Face The Music

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Face The Music Page 9

by Andrea K. Robbins


  Chris pushed his way through the crowd of onlookers just as the paramedics lifted the gurney. He reached me in two long strides and took my hand, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. As if entering a tunnel of darkness, my consciousness was lost.

  The next thing I remember, I was lying in a hospital bed. The beeping of the monitors echoed in my ears. My eyes were heavy, and I struggled unsuccessfully to open them. Emily’s soft cry came from the other end of the room as the doctor gave her my diagnosis.

  “Fractured ankle and two cracked ribs,” he said. “I’m confident those will heal with time. There was a good-sized laceration just above the hairline on her left temple. It took twelve stitches to close it up, and I think it’s safe to say she’ll experience some tenderness and bruising.”

  “She’s going to be okay though, right?”

  “She’s very lucky. It could have been a lot worse.” He seemed to hesitate. “She hit her head and has been in and out of consciousness. I’m sure it’s nothing serious, but we’re going to run some tests to be sure. We’ll know more after we have those results. I’ve given her something for the pain, and you can be sure we’re going to keep a close watch on her.”

  Poor Emily. I’d always been the one to take care of her and soften the blows of all the tragedies we’d suffered through years. Who would be there for her now? Who would take care of her? Blackness again…

  The next thing I remembered, Jake was sitting close to the bed and holding my hand. He was arguing with someone, his voice a controlled, low growl. I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying or tell who he was angry at. Blackness….

  Fingers brushed my cheek. I again tried to open my eyes, but they wouldn’t budge. I sighed, or at least I think I did, because I got a lungful of Chris’s intoxicating smell.

  “Allie.” It was him. He picked up my limp hand and held it in his own, turning it over and running his smooth fingers across my palm.

  Despite my state of consciousness, my body reacted to his touch. The monitor beeped, registering my racing heart, and a jolt electrified my insides. I tried to respond to him, but my lips and eyelids were so heavy I couldn’t will them open.

  “You still owe me that dance, you know,” he urged as he traced circles on my skin. The pleasure was maddening. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to leave you? The last thing I wanted was-.”

  I fought to hold consciousness, fought to hear his words. Blackness…

  I woke up for real sometime the next day. The nurse was checking my vitals when I opened my eyes. “Mmm,” I moaned, squinting against the bright light. My mouth felt dry and sticky, and any headache I’d ever had paled in comparison to the thumping I now felt behind my temples.

  “Good morning, sunshine! How are you feeling?” Her bright red lips curved into a smile. She pressed her cool hand against my forehead, and I winced.

  My entire body ached. “Like I fell down three flights of stairs. What day is it?”

  “It’s Friday afternoon, honey. You hold still and I’ll go get your doctor.”

  I glanced at the tangle of clear tubing hanging from an IV hook and followed the lines to my arms. “Do I have a choice?” I asked as she disappeared in the hallway. I couldn’t go anywhere even if I’d wanted to.

  Within a few minutes, the doctor came in and looked over my chart. “Well hello there, Ms. Banks, I’m pleased to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

  I told him the same thing I told the nurse.

  “That’s a good sign, no memory loss?” He shined his bright little flashlight into my eyes.

  I grinned at the stupidity of his question. “Um, no, I don’t think so. But if I did lose my memory, how would I know? What would I say I had forgotten?”

  He chuckled. “I think you’re going to be just fine. Your ankle is fractured. We’ll get it set and then have you fitted for a walking boot. You might feel some tenderness in your ribs, but only time will heal that. Try to stay as still as possible, okay? Can I get you anything?”

  “No, thank you,” I said just as Emily walked in.

  Relief flooded her face. “Allie! Oh, thank God you’re awake.” She rushed over and stood next to the bed, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

  I took her hand and smiled through my pain. “Emily, listen to me- I’m fine. It’s just my ankle, nothing they can’t fix. Don’t get upset.”

  She wiped her eyes. “Isn’t this just like us? You’re the one in a hospital bed, and I’m the one who needs comforting.” She smiled weakly. “Are you okay? You did fall down three flights of stairs, you know.”

  “Yeah, I guess. What happened, anyway? I remember not feeling well, and Jake took me outside, but everything after that is kind of fuzzy.”

  Emily studied me, her lips trembling. “Jake said he was going in to find you something to eat. He thought maybe your blood sugar was low, and that’s why you weren’t feeling good. But then you slipped on a patch of ice. He said he tried to catch you, but you were just out of his reach. And then you fell backwards and hit your head on the steps and just kept going until you were on the sidewalk. He called for an ambulance and ran inside, yelling for help.” Her voice cracked, and she turned to the doctor. “Did the tests come back? Is everything okay?”

  He adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses and flipped through my chart. “Everything looks good. She should be back to normal in no time.”

  She fixed me with a solemn gaze. “You scared the hell out of me, Allie.”

  The doctor’s beeper went off. He glanced at it before looking back at me. “We’d like to keep you one more night for observations. Assuming all goes well, which I have no reason to believe it won’t,” he added when Emily frowned, “you can go home tomorrow morning. If you don’t have any more questions…”

  “We’ll be fine,” Emily said. “Thank you.”

  “Where’s Molly?” I asked after he left.

  “Mrs. Johnson has her.” Emily studied the monitors, but her lips were curved into a knowing smile.

  “What?” Sometimes I couldn’t keep up with her.

  “You’ve been a busy girl, haven’t you?” I had no idea what she was talking about, and my empty expression must have told her so because she continued. “Really, Allie? Two guys? Isn’t that a little selfish?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, come on, like you don’t know.”

  My expression did not change.

  “Fine, let me spell it out for you. Jake! And Chris! They were both here, all night and most of the morning. They only left because Chris had to get to rehearsal and Jake had to go to work.”

  I shook my head; Emily was good at reading more into a situation than there really was. “Seriously, Em, you need to take up a hobby.”

  She pretended to look insulted.

  “Jake and I are friends. You know that. We’ve been hanging out since the start of the show. Chris, well, he’s probably just concerned about the fact that I’m here lying in a hospital bed. Besides, he’s a star. He’s the kind of guy a girl only dreams about.” I closed my eyes, feeling as though a vise grip was tightening around my temples. “And could you imagine, living that life?” I whispered. “Whether or not he wins, he’s destined for fame. Hell, he’s already there. He won’t have time to get serious with anyone, and why would he want to? He’ll be so busy with contracts and records and parties that…” I realized it sounded like I was trying to convince myself, so I stopped.

  Emily fixed her narrowed eyes on me. “You are so thick-headed! Let’s say it was me lying here, and there were two gorgeous guys hovering at my bedside and fretting over my every little twitch. What would you think?”

  “Emily…”

  “You can’t tell me you don’t see it!” She studied me for several seconds before continuing. “Or, maybe you don’t want to. Are you still hung up on Paul?”

  I flinched

  “Oh, honey!” Her lower lip poked out as she pulled her mouth into a frown. I felt like a pathetic litt
le child. “You need to move on. Your ankle may be broken, but you’re not. Not all guys are like him.”

  Deep down I knew she was right. It was time to forget about Paul, but I couldn’t just make the hurt and shattered trust magically disappear. “Emily, I know you’re trying to be helpful,”

  She groaned and paced the room.

  “…and I love you for that,” I continued. “Really, I do. And maybe there is something, I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. I can’t go through that again. I couldn’t take it.”

  “So now what, you’re just going to live the life of a lonely, bitter woman? That sounds like a tantalizing future.”

  “It’s only been six months!” I cried out. “Paul and I were together for two and a half years. It still hurts. Just give me some time, please!” Tears spilled out onto my cheeks as I fought to keep things suppressed. The memories were too fresh, though.

  “Do you know what he said to me that night? Before walking out?”

  She shook her head.

  “He told me he was bored. He said I was sucking the life right out of him.”

  Emily scowled. “That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard. I never liked that guy, Allie. Something about him, I don’t know what. I never trusted him.”

  “There must be some truth or else he wouldn’t have left. I had no idea he felt that way. I thought we were happy. I was. But he said I was suffocating him, and he had to get out.”

  “Now you listen to me!” Her voice was angry. “Don’t you believe any of that, not even for a second. If he couldn’t see how amazing you are, well, it just goes to show how little attention he paid.”

  I turned my head to hide the fresh tears.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you so unhappy. I miss my sister.” Her voice was softer, less frustrated.

  “I’m not unhappy. Not completely. And I’ll be okay, someday, but you’ve got to stop pushing me to do things I’m not ready for.”

  “You’re right.” She sighed and looked at her watch. “I gotta run. I just wanted to stop by and check on you. I’m so glad you’re awake. I’ll be back later, okay?”

  ***

  Jake and Emily came by the hospital Saturday morning to take me home. “Hi, gorgeous! How ya’ feeling?” Jake asked as he helped me climb into the backseat of the cab. I managed a smile but was too sore and doped up on pain medication to hold any kind of a decent conversation.

  He all but carried me up to the apartment. Once in bed, I fell into a heavy sleep. When I woke up later that night I was surprised to find them both in the living room. Emily was kicked back on the recliner watching a late night movie, and Jake was sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep.

  “Hey, sleepyhead,” Emily said, looking up from the TV.

  “Hi,” I said dazedly. “What’s he doing here?”

  “He insisted on staying and fell asleep about an hour ago.” She grinned and got up from her chair, following me to the kitchen. “You got flowers.”

  I hobbled towards the table to have a closer look. “Why are you home?”

  “I took the weekend off. My boss was okay with it when I told her about your, um, accident. You’ve had visitors, but I didn’t let anyone in since you were sleeping.”

  I looked at the clock- it was almost eleven. I had literally slept the entire day. “Thanks.”

  I removed the card from a cheerful vase of black and yellow sunflowers. Get well soon, Miss Banks. We miss you. Love, Melody, Sam, and Riley. They sure were sweet kids. I couldn’t wait to see them again.

  A bunch of red carnations speckled with white baby’s breath sat behind the sunflowers. I’m so glad you’re okay. Your man, Jake. I looked up at Emily.

  “He feels really bad,” she explained. “He said he should have caught you.”

  I frowned. “That’s ridiculous.”

  The biggest arrangement was a heavy clear vase filled with pink stargazer lilies. For my favorite star. ~Chris.

  I tried to hide my smile.

  “Aren’t they gorgeous?” she asked. “He stopped by after lunch, but you were still asleep.”

  My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. He was so thoughtful. They all were. It was comforting to know that so many people cared.

  Chapter 11

  The doctor didn’t release me to go back to work until Wednesday, but a creature of habit, I woke up at the crack of dawn Monday morning. Emily was in the kitchen. “Morning,” she said, pausing to take a bite of drippy cereal. “How’s the leg?”

  “It hurts.”

  A crumpled grocery bag was on the table. Inside was my dress. The hem was frayed, and I picked it up to inspect the damage when one of Grams’s earrings fell to the floor. I shook out the bag and the dress, looking for the other.

  “You only had the one on when we got to the hospital,” Emily said. “Sorry, I know how special those were to you.”

  Without thinking, I reached up and touched my bare earlobe. I was sick at the thought that I’d lost one.

  I spent the day lounging around the apartment, trying to stay off my feet. Bored out of my mind, I went back and forth between my laptop, my schoolwork, and the TV. By dinner time I felt like the walls were closing in on me.

  Something was definitely off about the show that night. Riley opened with a karaoke-style performance of Madonna’s Express Yourself. Sam, Cynthia, and Melody all followed, but weren’t much better. Everybody got all the words and didn’t miss their moves, but the routines were lacking something. It was like everyone was exhausted and only working at half-capacity.

  “I don’t know what the problem is,” Lucy complained, wrinkling her nose as a disappointed Melody left the stage. “Is there a full moon or something? Everyone sounds so flat tonight.”

  The music of Hinder’s Better than Me began to play. Bright green lights danced around the stage, and a guitarist in the background strummed the soft chords. Chris’s stage presence didn’t hold a fraction of its normal vitality. In fact, he looked about as good as I felt. He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes, and it was almost as though the accompaniment had more energy than he did. The chorus was vocally demanding, and the strain was evident on his face as he really pushed himself to hit the higher notes. He still sounded good, but there was something different about his voice.

  Stella picked up on it right away. “I was worried about you tonight because I heard you’ve been sick, but you pulled it off. Your lower bass tones really came through in this one.” The audience cheered.

  “When did you first notice you were getting sick?” Bradley asked after the judges were through with their comments.

  “Friday night, I guess.” His voice was hoarse. “I went to bed with a sore throat.” He turned his head and coughed into his fist.

  Bradley patted him on the back. “Well, take it easy and rest those vocal chords. It just wouldn’t be right to lose you to a cold.”

  I muted the TV when the show broke for commercials. I was shocked. I had no idea Chris was sick. What would happen if he didn’t get better by the next performance? What if he got worse?

  I watched the rest of the show without really hearing much. At the end, I was saddened to see Riley voted off.

  ***

  Emily frowned at me when I came in Tuesday afternoon, my arms filled with shopping bags. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  “I’m fine. I just had to get out for awhile. Get some fresh air.”

  She pulled a bottle of cold medicine from one of the sacks. “Are you sick?”

  “No, not me. Chris is.” I looked at her innocently and pulled down our box of recipe cards. “I’m going to make him some of Mom’s chicken noodle soup.”

  “Well that’s awfully nice of you,” she said with a sly smile, “but I can think of something else that would make him feel better.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips.

  “Emily! You are so bad!” I laughed, reaching up to the top shelf to grab a hold of th
e heavy stockpot. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to catch his cold, you know.”

  She started to say something, but instead grinned and shook her head. “Of course not.”

  I caught a cab to the studio hotel. It was a Marriott a few streets over from the studio, and I carefully climbed out of the backseat with the heavy sack in my arms. The hotel was enormous; this was where all the out-of-town crew members stayed- even Jake. I hoped I didn’t run into him.

  Instead of calling up, I went to the front desk and asked for Chris’s room number. The clerk gave me a funny look and asked for identification. I showed her my Superstardom ID badge, and she gave me the number and pointed in the direction of the elevator.

  The ride up to the fifth floor was excruciating, and the slow paced elevator music did nothing to help my nerves. Did I really want to do this? Chris had stopped by my place before, and it hadn’t been a big deal. Why should this be any different?

  I paused just outside his door. The jitters in my stomach traveled to my hands, and I gripped the bag tightly and waited for my heartbeat to slow down before knocking.

  I about dropped everything when he answered the door. He wore a pair of red and black flannel pants and no shirt. The pants hung low on his hips, low enough to expose a trail of hair under his bellybutton that disappeared beneath his waistband. I couldn’t keep my eyes from lingering.

  “Allie!” His voice was low and rough. “Come in,” he said, holding the door open for me.

  I peeled my eyes away from his bare flesh long enough to look up into his amused expression. Heat rose in my face, and I had to convince my thick tongue to let me speak. “I heard you weren’t feeling well,” I finally said, stepping past him and into the room. I set the sack on the table, unwrapped my fuzzy green scarf from around my neck, and hung my coat on the back of a wooden chair.

  The suite was nice, a spacious kitchenette and living area and a separate bedroom. Chris disappeared behind a door and came back wearing a black T-shirt.

  “I watched you perform last night. Stella said you’d been sick, and your voice was hoarse and you looked so tired that…” I stopped rambling and rummaged through the bag. “Anyway, I brought chicken noodle soup.”

 

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