by Jo Noelle
“Tag. You’re it,” Elena said as she dove away from Chase.
When he caught her trying to scramble out of the edge of the pool, his arms wrapped her waist, and she pushed off the side, falling backward, and plunging him under water beneath her. When they came up in each other’s arms, Chase congratulated himself for the date choice.
There were surprisingly few people at the waterfalls that day as they moved down the mountain. At the next one, Chase cannonballed into the water, and Elena did the same, sparking a contest with some teenagers there. They played games of follow the leader and a tried to create whirlpools under the next two waterfalls. At the last pool, they rented a double inner tube and floated back to the parking lot. They stowed their stuff and drove back to town.
Chase wanted to spend more time with Elena. He’d had more fun with her than he’d had in years. He knew she was different. The date he’d asked for was technically over. She had a business to run. Would it be insensitive to ask her to extend their time together today? She seemed like the kind of girl to speak her mind. If she couldn’t, she’d just say no. Then he’d ask her out again.
He thought she’d enjoyed the day, too. There was a chance, though she had fun, that she wasn’t interested in him. Why didn’t asking someone out ever get easier? He steeled himself and tried.
“I saw a great restaurant a block over on Main called Florabunda. We could catch a late lunch.” He looked down at his clothes. “We’d probably need to eat on the patio away from everyone else.” The smile he saw on her face gave him courage to continue. She hadn’t said no yet, so go for the gold. “Then we could clean up and go into the city, if you have time tonight.”
“I’d like that,” Elena said.
He gave a mental fist pump. That bought him at least a couple more hours with her.
Chase parked in the lot, then they walked in to put their name on the list.
Yes! That might have been the best first date he’d ever been on. Not only was the swimming great—he didn’t want to think about the hiking part—but she was willing to add on some more time with him, enough for a drive down to Denver.
“It will be a few minutes before your table is ready.” The hostess handed Elena the buzzer.
Chase threaded his fingers with Elena’s and led her out the side door into the garden. Plants in various stages of maturity grew in rows and mounds, each marked with a sign stating their name under a picture of the blossom and a description of the flavor.
Between moving from plant to plant, Elena asked, “Tell me about your family? Do you have brothers or sisters?”
“Yes, both, and I’m right in the middle of the pack.” Chase pulled her over to sit in one of the alcoves along the edges. That seemed like a good place to have the private conversation he’d been thinking about. He needed her to know what it might be like having a relationship with him before they ever got that far. It was a lot to ask of anyone to be in front of cameras whether or not she wanted to be. “I have an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister. We grew up on a working farm, and we all like music.”
Elena stiffened. “How much do you all like music?” Her question didn’t sound casual to Chase, and he wondered what set her on edge about it. She waited for his answer, but she’d stiffened a little and a furrow formed between her eyebrows.
“Well, we grew up in a music store. I’d say we all ended out liking it a lot.”
“Okay. That kind of liking music is fine.” She sounded relieved, and her shoulders relaxed. “I’m just not getting involved with people who are trying to make money at it. You’re all right, Dermott.”
At the same time Chase’s hope soared at the word “involved,” his heart crushed. He did make money at it. A lot, in fact. Millions piled up when that many people were downloading their songs. It seemed to him that his was a good time to tell her. If he was going to lose her over being in the band, he wanted to do that now before they were both all in. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what might be a rejection. “When I was in college, I . . .”
At that moment, the restaurant pager in Elena’s hand flashed and began to buzz. A sharp sting scorched into Chase’s chin. He lifted his hand to the area and felt a swell rising. What in the world?
“Our turn,” she said and stood, looking at the flashing lights around the pager.
When Chase stood, his jaw was on fire, and his lips and cheek were becoming numb. And he was dizzy. He swayed and reached for Elena to keep from falling. This time when he touched his cheek, the lump was twice the size that it was a moment ago, filling his palm.
Elena took one look at him and tossed the pager to the hostess, jostling him out the front door. “Where are your keys?” Her hand slid into his front pocket, and she pulled them out without waiting for his reply.
Chase wasn’t sure he could speak anyway. His airway was thick and tight. Panic seized him when he realized that he was going to stop breathing.
Elena pushed the fob to unlocked the door, and shoved Chase into the passenger seat, strapping him in. “The hospital is on the other side of town, but there’s an urgent care clinic in the next block.” As they drove, her hands strangled the wheel at ten and two, and she looked more than a little worried.
Chase felt it too. He gasped for air, trying to stretch his neck and open his mouth wide. Nothing seemed to help. He laid his seat back. More effort and less air.
The car screeched to a stop under the portico at the front doors in the red painted curb. Chase wanted to fling himself inside, but couldn’t. He tumbled out the door and leaned heavily on Elena as she walked him into the office, yelling, “Bee sting—help. Now. He’s having trouble breathing.”
Two people came running, pushed Chase into a wheelchair, and took him from her. “I’m his wife. Can I come with him?” she said. They must have agreed because she followed them through the security doors.
Chase was heaved onto an exam table, and the nurse jabbed a needle through his jeans. Although he knew it should have hurt, he could hardly think around his desperate desire to breathe. At the same time, more nurses converged, yanking his shirt off over his head, placing an IV in the back of his hand, sticking leads to his chest, and snapping a pulse-ox on his finger. He could finally breathe. It wasn’t normal, but it was all he could think about. He closed his eyes and felt his chest rise and fall, stuttering at times, but full of sweet oxygen.
They must have decided that he wasn’t going to die immediately, because they cleared the room. Elena stepped up to his shoulder and placed her hand on his head. The monitor above him beeped regularly.
“Hey,” he said. His eyes rolled a little and didn’t quite focus.
“You’re doing great.” “Were you here for all of that?”
“Yeah. Your wife doesn’t get scared at the sight of a few needles.”
“Thanks for staying with me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m going to take a raincheck on that dinner and the trip to Denver though. Near-death doesn’t get you out of a dating contract duly accepted.”
Chase laughed weakly, and replied, “I like your sense of duty.” And he was liking her more every minute.
Several Benadryl shots, claustrophobia inducing oxygen masks, and two hours later, Elena drove him home, hives and all.
“Where do you live?”
“613 Elk Ridge Drive.”
Elena stared at him for a long moment, then turned on the car. Of course, she knew the neighborhood. Maybe she’d think that the ranch or the music store did really well. He couldn’t have a conversation about the band right then. He needed a clear head.
Chase had been resting his head on the back of the seat with his eyes closed when he heard a little gasp before Elena parked in his driveway. He heard a low whistle, and then Elena said, “Nice house.”
He didn’t remember answering her or even hearing her get out. When she open his door and helped him to his feet, his lips and tongue felt like marshmallows, and his head was gro
ggy. He leaned on her, and miraculously they made it to the house. She propped him against the side and opened his front door. He was more drugged that he thought.
This might have been his best date worst date ever. At least, it was memorable. Elena learned two things about him that no one, including himself, had known before. He was terrified of heights and allergic to bees. And she was still there. Somehow his heart had known it the first time he saw her, and every minute they were together convinced him more, she was just right for him.
“About now, I’d be thinking of kissing you, but I won’t ’cause I’d like to feel it when I do that.” He staggered a little to the side. “And not slobber on you.”
“Yeah, and I’d like you to remember it when you do.” Elena guided him to the couch.
His foggy brain registered another yes from Elena—this time to kissing. “Not to brag or anything, but I think this might have been the worst first date you’ve ever had. Any chance you’ll let me make it up to you? I’d hate you to think I’m a high-maintenance pretend husband. I might be, but I’d hate you to think it.”
Elena tucked some pillows behind him, and her cheeks blushed slightly. “As far as imaginary husbands go, you might still be my favorite. I’ll give you another chance—in fact, I can’t really leave you unsupervised for a few more hours. So now’s good.” She set the pharmacy bag on the table. “You up for a little binge TV?” She didn’t wait for an answer and found a travel show about antiques.
***
A week later, Chase drove Elena to Denver for an estate sale. He’d noticed how she had commented on the furnishings and antiques in the shows they’d watched. He’d really been out of it, but on the odd moments when he could open his eyes, she had moved on to watching renovation shows. He hadn’t seen her in the days since the bee sting. This was something he thought she’d like—he hoped it showed her that he appreciated her.
“Are you going to tell me the big surprise?” Elena asked.
“No, but I bet you’ll recognize it before we even get there.”
As they entered the historic district, Elena changed. “This whole neighborhood has rocking chair porches.” She pointed at a light blue home. “Look at that entryway and all the leaded glass. The circular shingle siding is adorable. I love the large pillars and the rolled scroll detailing near the cap too.” Then her head turned to the look out the driver-side window. “That house is amazing. The fresh-air design is so tellingly Victorian, isn’t it?” Excitedly, she grabbed his shoulder and squeezed. “They even built a sleeping porch on the top floor.” Her head swung with each new discovery. “Every level of that house has red cornice trim.”
Chase listened to every word. He looked where she pointed whenever it didn’t endanger their lives for him to not pay attention to driving, but he did it to try to see what she saw and to feel the passion in her voice and expression for the homes they passed.
He turned the last corner, giving her a new set of homes to admire. He’d taken the most scenic route to their destination. There was another street that would have brought them to the same location, but it was strewn with warehouses and empty lots. He wasn’t disappointed by her reaction.
“There are probably ten different types of scroll-sawn balustrades on this street alone. The Victorians didn’t like things that were hand-made. They wanted to show off how modern and industrialized they were, and machine-made was all the rage, like that gingerbread scrolling on that house.” She slapped his shoulder excitedly as she giggled. “I love it.”
He could hardly wait to hear what she had to say about the Victorian home they were visiting. He pulled up in front of a turn-of-the-century masterpiece. The large craftsman-style bungalow sat on a lot that had been built up above the street level. This one boasted ornate brickwork and a wraparound porch.
For a moment, Elena was speechless. Chase could see her head and eyes moving, taking in so many details and finally settling on the sign out front—Estate Sale Today.
“We’re going in?” she asked.
Chase nodded, and Elena jumped out of the car and waited impatiently on the sidewalk for him.
“We’re a little early.” Chase checked the time as they walked up the flagstone steps to the entry.
Elena made a slow circle. “Even the landscape has been preserved and period true. It’s such a glorious hodgepodge. They wanted to bring everything beautiful into their homes. One treasure here and another there.”
Soon a car pulled up and the salespeople unlocked the door. Chase and Elena followed right behind them, signed the register, and donned white paper booties to preserve the antique carpets while they searched for treasure.
“Those are so amazing,” Elena hissed in his ear. He turned to see her gesturing above the bedroom door. “Transom windows.” Her voice was soft but slightly shrill, oozing with excitement, matching the gleam in her eyes. “Over my shoulder.” She grabbed his arm. “Don’t look yet.” She glanced around.
Chase tried to be stealthy, but really, there were only a few people in the whole house, so he didn’t know why she was being sneaky. “You mean the sunroom?”
She leaned toward his ear. “There’s a full set of Stickley furniture in there—bookcases, sideboard, table, and several chairs. And a rocker! That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar room.”
Chase peeked in and saw a lot of leather and wood. She pulled him away, but he stopped. “Let’s sit on it.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“Come on. It looks comfortable, and I need furniture for my guest rooms.”
She smirked and rolled her eyes at him, but followed him inside anyway. When he plopped onto the rocking chair, she gasped audibly.
“It’s just a chair. Sit.” Chase pointed to the seat to his right. “And it’s all for sale too.”
“Never say just for this chair.”
A saleswoman in a gray suit walked through the door. “Is there anything you’re interested in?” She looked at Chase and the holes in his jeans and didn’t keep the judgment off her face.
“I don’t know. May I have your card?” he asked.
They wandered through the rest of the house. He loved watching Elena’s passion as she described the history of objects by their shape and colors. Once she tipped a table lamp over a bit, checking the bottom for maker marks, then put it back down. “It’s a fake, but pretty.”
Chase checked this watch. “Do you want to catch dinner before we head back to Peak City? There’s a new gastropub on the edge of the 16th Street Mall.”
As soon as they were seated, Chase saw his mistake. It was open mic night, and their table was near the front. A band was setting up and the guitarist spotted him, his mouth forming an ‘O’. He jumped from the stage, walked toward them. Think. How am I going to get out of this? A cold chill raced through him. He knew he had to tell Elena that he was part of a band, but this wasn’t how he wanted that to happen. He admitted to himself that he’d procrastinated because of the reaction he’d see from her. Now, he was going to lose her before he had a chance to really get to know her.
Elena pushed her purse toward Chase. “Ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
He watched her cut in front of the guy headed their way. Saved.
“Dude! You’re Chase Dermott.”
“Shh. Sit down.” Chase looked over his shoulder to make sure Elena really was gone. “How’s it going?” He sounded nervous even to himself.
“You’ve got to play with us. We could do one of your songs.”
Chase shook his head. “I’m on a date here.”
“Dude, she’d love it.”
Chase didn’t think so, but the smile on the guy’s face as he continually nodded told Chase that he didn’t think this guy was going to stop until he said yes. And that had to be before Elena got back. “I’ll play one song, but only if you don’t introduce me.”
“I don’t need to introduce you.” The guy was so pumped he’d started to talk loud. “Everyone knows you, man.”
> “Shh. No. You know who I am because you play guitar too, but most people only know lead singers. If you have to call me something, just call me Chase.”
“Max,” he said, extending his hand.
Elena returned to the table and sat between them. She must have heard some of that because she said, “You’re going to play? Are you any good?”
Max’s jaw slacked, and his eyes grew round. Then he kind of smiled at her, then looked back at Chase, his eyes squinting with an unspoken question behind them.
Chase tried to shrug off Max’s request again. “I don’t have a guitar. Maybe next time.”
“I’ve got a spare.”
That’s what Chase thought—the guy wasn’t going to quit.
Elena jumped in. “Yes. Play a song.” Her hands wrapped around his arm, and she leaned in excitedly.
“Okay. I’ll pay for her.” He was surprised by Elena’s reaction. If she liked music and even encouraged him to play, then her aversion must be just toward being in a band. Chase knew that was bad for him. Their band may have started playing in small western bars, but recently they were consistently at the top the country charts and touring on their own, not as just an opening act. Several songs on their latest release had hit number one.
Back toward Max, he said, “We’ll play one together when you’re done, then I have something new I’m working on—solo. Is that cool?”
Max nodded and left. When he got back on stage, he told his bandmates who all looked at Chase. Elena and Chase ate and listened to the band play a few numbers, before Chase joined them.
After the first song they did together, the band moved off the stage, and Chase pulled a chair to the middle. The piece started off slowly in B minor, moving up, then down the neck as the scale unraveled. A rotation of notes took over the melody while Chase imagined the chords behind the notes. This is how it started—loving the sounds, playing for friends in small rooms.