The lead struck the opening chord with a reverberation that made Samantha's eardrums flutter. With perfect timing, the rest of the instruments joined in. The song's fast and rollicking beat pulsed throughout the club while the dance floor filled with a throng of young, squealing girls who clapped and shimmied to the tempo. The lead singer's raspy voice made her think of Bob Seger, one of her father’s favourites during her childhood.
“They're incredible!” she shouted to her companions, swaying on her chair. She watched, spellbound. Gina and Mandy rose and moved together out onto the crowded dance floor.
Veronica gave a slight nod and downed the rest of her drink.
Samantha knew it would be hard to have an actual conversation with all the blaring music, but she'd wanted to ask Veronica something in private. It had weighed on her mind ever since she got back in town, and this was her first opportunity. She leaned toward her sister and tapped her on the arm to beckon her closer.
“Are you in contact with Ben at all these days?” she bawled in her ear.
Veronica straightened up, shaking her head. “No, and that's only half the story,” she shouted in reply.
“What do you mean?”
“You think I give a rat’s ass about anything he's got to say? Nothing’s changed on that front. Get real.”
“Do you know if he’s all healed from the car accident?”
“Yeah. I think so. I've spoken to his father once or twice when he called from Halifax. Hey, did Momma tell you about Officer Randy?”
“Ewww, no. What about him?” Randy was the RNC officer who had dated their mother for a short time, back in 1993. He had also been the cop that had given chase after her and Ben during their ill-fated escape together in the Thunderbird convertible.
“Had a heart attack on the job. Keeled over dead, she heard.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, excuse me for not weeping over him. At least he can’t smack women around anymore.”
“Amen to that.”
Samantha thought of her sister’s single-parent status. “Momma told me what Henry asked you the other day. How he wondered why he didn’t have a daddy.”
Veronica inspected her perfect, French-manicured fingernails. “That was a tough one.”
“You told him he lived far away?”
“Yep, and not all families have a daddy living with them.”
“But what about child support?”
“What about it?”
“Is Ben giving him any yet?”
Veronica gave her an exasperated look. “No, he isn't. Listen, Sam. I'd prefer to skip this discussion right now. Are you trying to ruin my night out?”
“Of course, you would think that! I heard you broke up with O.J. What happened there?”
“What the heck is this? Are you writing a book about me or something? It ran its course, is all!” She pushed herself away from the table. “I'm going to the bar.”
Samantha knit her brow. What the devil was going on? Could she be saying that Ben refused to assist with his own son’s upbringing? She knew there was no love lost between Veronica and Ben, but she failed to understand how the young man she had known and loved years ago could shirk his responsibility in such a casual way. How could he be so immature? Or was he strapped for cash and unable to help? And what did his father want to talk to Veronica about during those calls? She sighed, looking down into her half-empty glass.
The band had finished their first number as the others rejoined her at their table. Veronica had bought a second round for everyone, though Samantha didn’t know if she wanted another quite yet.
“Hellooo, beautiful people!” the lead singer yelled into the microphone. “Thank you all so much for coming out to see us at the Cosmopolitan this evening!” The crowd whooped and hollered their appreciation before he continued. “We've got a special treat for you lovely folks tonight. We're going to change things up a bit right now. Please give a warm, welcoming round of applause for Kalen, our fabulous bass player and backup singer, who has begged me to let him perform this next selection for you.” With that, a chorus of shouts and whistles, along with the stamping of many feet, rose from the female population of the dance club.
“Yay, Kalen!” shrieked a girl’s voice from the rear of the room.
“Hang on a sec.” The lead turned back to the band. Kalen said something to him out of earshot. “Correction. The next number, sung by Kalen himself, is going out to a certain lady friend of his who has graced us with her presence here tonight. This song is for you, Samantha!”
Throughout the appreciative applause, Samantha's face burned scarlet, making her thankful for the dim lighting around her table. Heads rotated in all directions in search of the lady friend in question. While Gina clapped her on the back as if to congratulate her, Mandy tittered and Veronica smirked.
She peeked up through her eyelashes as Kalen changed places with the lead, adjusting the stand to draw the microphone up to his own height. Looking down at her, he leaned in and started to sing.
Chapter Three
“Where words fail, music speaks.”
― Hans Christian Andersen
His voice crooned deep and sexy, yet boyish enough to hit the high notes, and the Counting Crows song he’d chosen to sing to her was one of her pet favourites. How had he known? Finding herself giddy under the spell he cast, she couldn't stop grinning. Something deep in her chest swelled with emotion. She remained acutely aware of the focus on her in her immediate area, which compounded her self-consciousness.
Despite her embarrassment, she loved it. No one had made her feel this special in eons.
When at last he finished the final refrain, she joined in with the thunderous clapping and hollering.
“Gawd, that was gorgeous!” Gina shouted at her. She regarded Samantha with envious eyes. “I sense a torch being carried for somebody!”
“Go 'way, the lot of you,” Veronica yelled at them. “How gullible are you people? He only did it to try and make every girl in the club fall in love with him.”
Mandy jerked her head around to stare at Veronica. “Jealous much?” she teased. “Hmm. You could have a point, though. Even I got a bit of a thrill that time.”
Samantha tipped her head back and laughed with everyone at Mandy’s comment. She decided, then, against reading too much into Kalen's gesture, in case her sister might be right. Still, she knew what she'd be thinking about in her bed tonight!
The rest of the set passed in a warm, happy and noisy blur. Even with the engaging music and party atmosphere, Samantha opted out of dancing. Two guys tried to coax her out on the floor, but she declined. The thought of hopping and gyrating about in front of Kalen and the band mortified her. Besides, she had chosen the wrong garb for the evening; the bulky turtleneck sweater and sheepskin-lined Uggs were already making her sweat in the hot confines of all this close-knit revelry. She wondered if she would get a chance to talk to her old friend when the band stopped for their first break, hoping and dreading it at the same time.
She needn't have wondered. As soon as the last song for the set came to an end, he leaned his bass against one of the amplifiers and sprang down off the stage, heading in her direction with purpose.
“Samantha, you are a sight for sore eyeballs,” he said, standing in front of their table and giving her a candid appraisal.
“Hi, Kalen. You're not so bad yourself.” She ignored the tremor in her voice as a wave of body heat billowed up from under the thick wool of her sweater. “That was one incredible job you did on A Long December! And the whole band is wicked.”
With a wink and a lopsided smile, he crouched down next to her, resting his forearms on the table. He nodded to the others. “Great to see all of you here. Veronica Cross, you're looking insanely pretty, as usual.”
Veronica arched her flawlessly plucked and groomed eyebrows at him. “And you're laying it on insanely thick, as usual.”
He seemed to brush off the remark, turning back to chat with Samantha. “Hav
e you finished art school yet? Or are you only off for Christmas?” His arms fell around her shoulders and gave her a quick, bracing hug. Startled, but pleased, she returned the hug.
“Yeah, a break between semesters. How about you? I heard something about you going to trades school?”
“You, my dear, are looking at a newly minted Heavy Equipment Operator. I graduated last spring, but so far, I’ve only gotten scattered work here and there. No luck yet finding a full-time position. Therefore, this gig and a couple odd jobs for the time being.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something more permanent soon.”
He rose to his full height and grinned down at her. “That’s the idea. In the meantime, I'm having a ball! Listen, I’ve got to grab a beer before the next set. You should stick around. I hoped, uh, maybe you'd give me your number? We could get together over the holidays for a drink or a bite to eat. Or just hang. Hard to talk here in this madness.”
“Sure, sounds doable.” Samantha smiled back at him, relieved to see Veronica and the others distracted by a pair of new arrivals who were Mandy’s friends. She rummaged through her shoulder bag for a pen and paper. With quick and jittery fingers, she jotted down her mother's phone number and gave it to him.
At two in the morning, when she and Veronica arrived at their mother's place, Samantha was about to head to bed when her sister asked her to wait. She wanted to ask her a question.
“So, I take it you're hoping to go out with him?” Veronica asked, her eyes averted as she took off her coat and boots in the entryway.
Ron doesn’t miss a trick, she said to herself. “With Kalen? What’s wrong with that? He's an old pal, sure.”
“Listen up: I'd be cautious if I were you. Besides the obvious fact he isn’t your type, there's this rumour I heard about him.”
Samantha glowered at her. “What do you know about my type? What makes you the expert on me? You barely give me the bloody time of day, Ron. And as for gossip—”
“The word on the street, my dear, says he’s quite the playboy. Think he's going to settle for someone like you when he's got tons of drooling hot girls eating out of his hand? Better think again, darling. Every single woman around wants a piece of the sexy bass player from Cold Plate. And some of the marrieds, from what I heard.”
“Hah! You're a fine one to talk. Someone else who can't settle. Ever since you broke up with Andy last July, you’ve gone through men like I go through art supplies. Your entire dating life is a revolving door.”
Veronica's smirk changed into a scowl. “Since when are my dates any of your concern?”
“Since when are mine any of yours? Just because you threw away a perfect boyfriend like Andy doesn’t give you a license to shit all over Kalen. Or anyone else I might choose to date!” Her sister and Andrew’s breakup after a steady relationship of close on two years had never made sense to Samantha. The guy had appeared ideal for Veronica, and her single-mother status hadn’t seemed an issue for him at all. He’d been hands on for helping with Henry, caring for the baby boy whenever he was needed and available.
Walking down the narrow hall to the spare bedroom she shared with Henry tonight, Veronica threw over her shoulder: “Goodnight, little sister.”
Samantha went to the bathroom to pee and to take out her contact lenses. She retired to her own small bedroom and stretched out on the single bed, tucking the frayed patchwork quilt around her. Who said anything about settling for one guy, anyway? They were yet to have one lousy date! She was young and still in the process of earning her Fine Arts degree. Not to mention being burned before by Ben Swift, the one and only boy she’d ever been involved with, intimately or otherwise. Sometimes the biggest things you wish for in life are clearly out of reach. They are unattainable, no matter how much you may want them. She knew that firsthand.
All she wanted, for now, was to chip her way out of the protective shell she’d built around herself over the past four years. To have fun and enjoy life for a change; enough already of the cloistered existence she’d grown accustomed to. She deserved a reward for all her hard work and sacrifice, and her complete celibacy since her heart got bashed to smithereens. Aware of her many uncertainties, her shyness and her introversion, she still yearned to taste life as much as any other young woman her age.
In an instant, she fell into a dream, filled with Kalen's smile.
***
Samantha zipped up Henry's tiny red parka and helped him put on his woolen mittens. To show his impatience, he stamped in his boots while she pulled a thick stocking cap on his bobbing head.
“Let-th go, Thammie,” he chanted in singsong, running for the door.
“Wait, Henry, I have to get dressed too, you know,” Samantha chided. She had agreed to take her nephew to the Village Mall this afternoon to see Chris Moose and to get his picture taken with Santa while his mother and grandmother worked. Quality time with the boy remained something she longed for whenever she made it home for a visit, so she accepted with enthusiasm any opportunity to babysit him.
While Henry ate his lunch, she'd hurried to straighten her hair the way she wore it most of the time. Using the iron on her mane guaranteed the curls would be tamed for a couple of days at least, and she liked the way it hung long and sleek down her back like Veronica's. Not blonde like hers, but attractive enough.
Sauntering through the mall, Samantha stirred with the beginnings of an errant festive mood, surprised at how easy it was to let herself fall into it. She’d adjusted her usual, cynical attitude toward the holidays this year, deciding to embrace it with all its silly, sentimental trappings for Henry's sake, if for no other reason.
The shopping center, decked out for the season in gaudy red, green and gold décor, and resonant with animated selections of Christmas carol muzak that piped throughout the stores, added to the somewhat artificial Yuletide spirit. Upon arrival, little Henry had been terrified of the giant talking moose figure and the mob of other children crowded around it, so she decided to treat him to a milkshake at the food court before attempting the Santa photo. She had a suspicion that wasn't going to go over well with the tot either.
Along their way, they passed the book store near the stairs descending to the first floor. Samantha peered into its interior with longing, wishing for a free moment to browse the bestsellers, but she knew Henry couldn’t stand still and behave for that long. Besides, she’d made a promise to herself at fifteen to put most of her concentration on the classics, which, so far, she had lived up to admirably. The Brontë sisters, Jane Austen, Tolstoy and most of Dickens behind her, she had now moved on to Thomas Hardy. The Woodlanders lay bookmarked and waiting next to her bed.
Thinking of books flung her back to the fateful summer day in 1993 when she’d first met Ben, working part-time in the used book store downtown. She still thought of him often and wondered if he'd gotten over the nightmare of his mother's suicide. But how does one get over something so dreadful and life-changing? She hoped he'd found a semblance of peace, at least, or some way of coping with the profound tragedy.
“Take Auntie's hand, Henry,” she said at the top of the stairs. The lad grabbed her fingers with his. His mittens dangled from strings that ran through the sleeves of his parka, and his heavy winter boots clopped on every step. It was slow going, so half-way down Samantha lifted him up and carried him the rest of the way until they arrived at the chosen food court counter.
“I'll get us a couple of milkshakes, alright? Do you want chocolate?”
“Yeth!” he shouted.
“Okay, chocolate it is.”
While she slurped her shake and Henry made a fine mess with his, she daydreamed of her first and only boyfriend again. Sweet sixteen and wildly in love she’d been then. In many ways, she still loved Ben. And though he was her sister's ex, and they hadn't known until after he and Samantha had begun dating that he'd left Veronica pregnant, it still hadn't been enough to douse the flame. If anything, it had made them more determined than ever to stay together,
spurring them to run away in his father's Thunderbird. Right or wrong, those were the facts.
But only sixteen! She thought of the naïve young girl she used to be. A child, really. Why had everything seemed so urgent, so dire, so pivotal for her that summer? She had let immaturity and foolishness rule her, much like her mother had described her own actions at one time. Darlene had dropped out of college to marry Samantha’s father, as if her life could be about only one or the other. Her friends were all getting married and she didn’t want to be any different.
And also like Darlene, the star-crossed, teenaged Samantha had viewed her life and her circumstances back then through a “now or never, do or die” filter. She’d been in far too big a hurry to grow up.
That August, the horrific crash on the rain-slick highway had ended everything. Ben had sustained most of the physical injuries, injuries so severe he hadn’t had much choice but to move with his dad, who’d found a new and better job in Nova Scotia, and to undergo extensive treatment there. When Samantha told him she believed it best they parted ways, it had finalized that choice.
She wondered for the thousandth time if he knew she had done it for him.
“Let Auntie wipe your chin,” she said softly, coddling the boy as he wriggled away from her on his chair. “You don't want Santa to see you with a messy milkshake face, do you?”
Henry giggled. “Thanta, Thanta, Thanta,” he chanted, swaying back and forth. “Thanta ith gonna bring me toyth,” he told her, his clear blue eyes wide with astonishment, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune at such a sweet deal. A pair of elderly ladies at the food court table next to them beamed at him and nodded at Samantha.
Calmer Secrets: Calmer Girls 2 (Calmer Girls Series) Page 3
