"Are you too good for my clothes?" he asked. His smile made it obvious that he was joking.
"I wanted that shirt I had on, but the bench is already too much," I said.
I left some space between us when I sat down, and he moved his leg over so that it was touching mine. My heart was already acting funny, but it skipped an extra beat when he bumped into me. I looked up at him, and he studied my face. "Kiss me," he whispered.
"No," I whispered back.
"Why not?"
"Because your brother's right there."
"You kissed me in front of him last night."
"That was different. We all had a few drinks last night," I said. I didn't add that I had just heard their conversation and knew his dad and brother hated my guts. Drake leaned down and kissed me without my permission. I was defenseless. I wanted him so badly that I kissed him back even though every ounce of my common sense told me not to. Rory was probably planning ways to murder me right then, and I didn't even care. The beautiful, curved lips of Drake Kelly, warm and wet on mine, trumped everything—even death. He broke the kiss and leaned back on the couch.
"When can you come over again?" he asked. I laughed internally, thinking I would have already been gone for good if my car had been there. I thought back to the fight he had with his brother a few minutes ago. I knew Drake said some pretty horrible things about me. I couldn't recall exactly what he said, but it was something to the effect of, she means nothing and she's just like all the other girls. I felt a pain in my heart at the thought. My chest literally ached.
"What's the matter?"
"Me? Nothing."
"You didn't answer me," he said. "When can we do this again?"
"Probably soon," I lied. "I'm about to get slammed with school, though." I added that last part because I was a terrible liar, and I felt bad about not giving some sort of excuse before I disappeared.
Rory spoke to me a little. I tried not to be awkward with him, but I couldn't help but be more guarded than usual. The next ten minutes went by really fast, and before I knew it, Drake was walking me out to meet Megan. He opened the gate, and Megan pulled up, stopping near the bottom of the stone stairway. They spoke for a minute while we found a spot for the bench. Megan fussed over how nice it was, and Drake said it was a fun project. They exchanged a few niceties before we got in the car to head home.
On the way home, I told Megan the whole story about the bench, and me having fun playing for the first time. Then I told her about overhearing a conversation that made me think twice about ever seeing him again. She didn't offer much advice, because she could see that I was just venting and wouldn't really be receptive to it anyway. She was kind enough to tell me she'd be there if I needed her, but understood if I just wanted to go off to my room to be alone.
I took my bench into my room with me. I set it against the wall near my bed. The first thing I did, obviously, was take a hot bath. I stayed in there for at least twenty minutes, soaking all my cares away. Maybe not, but at least it felt good, and it was a tiny distraction. After my bath, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling while I composed my thoughts. When I did compose them, it was in the form of a letter to Drake.
This is what it said:
Drake,
I'm writing to let you know that I won't be able to see you anymore. Unfortunately, I'm more invested than I thought I'd be, and I know neither of us is looking for that right now. I'm so glad we met, and I have no regrets whatsoever, but it's time to go ahead and cut our losses. I need you to know that the bench is so very special to me. The check I've enclosed doesn't even begin to represent its worth. It is absolutely priceless to me, and the money is just a small token for the time and materials you used. It's not enough, but please accept it. You're a truly talented artist, and I'm humbled by such thoughtfulness. Thanks a million and take care.
Yours truly,
Addie
I put it in an envelope along with a check for three thousand dollars. I was reasonably sure that wasn't enough, but I was a frugal person, so it felt like a grand gesture. It was the amount that felt right for closure—the amount I decided would free my mind of feeling like I owed him something. I sent the letter and check to him the very next morning.
Chapter 20
I knew the letter would get to Drake quickly since we lived in the same town, but I was surprised to get a call from him the day after I mailed it.
It was 3PM on Tuesday afternoon when the call came in, and even though I could have easily picked up the phone to talk to him, I didn't. I was too scared. I stared at the phone until the call went to voicemail. Then I stared at it some more, waiting to see if he'd leave a message. He did. A notification came up asking if I wanted to listen to the message, and I was so nervous about what it would say, that I hesitated. I sat there for a few long seconds with my finger over the button before finally deciding to listen to it.
I put the phone to my ear. There was a second of silence at the beginning of the message and I heard him sigh as he began speaking. "Addie, I just got your letter." Just hearing his voice gave me a pain in the chest. I heard him pause and sigh again, and my heart ached. "I'm not gonna lie, I'm really bummed about it. I wish you had picked up your phone so I could talk to you. I understand if you don't want to see me anymore, but please call me back. And I've already shredded that check." The message ended and I looked down at the phone long enough to press the play button to hear it again.
Maybe I'd only known him a little while, and maybe it was really dramatic of me to feel like this, but I was devastated—crushed into a thousand pieces, torn to smithereens at the thought of losing him. But that was just how it had to be. I wanted him so badly that I cried frustrated tears.
I decided not to call him back since there was no way I'd have the strength to refuse him if he asked me to reconsider. I didn't text him either. I thought it was best to stop communication altogether, but just because it was me who stopped the conversation, didn't mean it hurt any less.
None of the Richies were at home, so I decided to go play their piano. With swollen, bloodshot eyes, I carried my bench over to their house. I played the last movement of Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3. It was the first time I'd played it since the incident in London, and I honestly thought I'd never play it again in my life.
At that moment, however, I needed to play it. The pain of playing it would perhaps lessen the pain of losing Drake. I played it three times in a row, and each time, it was flawless. It was like my fingers had been missing it. I played past the part where I froze in London as if I had no memory of it happening.
***
Piano became my diversion.
It became my obsession.
I spent the next weeks falling back in love with the instrument that had at one time been so special to me. I needed something to help me fill the gaping void left by Drake's absence, and the piano became my stand-in. I began spending a lot of my time in the practice rooms at the University. I was already familiar with some of the faculty, but during those weeks before school started, when I basically lived in the practice room, I got closer to many of them.
Call me a woman, but my newfound confidence at the piano had me changing plans again. I would still continue to study musicology as a secondary subject of interest, but I was switching my major back to performance.
The piano instructor at Miami was a world-class player and composer, and I was excited to get inspired by him. His name was Dr. Hornsby, and he came by the practice room regularly to listen in on me. He had connections with the symphony, and was already talking about getting them to feature me one night during the fall concerts in the park series. He told me it was something he needed an answer to immediately since their roster was already planned for this season, and it'd be a miracle if he could make it happen in the first place. I agreed to do it if he could get me a spot, and two days later, he called to tell me it was a done deal.
I would be featured on October 17th and we'd be playing Rachmanin
off's Piano Concerto No. 3. He knew it was one of my strongest concertos because he'd heard me playing it. He also knew it was the one I'd forgotten in London. I asked him if he really recommended me doing that one right out of the gate like this, and he said he wouldn't have set it up that way if he didn't think I could handle it.
Dr. Hornsby knew about my bench—that I never played without it, and that I believed it had supernatural powers, and even still with this bit of information, he wanted me to go ahead with the piece. The funny thing was, as the weeks passed, and the concert approached, I wasn't nervous about it at all. I placed all my confidence in my fingers just as I had been able to do in the past, and the feeling was amazing.
October 17th came before I knew it, and suddenly, it was the night of the concert. The fall concert series was an extremely popular event, and The Green, Miami's largest amphitheater, would be packed, as it was every week.
Sometime during the last couple of months, Megan talked me into going out with her friend, Lee, the sportscaster guy. We didn't have major fireworks or anything, but he was handsome, and we were a good match since we were both professionals who had our own creative endeavors. In other words, we barely ever saw each other, and that was fine with both of us. We'd been on a few dates, and didn't mind being together socially. It was a comfortable connection since we were friends with the same people.
Anyway, Lee and Megan, along with some of our other friends, were all coming to the concert. My parents and sister were driving down from Jensen and said they would try to find Megan and the others on the lawn when they got here.
Everyone got there early in order to get a good spot, and I could see them in a section on the right side of the lawn. There were about twenty people on those blankets and I could count at least three bouquets of flowers that I knew were intended for me. None of them could see me from behind the stage curtains, but I smiled anyway, loving the fact that they were there. I glanced out at the stage and saw my beautiful bench sitting at the piano and couldn't wait to get out there.
I'm happy to report that everything went well. I felt great that night, and it came across in my playing. I was able to forget everything but the keys for the time I was out there. I connected with the piano in a way I rarely did, and knew even while I was playing the piece, that it was one of the best efforts I'd ever put forward. It was as if my body was trying to redeem itself for betraying me in London, and honestly, I loved it.
I smiled as I hit the final note and let my hands fall to my sides. The crowd was cheering before I could even stand up and bow, and my eyes welled with tears and my heart sang with happiness and relief at the sound of the applause. I took a deep breath and a deep bow toward the audience before turning to gesture to the conductor and then to the orchestra.
The audience cheered loudly, and I waved and blew kisses, feeling overwhelmed with emotion that I'd actually just played for a crowd that size. I thought I'd never feel that way again, and the relief I got from it had me all choked up. I waved and smiled as I walked off the right side of the stage. I heard the sounds of the orchestra and audience packing up, and took comfort in the clatter and murmur of everyone gathering their things to go home.
The conductor followed me off the stage and congratulated me for the performance. I knew I played well, but he seemed blown away, and I was thankful for the kind words. I gave him a hug and told him what a pleasure it was working with him.
There were several people in the backstage area who wanted to say a few words, and the number increased as the orchestra players began coming off the stage. Everyone was really complementary about my playing and I returned the compliments and thanked them all graciously for allowing me to play. It was the most fun I'd had in a long time, and I was all-smiles as I spoke with members of the orchestra.
My family and friends stuck around. They'd stood up and gathered their things, but were still in about the same spot on the lawn. I posed for several photos before telling everyone backstage that I was going to meet my family on the lawn.
I was wearing an all black outfit as usual, but this time it wasn't a dress. This time I wore slim fitting black tuxedo shorts with a corset top layered over a black blouse. My outfit matched my bench in how whimsical they were, and I felt like they were both representative of me and my style of playing.
"You looked like a total rock star up there!" Megan yelled as I approached. The compliment made me blush, and I was thankful for the darkness of twilight. One of the stagehands was walking next to me holding my bench. He offered to bring it straight to my car, but I rarely let it out of my sight. I was used to lugging it around, and said I'd be happy to carry it myself, but he insisted. I told him I'd have help getting it to my car once we made it to my family, and he took me at my word. He greeted my family briefly, but was otherwise just there long enough to set the bench down.
My mom was the first to give me a handful of flowers, followed by five more handfuls, including some from Megan and Lee. I smiled from ear to ear as they recounted stories about watching me up there and things they heard the crowd say when I finished.
My parents began catching up with the Richies and Lee came to stand beside me. We never did any kind of PDA, but everyone who was there knew we'd been seeing each other a little lately, so no one was surprised that he made his way to me. Megan was standing on the other side of me where Lee couldn't see, and she turned to stare straight at my face with wide eyes that showed panic.
"That guy's here," she whispered. Her mouth was extremely stiff when she said it, making her words come out barely audible.
"What?" I whispered.
She gave me another panicked look, begging me to grasp what she was saying. "That pirate guy from next door is standing right over there."
My stomach tied into a thousand knots—even worse than when I was just on stage. I thought I would never see him again. I actually hoped I would never see him again. I hadn't looked through the hole in the wall even though Steven had long since rinsed out the dirt that was blocking the view.
I had, however, been back there, and I'd heard enough to know that Drake Kelly had moved on with life. The parties continued, and hearing girls back there one night when I was sitting on the bench was what made me agree to go out with Lee in the first place.
I only had a second to react.
I wanted to begin searching my surroundings for the person she was talking about, but I dared not look up. I stared at Megan with a sincere expression, begging her to tell me the truth.
"Are you sure?" I whispered, earnestly.
"Yes. He's standing right over there, holding flowers and looking straight at you."
I was desperate to see him, and felt nauseated with nerves and excitement at the thought of him being there that very second. We were both mumbling, and Lee got curious and peeked his head around to see what we were talking about. Megan and I both looked at him with the fakest of smiles.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Someone Addie used to go out with is here," Megan said.
Lee looked at me and I just smiled and nodded, confirming Megan's statement.
"You don't have to talk to him if it's uncomfortable," Lee said. "We can just get out of here. I was about to suggest that anyway."
"I probably need to talk to him for a second," I said, hoping Drake would be patient and wait for me. I looked at Megan. "Where is he?" I asked.
She pointed over my shoulder.
There was a group of palm trees along the edge of the lawn, and I saw him standing under them, holding onto a bouquet of flowers. It was mainly just his silhouette since the trees blocked the lights from hitting him, but it was unmistakably Drake.
"Holy shit, motherfucker. There's Captain Tom's son," Steven said, coming to stand by us when he caught sight of him.
"Shut up Steven, you have no idea what you're talking about," Megan snapped.
"He's a friend of mine, actually," I said.
I was unable to sit there with everyone while he
just stood there by himself. I couldn't stop myself from going to meet him. I set the handfuls of flowers I still had in my hand onto the bench and looked at Megan.
"I'll be back in just a second. Look after my bench with your life."
She smiled and nodded, and I started walking in Drake's direction, but turned back to look at the group as a whole. "I'll be right back guys, and I'm up for having a drink after this if anyone else wants to."
I started back in the direction of Drake, and he began to slowly walk toward me as I made my way to him. He held his arms out when we were just a few feet apart, and I walked into them without hesitation. I wanted to burst into tears at the relief of feeling his arms around me again.
"Shit Addie," was the first thing he said.
Chapter 21
I held him tightly for several seconds, until it hit me that my friends and family were probably watching, and I couldn't just stand there and melt into him like I wanted to.
I pulled back to look at him. "What are you doing here?" It was the stupidest question I could have asked, but I was overwhelmed, and couldn't come up with anything else.
"A month ago, I saw your name on a poster at a bakery. It said you'd be playing here tonight." He paused, but then continued. "I thought I had talked myself into believing I'd be fine without you—that I'd come tonight, and if you wouldn't have me, then I'd be okay with that and life would go on." He paused again and stared at me.
My eyes welled with tears as I took in the perfect face I'd been dreaming about since I first laid eyes on it.
"I'm not okay without you, Addie. Not having you isn't happening. It's not an option. I have to have you, so I'm gonna need you to be okay with that… okay?"
He reached out to pull me in again, but I resisted, knowing we were being watched. "Drake," I said, hopelessly. "I know your dad and brother don't want me around. I heard you guys talking. I know you have secrets that they don't want me finding out about. I know I'm not welcome there." I stared at him for a second, but then kept talking. "That in itself is reason enough, but in the interest of full disclosure, I have to tell you were right about that table. I didn't really want it. I only went to your house to meet you. And I only knew you existed because our backyards share a wall and we can see you guys through a little hole in it."
Finding the Magic (Tom Kelly's Boys Book 1) Page 14
