by Julie Blair
“Better,” Regan said, nudging her shoulder. This was a serious compliment in her no-frills style.
Last week, Regan had talked to her after rehearsal, a pep talk in a few short sentences about how she herself had sucked at jamming in the beginning. Their generosity was overwhelming and not at all what she was used to. The world of classical was harsh, or maybe she’d brought that out with the arrogance she now regretted.
“Sweet cakes,” Cassie crooned. “Be still, my heart.”
Jac smiled. She liked Cassie’s warmth and humor, but not her interest in a date. She waited. Finally, she sensed Liz next to her.
“You could have given me a head’s up.” Tired, but pleased.
“And ruin the surprise?” She tightened her grip on her trumpet. She wanted to pull Liz to her and offer comfort for whatever was bothering her. All the long hours with Liz were glorious and the hours apart filled with an ache she’d never felt before. She was more in love with Liz each day and had no idea what to do about it. So she poured all that feeling into the music. “Did you like it?”
“It was beautiful. You’re hearing more subtle things and responding to them.”
“You’re a great teacher.”
Sammy started an old Coltrane standard. Regan picked up the rhythm and then Cassie. Jamming. They did it at the end of every rehearsal.
“You can do it,” Liz said.
“No.” She was getting better at improvising with Liz, but listening to several musicians and trying to fit in, that she wasn’t up to. She walked to the too-soft couch and sat on the edge, reaching down to rub Max’s head. He loved all the attention the band lavished on him.
“Take it easy on your hand,” Liz’s dad said from the doorway.
Did he know something she didn’t? Was it hurting again? Maybe she’d pushed her too much. Damn it. She’d been soaking up Liz’s time and attention with no thought for her. Finally the song ended, and then Liz sat beside her.
“We’re going to do it again, and we want you to join us.”
“No.” She fingered the valves on her trumpet.
“Jazz isn’t about being concert perfect. You’re ready for this.”
“Come on,” her dad said, annoyance in his voice. “Dinner.”
“We’re not eating until you jam with us,” Sammy called out. “And I’m hungry, so get your butt over here.”
Cassie tapped her sticks together. Regan kept plunking the same annoying note. An invitation.
She did know the song. What if she came in on…she stood, her fingers trembling on the valves. She took her place between Sammy and Regan.
“We got your back,” Regan whispered in her ear. “There are no wrong notes.”
Jac put the trumpet to her lips, as nervous as the first time she’d stood in front of an orchestra, and shut out everything but listening and responding. She was breathing hard when they finished, but she couldn’t stop smiling.
“Not bad for a stuck-up critic,” Regan said, teasing in her voice. “You’ll do.”
“Whoo-hoo! Sign that girl up,” Cassie said.
“Yeah, I can play with her,” Sammy said.
A scary thought ran through her mind. Was that an audition? She walked to her trumpet case, took out her mouthpiece, and started wiping down her trumpet.
Sammy said, “Let’s eat, Pops.”
Regan said, “Missed you” to someone, probably Vicky. The door closed behind them.
“‘Carmel Sketches’ will be our encore at Monterey,” Liz said, standing beside her. “I want you to perform with us.”
Jac sank to the couch, emotions racing through her. Excitement. Panic. “It’s not smart. What if reaction to my interview is harsh? I don’t want it to taint your appearance.”
“I don’t care what public opinion is. I know you. What makes you think I’m not shamelessly using you for publicity?”
“I know you, too.” She clasped her hands to keep from touching Liz and swallowed the words that were always in her heart. I love you. I’d do anything for you. I want to be part of your life.
“Then it’s settled.”
“What about your dad?”
“It’s my band.”
“I don’t know—” Liz hugged her and words left her. Liz in her arms. Liz’s cheek against hers. A shudder and tears. Liz’s tears. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Liz stepped back and then the sound of her reaching into her pocket. She was back to needing Kleenex again.
“Is your wrist okay?”
“Almost a hundred percent. Let’s get over there before Sammy eats everything.”
The door banged open. “Hey, Jax,” Hannah said. Apparently she took liberties with everyone’s name. “I need to talk to you. Walk with me.” The moment with Liz was gone.
“This conversation isn’t over,” Jac said, as she picked up Max’s harness.
“Orange is Max’s color,” Hannah said as they walked toward the street. “He needs an orange harness.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“Okay, an orange bandana.”
“Maybe.” Hannah made everything seem like a good idea. “Topic?” she asked, or Hannah would be off on another tangent.
“Oh, yeah. Birthday. Liz’s. The thirty-first of this month.”
“That’s what’s bothering her.” The first one without Teri. That was big.
“You’re sharp. I like that about you. I also like how much better Lizzie’s been since hanging out with you. So, we need to rescue her from this God-awful idea Dad has for her birthday. He wants to have a surprise party for her at the club and invite all her friends, who were also Teri’s friends—a blast from the past.”
“He wouldn’t.” Jac shuddered at how awful that would be for Liz.
“He would.”
“Why don’t I throw a party for her? An old-fashioned barbecue with hot dogs and hamburgers. A bonfire and roasting marshmallows on the beach. She loves the beach.” Something she could do for Liz.
“Beach is exactly what I had in mind. Just a little farther west. I have an ex-girlfriend who’s a manager at the Hyatt Regency on Maui. Your parents live on Maui. Voilà.”
Jac stopped. “You want us, you and me, to take Liz to Hawaii? In…twenty days?”
“A couple less. Her birthday’s on a Sunday, and I want to leave the Friday before. Come back on Monday. She starts classes on Tuesday. We’ll make it an end-of-summer hurrah. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you that Teri’s birthday was three days after Liz’s.”
No wonder Liz was sinking again.
“She’ll need all kinds of distractions, and I have some ideas. We’ll keep her so busy she won’t have time to mope.”
“Isn’t your dad going to be upset?”
“That’s the beauty of it. He can’t be. You announce at dinner that your parents just called and want you to come over for Labor Day weekend, and you’d really, really love it if Liz would go with you since you’re blind and haven’t traveled and all that.”
“What if she doesn’t want to go?”
Hannah snorted. “Hawaii or weird party at the club?”
“Let me make a phone call. I’ll be over in a minute.”
“I’ll wait. I don’t need you getting crunched crossing the street and ruining our plans.”
“Some of us use crosswalks.”
“What fun is that? Stick with me and I’ll show you how to live dangerously. Can I take your gorgeous dog for a walk while I wait?”
“Sure.” She handed Max off to Hannah, amused by Hannah’s constant chatter to him. She’d barely left Carmel in ten years. Hawaii. It was crazy. Could she? Her parents were back from Australia and would be thrilled if she visited. “I need you to listen to something totally impossible,” she said when Peg answered, “and then help me figure out how to do it.” She explained Hannah’s plan.
“First thing tomorrow I’m taking you shopping,” Peg said. “You are not wearing wool pants and sweaters to Hawaii. Shorts, sleeveless tops, swimsuit�
��”
Jac half listened as pictures of walking on the beach with Liz ran through her mind. Four days in paradise with her. Her life had become the biggest improvisation of all, and she loved every minute of it.
Chapter Twenty-five
Liz jerked awake and sucked in a breath. Hannah was nudging her elbow on the armrest between their seats. She rubbed her cheek. She remembered closing her eyes, but how had her head ended up on Jac’s shoulder?
“Look.” Hannah pointed out the window of the plane. The thin strap of her flowery sundress slid from her shoulder, and she pushed it back up.
“Which one is Maui?” Liz leaned across Hannah. The islands were tiny dots of green in the churning blue of the ocean.
“Second from the bottom,” Jac said. “Good nap?”
“I’ve had softer pillows.” Liz got the raised eyebrow she was hoping for.
“And the last time I was drooled on, it was Max.”
“You’re—not teasing.” She thumbed the wet spot on Jac’s blazer. “Don’t tell Peggy I drooled on your new outfit.” Pale-yellow blazer. Gold blouse. A brighter look, but then everything about Jac was brighter in the last few weeks. And her playing…a chill went up Liz’s spine just thinking about it—elegant and sophisticated she was used to, but where had that sensuality and rawness come from? It was like Jac was reinventing herself through her playing.
“It’s a great look on you, Jax,” Hannah said. “You should have gone shopping with them.” She plucked at Liz’s jeans and lifted the hem of her limp T-shirt.
Liz swatted Hannah’s hand. “They’re comfortable.” She wasn’t about to tell Hannah she felt frumpy. Okay, so she’d let her wardrobe slip since Teri’s death, but she wasn’t dressing to impress a girlfriend. “Can we snorkel this afternoon?”
“You can.” Hannah rubbed her palms together. “I plan to be—”
“Thank you for not sharing. Last weekend you were with…oh, I don’t even remember her name. Your libido has the attention span of a mosquito.”
“Bzzz.” Hannah waved her hand, imitating a mosquito, and then pinched Liz’s arm. “Yours could use a tune-up.”
Her libido was fine. Frustratingly fine the last couple of months. Masturbating gave her relief, but it left out all the best parts—kissing, touching, being held. Sharing. How did you turn that off? Would it fade with time?
“How’s yours, Jax?”
Liz scowled at Hannah. “Is everything about sex with you?”
“Shall I ask Kerri to fix you up?” Hannah asked Jac.
“Max makes those kinds of decisions for me, and since he’s not here…” Jac shrugged.
“Don’t encourage her.” Jac seemed to find Hannah’s antics amusing. Liz scowled at Hannah when she did the mosquito thing with her hand again.
“New song?” Jac asked. “You’re humming again.”
“I don’t know I’m doing it. Teri said I hummed in my sleep.” She was composing more than she had in years, and she loved the new sound.
“You hummed before you talked,” Hannah said. “I’ll bet Dad still has the first songs you wrote out with crayon. I’m surprised he hasn’t posted them on your website along with all the other childhood memorabilia.”
“I asked him to stop doing that.” He was throwing himself into band business in an annoying way. Something was up with him, but he insisted he was fine whenever she asked. She nudged Jac’s shoulder. “You’re fingering on your pants.”
“Touché. A new arrangement for the piece we worked on yesterday. It’s funny how music owns us.”
“Yeah, but who brings their trumpet on vacation?”
“Someone who in exactly three weeks will be back on a stage.”
“Excited?”
“Terrified,” Jac whispered, faking a shiver.
“I told you the reaction to the article would be favorable.”
Jac pursed her lips. It was hard to get her to talk about it since it had come out two weeks ago.
Liz’s friend had done a masterful job with the article. Yes, Jacqueline Richards had been in a lesbian bar and had left with a woman. Yes, she’d been married at the time. She’d detailed Jac’s injuries and stated them as the reason she’d retired. She’d also done research on the accident, and they now knew that Stephanie’s father was a powerful attorney who’d been running for judge at the time of the accident. Her friend’s take on it was that he’d kept her name out of the media to avoid any scandal.
There’d been the expected gossip and rehashing of the accident, which had probably added to the spectacular sales of the anniversary CD collection. But the question most asked was whether Jac would perform again. She’d hired someone to handle relations with the press and managed to keep her life pretty much the way it had been. It was going to be blown wide open after her appearance at the jazz festival. Liz hoped she was doing the right thing by encouraging Jac’s comeback.
“I hate this part,” Liz said after the announcement about starting their descent. Jac offered her hand and she took it, telling herself she wouldn’t squeeze as hard as she had on takeoff.
Frank and Susan, Jac’s parents, were waiting for them. They sandwiched Jac in a long hug, tears in their eyes. Liz gave the moment the respect it deserved, then made them pose for pictures she texted to Peggy, as promised.
“Wow. I’m in Hawaii.” She’d been dreading her birthday. Instead, she was on a tropical vacation. Life was surprising her lately in good ways.
Jac hooked her fingers on the inside of Liz’s elbow as they walked through the small airport, Hannah chatting about local restaurants with Jac’s parents. They’d practiced at home until she could guide Jac almost as well as Max. The last-minute plans hadn’t left enough time to get Max certified to enter Hawaii because of the rabies laws. She veered them left and right around people and luggage. His job was harder than it looked.
*
Jac held Liz’s elbow as they walked beside her parents toward the entrance to the Hyatt Regency. They were meeting Hannah and Kerri for dinner. She missed Max terribly and hated being dependent on people to lead her, but she hated the white cane more. The trade-off for the dependency was the guarantee of being close to Liz. Her fingers were dangerously near Liz’s breast, and her heart responded with too-rapid beats. Foolishness, but a delicious kind of foolishness she couldn’t resist indulging. Nothing would come of her feelings. At least with Liz she knew that up front. She wouldn’t be blindsided again.
“Wow,” Liz said, her steps slowing. “The lobby is a huge atrium. Palm trees and plants everywhere, exotic birds in cages and on perches. Oh, my gosh, there are penguins over there.”
“Would you rather stay here?” She tried to visualize the lobby from Liz’s description. She’d been in hundreds of fancy hotels, but everything was new and exciting with Liz.
“Me and Hannah in one room? Disaster waiting to happen.”
Good. Jac wanted to soak up every minute of this Labor Day weekend with Liz, the end of an idyllic six weeks since the day she’d first played with her. Long days of walking, sharing music, relaxed evenings with Peg and Roger. Friendship she’d never had. When they returned on Monday, Liz would stay in San Jose. Her classes started Tuesday. Jac would see her at band rehearsals until Monterey. Maybe on weekends after that. It wouldn’t be the same, and she dreaded the impending change.
“Let’s get a picture of the three of you for Peggy,” Jac’s dad said.
She smiled, but only because Liz’s arm was around her waist. She didn’t like having her picture taken, but she couldn’t blame Peg for wanting to be part of this trip. Their relationship had shifted recently, like some barrier between them had come down. They’d talked a lot about the accident and the aftermath, cried a lot. Some strain that Peg always seemed to carry was gone.
“Lizzie!” Hannah joined them. “This is my friend Kerri. She’s reserved a table for us in the bar, but I need to borrow Lizzie. We’ll catch up with you.”
Jac took her mom’s elbow as they
walked, wondering what Hannah was up to now. She’d planned all sorts of surprises to make the weekend special for Liz.
“I can’t get over the fact that you’re here,” her mom said. “And hearing you play with Liz this afternoon…we can’t wait for Monterey. Maybe it’ll be the start of a new career.”
“Not performing.” It had been grueling when she had her sight. “I might produce albums.” She was getting inquiries from some notable names in jazz. She still had moments when guilt settled heavily on her, but she was slowly accepting that Liz was right—it had been a tragic accident and she wasn’t to blame. It was a better life than she’d thought possible.
*
“Stop tugging on it, Lizzie,” Hannah said as they walked down the sweeping staircase to the bar. “You look beautiful.”
Who was she to argue with Hannah’s fashion sense? “This hotel is kind of over the top.” Postcard views everywhere she looked, and the tropical ambience was intoxicating.
“It’s supposed to be. Fun and fantasy. That’s what a tropical vacation is all about.”
“I forget I’m the only one who hasn’t had one.” The bar was like something out of a movie with dark rattan furniture, lazily circling ceiling fans, and containers of tropical plants that gave it the sense of being a secluded hideaway. An aquarium took up the far wall. She recognized some of the fish she’d seen while snorkeling that afternoon. It was one of the best things she’d ever done.
“Doesn’t Jax look yummy?”
“She’s not a dessert.” More like a cool drink—yellow pants and a pastel lime-green, sleeveless top. Yes, Peggy had outdone herself. Shorts and sleeveless fuchsia blouse this afternoon, and a midnight-blue swimsuit cut high on the hip that accentuated her shapely legs.
“Oh, come on. She might be a great trumpet player, but she’s drop-dead gorgeous. And that outfit…” Hannah gave a long low whistle.
“I saw it.” Geez, enough already. “Can we go shopping tomorrow? I want a new swimsuit.” Maybe some new shorts and blouses.
“You’re the birthday girl. Just not too early.” Hannah sat next to Kerri, who greeted her with a tasteful kiss. They were a stunning couple—Hannah in an open-backed halter dress perfectly accessorized, looking every bit the sophisticated world-class chef; Kerri, suntanned and dark-haired, with an equally eye-catching dress.
