by JL Paul
The kitchen was warm and inviting, the scent of coffee lingering in the air. Mrs. B. bustled about, whipping eggs in a bowl while bacon sizzled in a pan.
“Good morning,” Sidney greeted as she took a seat at the breakfast bar.
“Good morning, dear,” Mrs. B said. “Coffee?”
“Please.”
Mrs. B fetched a mug and filled it with coffee, scooting it across the breakfast bar to Sidney. She pointed at a silver tray containing sugar and cream.
As Sidney prepared her coffee, Mrs. B kept up a commentary on what mornings were usually like.
“Rob isn’t much of a late sleeper,” she said. “Unless he’s been out late or something.”
Nodding, Sidney sipped her coffee, welcoming the warm caffeine into her veins.
“Eggs and bacon all right with you?” Mrs. B asked, pouring the eggs into a pan. Donning a spatula, she gave them a stir.
“That’s fine,” Sidney said, not bothering to mention that her usual breakfast was a few pieces of toast and coffee.
“Morning, ladies,” Rob said as he slipped into the chair next to Sidney. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, thanks,” Sidney said with a smile.
“Good,” he said, grinning at Mrs. B as she handed him a cup of coffee. “So, you think it’s a good idea if I get the band back to work on a new CD, huh?”
Sidney’s head snapped toward him, her mouth slightly agape, not expecting such a conversation so early in the morning. “Yes, I do.”
He screwed up his face as he dumped sugar in his cup. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I thought about it most of the night – could hardly sleep. It’s going to be tough, though, you know? I’ve got a lot invested in this studio. I can’t shirk my responsibilities there but I can’t let my band mates down, either.”
Sidney placed a soft hand on his arm. “I’ll help you any way I can. Just tell me what you need done and I’ll do it.”
He took her hand, giving it a squeeze. Her heart gave a tiny leap. “I know you will, and I appreciate it. It’s just that there is still a lot for you to learn. You’ve only been here about a month and we haven’t gone over everything.”
She glanced at their joined hands and forced her brain to work. “Well, say you work three days a week on the CD, I could shadow you the other two days and learn what needs to be done.”
“Those will be some late nights,” he warned. “Things seem to pile up when I take a day or two away from the office.”
Rolling her eyes, she placed her free hand on his. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks – to help you with that sort of thing.”
He looked at her, his eyes digging deep into hers. She could almost see the gears in his head turning, processing information and figuring what to do with it.
He released a long breath. “Okay, let’s give this a shot. I’ll call the boys later and set up a meeting.”
“Excellent,” she said, beaming. In a bold move, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “It will all work out, you’ll see.”
“I hope,” he said as Mrs. B. placed plates in front of them both. He released her hand to pick up a fork. “This could either turn out great or it could turn into a disaster.”
Three
Late Monday morning, Sidney sat at Rob’s desk, weeding through spreadsheets, cutting and pasting info to a fresh report. So engrossed was she in her work that she didn’t hear the door open or the newcomers clearing their throats.
“Hello?”
The voice snapped Sidney’s concentration, forcing her head away from the computer. Two men stood just inside the doorway – two men she recognized but had never met.
The first was tall and lean with straight black hair that reached his collar. He had dark eyes and a friendly smile. Sidney knew him as Paul Rand, guitarist for Society Lost.
His companion was slightly shorter, a tad chunky, and very shaggy. His frizzy hair and goatee nearly hid his bright eyes and amused smile. He, of course, was drummer Bruno Marxon.
“Hey, um, can I help you guys?” Sidney asked as she stood, her fingers tapping a nervous beat on the desk.
“Yeah,” said Bruno. “Where’s Rob? He told us to come down today and we can’t find the man anywhere.”
“Oh, um, well, I’m not sure,” Sidney said, nibbling her bottom lip. “He might be in Chad’s office.”
“Duh, Paulie,” Bruno said, giving his friend a playful shove. “We didn’t check Chad’s office.”
Sidney stared as they continued to banter like toddlers on a playground, not sure if she should interrupt or let it run its course. Before she could decide, Rob appeared.
“There you guys are. We’re meeting in Chad’s office so Sidney can work in here.”
Bruno’s massive grin burst through his facial hair. “Oh, hey, Sidney. Nice to meet you. We’ve heard all about you.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Sidney said in a quiet voice.
Rob gave her a quick wave before ushering the others out of the office. Once they left, she settled behind the desk again but her mind wasn’t on her work – it was down the hall. She wondered what they were deciding, if they were all onboard to start a new project. And how would that affect things at the studio? Sure, she’d be all for Society Lost putting out new material, but she had finally gotten into a groove and hated to see things flipped upside-down.
That’s not it and you know it.
Shaking her head, she hoped to dispel that irritating little voice. It didn’t work, though. It continued to taunt her as she stared at spreadsheets.
You like him. You like being around him. You don’t want to think that he might leave for an extended period.
Scrunching her face in frustration, she waged a silent argument, telling that little voice that she wasn’t interested in Rob in a romantic manner. He was her friend. He was one of the first friends she’d actually made since her grammar school days. She would just miss him now that she was so used to having him around.
Satisfied with her reasoning, she pushed her hair out of her face and got back to work.
An hour and a half later, Rob entered the room and stopped in front of the desk.
“Let’s go to lunch.”
“Okay,” Sidney said, saving her work and closing the laptop. “You’re buying, though.”
Laughing, he waited until she walked around the desk before he crossed the room to the door. “Okay, but I might have to take out a loan. I’ve seen you eat.”
Snorting, she followed him to the elevators.
Once they were seated in Rob’s favorite diner down the street, she tapped her fingers on the table, raising a brow in his direction. “Something up?”
“No,” he said as he leaned back, gazing around the restaurant.
His lack of eye contact spoke differently but she ignored it for the time being. She’d bide her time, waiting for an opening to try again.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked after the waitress deposited their drinks. Sucking on a straw, she watched him over the rim of her glass.
“Great,” he said as he stirred the ice in his tea with a straw. “Everyone is excited to get back into the studio.”
“That’s good,” she said. “So, do you have a lot of new material?”
He lifted a shoulder as he took a drink, avoiding her eyes again.
That’s what it is, she thought. He’s worried about his music.
Silence descended upon them as they waited for their food. Sidney took his cue and glanced around the room, checking out the other occupants. Most of the people were older, enjoying an early lunch. One booth near the back contained a group of gentlemen who looked to be in their late sixties, eating sandwiches and telling stories. Sidney watched them, a soft smile on her lips, wondering if her father would have been like that had he lived.
“How are those financial reports coming?” he asked. He took a turn drumming his fingers on the table, still not looking at her but out the large window instead.
“Fine,” she
said, turning away from the older men. “I should finish them this afternoon. I’ll print out a hard copy for the file and email you a digital copy for your digital files.”
He nodded, feigning interest in the traffic backing up outside. “Sure.”
The waitress brought their food with a smile and left them to eat. Sidney immediately began doctoring her burger with tons of ketchup and mustard, plucking off the onions with her fingers.
“Why do you order onions if you don’t like them?” Rob asked as he salted his fries.
“I asked for no onions,” Sidney frowned.
“Oh,” he said as he snatched them off the edge of her plate, lifted the bun on his burger, and dropped them on top the patty. He winked at her before replacing the bun.
Rolling her eyes, she took a large bite, chewing furiously as he continued to toy with his food. “So, are you ever going to tell me what’s got you all…sullen?”
“Sullen?” he asked, his brows drawn. “What are you talking about?”
“Something is obviously bothering you,” Sidney said, placing her burger on her plate. She picked up her tea and took a drink.
Sighing heavily, Rob shoved his plate back. “It’s nothing, really. I guess I’m just… I don’t know. I’ve been working so hard on the studio that I haven’t really been working on music. I have some stuff that I’ve messed around with a little bit when I’ve had some down time, but I don’t know that it’s any good.”
“I’m sure it is,” Sidney said, scoffing. “All your stuff is.”
Shaking his head, a slight smile toyed around the corners of his mouth. “Said like a true fan girl.”
“Oh, please,” Sidney said, throwing a fry at him. It bounced off his chest and fell into his lap. “I’m being honest, here.”
“Okay,” he said as he swept the fry off his lap. “Well, if you’re so honest, why don’t you come by my place tonight and check out what I have so far? I’ll even feed you again – if I have enough food in my pantry, that is.”
Lifting a brow, she leaned over the table. “You calling me fat?”
“Hell no,” he said. “I just can’t believe the way you eat – I mean, where do you put it?”
She continued to stare at him, brow near her hairline, for a few minutes before sitting back and picking up her burger. To prove his point, she took another large bite, making him laugh. Once she swallowed and washed it down with a sip of tea, she nodded.
“Fine, I’ll take a look at it.”
“Excellent,” he said, pulling his plate toward him.
***
They sat on his deck, she at a table near the rail and he in a cushy chair, margarita in hand. She flipped through a hard cover book with blank staffs – three quarters of the book was full of Rob’s scratchy notes and lyrics - mouthing words and bobbing her head in rhythm with the notes on the page. The sun began its slow descent just over her shoulder, tossing its last warm rays toward her back and creating a warm, fuzzy feeling.
A tall margarita glass stood just past the notebook, sweltering in the setting sun, leaving wet rings on the wood. Sidney paid it no mind as she immersed herself into the melodies. Finally, as the sun was saying its last goodbyes, Rob spoke.
“There’s not that much there, Rookie.”
“Huh?” she said, jumping at his voice. A lovely red flushed her cheeks as she reluctantly closed the notebook. “Oh, sorry. It’s just that what you have so far is so good that I wanted to read it again.”
Tilting his head, he set his glass on the table next to his chair. “You think so, huh?”
“I do,” she said, sipping her watery drink to avoid his eyes. “It’s pretty amazing.”
Picking up his drink, he crossed the deck to sit across from her. “Thanks, Rookie. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” she whispered, his nearness affecting her brain. “You did the work.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he said, scooting the notebook toward him, flipping through the pages. “It’s not enough for a CD, but I have some more stuff stewing in the back of my mind.”
“You’re on a roll,” Sidney said, leaning across the table. “You’ll fill that book in no time.”’
“Maybe,” he said, closing the book. Cocking his head again, he considered her carefully, his crocked smile flickering across his lips. He took a long drink of his margarita, finishing it off, and then stood, grabbing her glass. “Refills.”
“Okay,” Sidney said, watching him stroll into the house. He emerged a few minutes later with fresh drinks. He set the glasses on the table before plopping in his seat. His eyes searched her face as a line appeared on his forehead, a frown pulling on his mouth.
“So, tell me more about you. It seems like we talk about work all the time and I feel like I know you, but then when I think about it, I realize that I really don’t know you.”
Trailing her pinky around the rim of her glass, Sidney pursed her lips. She wasn’t exactly keen on talking about her past, but then she’d never really had anyone to talk to about it.
“Well, not much to tell,” she began, wanting to keep the details to a minimum. “My parents died when I was a child. I was at a slumber party when the cops came to the house to tell me that my parents had been in an accident. They took me to the hospital but my father had died instantly. I got to see my mom but she was unconscious. I held her hand and told her I loved you but the nurse made me leave. Mom died early the next morning.”
“I’m so sorry, Sidney,” Rob said, taking her hand across the table. “Where did you go?”
“With my grandmother for about a year, but she had health problems. She became really ill and was hospitalized and died so I was taken to the Children’s House in Indianapolis,” Sidney frowned. “It was like a home for orphaned children. I was there for a few days until I was placed with a foster family.”
“You have no other family?”
She shook her head. “Well, I have an uncle but I hardly remember him. I only met him a few times when I was little. Last I heard, he was in prison somewhere.”
“Oh,” Rob said, giving her hand a squeeze.
Sidney smiled as her mother’s gentle face filled her mind, along with her father’s boisterous laugh. Her heart clenched as it usually did when she thought of the loving home she’d once had.
“The first foster family wasn’t too bad,” she continued. “But they had several children – more than they could handle. I was only there about a month before they moved me to the Wilson’s house.”
Again she smiled. “The Wilsons were an older couple. They had one adult son who lived in Colorado with his wife and three children. They were lonely, I think, so they took in a foster kid. Everything was good, too. They were nice. They sent me to a good school. I had regular chores to do but we did fun things on the weekends.”
“They sound great,” Rob said. “How long were you with them?”
“About three and a half years,” Sidney said. “Mrs. Wilson had a stroke and it became too much for Mr. Wilson to handle. So, I had to leave.”
“Oh,” Rob said.
Shrugging, Sidney lifted her glass, taking a long drink. “I was pretty much moved around until I was fifteen. By then, I was going to school year round, trying to finish so that I could set out on my own.”
“Even though you were a minor?” he asked.
“I was trying to get into music school,” Sidney explained. “Colberry School of Music accepts younger students if they qualify. I wasn’t musically gifted – I mean, I could play instruments and stuff, but I wasn’t considered gifted. So, I wanted to finish high school early because they would take me then.”
“I see,” he said. “So, you were sixteen, right, when you graduated?”
“Yeah,” Sidney said. “But I didn’t go to Colberry right away.”
“Why?”
She finished off her drink, avoiding his eyes. “My last foster home really sucked so once I finished high school, I left.”
“Ran
away?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Yeah,” she said. “The foster family didn’t care. They received a check every month for me so they didn’t report me as a runaway.”
“Didn’t a caseworker or anyone come to check on you?”
Shrugging, she toyed with her empty glass. Rob slid his glass to her. Grinning, she sipped his drink. “I’m sure that they did but the family probably lied to explain why I wasn’t there.”
Awkwardness hovered over them like a storm cloud, waiting to dump torrential rains. Sidney took another drink.
“Where did you go when you left?” he asked.
“I found places,” she said. “It was nice outside so I slept where I could, avoiding people and stuff.”
Horrified, he took the glass from her and drained it. “What did you eat? How did you take care of yourself?”
“I had a little money that I’d saved up,” she said. “I had to get a job when I was living with the last family. Plus, I worked odd jobs here and there when I could. I managed.”
Speechless, Rob took the empty glasses into the house, giving Sidney a chance to collect her thoughts. It wasn’t as though she was embarrassed by her past; it was just painful sometimes to think about it. She didn’t like to think about some of the places she’d lived – especially that last house…
She shuddered, wrapping her arms around her body just as Rob returned with the drinks.
“Here,” he said, sitting next to her. “Um, I’m thinking after all this drinking that it would probably be for the best if you crashed here tonight.”
“Thanks,” she said, staring at the red, frozen concoction in her glass. “But I can take a cab.”
“If you’re sure,” he said.
She nodded. After telling her story, she felt a little…weird, and felt the need to be alone with her thoughts.
“So, how did you find out about this internship?” he asked. “At Colberry?”
“Yes,” she said. “But you see, I’d landed a job at a music store in Indy. The owners were this cool, hippie sort of couple. I guess they figured out that I was homeless because they let me stay in the back room and constantly brought me food. Once I got into Colberry, I moved to a dorm. I received aid and scholarships for school since I had no family and I worked at the music store when I could.”
