leaving her behind had nearly killed me, but the road and music had beckoned in a way I still couldn’t define. When had that gone silent?
Both of my first loves were tied up in a yin-yang of silence and passion. No matter how much I’d loved Felicity, I’d been too afraid to go after her. I’d poured all my passion into my music.
Without Fee, the passion had waned under the pressure of the studios, interpersonal drama in the band, and my own restrictions as part of a group. My ideas hadn’t meshed with my friends’ ideas anymore. The more successful we got, the narrower the focus had become in the band itself.
I flicked open the locks on my ancient keyboard. I’d hocked everything I’d owned and borrowed money from my parents to buy it. It might not be as high end as the keyboards I could buy now, but it had heart. And it had been a damn long time since I’d allowed myself to open it.
When I’d left the band, it was the only thing I’d actually taken with me. The rest of my equipment had been shipped and stored, but I couldn’t leave this behind.
I teased the edges of the keys. Places where the first layer of plastic had worn away under my fingers played hopscotch across the white in a pattern of my past. A few of the black keys were just as battered.
I stroked down a series of notes and heard the melody in my head. For the first time in too many months, I needed to hear music. My music. I actually craved it. I fished out the plug and crawled across the hardwood to an outlet. I folded my legs cross-legged under me and flicked switches and settings until an arrow of blue lights flared over the top.
With a gentle brush of my fingers, I picked out notes that had been following me since I’d left Felicity that very first time. I’d never been able to get the melody right. The lyrics had been jumbled up and spit out in a number of versions.
Nothing worked.
A knot between my shoulder blades loosened as I allowed songs I’d loved since I was young to trip out and into the vaulted ceilings of the living room and foyer. The music echoed in the near emptiness of the house.
A few staging pieces of furniture were clustered here and there, but nothing that could fill a space.
And music sounded so very different in an empty room.
I needed to work harder to make it shine. To let it breathe and build.
The sun slipped behind the trees, leaving me in darkness, save for one lamp in the corner. I didn’t even notice. I couldn’t chase the notes fast enough.
My fingers cramped and still I played. Mumford, Frank Turner, the Eagles, even freaking Elvis songs. It didn’t matter. Whatever came into my head, I let it out. And when the purge finally came, my shoulders were sore from playing hunched over for hours.
I dropped onto my back on the hardwood floor, my head cushioned on the edge of an area rug. My heart was racing and my head felt blissfully empty for a moment. The ceiling was a spindly design of shadows from the trees and the rising moon. I reached around for my phone. I’d tossed it aside during my mad piano tirade.
Fuck. It was well after dinnertime. I’d been at it for hours. My gut growled and the empty head turned into a dull throb from hunger. I rolled up to a seated position and groaned on my way to my feet.
Too old to be sitting on the floor like a damn teenager.
I wandered into the kitchen and drank three glasses of water before unearthing my phone again. My thumb hovered over the number for the pub.
She wouldn’t be there, but the food was good and hot. I ordered their chili in a bread bowl as well as a few desserts then hopped into my truck. The ride back into Baltimore and Pat’s gave me time to pick apart what Felicity had said.
The anger and hurt had time to gestate and multiply while I’d been playing my damn pain out. But the fact that I’d immediately gone for the keys to get it out told me she’d had a lot of truth in her words.
I would die without music.
I’d just been withering in a different way with the band. And I hated to pick that apart. I’d always been part of a band. I never wanted to be in the front lines. I didn’t have the lead singer disease that almost every one of them did.
At least I didn’t think I did.
The more I unpacked why I was so miserable, the more I had to own up to the fact that maybe it wasn’t the band. Maybe it was just me. Maybe I needed to go my own way, not retire.
And I really didn’t know what that meant.
I pulled into the busy parking lot for the pub and found a spot on the fringes. The place was rocking, with people littering the street and inside the vestibule. I fought my way in and aimed for the bar where the to-go orders would be. A friendly bartender smiled at me when I approached.
Tristan stepped up behind her. “Hey there.”
“Wow, popping’ tonight.”
Tristan rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, watch party for one of those music shows and ladies’ night, all in one go.”
I glanced over my shoulder at the stage with the trio of huge televisions. Usually they were broadcasting current sports games, but now celebrity judges filled the screens with screaming crowds. Sweet Jesus, I couldn’t figure that out. No one sang their own songs. How would they know if they actually had talent if they were just mimicking another artist?
Then again, I’d been doing the same. Mimicking what the band needed me to be.
I turned back to Tristan. “Looks like people are having a good time.”
“Sky hates it, but it’s good business. And whatever gets the beer taps flowing.” He placed a brown bag in front of me. “Tell Felicity we miss her.”
“What makes you think she’s with me?” I wished, but she so was not.
“Oh. Guess she couldn’t shake that train idea, huh?”
I frowned. “You know about that?”
“Yeah. She’s been planning it for months. She was going to go travel the states on her way to meet up with you guys, actually.” He frowned. “Did the tour change dates?”
I shook my head. “Just me.” I gripped the edge of the bar. “Wait, did you say meet up with me?”
“Yeah, she was going to go find you in one of the Midwest states. See if she could steal you away during your break in dates. You should have seen her at the counter with printouts for train stations and your tour schedule. It would help if you guys didn’t hopscotch around to different states. Finally, she figured out two months for her to travel and explore before…” Tristan trailed off. “I guess maybe that’s not going to work now, huh?”
She was going to find me?
Fuck.
That was what she’d meant by ruining her plans. And now I’d ruined them double time, by trying to hold her down here when all she wanted to do was fly.
With me.
Fuck, I was so damn stupid.
I backed away from the bar and headed for the door.
“Hey! You forgot your food.”
I weaved my way back to the bar. “Sorry. Thanks. Thanks for everything.”
“Just food, dude.”
“You have no idea.” I laughed and clutched the bag against my chest as I fought my way through the women of all ages vying for a spot near the televisions. One of them recognized me, and I was able to slip out the door before she got to me.
I ran for my truck and slammed it into gear.
All this time, she’d been planning to come to me. I didn’t even know how to process that. She’d been willing to take a chance and come for me. There was still hope. She couldn’t feel that differently now.
I just needed to alter my course a little.
Thanks to my familiarity with my hometown, I knew just what to do. A few exits away was a chain music store. I only needed a few things. I’d spent hours at the various music stores in the area, but those places had normal hours and I only had tonight to get my shit together.
An idea pollenated in my brain.
I bought a stand for my keyboard and a small amp.
The very helpful clerk at the store tried to get my attention three t
imes, but I couldn’t concentrate on mundane conversation. Between the lyrics bombarding my head and the knowledge that maybe Felicity might not be completely out of my life, I couldn’t really handle the public niceties tonight.
Finally, with the gear in the back of my truck, I headed back to the house.
The house that wasn’t really mine, but could be with a little more work. With a little more love and attention, it might be a good part-time residence, perhaps.
But this time, I’d make sure I had the girl before I made any more plans.
13
Felicity
“Are you sure it’s all right to leave these here?” I stared at the two bags stuffed in the corner of my sister’s basement.
“It’s not like you can take all those bags with you.” Robin crossed her arms. “It’d be easier to drive all over the country, you know.”
“I know, but then I couldn’t just up and go anywhere. At least with the train I can see what I want and sleep there, instead of at a million hotels.”
Robin shook her head. “Your plan has holes.”
“Lots of them, but lots of room to figure stuff out too.”
I wanted an adventure. That was what I was going to get. Even if there was a little pang in my chest. I had a few months to see if I was making the right decision.
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Myles? I mean, you haven’t told me much, but he bought a flippin’ house for you.”
Part of me still wanted to go find Myles and maybe take another look at his shiny house. But I knew in my heart that wasn’t right for us. The timing was off. Our story in a nutshell—timing. Both of us had been too afraid to go after what we needed. I still hoped that someday we’d get our shit together.
I couldn’t imagine my entire life without him.
But I couldn’t stand still anymore. Not even for him.
“I’m going to be late.”
I climbed the stairs and slowly walked through the back hallway to the living room. Pictures of my family lined the walls, so many bright smiles. Some of the photos were set in Florida. One of the stops on my train schedule was a trip to see my folks. But most of my itinerary included cities I’d dreamed of seeing and never had the money or time to visit. Now, I’d make sure to take the time to see New Orleans, Austin, Nashville, Savannah, and so many others.
I hadn’t planned anything after I was supposed to find Myles.
I tried to swallow the lump in my throat that never seemed to go away. It was going to take a long time to get those shattered blue eyes out of my head.
When I got to the door, I rechecked my travel bag one more time. “So did you talk to Todd this morning?”
My sister twirled a lock of her wavy dark hair. “Maybe.”
“Did you jump him at lunch?” I laughed when her neck and chest went pink. “Oh, you did!”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“You are avoiding my question. And I saw your ticket since, you know, you’ve checked it eight times today. You’ve got plenty of time.”
I sighed. I just wanted to get moving. If I didn’t, I never would. “I’ll give it a few weeks and call him.”
“Weeks?”
“He left me for two years, Ro. He can hold his ass for two weeks.”
“Don’t you think you’re being a little unreasonable? He came to you hat in hand.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I dropped my bag on the end table. “He also came at me with a whole future mapped out without so much as a hi, how are you? What have you been up to for two years?”
“And you have a plan you won’t budge on. There’s a thing called compromise, you know. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing.”
I raked back my hair. “How will I know if I don’t go? If I don’t try and see what’s out there?”
“At the expense of him?”
My eyes filled immediately. “Damn you.”
Robin reached for me, but I took a step back. She sighed. “I’m not saying it to hurt you. I just don’t want you to throw everything away because you have tunnel vision about this plan of yours.”
“Because he left me the first time.” I knew my voice was more of a shout.
“What do you mean?”
“He just walked away and I couldn’t breathe around it. I was too afraid to go after him. I just stood there. Frozen.” My voice was a rough whisper. “I don’t want to be that girl, Ro. I can’t be her anymore.”
“That girl isn’t a coward. No matter how you feel about anything else. You started your own company. You worked two, sometimes three jobs to get everything done. That’s not a coward.”
I clenched my fists at my sides. It didn’t feel like it. I couldn’t give myself to Myles that night, and then I couldn’t give myself to any other man who even attempted to get into my sphere.
I was a coward all around.
I tipped back my head. “I have to do this.”
“Fine.”
I blew out a breath. “Please don’t be mad at me.” My phone buzzed. My ride was outside waiting.
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Disappointed?” I looped the messenger bag over my head and double-checked my money and tickets one more time. It was just a confirmation number. I still had to pick up my actual tickets at the station. But I didn’t want any holdups or mistakes.
“Not even that. I’m jealous that you’re brave enough to go out there alone. Even though I’m going to worry about you every night. And you better at least text me and tell me where the hell you are.”
I laughed around a half sob. “I promise.” I hugged her in a rush and grabbed my big bag.
“I just don’t want you to be sorry that you threw something amazing away.”
I held the doorknob but didn’t turn around. “I’ll see you in a few months, Ro.”
I rushed down the driveway to the Uber driver waiting. Through my tears, I loaded my bag into the trunk and got into the backseat. Luckily, the driver wasn’t overly talkative. Right now, that was exactly what I needed.
By the time we pulled up to the train station, I’d gained back a little of my equilibrium. Nerves and second-guessing weren’t going to help anyone.
Especially me.
I would not be one of those women who waffled about a man, dammit.
Before the driver could help me, I hopped out of the car. She popped the trunk for me and I waved her off once I had ahold of both bags.
The front of the building looked even larger than the few times I’d passed it by. Stone columns and a huge clock gave it a stately air. People rushed around and the scent of water mixed with food carts. I had time to kill and now that I was here, the sense of urgency was leaking out of me like a four-day-old Mylar balloon.
I tried to push down my sister’s voice, Myles’s pleading tone as he asked me to give us a try, and my own quieter one that started a what-if chant.
None of those voices were supposed to be with me today. I’d been counting down the days to this trip. I glanced down at my phone to the countdown app I’d installed. T-minus three hours until I started my new life.
I stalked past the doors to the ticket station and around the back to the wide-open square. A visitors’ center, park, and huge walkway framed the river. It was midday and the regular commuters were rushing around while others were saying their hellos and goodbyes.
And here I was, alone.
By choice.
Today was the first day of everything I’d been working toward for the last year. Maybe even two years.
Had the germ of the idea happened that rainy night I’d kissed Myles? I’d wanted to chase after him and beg him to give us a chance. And if not us, then not to ruin our friendship. But I was far too pragmatic.
Afraid.
I didn’t want to hear that little voice. I didn’t want it to be right. But what if I was doing the same exact thing right now? Ignoring that inner guidance that was only trying to help, not hurt.
Di
sgusted, I found a spot under one of the trees and collapsed on the grass to watch the ships at port. Trawlers, tours, and in the distance, a few pleasure crafts bobbed on the water. Baltimore was such a hub of activity at all times. Somehow I’d become static, and I was so tired of that.
This was the right thing to do.
There was something romantic about the idea of traveling across country in a train. I tried not to focus on how much thinking time I’d have. But I’d be moving. And that was the important part. I had to move forward with something in my life.
I’d just use all the downtime on the train to work. Then I’d have ample time to see all the sights without worrying about money. It was a perfect plan.
I got to my feet and gathered my things. A flash of dark curls stole my breath.
I whipped my head around, my heart stuttering in my chest. I lost the man in the crowd. Suddenly, I spotted him again, but it wasn’t him. His shoulders were too narrow and the guy hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in way longer than Myles would allow.
“So stupid, Felicity.” I trudged my way to the side entrance and followed signs for the ticket area. The kiosks for electronic tickets had a wrapping line. I should have printed out a ticket, but I was hoping to upgrade to a sleeper car. Now, with my head pounding like a kick drum, I was willing to pay even more to upgrade.
I followed another line of people to the escalator. Sunlight shot through the trio of stained-glass windows in the ceiling as I got closer to the top floor. Huge antique benches lined the room in every possible configuration. It was the middle of the day, so they were full of bodies. Unhappy children, disgruntled tourists, and the everyday commuter traffic created a wall of noise.
In the distance, I heard music. A violinist was busking at the edges of the ticket area. On the other side of the massive room, a crowd of people circled another musician. A pair of security officers were also hovering on the fringes.
I’d been to New York a handful of times and saw people working the subways, but it seemed a far less likely thing here. Especially with the “no loitering” signs posted near the tracks.
