by Rebekah Lyn
“Of course I wouldn’t normally, but these aren’t exactly normal circumstances.” Lizzie paused, “Somehow we clicked when we met, almost like we knew each other before.”
“Just be careful. He seems nice enough, but you never know these days.”
“Yes, Mom.” Lizzie rolled her eyes before slinging an arm around Emma’s shoulder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Michelle took a last look in the mirror, her eyes lingering on the small scar above her right eye. A little make up concealed it from the world, but she always knew it was there. She often caught herself rubbing it when she was nervous. She ran a finger over it now before flipping the light off. In the bedroom, she sat down to pull on a pair of chunky black boots, tucked her shirt into black jeans, and slung her guitar case over her shoulder.
The Loaded Hog was sparsely populated when Michelle arrived. She pulled the guitar from its case and rested it on a stand, checking her watch surprised none of her bandmates were there yet. A clatter of cymbals crashing onto the concrete floor alerted her of Matt’s arrival.
“Sorry I’m late,” Matt greeted her with his lopsided grin. His hair was disheveled as if he’d just popped out of bed. “I was taking a nap and my alarm didn’t go off.” He looked around the dim bar. “Where are Tina and Jonesy?”
“Don’t know, seems everyone is late tonight.” Michelle moved to help Matt unload the drums. “Am I going to have to buy you a better case for your birthday? You can’t keep abusing these drums.”
“I know, they’re just so expensive. Business is slow and I’m barely getting by as it is.”
“I thought everyone was crazy about web design,” Michelle said.
“Yeah, that’s the problem. Seems like a dozen new design companies spring up each week; the client base is getting spread thin. I may have to get a real job.” A look of mock horror crossed his face making Michelle laugh.
“Perish the thought. Having a grown up job is no fun at all. Maybe you should redesign our website so we can get some better gigs.”
“Not a bad idea, now that I have free time.” Matt turned the bass drum on its side and screwed on the cymbals. “I’ll work on it this week. We do start at eight don’t we?”
“Unfortunately, I don’t know why we can’t get the later shows when people are actually in the clubs. We’re better than those spazzes in Black Ink.”
“Hey guys, sorry we’re late. Traffic was a nightmare.” Tina and Jonesy poured into the club. Jonesy was a tall, lanky boy, shaved head glistening with fresh wax, green eyes intent on pulling his guitar from its case. Tina, a petite pixie of a girl with choppy black hair and dark brown eyes had her keyboard set up in minutes and bounded to the bar for a bottle of water.
At eight o’clock Michelle turned on her microphone, recognizing Marty and Elliot, the band’s only real fans, sitting at a table right in front of the stage. A handful of other people were scattered around the room.
“Good evening, everyone. We’re Tangled Web and we’re happy to be here tonight.” Michelle smiled as Marty and Elliot hooted and clapped loudly, drawing a few amused glances from the other patrons. The band launched into a set of upbeat songs, as more people drifted in off Orange Avenue.
Michelle watched the crowd throughout their performance, noticing a dozen people take seats to watch them, while the remaining patrons ignored them as background noise. When they wrapped, Marty and Elliot gave a standing ovation.
“Thanks so much, stick around for Black Ink.” Tina waited as a rowdy bunch of guys in the back cheered for the upcoming band. Before she could speak again, the members of Black Ink were swarming the stage, moving equipment. Tina slumped and went about stowing her own gear.
“Don’t let it get to you,” Michelle encouraged as the women walked toward the bar.
“I know. I just wish we could get people to listen to us.”
“We will, but it takes time.”
“Yeah,” Tina replied half-heartedly.
“Good show tonight. I noticed a few more people watching than usual,” the bartender offered as he handed them two bottles of water.
“Thanks, Jimmy.” Michelle smiled. She felt a body press against her and turned around. The man behind her stumbled and turned as well.
“So sorry,” the man said, his eyes locking on hers. “Michelle, right?”
“Yes,” Michelle recognized the face but couldn’t place it.
“Jeffrey, we met at Will’s Pub a couple weeks ago.”
“Oh yeah. How are you?”
“I’m good. You here to see Black Ink?”
“No, my band just finished playing.”
“That was you? I heard the last song as I was coming in, you guys are good.”
“Really?” Recognizing more people had been listening to them had lifted her spirits, but this compliment made her skin tingle.
“Definitely. When are you playing again?”
“We’re here every Saturday, eight o’clock, before the crowds come in.” Michelle kept her tone light, trying to joke about their less than desirable performance time.
“I will have to come out early next week then.” Jeffrey paused to take a drink. “I’ve been meaning to call you, things have just been crazy.”
Michelle waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Maybe we can get together for lunch sometime this week. I’d like to hear more about your band.”
Michelle pulled her Blackberry from her pocket and opened her calendar. “Wednesday at twelve thirty looks good for me.”
“That’ll work.” Jeffrey added the appointment to his own cell phone. “In the meantime, can I buy you a drink?”
Michelle smiled, dimples rising in her cheeks. “Sure, let me put this in my car.” She motioned to the guitar case at her feet. “Be right back.”
Outside Michelle found Tina loading her equipment. “Who’s the guy?” Tina asked.
“I met him at a concert.” While Michelle and Tina were bandmates, they had never hit it off as friends. She was leery to share personal information with her.
“He’s cute.” Tina slammed her trunk closed and turned to face Michelle. “You going out with him?”
“We just met.” With her guitar stowed, Michelle reset the car alarm and started back to the bar. Tina fell in step beside her.
“Mind if I tag along?”
Michelle shrugged. “It’s a free country. You can go wherever you want.” She pulled the back door open and was assaulted by discordant guitar riffs. A crowd had gathered, filling the small club. Michelle pushed her way through the mass of bodies back to the bar where she’d left Jeffrey. He wasn’t there. She slouched against the bar searching the room, but bodies jumped up and down blocking her view. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to Jimmy, the bartender.
“You looking for the guy you were talking to?” he asked and Michelle nodded. “He got a phone call and stepped out front.”
“Thanks.” Michelle smiled and moved toward the door. Outside she realized Tina had been lost in the crowd so she slipped out of the doorway, hoping Tina wouldn’t see her. Jeffrey stood twenty feet away by a thin tree talking on the phone. She waited until he looked up and waved at her.
“I was supposed to meet a friend and he was calling to say he can’t make it.” Jeffrey returned the phone to his pocket. “You want to go someplace else? It’s getting crowded in there.”
“Sure.” They set off down Orange Avenue glancing in the clubs as they passed.
“You want to go to Eye Spy and shoot some pool?” Michelle asked after several minutes of silence.
“I’m not very good, but we can give it a try.” The couple crossed the street and backtracked, cutting through Bar BQ Bar. At the courtyard between the two clubs, another band played a medley of John Mellencamp songs. The small rooms of Eye Spy were packed; hidden cameras feeding images from each room to televisions above the main bar. Michelle followed Jeffrey through the British phone booth that served as a secret door into th
e poolroom.
“I’m surprised a table is free,” Michelle said, picking up a cue and chalking it. Jeffrey racked the balls and took up a cue himself.
“You want to break them?” Jeffrey asked.
“Afraid you can’t split them up?” Michelle teased.
“You got me.”
Michelle bent over the table lining up her shot. The balls split with a loud crack, spinning around the green felt, three of them fell into the corner pockets. Jeffrey let out a long whistle of appreciation.
“Guess I’m stripes,” he said watching Michelle take her next shot. Ten minutes later, she finally missed and Jeffrey stepped up for his first turn.
“You didn’t mention you were a hustler.” He eyed the table and the options available to him. A solid blocked each of the stripes. He shot, the ten ball, pushing the five into a pocket.
“Thanks,” Michelle smiled. “That leaves me just two more.”
“Give a guy a break.”
“Sorry.” She grinned again as she sank the remaining balls. “In high school I used to hang out with my best friend at the local marina clubhouse. When we weren’t out on her family’s boat, we played pool. Want to try again?”
“Easy, a guy’s ego can only take so much defeat. Why don’t we get a drink?”
“Chicken.” Michelle jabbed him with her finger. They emerged in the courtyard area and found the band taking a break. Clusters of young people loitered, waiting for the next set. Jeffrey approached the bar and waited for Michelle to order. Drinks in hand they found a seat under strings of Christmas lights and palm trees.
“So how long have you worked for Charles Schwab?” Jeffrey asked.
“Eight years. It’s a good gig, if you like numbers. You never said what you do.”
“I’m in construction.”
“Is your family here?” Michelle noticed Jeffrey shift uncomfortably.
“They are, but I don’t see them much. Are you from the area?”
“We moved here from Boston when I was twelve. It was rough at first, but I can say I am happy we moved. Why don’t you see your family?” Again, Jeffrey squirmed.
“Long story. You didn’t mention you were in a band the other night.” Jeffrey changed the subject. “How long have you guys been together?”
“About five months. Matt, the drummer, and I were in a band together for three years. When it broke up we kind of drifted around for a while. He knew Jonesy, the bass player, and Jonesy brought Tina along. She and I don’t talk much. It’s not the ideal situation, but at least I get to play.”
“Have you thought about getting together people you like?”
“I’ve tried a few times. Every time I find a few people I think it would be fun to work with, they are already part of a group. Timing has never been my strong suit.” Michelle laughed. “I wasn’t even born when I was supposed to be.”
“Yeah, I guess timing isn’t my thing either,” Jeffrey said reflectively. Michelle remained quiet hoping he would share more. Movement across the patio caught her eye and she realized the band was returning. She recognized one of the guys and shifted in her seat.
“You mind if we get out of here?” She nodded toward the band. “My ex, and I’m not in the mood to catch up.”
“Of course.” Jeffrey stood and moved to block the sight of Michelle from the small stage area. She appreciated the protective gesture and reached for his hand as they returned to the street. She felt Jeffrey tense before twining his fingers with hers.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The service was already under way when Lizzie entered the church, the orchestra playing the opening strains of “How Great Thou Art”. Her spine stiffened at the sound, the memory of her parents’ funeral washing over her. She walked past pews, barely recognizing faces, her thoughts occupied with the details of that day; two mahogany coffins at the front of the church, the overpowering sweet fragrance of hundreds of blooms, sobs that wracked her body. By the time they’d reached the gravesite, she had no more tears, she felt cold inside, and went through the motions of accepting condolences.
Lizzie felt a hand on her elbow and looked around her. She realized she had passed Emma and stopped in the middle of the church. Emma pulled her into a hug before leading her back to their seat. Pastor Donovan welcomed the congregation and shared some announcements before starting the message. Lizzie’s mind drifted, only half listening to the sermon. She thought about her first lunch with Emma and Ron.
They had shared more of their experiences in Africa; their stories of so many blessings touched Lizzie’s heart. In spite of the reservations she held about her own relationship with God, these stories made her yearn for the relationship she had known before her parents’ death.
“What led you to our church?” Emma had asked.
“I watched the sermons on television for a few weeks before I made my first visit. I’ve been out of church for a few years.” Lizzie hadn’t been able to look at Emma’s face as she spoke; her heart constricted with dark memories.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Emma’s voice was so gentle, Lizzie remembered her defenses crumbling. Tears fell and Emma pulled her into a warm embrace, quietly stroking her head until the cries subsided. As Lizzie shared the story of her parents’ death and the depression she had fallen into, a sense of release settled on her.
“Did you know God uses pain and suffering and even death to unfasten us from this earth?” Pastor Donovan’s voice penetrated Lizzie’s mind and snapped her back to attention. “Colossians three, verses one and two shows us that we are supposed to have an ongoing pursuit of the things God has for us. We are not supposed to be wasting time focused on the things of this earth that will pass away. Jesus came to free us from a fear of death. He doesn’t want us living our life here scared of what is out there. That is why Jesus spoke often of heaven, so we can look forward to spending an eternity with him.”
The pastor went on to tell how heaven is the ultimate achievement of God’s original plan for us, a plan to create a beautiful place free of sin where He could fellowship with us.
“When man sinned he messed up God’s original plan, but God has not given up and he is restoring it through Christ Jesus until we dwell with him in heaven.”
The excitement in Pastor Donovan’s voice invigorated Lizzie. While she had come to grips with her parents’ death, this sermon reminded her she would see her family again and this time without them was only a blink of an eye in comparison to eternity.
The service wrapped up and the congregation filtered out of the sanctuary.
“I’m going to have to skip lunch today,” Lizzie said as they exited.
“Going to work on the house?” Ron asked.
Lizzie smiled. “I thought I might try to meet some of the neighbors.”
“Do you want us to come help with anything?”
“Thanks, but there isn’t much more I can do until the water and power are on.”
“Call us if anything changes.”
“I will.” Lizzie hugged her friends and ducked into her car.
Pulling into the cleared driveway, Lizzie noticed the white haired lady across the street sitting on her front porch.
“Good afternoon,” Lizzie called as she approached the house.
“Hello,” the woman replied in a soft voice.
“I’m Lizzie and I’ll be moving in across the street soon.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Mae. I’m happy to see someone is finally cleaning up that mess. Have a seat.”
Lizzie settled herself into an empty rocking chair and surveyed the street around her. “How long have you lived here?”
“Oh, it must be more than twenty years now. A lot has changed.”
“Do you happen to remember when my place was last lived in?”
Mae rubbed her forehead. “Mary and William were the last folks to live there. William died about six years ago and Mary moved out shortly after. I think she moved into one of those retirement communities. Their kids
live up north somewhere. I don’t think they ever came to visit.”
“That’s a shame. I don’t understand families that don’t stay close. Do you have any children?”
Mae smiled, her clear blue eyes lighting up. “I have two boys, Avery and Liam. They are good boys. I couldn’t keep this place up without them. They’re coming over for dinner later, perhaps you can meet them. Liam has two children of his own. Avery just got married last year. Are you married?”
Lizzie laughed. “No, ma’am, still looking for the right guy.”
“Are you going to be working on the house all by yourself then?” Mae asked in surprise.
“Not completely. I have some friends, who have offered to help. I may need to hire help for some things, but I hope to do most of it myself. My biggest concern is the roof.”
Mae nodded. “It’s been a long time since it was replaced.”
“Great.” Lizzie’s spirits deflated. She had a reasonable savings, but not enough for a new roof. A truck pulled up in front of the house and Lizzie stood. “What timing, there’s the guy coming to check out the roof. It was nice meeting you.”
“You too, stop by anytime.” Mae called out as Lizzie jogged across the street.
“Hey,” Lizzie said.
“Good afternoon.” Jeffrey hefted a ladder from the truck onto his shoulder and moved toward the house. “Shouldn’t take long to check things out. Did you learn anything from the neighbors?”
“Nothing encouraging.”
“Don’t get too worried yet,” Jeffrey said.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“No, I’m fine.” Jeffrey made sure the ladder was steady and climbed onto the dark shingles. Lizzie plopped down on the porch steps anxious for Jeffrey’s report. She heard him tramping around and prayed he wouldn’t fall through.
“Do you have a broom?” he called down.
“Yeah, just a sec.” Lizzie jumped up and grabbed the broom leaning against the front door. She raced back to the ladder and found Jeffrey lying on his stomach reaching down for it.
“There is a lot of debris built up in the crevasses,” Jeffrey said. Lizzie stepped back just as a pile of leaves came tumbling down. “Once it is cleaned off I can get a better look at the shingles.”
