Irregular Heartbeat

by Chris Zett

  Laughing, Diana stopped playing as well. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s about fun, not about perfection. That happens to everyone.”

  “But not to you.” Emily didn’t like to be placated.

  “More often than not when we’re improvising, I tend to lose myself in the rhythm and meander around the other players. Sooner or later I take a wrong turn and end up in a completely different place. Sometimes it works just fine, and sometimes I have to stop and start over. I think the journey can be as important as the destination.” Diana looked at her with an intense focus.

  Was she talking about more than drumming? Whatever they were really talking about, Emily liked the connection Diana’s gaze provided. Wait! That was not what she had come here for.

  “Thank you. For the lesson.” Emily stood, taking the drum with her. “Can I put that anywhere for you?”

  “You’re welcome.” Diana’s tone was as neutral as hers had been, but a smile still softened her expression. “Just give it to me.”

  No, no. Smiling wasn’t good. They needed to have a serious talk, and she shouldn’t have let herself play the drums with Diana. She handed the djembe over.

  Diana effortlessly lifted both drums and carried them to an open storage closet.

  Having learned her lesson, Emily kept her gaze away from Diana’s muscles that could distract her from her mission. When she heard the door lock snap close, she glanced at Diana. “I wanted to talk to you about something important.”

  “Sure. Now? Will it take long?” Diana pulled her phone out of her pocket, presumably to look at the time. “I’m sorry, but I’m meeting a friend for an early dinner. Should I call her and reschedule?”

  Emily wanted to be selfish and say yes, but this was about her boundaries and problems, and she shouldn’t keep Diana from meeting her friend. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted to clear the air. Maybe we’ll find time after work tomorrow.”

  “Why don’t you join us? The dinner won’t take long because she has to work tonight, and we can talk afterward.”

  Dinner with Diana and getting to know her friends veered the course of the evening definitely too close to personal waters for Emily’s taste. But the alternative of another sleepless night wasn’t appealing at all. “If you’re sure I won’t intrude, okay.”

  Despite the fun sign depicting a cat playing with a ginger root, the Vietnamese restaurant in the heart of the University District looked cheap and uninviting from the outside, and Emily would have passed it without a second look if she’d been alone. She followed Diana past tables filled with chatting college students to a staircase. The second floor was much nicer. Irregular clusters of white paper lamps cast a soft light on sturdy wooden tables decorated with ceramic bowls containing a single bloom. It seemed like the perfect place for couples on a date. Not that she had a lot of firsthand experience in the romance department.

  “Over here.” Diana steered Emily to a booth in the back of the room with her hand on her back.

  The touch of her fingers was light, perfectly innocent, but it took all of Emily’s willpower not to squirm in the heat it generated.

  A dark-skinned woman in a burgundy shirt with dark gray pinstripes and matching gray slacks stood to greet them. She seemed a few years older and vaguely familiar. Who was she? Did she work in the hospital too? Whoever she was, she looked gorgeous with a very short and stylish haircut.

  “Ooh, Melinda, you look great.” Diana hugged her friend.

  “Don’t call me that, Di!” A pointed look and a punch to Diana’s arm accompanied the last word.

  “Okay, okay, truce.” Holding up her hands in surrender, Diana took a step back and half turned toward Emily. “Emily, this is Mel. She played guitar in our band. And this is Emily, my colleague from the hospital.”

  This was Mel? Jen’s Mel? Another rock star? The sophisticated woman in front of her was the complete opposite of the guitar player in ripped jeans and a very tight, very revealing leather vest she’d last seen on stage.

  Mel’s eyebrows had shot up at the introduction, but she regained her composure faster than Emily and smiled. “Hi, good to meet you.”

  “Hi” was all Emily managed to croak out.

  Diana and Mel took their seats on opposite sides of the table, and Emily slipped onto the bench next to Diana, careful not to sit too close.

  A waitress greeted them, handed out menus, and asked for their drink order.

  The other two ordered Tiger Beer, but Emily was happy to find a selection of teas. Alcohol wouldn’t help to keep her wits about her.

  “So, seriously, Mel. Why did you dress up like that? You weren’t hoping this was a date, were you?” Diana batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

  “You wish.” Mel snorted. “No, I had a meeting with an investor. Things are looking up for my studio.”

  “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.” She squeezed Mel’s arm, then looked at Emily. “Mel is planning the transition from musician to producer.”

  “Congratulations. Do you want to stop playing too?”

  “Thanks. No, not yet. I’ve still got some years left in me. But we’re all getting older, and not everyone has such a nice alternative career in store like Diana.” With a grin, she looked at Diana. “How’s that working out for you, by the way?”

  “About as expected. Nothing new.” Diana tensed, and her tone implied the subject was closed. “So, have you found a studio space yet?”

  Mel accepted the change of topic without comment and discussed the pros and cons of several locations until the waitress brought the drinks.

  “What can I get you?”

  Diana and Mel immediately answered with the same number without even having picked up the menu.

  The waitress chuckled, tapped the order into her tablet, and looked at Emily with raised eyebrows.

  Emily fumbled for the menu and scanned the tiny script. “Can you recommend anything?”

  Again, both women replied with the same number, then laughed.

  “Sorry,” Diana said with an apologetic grin. “What we wanted to say was: pho with beef. It’s delicious.”

  “Thanks, I love pho.” Emily pushed the menu to the side. “For me too, please.”

  “Good choice.” The waitress collected the menus and left.

  Looking from one woman to the other, Emily raised her eyebrows. “So, do you come here often?”

  That prompted another bout of laughter.

  Emily replayed her last sentence in her head. Oops. “Oh, no! That’s not what I meant. I just… I mean…” Since the option of hiding under the table wasn’t viable, she joined them in their laughter.

  After they calmed down, Diana took a big gulp of her beer. She put the bottle back on the table and traced a bead of condensation with her finger. “We used to hang out here all the time. Downstairs is open until very late, and we refueled here after rehearsal or gigs.”

  “Our practice and storage space wasn’t far from here,” Mel added. “After I moved back to Seattle, I was so happy to find out that they’re still here after all those years.”

  “Yeah. And the menu stayed basically the same.”

  “Food quality too.”

  “Only the customers get younger every day.”

  “Yep. Makes you feel old.”

  “You’re old.”

  Emily cradled her bowl of tea in both hands and leaned back to enjoy the way the two friends bantered. Everything was so normal, as if they didn’t share a past that was so removed from Emily’s life experience that they might as well have lived on the other side of the Milky Way. Wafts of lemongrass and ginger drifted up and helped her to relax further as the talk returned to the plans for Mel’s studio.

  The food arrived in three giant bowls filled with a fragrant broth full of noodles, thin slices of beef, and an assortment of herbs and vegetables.
With apparent years of experience, Diana and Mel immediately doctored their portions with lemon and chili sauce.

  Emily tasted hers first and nearly moaned in delight as the complex taste flooded her senses. “Wow. Thanks for the recommendation. This might be the best pho I’ve ever had.”

  “Yup. Diana nearly drove me crazy in LA as she tried to recreate the recipe.” Mel rolled her eyes. “I mean, she’s a great cook, but no one comes close to the Ginger Cat.”

  “It’s good to be here again.” Diana smiled and took a large spoonful of the soup.

  “You can say that again.” Mel started to eat too and exchanged a look with Diana that clearly showed they were talking about more than the food.

  The moment was too private for Emily to ask about. She averted her gaze and concentrated on her meal. Pho had always been about warmth and comfort for her, something she could use now to fortify herself for the rest of the evening.

  After they’d all finished, Mel pressed her hand to her stomach. “I’m so full; I’ve no idea how I’ll be able to play.” She looked at her watch. “And I need to get going.”

  Diana grinned. “You’ll burn off those calories soon enough. Didn’t you mention a date after your gig?”

  “Aaand that’s my cue to leave you alone with your date.” Mel winked, stood, and pulled out her wallet.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll pay.” Diana waved her off.

  Why didn’t Diana correct Mel’s assumption? Emily nearly choked in her haste to swallow her tea. “Oh, no. No, no. We’re not on a date, not at all. We work together. Just as friends.”

  Mel paused in the midst of putting her wallet back and raised her hand in a conciliatory gesture. “I’m sorry if I have offended you.”

  “No, you didn’t offend me. It’s just…” If anything, she should be flattered Mel had assumed that someone like Diana would be interested in her. What could she possibly offer her? “I just didn’t want there to be any misunderstandings.” It was a lame justification for her outburst, but anything else hit too close to home.

  “Okay.” Mel accepted the explanation with a smile that removed the awkwardness from the situation. “But I still have to go. It was good meeting you.”

  She held out her hand and Emily shook it without hesitation. “You too.”

  Diana rose, but before Emily could stand to let her pass, Mel leaned over her to quickly hug Diana with one arm.

  “Talk to you soon.” Mel left, and Diana sat with a thud.

  Neither of them said anything for a minute. Emily reached for her tea, more to have something to occupy her hands than because she wanted to drink the last dregs. The ginger had stewed too long and turned everything bitter.

  “So.” Diana broke the silence first. “Do you want to talk here or somewhere else?” She leaned back and smiled.

  That smile wasn’t fair, much too friendly, too warm. Too sexy. Emily took a sip of the tea to wet her suddenly dry mouth. The bitterness helped clear her head.

  She studied her surroundings. Even though the room had filled up during their dinner, the other guests sat some distance away and the level of background noise was enough to ensure their privacy. But Diana was much too close. During the meal, her arm had brushed Emily’s once, leaving her with a tickling sensation. She wished she’d chosen the other side of the table in the first place, but changing now would be too weird. “Can we talk while walking?”

  “Sure.” Diana waved at the waitress, who was passing the table. “Can we have the check, please?”

  When she arrived with a black folder, Diana reached for it with a smile. “I’ve got this.” She placed a few bills in it and pushed it to the side of the table.

  “Wait. Let me pay my share.” Emily reached for her wallet.

  Diana stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You don’t need too. I’d love to invite you. I dragged you here, after all.”

  There it was again, that tingle that ran up and down her arm. She needed to get out of here.

  “I insist. This is not a date.” Emily stood, removing the distracting hand from her sleeve, and placed money on the table. It was time to establish some ground rules.

  The Ave was a popular destination and not conducive to serious talks. People were still strolling along the main street in the heart of the U District, chatting, and having a normal Saturday evening with friends and dates. Diana hadn’t done that for so long, she wasn’t sure what that even felt like. In college and med school she had spent most of her free time with her band, either practicing or playing any gig they could get.

  She let Emily set the pace and waited for her to bring up the reason for their outing, but Emily didn‘t seem to be in a hurry to talk about it. She stopped from time to time to look at the windows of a bookstore and some of the quirky little shops.

  All evening, Emily had been remarkably different than her usual confident self that Diana had come to know at work. The surfacing hints of vulnerability intrigued her. Maybe Emily would open up more during their talk, whatever it would be about. The only topic that came to mind was Emily’s distress and the hug that had led to the unexpected kiss. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.

  They passed a secondhand record store. The display was a wall of vinyl records and CDs, and Diana slowed automatically to check out the titles. The owner seemed to have eclectic tastes.

  “I need to come back here when they’re open.” Diana wanted to move on, but Emily stopped and looked from Diana to the window and back.

  They both studied the covers. Diana found it before Emily did. Their first live CD. She’d always had a love/hate relationship with the cover. The shot had been taken from behind the stage and showed them playing to an audience. The main focus was the colorful tattoo on Diana’s back. Would Emily recognize it?

  Emily stiffened for a second, then leaned closer to the glass to study the cover. Her expression reflected in the window showed an intense focus. “How long did it take for you to style your hair?”

  Diana laughed. Emily was practical, as usual. The photographer had insisted on a hairstyle that left the tattoo clearly visible and had persuaded her to spike it to a faux hawk for the performance. She had hated wearing it like that but had to admit it looked good in the picture.

  “Better ask how long it took to wash the stuff off after the concert.” Diana groaned and shook her head. “Never again.”

  They continued on their way home, passing the next shops without stopping.

  “Do you miss it?” Emily’s question was so low that Diana nearly failed to understand it.

  Diana’s first impulse was to answer with a joke about her hair, but Emily’s mood seemed too serious for that. “What do you mean? The concerts?”

  Emily nodded. “The concerts, the fame, the fans.”

  She had asked herself the same question more than once during the last few weeks, especially after playing again last month. The answer was easy. “Honestly? No, not really. The feeling of belonging to a band, of being part of creating something together is wonderful. I loved the rehearsals, the improv sessions, the dynamic between the band members. At least on good days.” She frowned as she remembered the fits her ex had thrown when she didn’t get her way. “But the concerts were hard work. In the beginning, I got a high from being on stage, playing for an increasing audience. Later it was routine. You had to play, whether you felt like it or not.” Diana looked into Emily’s eyes and hoped she understood. Most people couldn’t see past the supposed thrill of fame.

  “Like working in the ED. It’s not always about saving lives; sometimes you just have to wrap a twisted ankle.” Emily glanced down and resumed their walk. “What about the fame? The fans?”

  “That was complicated. Again, it started great. I mean, people are cheering for you; they adore you for something you love doing.” Diana played with the zipper of her jacket. How much should she tell her? She decided to be
completely open. If she wanted their relationship to lead anywhere, Emily shouldn’t be the only one to make herself vulnerable. “But it messes with your head. Everyone reacts differently.”

  Emily hummed. Her face was hidden by moving shadows as they reached an area with less illumination.

  Was she agreeing? Diana took it as a sign to continue. “Mel stayed down-to-earth. Nothing could faze her. Maybe because she’s a little bit older, or just because she’s just that cool. Grounded. Katie and I, we didn’t do so well. Our relationship didn’t survive the first year. She and I lived in our separate fantasy worlds of inflated self-importance. She made a few unhealthy choices, and I stuck my head in the sand. The band nearly split over this, but we got our act together. She cleaned up, we turned our relationship into a friendship, and everything was fine again.” She snorted. “Or so we thought.” The last few years blurred in her memory: concert tours, studio work, and months in between on the farm. “When we were at home, I craved solitude and concentrated on songwriting. I only emerged from my rooms to rehearse, run, or cook. Or to talk to Mel. She kept me sane.”

  “I like Mel, but it was weird meeting her, knowing she’ll go out with Jen later. And that neither Mel nor I could tell Jen about it without revealing how we know each other.” Emily’s voice held a tinge of amusement. “Our best friends are going out, but we can’t really talk to them. That’s not complicated. At all.”

  Diana stopped walking. “I’m sorry about the mess and that keeping my secret prevents you from really talking to your best friend. I hate secrets. Hell, I wasn’t even in the closet. I think I came out to my parents five minutes after I realized why the idea of Alissa having a date with that guy from the music store hurt so much.”

  Emily turned to Diana and squeezed her arm. “It’s okay. I don’t like secrets either, but I get it.”

  The touch suffused her with a warmth that spread from her fingertips all the way to her heart. After the kiss two days ago and their impromptu percussion session and dinner tonight, Diana’s attraction to Emily had grown in leaps, but her mind had a difficult time keeping up. Both Emily’s signals and her own reactions confused her. She’d like to hold Emily’s hand while walking and get to know her better. Sometimes she thought Emily wanted the same, but then she retreated again.