by Leigh Landry
She’d bought it for him during one of their day trips to New Orleans. Somehow she’d bought it from a shop without him noticing, then she’d left it folded for him on his pillow back home. He’d never wear another shirt besides that one if he could get away with it.
Not that he was wearing it intentionally for her tonight. He just loved the shirt. Miles was the man, after all. But whatever helped his cause, right? He’d need all the help he could get for his mission to get Kelsey back.
When he returned to the living room, Eric rubbed his hands together wondering what to tackle next. First task: wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans.
He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he’d never hung out with Kelsey alone before. Sure, they’d never written music together. Not without Camille there, too. But still. He didn’t have anything to be nervous about. This was Kelsey.
Exactly why he had everything to be nervous about.
He started taking containers out of the bag and lining them up on the table. He’d texted Kelsey after he packed up at the school to see if she wanted her usual order: Kung Pao shrimp with a spring roll. But she just wanted hot and sour soup. Weird. For her, at least. Not that they’d been eating together much the last few months. Maybe her tastes had changed. Or maybe it was like she’d said and she just wasn’t very hungry. Either way, he’d ordered some spring rolls for her anyway. Just in case she was hungry by the time she got there.
As soon as he grabbed a handful of forks and spoons from the kitchen and placed them on the table, a knock at the front door startled him. Not just any knock. Kelsey’s quick, rhythmic knock.
The utensils went scattering across the table and onto the wood floor with a startling clatter. Eric looked at the mess for a second, then wiped his sweaty palms on his pants again and lowered the speaker volume before heading to the door.
When he opened it, Kelsey was standing there in shredded jeans and her vintage Stevie Nicks tee. Her partial tattoo sleeve peeked out from the edge of the fabric, and below that her collection of leather and metal bracelets covered her wrists and forearms. She wasn’t short, but he still had to look down at her, and their height difference meant he could always smell her deliciously crisp, green apple scented shampoo.
Eric took one look at her soft, round face with those blue-gray eyes and that shy, sweet smile of hers, and he forgot why he was supposed to be nervous at all.
Chapter Three
Kelsey stood frozen in the doorway. Eric was wearing a burgundy flat cap and that threadbare Miles Davis T-shirt she’d run her fingers over so many times, and her gaze honed in on the outline of his chest and shoulder muscles beneath the fabric. When she lifted her eyes, she found him staring back at her, his face lit up like he’d been waiting for her forever.
If only.
“Hey, come in.” He moved aside so she could enter the cozy old house she’d always loved. It had history and life to it. The floors and walls creaked with the spring and summer storms, as if they had stories of their own to tell.
She walked inside to the dimly lit living room. Strings of white lights hung from the ceiling, and The Meters, Eric’s favorite band, filled the room with soft, soothing funk. Someone else might think he was trying to set a mood. But Kelsey knew better. None of this was for her. This was simply pure Eric. Kelsey had spent so many nights in this house over the past couple years listening to those creaky walls, sleeping in that room down the hall…
A chill ran up her spine, and she shook those memories from her brain. No sense living in the past. The present was messy enough.
“Can I get you something to drink? I have cherry Coke in the fridge.”
He hated the stuff, but he always kept some cans around because it was her favorite. It was the one sweet treat she craved, and the only thing that got her through some of their late night rehearsals. As careless as Eric had been with her, he could also be the most thoughtful person. Especially with little details like that.
It was the big stuff that flew by him.
She held up the half-finished bottle of water in her hand. “Still working on this. Thanks.”
“I got your soup.” He fidgeted with containers on the table. “And some spring rolls. Just in case you were hungrier by the time you got here. Or for later. Or whatever.” His words were rushed, like he was nervous. For what, she had no idea. Maybe about being on their own for this song.
She sat at the little table while he poured soup into a gigantic brick-red coffee mug and handed it to her with a spoon.
“Thanks. Soup’s good for now.” Truthfully, she couldn’t stomach even the thought of eating anything fried right now, but there was no way to tell him that without getting into the why of it.
A legal pad and a pen sat on the table beside the food. Ever the Boy Scout. Always prepared. As spontaneous and impulsive as he could be sometimes, he could be equally thoughtful and responsible. One of the many surprises she’d grown to love about him.
She squirmed in her seat and looked down to stir her soup. Focus, Kel. “So you have any ideas for direction on this? Did Robin mention to you if she wants something slow or up-tempo or what?” She’d been in such a hurry to escape the night before that she forgot to ask.
“I texted her today.” He sat beside her, and she stared at the strong column of his neck and the meticulously trimmed facial hair outlining his jaw. “Whatever we want to do. She just wants new stuff. I’m sure she’d like to build up to a new album at some point, but she doesn’t have any specific ideas yet.”
An album. Kelsey’s mind raced with possibilities and the tempting carrot of writing more with the band, even if she was too pregnant to gig with them for a while.
But none of that gave any direction for the task in front of them. Kelsey usually found it easier to write within some defined parameters, but she’d have to figure this out without any. They would have to figure this out…together.
She glanced at the upright piano against the living room wall. The one he’d inherited from his grandfather, who’d bought it secondhand from his church decades ago. Kelsey and Eric used to sit side by side at that piano, her hip pressed against his on that bench, while his long fingers traveled across the keys with ease and skill.
Crap. What had she gotten herself into?
She took another sip of soup to settle her stomach and warm her nerves. “Did you have any thoughts?”
Eric finished the huge chunk of eggroll he’d bitten off and swallowed. After he chased it with water, he said, “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe something slow? Since we’ll have a huge audience and usually play a lot of upbeat stuff. Plus it might be easier to pick up. Especially since Lauren’s still getting her feet under her.”
“Good point.” Kelsey’s stomach tightened. He made a lot of sense. Fewer notes. Fewer lyrics. Faster to learn.
But a slower tune meant more emotional lyrics. More depth. More tears. While she was already hormonal and hurting and afraid and unsure of the world around her. Kelsey would have to lay out her soul for the world in those lyrics. All while working side by side with Eric, who had no idea what he was even asking of her.
“I mean, if you’re up for that,” he said. “They’re gonna be your words. I’m just here to make them sound good.” His mouth curved into a smile that lit up the whole room. That smile made her feel like she could do anything as long as he was there beside her and had her back.
But he didn’t. Not when it counted.
“I’ll do whatever you want. Your call,” he added.
Or maybe he did?
“That makes sense,” she said. “Yeah, let’s do a slow tune. Maybe a new waltz?”
“Great.” Eric fixed his dark eyes on her and raised his glass for a toast. She raised hers as well, then he said, “To making great music together.”
Kelsey felt lightheaded and began to wobble. She nearly fell out of her chair before Eric caught her elbow with his strong, steady grip. The concerned look on his face required some s
ort of explanation, although she didn’t really have a good one prepared.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Not enough caffeine today, I guess.” She would have to get better at excuses if her blood pressure and her heart were going to randomly conspire against her like that.
Eric still held her elbow and stared at her with lingering concern. She realized her arm was tingling under the touch of his calloused fingers, roughened from years of plucking bass strings, and she wondered if maybe it was only her heart betraying her and not her blood pressure after all.
Kelsey steadied herself and raised her glass. “To music.”
* * * * *
“I think I’ve got enough here to get a good start.” He tapped the staff paper in front of him with the back of his green mechanical pencil. He’d been playing around with chords and different snippets of melodies for Kelsey to weigh in on, and they’d already nailed down what they wanted for the chorus. It was a very loose session. Relaxed. Stress-free. Exactly what he’d hoped for.
But now it was time to wrap it up. Kelsey had been glancing at the clock for the past ten minutes. Probably had to work in the morning. It had been so nice to feel like things were normal between them again. Even for a little while. He didn’t know what was going on with her the last few weeks, but he hoped she’d feel safe enough to let him know at some point what was bothering her.
He hoped he could earn at least that.
“Me too.” Kelsey tore off the top sheet of the legal pad. She’d been jotting down notes while he tinkered on the piano. Emotional beats to hit. Questions, title ideas, and potential hooks. Chord progressions. Her own shorthand language of rhythmic notation that was unlike anything he’d ever seen from anyone else, drummers included. Her notes were uniquely Kelsey. He could sit there and marvel at them all day.
“So when do you want to meet again?” He wanted to ask her to come over again tomorrow, but he didn’t want to scare her off. Plus, he knew she needed time to work on the lyrics on her own for a while. “Next Friday? Or next Saturday after that gig?”
“Don’t you have plans or something?” She hesitated. “With Bria?”
Eric’s stomach dropped. He’d been trying to find a way to bring this up all night, and now that the topic had fallen into his lap, he didn’t know what to say.
Correction: he knew exactly what to say. He was just scared to say it. All of it.
“We broke up.”
“Oh.” Kelsey looked shocked. Eric wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like he had a string of steady, long-term relationships under his belt besides Kelsey and Bria. There had been lots of women, lots of men too, but nothing more than a hookup or brief fling. He’d only been trying to numb the pain and loneliness he felt. But it never worked for long.
“Sorry, I thought you two had history or…I don’t know. Sorry.”
History. Sure, he and Bria had history. But it had been ancient history. It had been nice to reminisce about high school and old friends and good times with her. She was fun. They got along. But none of that was enough to sustain an actual relationship. Certainly not enough to surpass the kind of history he had with Kelsey. His feelings for Bria—or anyone else, for that matter—could never come close to what he felt for Kelsey.
“It’s fine. I’m not sad. It had to end.”
“I thought you two were getting along? I mean, last I heard.”
“We were. But it was never going to work.”
“Why not?” She tilted her head in curiosity, then shook it and said, “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”
Eric turned and straddled the piano bench so he could face her sitting in the chair next to him. “Actually, it’s exactly your business.” He took her strong hands in his, ignoring the look of panic she flashed at his touch. It pained him, but he knew he deserved it.
Sure, she’d shut down and shut him out after the miscarriage. But she’d been hurting, and he’d known that. He never should have walked away and left her to deal with that pain on her own. He’d hurt her by doing that, and he deserved the reminder now.
But he had to let her know how he felt.
He held her hands until her shoulders relaxed and she looked him in the eye, her steel blue gaze guarded but curious. “It was never going to work, because she wasn’t you. No one else will ever be you. The last few months have only made it clear how much I want you in my life again, Kel.”
Her mouth hung open, caught somewhere between shock and needing desperately to tell him something. He waited, but she only closed her mouth and stared at him.
So he continued.
“I love our friendship. I don’t want to ruin that,” he said. “But I don’t want to miss a chance to be with you. I know I don’t deserve it. Not now, at least, and maybe I don’t deserve it ever again. I know I let you down. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me the most. But I want to earn another chance to show you what you mean to me. To earn your trust and love again.”
Her face was pale, paler than normal, and her skin had that tint of green again. But she bit her glossy peach lip and took a deep breath, and the color slowly came back to her face. Her cheeks tinted pink and her eyes glittered to life again. He saw all of his own fears reflected in her eyes. Fear that they couldn’t do this. Fear that they would hurt each other all over again. Fear that they would ruin everything this time in some irreparable explosion.
But he also saw hope. The same hope that was overwhelming his senses and had him inching toward her. He put his hand on the side of her face and leaned forward to meet her lips with his own. Softly. The familiar sweetness of her mouth warmed his entire body and soul as she relaxed against him and returned his kiss.
He held her soft face in both hands and kissed her harder, more urgently, desperate to recapture all of those weeks without her. Even all of the weeks and months before the last time they were together. Because this was what he wanted. Kelsey. Only Kelsey. Every day. For the rest of his days.
She pulled back suddenly though, removing his hands from her face and holding them in her own. Her eyes were a swirling swamp of confusion now. Her face flushed, her lips still plump with desire. He wished he could read her thoughts. No matter how much he feared them.
“I should go,” was all she said.
She released his hands and stood, placing her pencil and the legal pad on the piano and folding her sheet of notes as she hurried for the door.
“Kelsey, wait.” His brain scrambled for the right words, the magical words that would make her stay. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make—”
“No, it’s fine,” she stammered, barely turning to look back at him in her rush to escape. “I just…I should go.”
And with that, she was gone. Like smoke through his fingers. He looked at his palms. He’d held her in them moments ago, and she’d slipped away. She’d run away. He couldn’t blame her. She didn’t owe him anything, and he’d known going in that this was a lost cause. He’d never win her back.
But for one fleeting moment, he’d held her. And he’d held hope.
Chapter Four
Kelsey scribbled in her spiral notebook. Scratched out her scribbles. Scribbled some more. Scratched those notes out as well.
She grimaced at the page. It was crap. Along with all the rest of the crap she’d written down that day. Even on her worst writing days—lyrics, poems, stories, anything—the words were better than this. It was like she was growing a brain-sucking alien in her belly instead of a baby.
Maybe.
Nothing in this life was guaranteed. Not your brain spitting out a song. Not parents or a family. Not a baby. Not the man you love sticking around.
I want to show you what you mean to me. To earn your trust and love again.
Did he really mean that? She didn’t think for one second that he was lying to her, but was he lying to himself?
Her brain was a mess. The more she tried not to think about everything Eric said two nights ago, the more her brain obsessed about it.
She sighed heavily, then ripped the page out of the notebook, crumpled it, and tossed it on the coffee table. Her turtle, safe beneath the removable, Plexiglas tabletop, stretched his neck up toward the ball of paper beside three other crumpled pages of discarded crap. After a few twists and turns of his head, he went back to work, patrolling the mesh wire walls of his giant coffee table terrarium.
Kelsey had no other choice. She’d have to back out of this whole songwriting thing. Robin would understand. Kelsey wouldn’t even have to tell her about the pregnancy, just that it wasn’t working out. Or maybe she could tell her that Camille had been the genius in all their partnerships. It wouldn’t be a lie.
A steady knock on her apartment door momentarily saved her from her spiraling mediocrity mope. Kelsey glanced at her phone for a missed message, since she wasn’t expecting anyone. She was almost never expecting anyone. Especially not on a Sunday afternoon.
When she looked through the peephole, she shook her head and opened the door. Natalie was flashing a giant smile.
“No Cadence?” Kelsey asked.
“Dropped her off at her dad’s on the way. You’re stuck with just me tonight.” Natalie took her arms from behind her back and held them up along with her offering—box of saltines, a can of loose herbal tea, and a package of sour candy straws. “Up for a movie?”
“Nope. But I’ve got a better idea.” Kelsey nodded inside. “I was just about to kill stuff.”
Kelsey and Natalie might have come from very different backgrounds and dealt with life in very different ways, but they did have one reliable shared self-care activity: video games.
“Sweet!” Natalie made a beeline for the living room, but paused before sitting on the couch. “That thing always creeps me out.”
