“Baby shower? Sounds like fun.” He smirked.
I saw him looking around the apartment. “Claire, where are you going to sleep?”
“I have blankets I’ll set on the floor. I’ll be fine.”
He looked at me with a sexy look, but I didn’t think he realized it. “Let me help you put some of this stuff away,” he said as he saw me rummaging through bags. “First, we need some music.” He pulled out his iPhone from his pocket and, suddenly, Coldplay started playing. Bright lights flashed in my mind, blinding me as I grabbed the sides of my head and fell to the ground on my knees. Sam came rushing over as he dropped down beside me and pulled me into his arms. I kept my eyes tightly closed as images of a car and that same song played over the radio. I was in the passenger’s seat, but I couldn’t see who was driving. The music played as we both sang to it. Sam rocked me back and forth and I wanted to die right there in his arms.
The pain stopped, the lights went away, and my mind went dark. Tears rolled down my face as I held onto Sam’s arms.
“Claire,” he whispered. He leaned back so he was fully lying on the ground, but he didn’t let me go. I moved back with him and we both fell asleep as he held me.
My eyes jerked open, and I looked down and found that Sam had his arm draped around my waist. I looked over at him and his eyes opened.
“Good morning.” He smiled.
I jumped up. “Sam, what the hell! Why did you stay here all night?”
“I needed to make sure you were okay. I wasn’t going to leave you like that.”
The headaches seemed to be coming more frequently since I moved to Seattle. “I appreciate that Sam, but it’s not your responsibility to take care of me,” I snapped at him.
He got up and looked at me with hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Claire, but I’m your friend, and friends look out for each other. I would hope that if something happened to me, you would look out for me.”
I dropped my shoulders and sighed. He was right and I was being nothing but a cold-hearted bitch. I walked over to where he was standing and put my hand on his heart.
“You have a kind and warm heart, Sam Snow. Thank you.”
He smiled and my heart melted, especially when he was standing there with messed up morning hair, looking as hot as ever.
“Do you have any coffee?” I asked as I bit down on my bottom lip.
“I sure do. I’ll go grab some and bring it over.”
“Thank you,” I said as I lifted my hand from his rock hard chest.
He walked over to his place, and I got in the shower. I stood and let the hot water run down my body as I thought about my episode from last night. I found it odd that as soon as Sam turned on Coldplay, the headache started. I must have been listening to that song, because what I saw was a glimpse of a memory, I know it was. But who was driving the car and singing with me? So many questions and so few answers; actually, no answers. I opened my eyes when I heard a door shut.
“Sam,” I called.
“Yeah, it’s just me. I brought the coffee. I’ll start a pot.”
I reached over for the shampoo, but I forgot to put anything in the shower. No soap, shampoo, razor, nothing. SHIT. Reluctantly, I called for Sam.
“Sam.”
“Yeah,” he yelled.
“Can you please go in my small bag and grab my shampoo, conditioner, body soap, and razor?”
I heard him laugh. “Sure.”
He knocked on the bathroom door, which was half open, and I was humiliated.
“Umm, here?”
“Just set it down on the ledge there,” I said.
I could feel him smiling. He walked out and, after I was done with my shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and looked around the bathroom. For fuck’s sake, I didn’t bring any clothes in with me.
“Sam, could you please turn around? I need to get some clothes.”
He laughed. “Okay, I’m not looking.”
I stepped out of the bathroom and looked down the hall to make sure Sam wasn’t looking. I ran to my bedroom and shut the door. I got dressed and, as I brushed my wet hair, the buzzer to my apartment rang.
“I got it, Claire.” Sam yelled.
When I stepped out of the bedroom, I saw two burly guys bringing in the boxes of things I’d bought. The coffee was done brewing and I took two cups from the cupboard and filled them to the top. I looked at Sam as I handed him a cup.
“I hope you like it black because I didn’t go to the grocery store and I don’t have any cream or sugar.”
He smiled lightly. “Black is fine.” He held his coffee cup up, brought it to mine, and lightly clanked them together.
“Here’s to your new move to Seattle. I hope you’ll like it here.”
I smiled. I’ll like it here as long as he lives across the hall, I thought to myself.
“Claire, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I really think you should see a doctor about those headaches.”
Here we go again. He won’t give up, will he?
“Sam, I’ve seen doctors, many doctors, and they don’t know what’s wrong. As long as I have my pills, I’ll be fine.
“No, you won’t be fine. I’ve never seen anyone in pain like that before.”
“It’s not that bad,” I lied.
“The hell it isn’t,” he said with irritation. “Last night was the second time I saw you like that and, to be honest, it scared the fuck out of me.”
“I’m sorry, Sam, but if we’re going to continue to be friends, then you’ll have to get used to it and stop asking me questions because I’m not going to give you any answers,” I snapped.
There, I said it. I made it perfectly clear that I was not opening up my life to him. His face looked pained and it hurt my heart to see him standing there like that. He put his coffee cup down on the counter.
“I’ve got to go home and shower. I have class in a couple of hours. I’ll see you around, Claire.”
I didn’t say a word as he walked out of my apartment, shutting the door behind him. Tears started to sting my eyes. I hurt him on a deeper level. I could tell, but I couldn’t let him get close to me. He deserved more and better than me. I tried to forget about our conversation and spent the day putting everything away and getting organized for the delivery of my furniture tomorrow. Since I needed to fill my refrigerator, I stepped out of the apartment and walked down the street to a small grocery shop that sat on the corner. I grabbed a basket and picked up a few items. I could only buy enough that I could carry back.
When I was finished and, as I walked out of the store, I noticed a guitar shop across the street. I waited for traffic to clear, walked across to the store, and went inside.
“You can set those bags down here on the counter if you want to look around,” a man who was covered in tattoos said.
“Thank you.” I smiled.
He stood about six feet tall, slender build, long black hair, and dark brown, mysterious eyes. Both arms were covered in tattoos; mostly religious tattoos of crosses and verses from the Bible. I walked over to the guitars that lined the walls. I loved the way guitars sounded when you strummed the strings.
“See anything you like?” the man said behind me.
My eye caught a Gibson Montana in vintage sunburst. After the accident, I would hide in my room and practice the guitar for hours every day along with the piano. The guitar and piano became my life and the music helped with my depression.
“Can I try that one?”
“You sure can. Been playing long?”
“About three years,” I answered.
He lifted the guitar off the hook from the wall and handed it to me. I ran my hand down the neck and around the base, getting a feel for it before I started to pluck the strings. This guitar felt right. I sat down and sat the guitar in my lap, holding it and positioning my fingers on the fret. I strummed each string as I switched notes. I smiled as I started to strum a tune I wrote back in Newport Beach. I saw the clerk smiling; his eyes cl
osed as he took in every note I played.
“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
I stopped playing and looked at him with a smile. “Berthold Auerbach’s quote.”
“Very good, little lady.” He winked at me.
“And he’s right. It does.” I stood up and handed him the guitar. “I’ll take it with that case over there and some guitar picks.”
“Great choice in guitars, little lady, and let me say that you really have a talent.”
“Thank you.” I smiled as I paid him.
I grabbed the case with the guitar in it and fumbled to hold the two bags of groceries. I smiled and walked out. Thank God my apartment was only around the block because I wasn’t going to be able to hold onto these groceries much longer. Just as I was approaching the building, a nice little old lady held the door open for me.
“Good day, dear. I see you have your hands full. Do you need some help?”
“No, thank you. I can manage.” I smiled.
“You’re the girl who moved in across the hall from Sam, aren’t you?”
I smiled as I looked at her. “Yes, I’m Claire Montgomery.”
“I’m Ida Whitfield, honey, nice to meet you. Sam told me about you.”
“Is that so?” I said as I cocked my head to the side.
Ida smiled. “No worries, honey. It was nothing but all good. I live right here in 1A. Come down sometime for coffee and biscuits and we can have a chat, get to know each other better.”
“Thank you, Ida, I will, but now I have to get this stuff upstairs.”
I walked up the stairs. Boy did I need to work out, especially my legs. I set one bag down as I reached in my pocket for my keys. I opened the door, grabbed my bag of groceries, and kicked the door shut behind me. I put everything away and looked at the guitar case propped up against the wall. I heard a door shut from across the hall and sensed Sam had just gotten home. I was missing him and I hated myself for letting me feel this way. I couldn’t stop thinking about last night and the way he held me while I cried and how he stayed with me all night to make sure I was okay. Was he falling for me? I knew damn well I was falling for him, and it scared the shit out of me. I didn’t know if I’d ever fallen for a guy before. At least if I did, I didn’t remember, and I had a hard time believing my family and friends when I asked. I picked up my phone and dialed Rachel.
“Claire, hi, how are you? Where are you? Are you okay?”
Rachel had a habit of just rambling on and not letting anyone get a word in.
“I’m fine Rachel. I’m in Seattle getting settled into my new apartment, and I wanted to call and say hi.”
“Aw, Claire, you sound sad and lonely,” she whined.
“I’m fine, Rachel, and I mean that. You and Ally are going to have to come here and visit me.”
“We’d love to. Have you met anyone there yet?”
I hesitated to tell her about Sam. “I just met the guy across the hall and Ida who lives downstairs.”
I heard excitement in her voice. “So, tell me about this guy across the hall. Is he hot? Is he sexy? What’s his name?”
I laughed. “Rachel, he is very nice looking, and that’s all you need to know right now.”
“Claire Montgomery, spill now!” she demanded.
“Listen, there’s nothing to spill. He helped me out with some boxes and that’s it. He’s a nice guy. Anyway, I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” she said.
“I know I’ve asked you this before, but are you sure I wasn’t seeing someone before the accident?”
There was a hint of hesitation in her voice. “No, Claire. You weren’t seeing anyone. You always said the guys you were attracted to were too immature and spoiled.”
I sighed.
“Why are you asking anyway?” she asked.
“Since I moved here, my headaches and memory flashes have gotten worse, and I had one last night with me in a car sitting next to someone and we were singing Coldplay together. It was a man’s voice, Rachel.”
“I don’t know, Claire, maybe it was your dad or Dylan. I don’t know, sweetie, but I have to go. I have to leave for work. I’ll call you soon. Love you.”
And just like that, she was gone. I held up the phone and stared at it. That was weird and I could sense a nervousness in her voice.
Chapter 12
I walked over to the guitar case, flipped the latches, and lifted the cover, exposing my new guitar. I smiled as I took it out and then sat down, leaning up against the wall. I strummed a few chords, noticing how tuned the guitar already was, compliments of the tattoo guy at the store. I started strumming the song “Winter” which was one of my favorite songs to play. I closed my eyes and played the entire tune, thinking about what the guy from the guitar store said.
“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.”
I always got lost when I played the guitar or the piano. I liked being transported to a world of my own where nothing could touch me or hurt me. I felt safe in my music world and that was where I went when I needed to escape and be alone. Suddenly, I was startled by a knock at the door.
“Clair, it’s Ida from downstairs.”
I got up from the floor and opened the door.
“Hello, dear. Was that you playing that beautiful song?”
“Yes, I’m so sorry if I disturbed you.”
“No, dear, I just had to come up and tell you how beautiful it was.”
I smiled and invited her in. She looked over my shoulder and saw an empty apartment.
“How about you come down to my place and bring that guitar with you? I would love for you to have some dinner with me. It can get kind of lonely by myself sometimes.”
As much as I didn’t want to bother her, I looked around my empty apartment. I grabbed my guitar, slipped on my shoes, and followed her downstairs. Her apartment was the same layout as mine. Her furniture was floral patterned that looked like it was from the seventies. She had little crocheted doilies on each table, and pictures of her children and grandchildren were scattered all over the place. It was your typical little old lady home.
“What’s that smell?” I asked.
“My homemade chicken soup. There isn’t anything like it. Come sit down, dear, and let me make you some tea.”
Ida stood about five feet tall. She kept her white hair pulled back neatly in a bun and her eyes were blue in color. Her skin was wrinkly and she didn’t wear any makeup. I sat at the table as she made tea for the both of us.
“Tell me about yourself, dear,” she said as she placed my teacup in front of me.
“There isn’t much to tell. I’m from Newport Beach, I have one sister, and I moved here to attend U of W.”
She sat down and steadily put her cup on the table. “So tell me what you think of Sam.”
I looked at her. “He’s been very nice and helpful to me.”
“Nice boy he is. I’d say he’d make a great husband to someone someday. He’s always down here fixing something for me or running an errand. That boy has the genes of a saint.”
I wanted to roll my eyes because I knew what she was trying to do. What she didn’t know was that I already knew what she was telling me was true, and I was trying hard to forget it.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” she asked.
I smiled gently at her. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. To be honest with you, Ida, I don’t want one either.”
“Psh,” she said as she waved her hand. “Everyone needs somebody. It’s the way life is. You can’t live by yourself your whole life. It’s a lonely road, my dear.”
I gave her a half smile as I took a sip of my tea. A few moments later, there was a knock at the door. Ida got up and opened it. I turned around and there was Sam standing in the doorway with a small bag in his arms.
“Is that chicken soup I smell, Ida?” He smiled as he gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“It sure is, Sam. Come on in. Look who’s here.
”
He glanced at me. I could tell he was uncomfortable and I hated myself for making him feel that way. “Hi, Claire,” he said as he walked over and set the bag on the counter.
“Hi, Sam.” I smiled.
“What is this, Sam?” Ida asked.
“I was at the store and just picked you up a few things.”
My heart melted and tears sprang to my eyes. This man was so perfect and so sweet to others and I treated him like shit. I looked down as Ida walked over to him. She cupped his face in her hands.
“You are the son I never had, and I love you, Sam Snow. Now sit down and I’ll get you some tea.”
He gave her a warm smile. “Ida, I have to go. I have…”
“Nonsense,” she cut him off. “You’re going to stay and have soup with me and Claire and I don’t want to hear another word about it,” she said in an authoritative tone.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he sat down next to me.
“Sorry,” I mouthed.
He gave me half of a smile. A half of a smile that filled my heart with warmth and made my stomach flutter.
“Sam, did you know this pretty little lady can play the guitar?”
He looked at me with those smoldering blue-gray eyes and said, “No, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, she can. Go ahead, dear, play something for us.”
“Yeah, play something for us, Claire.” He smiled.
I rolled my eyes at him, got up, and grabbed my guitar.
“Nice guitar. Wow, Claire, she’s a beauty.”
“Thanks, I just got it today at the music store down the street.”
“So you met Al?”
“If you’re referring to the man with a million tattoos, then yes.”
“He’s a good man, and wise too,” Sam said.
“Yeah, he was great and really helpful.”
I strummed my guitar and thought about what to play. I strummed a few chords and headed into a song. Sam stared into my eyes and started singing the lyrics.
“All I ever knew, only you.”
I started to sing with him and, before I knew it, we were singing together. His voice was angelic and each note he sang was perfect. I ended the song with a strum and he smiled.