to the sudden ray of sunshine he was offering. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”
“Any chance you’re free tonight? Or maybe lunch? We could grab fast food for all I care.”
“Um.” It was eleven in the morning. I was in last night’s clothes and half an hour from home. “How about tonight? I don’t know if I could get my act together in time for lunch.”
“Yes, that’s great. I’ll text you details?”
“Yeah. And thanks, you know, for not writing me off as a total flake.” You wonderful, wonderful man.
“I have to respect someone who drops everything to go help a friend.”
My heart squeezed at those words, but not in a good way. It should have made me warm and fuzzy, him praising me like that. Instead I just felt trapped, and angry, and hurt.
“So, tonight then?” I asked, trying to shake Sean out of my thoughts.
“Yes. Tonight,” he affirmed. “See you then.”
The Uber pulled up in front of my building and I paid him with the card that Randy had given me more than a year ago. I wouldn’t let them hire me officially. I wouldn’t let Sean pay for my apartment or anything like that. But paying someone to drive me into NYC and back each time Sean hit the sauce too hard was out of my budget. I let Sean pay for that.
When I walked into my place, I should have gotten straight into the shower, but the past twenty-four hours required something stronger than water to purge my demons. I slipped my shoes off, letting them clatter to the floor as I crossed to my piano. It was an old upright‚ scratched and dented and well loved by me. It was one of the first pieces of furniture I’d bought when I moved into this apartment. Most people would think a couch would take precedence, but a piano had always been at the top of my list.
I slid onto the bench and leaned my head from side to side, trying to loosen my neck a little before resting my fingers on the keys.
Then I closed my eyes and let my fingers do their thing. I started off with a Beethoven piece, which morphed into my own rendition and then a different melody before going into something more upbeat, reminiscent of the 1950’s, and then back to a classical piece that I knew by heart. Music and I—we had chemistry.
The reason I had pushed Sean so hard was because I understood good music. I may not have had the raw vocal talent that Sean had, but music sang through my blood and strummed through my bones. Singing had brought us together. We’d been seated next to each other on the first day of choir. It was my freshman year of high school and I’d been positioned on the edge of the altos, butting up next to the tenors, and my awkward first-day-of-high-school inner turmoil was only added to when I ended up next to a sophomore guy. There were no desks to act as natural buffers on those choir risers, so I felt more exposed. But by the end of that first day, I was totally at ease. Sean bubbled over with effervescent joy. I loved singing, but Sean breathed it.
The next three years I helped him write songs. We built a sound booth so he could record his first songs. I uploaded them to YouTube myself. We worked together to find other musicians so he could perform live. I schlepped sound equipment to gigs. I told him when it was time to find a new bass player.
My musical know-how told me he was good enough. I pushed him when he didn’t want to do the work or make the effort. He wouldn’t be where he was now if not for me.
I’d never been less proud of anything in my life.
♪♫♪
Jonas and I confirmed plans that afternoon and I had the annoying job of finding something to wear. I couldn’t wear the same dress again— the dress that had been chosen specifically for this first getting-to-know-you date—but I didn’t have time to shop for something else, so I dug through my closet and made it work. Jonas had chosen a more casual restaurant, so I decided to go with skinny jeans and a flowy top. I curled my light auburn hair into soft waves and hoped they would hold.
Tara had texted me, asking how it went last night, and it was a relief to tell her that we