by Daisy Allen
I sigh. “Would you forgive me if I couldn’t stay?” There’s a pause, and a sigh.
“We’re brothers. Always and forever.”
I reach out, and my hand finds his shoulder and I hug him. My chest filling with love for my best friend.
“I’ll finish this song, okay? Then I’ll find some way to go, without making too much of a fuss.”
“You’re on. I hope you get her, man. I really hope you do. So, look, we might as well decide what we’re going to do when they get it up and going again.”
“Marius, Brad can you hear us?”
“Yeah. Jez, can you take it from the chorus?” Marius suggests.
“Yeah, good. How ‘bout from… da da da da da.” I sing.
“From where?”
“From da da da da da…” I repeat, singing the bridge from Noémie’s composition.
“No, I think I’ll take it right from the top,” says a voice I don’t expect.
A voice I never thought I’d hear again.
And as if on cue, a spotlight appears right on stage, right beside me.
It grows from a small circle, bigger and bigger, until it lights up her whole body.
Noémie .
She’s here and holding a ukulele. Smiling at me.
She gives me a wink and starts to strum her ukulele.
It’s my song.
I’d never heard her play it before. Our interpretation was just that, ours.
But hers… is perfection.
Her fingers press down, making the notes as she grins at me. And then she starts to sing.
And it takes my breath away.
But now’s not the time to asphyxiate. I pick up my cello and she watches me, still playing, the crowd confused but slowly gaining in sound, getting into the performance. I lift my bow, perpendicular to the strings and I pull. And we’re in it together.
I never take my eyes off hers, as our instruments dance to the end of the song.
Her gentle strumming, note by note, against the deep, resonant tone of my cello.
We end at the same time. And there’s silence.
I drop my bow onto the ground as she lets her arm fall, her ukulele clattering to the stage floor.
“I was… I was coming to find you,” I tell her, though it all sounds redundant.
“I know. I heard,” she smiles.
“What are you doing here?”
“I had something to return to you,” she says, nodding toward the stage wings.
Someone comes running out and hands her a jacket.
Oh my god.
She holds it out to me. “I think this is yours. Actually, I know it is.”
It’s my jacket, the leather jacket I’d given her that night to keep warm.
I’d forgotten about that. But she remembers.
“You know?”
“Yes. I know. I know it all. I remember it all, Jez.”
I reach out, like a zombie, taking the jacket from her, as a million thoughts flood my brain, none of them making traction.
All I can think is, she’s here.
“I know that you saved my phone from a urinary death. I know that you saved me from being stomped on by a thousand drunken bar goers. I know you are a cake thief. I know you know why I love the word Autumn. I know I didn’t tell you where I work and you must’ve cared enough to find out to come looking for me. I know that more than anything, I wanted you to kiss me that night. I know that I was wrong to push you away. But if I hadn’t, I might not know what I know now.”
“And what is that?” I hold my breath, in case I accidentally exhale too hard and blow this whisper of a dream away.
“That nobody knows me like you know me. And nobody ever will.” Why is she smiling like that? So big and bright, it’s making it hard for me to think.
I fidget with the jacket. I might’ve been ready to run out of here to find her, but I knew I had some time to think about what I wanted to say. Right now, it’s all still a jumble of thoughts. Everything but that one thought. That three-word phrase.
“And what about how I feel about you? What do you know about that?”
“That that is something you need to tell me, Jez. Right here, right now. Not in writing, not in song. Just to me, face to face.”
I turn around, taking in everything around me.
My three best friends, grinning so hard I’m afraid their faces might split clear in two. The fucking bastards. They knew. They knew this was going to happen all along.
I look out into the cheering, shouting, stomping crowd, who has no idea what’s going on, just that they’re glad to be a part of it.
And her.
The only one who I would’ve given it all up for.
Who never asked for anything but that I trust and believe her.
Who never gave me anything but the best of her.
I reach out for her hand, and she gives it to me. I squeeze it, and I see a flicker of surprise on her face. It’s the first time I’ve held her hand, without feeling some pain.
Anywhere, not just in my hand.
“Emmie, ask me again,” I finally say.
“Ask you what?”
“To tell you something about me nobody knows.”
She smiles and moves closer to me, leaning in, her mouth against my ear, her hand coming up to shelter the soundwaves from rippling away before I can hear them.
“Jez, tell me something about yourself that nobody else knows.”
She moves to pull away but I grab her arms and pull her hard against me, my hand coming to brace against her back, the other hand tangling in her hair.
She’s burning hot against me, her legs in between mine.
Her face glistens from the spotlight refracting[R8] off the perspiration.
Like a halo.
My angel.
“I love you. You’re the only person I’ve ever loved. And the only person I will ever love. You’re my all.”
And then I kiss her.
Like I’ve always wanted to kiss her.
Like she’s always wanted to be kissed.
With a ten thousand strong crowd cheering us on, and a string trio playing in the background.
EPILOGUE
It’s hard to finish the concert after all the excitement, but we get through it, and it’s pretty clear that it’s my best concert to date. Aching wrist and slightly stiff fingers and all.
We’d pulled out the big guns since it was our first public performance for 8 months with guest performances, the most popular being by Anca and Cadence. And of course, it all ended an encore that had the four of us guys and the two of them, and the last-minute addition of Noémie, that almost blew the roof off.
We stand there, as the last of the notes of the song, grinning at each other, the seven of us on stage like we were always meant to end up together like this, a musical tour de force, joined by the simple and pure love for music.
The lights shut off for the second time that night, this time I’m prepared for it. I grab Noemie’s arm and lead her off the stage, down the stairs to the green room.
Her skin is buzzing with static, excitement.
I slam the door closed behind us, and it’s finally just the two of us, staring at each other like it’s the first time we’ve ever seen another human being.
I say the first thing that pops into my head.
“You are one fucking crazy loony ass woman!”
She throws her head back and roars with laughter.
And it’s the best sound I’ve heard in my life.
I join in, laughing so hard I bend over, clutching my aching stomach muscles, that I barely notice when she jumps into my arms.
“What kind of woman am I again?” She asks, grinning at me.
“You’re my kind of woman. The exact type. The prototype. And the mold has now been broken.” I say, wrapping my arms tight around her, reassuring myself that she’s really here and not just one of the many hallucinations I’ve had of her over the months we were apart.
/>
She giggles but I silence her with a kiss and her body melts against mine in an instant.
There’s a tiny purr in the back of my throat and it’s so endearing I pull away from her mouth and gently nibble on her throat, wanting to feel the hum against my lips. She complies and it send shivers down my body.
“I missed you so much,” I tell her.
And she nods.
“I’m sorry, I pushed you away, but I had to…I needed that time. So much happened that day, and the months before it, as much as I loved you, wanted to be with you, I think I…maybe the both of us, needed time to deal with that, instead of just focusing on us.”
And she’s right. Of course she’s right.
“And now?” I ask.
“Now, I’m all yours. Working brain and all,” she grins tapping on her temple. I brush her hand away and press my lips to her forehead.
“You remember everything?”
“I think so, it didn’t all come back right away. But, remember how I just kinda knew that you called me Toilet Girl?” I nod. “Well, it’s like I just knew things. And at first, it was a little confusing, because instead of making me feel like I remembered, it made it feel like I had new holes in my memory. But everything filled out eventually.”
“It was good for me too,” I admit to her. “I mean, it was excruciating, but I had to focus on my recovery. And my apology.”
She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything.
“I should’ve believed you. I didn’t. But I should’ve. I’m so sorry.”
She presses a finger to my lips.
“No, I owe you an apology. It was asking too much. There wasn’t any reasonable logic as to why you should’ve believed me. I didn’t even really believe me. I was just going on…knowing myself.”
“And I should’ve known you…yourself.”
She shakes her head. “Shhhh, it’s over. We’re good.”
“Promise?”
She nods.
I sink into the couch and pull her into my lap, she hooks her arms around my neck and kisses me, deep and long.
When she finally pulls away, I sigh, completely content.
“So, um, I know I gave you the jacket back, but actually, it is mine You gave it to me as a birthday present, remember?”
“Yeah, but you broke up with me.” I say, patting the sleeve of my jacket, affectionately.
“Technically, you broke up with me first, and since you didn’t ask for it back then, it’s mine. Hand it over, buster.”
I laugh and pull it off and drape it around her shoulders. She sighs happily. And I know in that moment, I’m probably never going to win another argument again.
“So, you remember about the cake confession do you?”
“Yes! I remember that you are a dirty cake thief.” She shakes her finger at me.
“Just so you know, I admitted it to Anca, recently,” I say proudly.
“Oh?”
“Well, okay, she made me admit it. She already knew, of course,” I laugh.
“And she loves you anyway?”
“Eh, what can I say, I’m irresistible to women,” I shrugs.
“Especially fucking crazy ass loony ones?” She pokes me hard in the chest.
“Those ones just can’t get enough of me.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me again.”
And who am I to refuse?
“So, what do you want to do, now that you’re finally here in Paris?”
“Oh, I think you know what.”
“The Eiffel Tower? There aren’t dancing fountains here you know!”
She pouts a little, but then grins. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to make up for it.” She jumps up and grabs my hand pulling me to my feet.
“You know what, Emmie? I think I have just the thing.”
I reach into my pants pocket, and feel the ring box that I’ve carried with me, since the day I went to see her in Maine and smile.
The End
Suggested Listening List (inspired by Rock Me)
Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien – Edith Piaf
Rainbow Connection – Kermit The Frog
The Flight Of The Bumblebee – Rimsky Korsakov
Black Betty – Ram Jam
Les Feuilles Mortes (Autumn Leaves) – Jacques Brel
Ne Me Quittes Pas – Jacques Brel
Celine Dion - Recovering
Hurt – Johnny Cash
About the Author
The first thing you should know about the author is, she hates writing these “About the Author” things.
But if you should run into her in a café in her hometown of Adelaide, Australia, then, for the price of a free smile, she’ll tell you details you never needed to hear about another person.
Her husband can vouch for this. It’s how they met. Kinda. But you’ll hear about that when you run into her in a café in Adelaide.
She hopes you liked her book though. Like, really. It’s pretty much all she’s ever wanted to do. Write a book that you’d want to read.
Thanks for helping to fulfil that dream by reading this book.
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All Books by Daisy Allen
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An O’Reilly Clan Novel
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* * *
[JD1]Since when?
[JD2]This is what you need to change to make clearer if she’s at his parents’ house.
[R3]What is a flick fringe?
[R4]It’s not a term I’ve ever heard of outside of Lit – not sure if you want the connection.
[R5]Did ypu mean this to say thaink, or think?
[R6]Provided Chapter Twelve gets written and inserted above
[R7]I don’t understand what you are trying to say here.
[R8]Not sure exactly what you are trying to suggest – probably should be reflecting rather than refracting if you are going for halo.