“What did he say about it?”
She raised her eyebrows. “Now he and Draven are more determined for us to go with Austin.”
My eyes grew wide. “You showed them Britain?!”
“He saw my dream…I was thinking about it, and I didn’t know he was watching me – they don’t know the name – I doubt they think he’s real – I was more focused on that gray world.”
“Real enough to wanna leave.”
She shook her head. “They may be my cousins, but they’ve always acted like big brothers…they’re just overprotective of the both of us.”
“I may need you to save Britain…you caused him to hesitate – twice. That doesn’t happen to him. He always knows what to say and what to do.”
“Charlie, let this go – you don’t need me – you need Draven. I doubt he can be saved.” Even though her words were strong, her tone was weak…she saw something in him, too; she just didn’t want to admit it.
I looked in my rearview mirror to see Draven’s Hummer pulling in behind me.
“OK,” she said as she climbed out. She kept her eyes down and rushed to her car. It was obvious she was avoiding Draven.
I pulled my phone loose and pushed it in my bag as I got out. Draven was walking to me, looking over his shoulder at Madison.
“What have you guys been up to?” Draven asked, turning to look carefully over me.
“Nothing much….she’s gotten really fast at saving people.”
He stepped forward, let his hands settle on my waist, and pulled me to him. “We all have,” he whispered.
I didn’t wait for him to lean in to kiss me. I reached my arms around his neck and pulled him to me. The moment his lips touched mine, I felt the stress wash away and I pushed the pressure of Britain down deep inside.
Draven pulled slowly away and looked down. “Please tell me what’s wrong?” he pleaded.
I reached up and pulled his perfect face to me, stealing another kiss. “Get me through this dinner…and I’ll tell you everything.”
He started to say something, but Kara opened the back door, stopping him.
“Finally – are you trying to give me a stroke?” she said, looking at me.
I locked eyes with her and begged her just to stop and not say a thing about where I was. Draven looked back and forth between us.
Kara put on a fake smile. “Shall we?” she said, walking to Draven’s Hummer.
I didn’t look at him; I just put my arm around him and let him lead me to the passenger side of his truck. When he closed the door, Kara slid in the center of the backseat. “Well?”
“Not now.”
“Not good, Charlie,” she said in a concerned tone.
Draven climbed in. As his eyes met Kara’s in the mirror, I could see him looking all around her, hesitating as he backed out. I bit my lip, fearing he’d see right through her somehow and read her concern for me before I had a chance to explain. He didn’t say anything as he pulled forward.
“I hope you’re OK with eating early,” Kara said, putting her hand on his shoulder.
“Starving. I haven’t eaten today,” Draven said, smiling slightly.
“Me either,” I said quietly.
“Alright, no one tell mom that – wait, I’m innocent; she was in your care for breakfast and lunch,” Kara said in a teasing tone.
Draven’s jaw tightened and reached for my hand. “Starting to regret letting her out of my sight...”
He brought my hand to his lips and kissed my skin.
Kara relaxed into her seat, and I reached to turn up the radio.
“This is what I did today,” Draven said, nodding in the direction of the sound.
I started to rock back and forth with the sound, recognizing some of the lyrics: ‘hold fast to the dream you think you never had.’
Mom texted Kara before we pulled into the restaurant, saying she already had a table and appetizers ordered. Kara climbed out as soon as Draven parked. I fumbled with my seat belt, feeling nervous. Draven reached over and unlatched it for me.
“Calm down,” he said quietly.
I tried to smile and avoided his eyes as I climbed out. He met me in front of the Hummer and took my hand. I focused on the hum I felt from his skin and followed Kara in.
Mom was sitting at a side table, dressed in one of her powerhouse business suits. As soon as she saw us, she tucked her phone in her purse and stood up and hugged Kara, kissing her on the cheek. I let go of Draven’s hand, knowing I’d be next.
“Wow…this feels good…like it should,” she said, smiling at me and Draven.
“Mrs. Myers,” Draven said, reaching to hug her.
“Stop it,” she said, reaching up to hug him. “’Nichole’...you know that.”
He hugged her back, smiling at me over her shoulder.
Mom let go of him and reached for me. “I missed you,” she whispered in my ear.
“You, too,” I said, squeezing her.
She extended her arms and looked over me. I swear, I could see concern there. I looked away and took a seat at the table.
“So where’s Nana and Aden?” Mom asked Draven as they sat down next to me.
“Aden was on his way to pick her up from playing cards all day,” Draven answered.
“They should have come,” Mom said, laying her napkin across her lap.
“I promised them I’d bring them dessert home. I’m sure Nana is tired. I think she puts too much effort into those games sometimes,” Draven said lightheartedly.
“Sounds like her,” my mother said tenderly.
The waitress took our order, and we listened to Mom tell us all about her flights and how insane it was to try and get from one place to another without having to dodge weather. How proud she was of her team and Boston – that she felt comfortable letting them handle things there so she could come home. I nodded along with the conversation and smiled when the time seemed right, but my thoughts were wandering.
Mom looked across the table at me and Draven as they brought our dinner to us. “So what have you two been doing the last few days?”
“Finding our way back,” Draven answered politely.
My mother’s eyes looked carefully over me as she reached for her silverware. I looked down and began to push my food from side to side. I was too nervous to eat. I wanted to talk to Draven alone…to deal with that…then maybe – maybe then I could find a way to connect with my mom.
“Well…I can tell we’re almost there,” my mom said quietly.
Draven smiled slightly and looked to his side at me.
“I understand that we now remember how to play music?” my mother said as her eyes searched over me.
I looked up to question her words. I assumed Nana and Kara had kept her informed on my progress.
“Have we learned a song?” my mother asked quietly.
I felt my cheeks blush and my heart race. I couldn’t look in her eyes. I looked down and nodded.
“A really good one, well written,” Draven said, reaching his arm around the back of my chair.
“I can’t wait to hear it,” my mom said.
It took all I had, but I looked into her blue eyes. “Really?” I asked nervously.
“Of course,” she said, reaching to touch my hand. She turned my palm up and looked down at my fingertips. “You’ve been playing,” she said, running her smooth skin over the callouses that were starting to form over them.
I nodded and looked down at my hand, remembering how empowering if felt when I played music. In the back of my mind, I was wondering if there was a way to just play a perfect song for the shadows – if there was a way I could help them all at once.
We finished dinner in silence. I could see Draven, Kara, and Mom glancing at one another, then me. I was sure they were having some kind of silent conversation.
When the waitress came back, Draven ordered dessert to go for Nana and Aden. I was starting to think I could just go with him to take it to them – that Kara could r
ide with mom. I wanted to talk to him about Britain – Bianca...to get it off of my chest. I thought I’d done my part – I had dinner with my mom…now I had other issues to deal with.
“Did your dad say when he’d be back?” Mom asked Draven.
“He didn’t… last time I talked to him, he was trying to get in touch with some old friends,” Draven answered.
I looked to my side at him, remembering that Madison had said that there were more of us. I was curious to know how many – to see if they had a faster way of making the whispers silent.
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life – it’s that friends are always there when you need them – I’m sure he’ll find them,” my mom said as she smiled at Draven.
“If he doesn’t, we’ll be fine…we’ve made it this far,” Draven said, looking to his side at me.
I just looked down, growing more nervous as the minutes ticked by. I just wanted to talk to him alone. I fumbled with the words I’d have to say in my mind. I was terrified that he’d be angry with me – that he wouldn’t see that I was just trying to protect him.
When the waitress came back, Draven tried to pay, but my mom managed to beat him to it.
“So, um…,“ he said, looking down at me. “I guess I’m gonna take these to them,” he said, nodding to the dessert.
“I’ll go with you,” I said, scooting my chair back.
“I tell you what,” he said, catching my gaze. “I’ll take these; you can help your mom get settled – show her what you learned – then I’ll come back over in a while, if you want.”
“That sounds nice,” my mom said, agreeing with him.
I started to argue, but he leaned forward and kissed my forehead, then stood, taking his bags with him. I closed my eyes as he walked away, wanting to chase after him.
“I can’t tell you how relieved I am to see you with him,” my mother said.
I blushed before opening my eyes. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
Kara raised her hands as if to look accomplished. “Did you hear that? No sarcasm at all – I’m a good role model.”
Mom laughed and shook her head as she stood and grabbed her purse. I slid back in my chair and stood to follow them out. On the way home, Kara talked out the story line of her book with mom. I stared out the window, letting my mind trace over the conversation I had with Britain – the fight with Bianca. I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to try and face this on my own. I hated myself for it.
When we got home, I helped mom carry her bags to her room. The guitar sound seemed to be louder now than ever before, making it hard to ignore. I watched my mom closely to see if she showed any sign of hearing it, but she simply started to unpack quietly.
“I’m gonna go up to my room. I guess I’ll see you when you’re settled,” I said quietly.
“I’m just gonna change into something comfortable. I’ll be there in a minute,” she said as I walked out of the room.
I unzipped Draven’s hoodie as I climbed the stairs to my room. I walked to the edge of my bed and sat down, pulling my bag to my lap. I reached in for my phones, wanting to charge them. I pulled out Britain’s first; there was one message: ‘we need to talk’. I cringed as I read the text and let the phone fall to the floor, feeling frustrated – and afraid. I didn’t want to talk anymore – I knew he’d just confuse me…what did he mean that Draven was the one that was blind? Did he mean that because I hadn’t told him about them? Something told me it was much more than that.
The guitar sound began to scream at me. I knew it was saying to run, to end this, but I didn’t know how. I felt my bag vibrate and reached in for my phone. Draven had sent a text: ‘play for the both of them – I’ll be there before you know it.’ I smiled at his words, but then the dread of what I had to say to him came to me. I stood, reading his text over and over again, trying to find courage as I climbed the stairs to my father’s studio.
The sun was setting, and a purple haze coated the room. I thought I felt my dad, so I looked up, scanning every inch of the thin air, not finding any sign of him. I walked slowly to the couch, slid my phone in my bag, then took it off and let it fall to the floor. I turned and walked to the guitar stand and let my fingers dance across each one. The echo of the guitar around me grew almost silent, as if it were waiting for me to play with it.
I let my shoulders fall, finally losing all the nerve I had to play for my mom. “I think if I play for her….it’ll make her sad,” I said quietly.
“It won’t,” I heard my mother say tenderly. “I promise.”
I froze, unable to say a word. I looked over my shoulder to see her standing at the doorway in holy jeans and a tank top. I furrowed my eyebrows, knowing I’d never seen her dressed so comfortable. She shrugged her shoulders. “ I found them in my closet,” she said, looking down at her jeans.
I turned and looked out the window toward Draven’s house. This would be so much easier if he were here. I was angry with myself. I’d waited so long to finally connect with my mom – to feel some kind of bond, and the moment I got what I wanted, I was too distracted to make it a good memory – I was sure I’d mess this up – and in the end, we’d be worse than we were before.
She walked slowly to the couch and took a seat on the far end, then nodded her head toward the rack. “I’m ready to listen,” she said, smiling affectionately.
“Really?” I asked, quietly trying to judge her mood, to see if she was just trying to be strong.
She nodded and tilted her head toward the stand. I looked around the room once more, thinking if I saw my dad again, I’d be stronger. I still felt him, but he wasn’t showing himself. It almost felt like he was letting us have our moment. I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then reached for the black and grey electric guitar. I led the cord to the amp around to the side of the couch and climbed up on the arm, facing my mother. I plugged the amp in and adjusted the guitar across my lap.
I glanced at my mother to see her slowly moving her head from side to side with a slight smile.
“What?” I asked, thinking I was doing something all wrong.
“Irony...beautiful irony,” she said, nodding for me to play.
I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering what she meant by that, then looked down at the guitar. I adjusted my fingers around the neck and closed my eyes. I forgot she was there. I forgot everything that was bothering me at that moment, and I played. I played so perfectly, for a moment I thought it wasn’t me, that the sound of my father’s guitar had just risen again. As the music played, I felt absorbed by it, completely safe; it was like this song simply had the power to make me forget everything, yet hold on to my convictions. Once I was finished, I kept my eyes closed for a second. I heard the sound of my father’s guitar erupt, as if to applaud my performance. A blushing grin spread across my face, and I slowly opened my eyes.
My mother was staring at me. She wasn’t sad like I thought she’d be - she seemed content. I watched as her eyes searched over me, and the concern I knew she had surfaced in her expression. I stood and gently removed the cord to the amp before placing the guitar back on the stand. I kept my back to her as I studied my fingertips….the cuts there….made me feel strong.
“Charlie,” my mother said quietly.
I looked over my shoulder at her, and she extended her arm for me to come sit by her side. I kept my head down and went to her. She let one arm fall around me and reached her other to hold my hand.
“That was beautiful,” she said quietly.
I didn’t say anything; I just leaned into her. Slowly, her soft fingers circled on my hand.
“Does it make you feel safe when you hear it?” she asked, looking down at me.
I looked up at her and let my eyes tell her yes.
She smiled vaguely. “I understand that you remembered how to see last night?”
“Nana called you?” I questioned, fearing she’d told her everything.
She let her eyes tell me no. I furrowed my eyebrows a
s I searched over every part of her beautiful face.
“I want you to see me right now. I want you to listen to me tell you about the first time I heard that song,” she whispered, leaning her head against mine, still turning her soft fingertips on the top of my hand.
My heart started to race, and heat flushed in my cheeks. Then out of nowhere, I felt a warm hum absorb me, and a calm that couldn’t belong to me took over. I stared into her eyes, and memories that could only belong to her came to life around me. I was sure I hadn’t seen them before – that she’d shielded them from me. I could remember feeling the frustration of not seeing her before – I remembered thinking that it was because she didn’t want me to really know her – that she’d lost all trust in humanity. Seeing this wall fall now made me feel…honored.
“Life was perfect in every way… we were happy. He came home just before the last leg of his tour. He told me he just had to see us. I remember being so mad at him because he managed to spend almost the entire two days he was here in this studio.”
Suddenly, I was standing next to her in the corner of this room. It was dark, and my father was on the couch playing the black and grey guitar…the song I’d just played. My mother, very pregnant with me, was standing in the doorway in a long white cotton night gown, a sleepy smile on her face.
He reached his arm out for her to come to his side. She sat down next to him, and he leaned forward and kissed her lips tenderly, holding her stomach.
He then reached up and let his hand cradle her face. “I’m gonna play this for you – for the baby, and I need you to remember it,” he said softly.
“Tomorrow,” my mother said, taking his hand, wanting to go to bed, but he pulled her gently back down to the couch and stared intently at her.
“Listen, I need you to listen – this will keep her safe,” he pleaded through an innocent smile.
“’Her’?” my mother said, raising her eyebrows as if to question why he assumed that I’d be a girl.
He didn’t answer her; he just smiled, then began to play my song, holding her stare.
It was more than I could take. I had to step out of this memory. I had to glance away. My heart was racing, and I could barely breathe. I had no idea what she’d show me next, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I felt her arms tighten around me. “Listen to my voice – look at me,” she said calmly.