After the Rain

by Bruce, Brandy

  “Take a seat anywhere,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Let’s get a seat near the stage,” Jason said, leading the way through the maze of tables. Before I could remind him that it was karaoke night, not exactly an established band, and that things could get loud and crazy and did we need to be right up front? he’d chosen a table and Paige was sitting down.

  Only a few other tables were taken, but a steady stream of customers were coming in. We looked at menus and ordered drinks while waiting for Ben. The chatter in the room grew as minutes ticked by. I saw Paige sit straight and wave toward the door, and I turned, knowing it had to be Ben.

  Sure enough. He looked showered and as animated as ever. That dark hair was styled back in waves. He had on loose jeans and a red T-shirt; I didn’t recognize the band on the front. The stubble on his face was reaching the level of a beard, and somehow it just made him more attractive. Ben waved back at Paige, then stopped at the bar, slapping hands with the bartender, who must have been a friend of his. Paige looked back down at her menu and Jason pointed something out to her. I sneaked another look at Ben at the bar. One of the waitresses stopped and hugged him, saying something that made him laugh.

  All the questions that had been jumbled in my mind at the campsite came back.

  If I were in a different space of mind—not a girl who’d been wildly in love with someone else eight months ago—what would my reaction to Ben look like?

  He bumped fists with the bartender and headed in our direction, pausing as he caught me staring at him. Flustered, I dropped my menu, then picked it up and pretended to study it scrupulously.

  What’s wrong with you? You’re nervous. You’ve been around Ben a bunch of times ... and now you’re nervous? No. Get over it.

  Ben sat down next to me. “Hey, everybody. Sorry it took so long to get here. They needed more help over at River Run, so I had to stay longer.”

  “Totally fine,” Paige said.

  “What are you drinking?” Ben asked me with a smile, taking the menu from my hands. I looked at my drink.

  “Um, something fruity with a little kick. Paige ordered our drinks.”

  “Mind if I taste?” he asked, reaching over.

  I managed a nod and watched Ben Price take a sip of my peach fusion. He pushed the drink back my way, an amused look in his eyes.

  “What do you think?”

  “I like it,” he told me.

  But do you like me? Do I like you? What’s happening between us?

  “What’s good here?” Jason asked Ben.

  “Steak tenders and onion rings—the batter is from scratch and it’s stellar. The crab cakes are excellent. The only thing I don’t recommend is the clam chowder. Too salty.”

  The waitress appeared at our table and we all ordered.

  “Did you used to come here a lot?” Paige handed Jason her phone and jumped up to squeeze next to me. “Take a picture of me and Debra, please.” Jason obliged, and Paige and I leaned in together and smiled; then she insisted on taking one of me and Jason.

  Before anyone could suggest a picture of me and Ben, he started talking. “Yeah, I came here all the time when I lived in Breck. It’s a popular hangout for locals.”

  Jason wanted to relive our rafting adventure, so we started talking about the water, and the raft flipping on its side, and the jump, and how much fun we’d all had. Our meal arrived and Ben was right—the crab cakes were delectable and I kept stealing onion rings from Jason until he ordered another basketful. We were all laughing over Paige’s hilarious version of going down the river with Emmie’s team (which included Paige being pitched from the back row to the front, with her bottom in the air, at one point during a vicious set of rapids) when a guy jumped up on stage and grabbed the microphone.

  “Hello! Welcome to The Drunken Frog. It’s karaoke night if you didn’t know.” He paused and the whole café burst into applause. “I hope you’re ready to flashback to the nineties”—more cheering—“and on top of the rad night we’re about to have, we’ve got a local boy back home tonight.” The guy pointed to Ben. “Ben Price, get up here. You’re going to get this party started!”

  “Oh, man,” Ben muttered. Paige whistled and I started to clap.

  “You’ve got to do it,” Jason said with a chuckle.

  Ben looked at me and I winked. “Bring down the house.”

  He just stared at me for a moment, then took a sip of water and stood up to the raucous applause of the crowd. Ben grabbed the microphone and waited for the music, his eyes on the screen where the lyrics were about to appear. An old Counting Crows song came on and everyone in the building, myself included, knew the words by heart. I could see Ben coming alive, reacting to the energy of the people.

  And he killed it.

  Slam dunk.

  I watched him on stage—no band, no guitar, no Karis for backup—just Ben up there, singing karaoke. His hands on the mic, his voice filling the room. I watched his every rhythmic move. Again he stomped his foot in time to the beat. He hit every note and made the song his own.

  “The guy’s a rock star.” Jason drew close so I could hear him. I took a drink from my water glass; my peach fusion had been finished long ago.

  “He could be,” I answered, my voice low, but Jason heard. He put his arm on the back of my chair.

  “You told me his original music is really good. Maybe you should try to get him on the radio.” He broached the topic again.

  “It’s not that easy,” I pushed back. “But ... you’re right. He belongs on the radio.”

  The song ended and the crowd cheered as Ben came off stage. Someone else jumped up to sing. Ben took his seat on the other side of me. Paige and Jason praised him. Then he looked at me, eyebrows up.

  “Not bad,” I said with a barely suppressed smile.

  He dipped his chin. “Thanks.”

  Knowing we had a long drive back, I ordered a coffee, and after two songs—one that was painfully off key—Jason nudged my shoulder before taking a bite of an onion ring.

  “Go on, Deb. You love karaoke.”

  I shot daggers at him through my eyes but he shrugged.

  “Correction: I used to love karaoke.”

  “C’mon, Deb!” Paige added to the ridiculousness of this moment.

  I glanced at my phone. “Don’t you think we should get going soon? It’s such a long drive back.”

  “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to, Debra.” Ben touched the table in front of me. I set down my phone. “But if you do want to, I’ll sing with you.”

  The sound of someone destroying a high note squeaked through the mic at that moment and I winced. Ben grinned and leaned closer. He whispered in my ear, “What’s your favorite nineties song?”

  “It’s kind of cheesy,” I said. “You probably don’t know it.” I whispered the title to him.

  Are you seriously thinking of doing this? You haven’t sung in months. You haven’t warmed up. This could be one of the most embarrassing moments of your life.

  But I was right next to Ben, looking at those light brown eyes, and suddenly feeling so close to something. I wasn’t sure what.

  Who cares if you’re embarrassed? You don’t know anyone here. Why not?

  That used to be my motto.

  Why not tell Luke how I felt? Who knows what might happen? Take a chance and see. You’ll never know until you try.

  And look where that had gotten me.

  What are you afraid of, Miss Lonely Heart?

  Ben sat back, waiting. Jason touched my shoulder.

  “I know you can do this, Debra. I’ve heard you sing karaoke a million times.”

  That small reminder that he knew me. I felt a little bit braver.

  Jason placed his finger under my chin and gently lifted my face to look at him. “I want to be here when you get your voice back,” he said. I looked at him and another moment flashed in my memory. Me and Jason at the airport the morning after the breakup. His hands cupping my face,
promising I would be okay. That there would be more for me than Luke. Standing on the curb in front of Bush Intercontinental Airport, I’d been crying too hard to listen.

  Ben stood up and I saw him walk over to the deejay. And then he moved to the stage, and the crowd started to clap. He perched on a barstool and just watched me. I knew he’d sing it for me if I couldn’t do it.

  On wobbly legs, I stood up and walked to the stage. His eyes followed me; then he reached down for my hand and pulled me up. He gave me his barstool and pulled up a second one, grabbing another microphone from the floor. And the music started. The crowd quieted.

  The music began to play. Alison Krauss’s nineties version of “When You Say Nothing at All.” I closed my eyes; my quaking hands held the mic; I opened my mouth and sang. About halfway through, my voice faltered. But there was Ben, picking up the slack and keeping us going.

  And when the last, shaky note was drawn from me, I gulped for breath. The room broke out into applause. Jason stood up, clapping, his eyes shining. I looked sideways at Ben.

  The astonished look in his eyes sent a shudder through me. I pushed away the microphone and raised myself up. Ben set down the mic he’d held, stood up, reached for my hand ...

  And then he kissed me in front of every person at The Drunken Frog.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Life and love go on, let the music play.

  Johnny Cash

  Do you want to tell me what you’re feeling right now?” Jason asked calmly.

  “No,” I told him.

  We were an hour outside Breckenridge. With Jason at the wheel, I’d curled up as tightly as I could in the passenger seat, nearly plastering myself to the door, my head resting on the window. Paige was in the backseat, either asleep or pretending to be asleep. I couldn’t know for sure.

  “I’ll talk, then. So ... I think Ben likes you,” Jason said in a light voice. I covered my ears. “I just want to know if you like him.”

  I sighed loudly, trying to communicate extreme exasperation.

  “I like him,” Jason continued, and a glimmer of a smile worked its way to my lips. I rested my head back on the seat. “But that’s just me,” Jason went on. “He seems like a cool guy. I think Addi and Lily and Sam would like him too.”

  I faced the window again and touched the cold pane. I couldn’t see the mountains this time. Just the darkness. “Of course I like him, Jase. He’s sweet and fun and I could listen to him sing all day long. But I’m not interested in dating right now. I don’t know when I’ll be ready for that. There’s no way I’m ready to chance another heartache. Plus ...” My heart hurt. The cold from the window seeped into my hand. “Plus, Luke is still in me. I wake up thinking about him sometimes. Not as much as I used to. But when I found out they were engaged—” My throat tightened as I thought of that night.

  Jason didn’t respond for a while and the curving road began to make me sleepy. The last thing I heard him say was “Luke is your past, Debra. I think your future just might rock your whole world.”

  I cried when Jason left. I’d gone into work the next morning after just a couple hours’ sleep, feeling like a zombie. Then I’d driven Jason to the airport right after lunch. I’d hugged him, bawling, and he’d tried to console me, promising he’d come back again. I drove back home, crawled into my bed, and slept until nightfall. I woke up to the feeling of my stomach rumbling, then shuffled to the kitchen for something fast and easy. When I opened the fridge, I blinked in surprise at a ready-made casserole.

  Jason.

  He must have made it for me while I was at work that morning. Thankful, I reached for it, dished out at least two portions, and heated my meal in the microwave. With a steaming plate of chicken-and-rice casserole, I sat on the sofa and turned on the TV. The Sound of Music was on The Movie Channel, and thrilled, I settled in to watch Maria fall in love with Captain von Trapp. From the coffee table, my phone dinged and I reached for it. Jason’s name popped up.

  MADE IT HOME. BEST WEEKEND EVER.

  I smiled and typed my reply.

  MOVE HERE.

  He sent me a string of laughing emojis.

  AND THANK YOU FOR DINNER. DELICIOUS.

  A second later, another text came through.

  YOU’RE WELCOME. AND IF YOU DIDN’T SEE, I LEFT SOMETHING ON YOUR NIGHTSTAND. BEN ASKED ME TO GIVE IT TO YOU.

  A second surprise. I set my empty plate on the coffee table and ran to my bedroom (all of about six steps away). A large envelope sat on the nightstand. I slid my hand inside and pulled out the contents.

  The photo from our rafting day, of me diving into the river. I looked at the dark color of the water, the bright turquoise blue of the sky, the large gray flat rock—and me, in flight.

  Thoughts of the trip inevitably turned to Ben, to what happened after.

  I’d stood, frozen as a log in winter, after he’d kissed me. He’d looked a bit startled himself. Every corner of the small café had erupted in an ovation at that kiss. I’d blinked, stunned, too numb to feel anything at first. Then I’d blinked again and Ben came into focus. The room was too loud to hear much, but he’d leaned close to my ear and said, “I meant it.” Then he’d taken my hand, maybe knowing I was basically catatonic, and led me off the stage. Paige was clapping, eyes as round as dinner plates, and Jason had looked too shocked to react.

  Then someone else was up on stage singing “Losin’ My Religion,” and Ben led me through the café, out onto the front sidewalk. A few paces away, a couple of people were smoking cigarettes on a bench. In the evening light, I could see a red glow after every few moments.

  Then I found my voice all right. “What was that?” I snapped, a swirl of mixed feelings rushing through me.

  Ben folded his arms. “It was just automatic. It’s not like I planned it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. ‘You feel something and you go with it.’ I remember. That’s not okay when it comes to kissing me in front of a room full of people.”

  He’d pressed his lips into a thin line, then exhaled. “Maybe the timing wasn’t right. But I’m okay with people knowing how I feel about you.”

  “I—you—what—” I just kept sputtering, trying to find something coherent to say. “How you feel about me? You could’ve just said something. You know that, right? We hang out all the time. You could have told me how you feel. Then maybe I wouldn’t be caught off guard when you kiss me in front of one of my closest friends. Two of them, come to think of it.”

  He’d frowned at that. “What does it matter that I kissed you in front of Jason and Paige? I knew it.” He stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. “I knew you liked Jason.”

  “No.” At that point, I was losing steam and needing us to get back to the heart of the argument. “Jason and I are just friends. It’s—you should have said something before.”

  “How could you not have known?” He’d raised his hands, palms up. “I ask you to do stuff with me all the time.”

  “Yeah, but ... I thought you were just being nice. You’re—you’re nice to everyone, Ben. You’re a worship pastor, for goodness’ sake. I’m a girl who feels uncomfortable sitting in church.”

  He’d crossed his arms again, head down.

  “You said you wanted to be my friend,” I had reminded him, trying not to sound accusatory, but it didn’t work.

  “I did say that,” he agreed. “And I do. If that’s all you want, we can just be friends.”

  Not likely. Not when he’d just kissed me after drawing the music back out of me.

  “I can’t—I mean, it’s too soon. I’m not ready to even think about, you know, dating or anything.”

  “Too soon?” His brow furrowed and his voice rose a notch.

  I felt prickles on my neck, my guard jumping up. “It’s not just about Luke. My whole life has changed. I changed. I started over when I moved out here. You didn’t know me before; you don’t know how different things are for me. My hair is short! I still barely recognize myself in the mirror.” Emo
tion started rising in my throat. “I was this other person—happy and outgoing and ready to start my life with Luke. Busy all the time, hardly ever alone. I’d stand on the platform and sing at church on Sundays, not struggling with doubt. Now ... I don’t know anything. My faith felt good back then. Singing to peppy songs, surrounded by fog and lights, swaying to the sound of the drums. But you know what? That peppy religion was like the smoke and colored lights ... ridiculous. It didn’t really mean anything.”

  “You say you’re different. That’s okay. You struggle with faith now. A lot of us do. You’re trying to find yourself—but I already see you.”

  All that emotion started to choke me.

  “No one sees me.” I could only whisper the words.

  Ben’s face smoothed and he stepped closer. He put both of his hands on my shoulders. “I do.”

  “But Luke—”

  Ben stepped back and gritted his teeth. “I wish I could get that guy out of your head!”

  My breath stopped for a moment.

  I wish that too.

  To see calm and easygoing Ben lose his cool—my heart started pounding, this time from desire, not so much anger. To see passion evoked in him, because of me … Without warning, I took a step closer to him.

  “Ben.”

  He looked up at me, still annoyed but a hint of hope in his eyes, handsome and kind and more than a little frustrated at that moment. I touched his face, and all the fight in me drained away. Then I kissed him back.

  This time, I absorbed the moment, feeling his lips—warm and soft—against mine. Not since Luke had I connected with someone like this, and with Luke, I’d been all in from the first kiss. I wasn’t that girl anymore. But even with my hesitation, I let myself tap into this experience of linking part of myself with Ben. I could feel the scruffiness of his beard beneath my fingers, taste the remnants of whatever it was he’d been drinking, sense the pounding of his heart closing in closer to mine. Ben was frozen in surprise for all of two seconds, then his arms wrapped around me and he kissed me—gentle but with enough urgency to jump-start my heart rate. I relaxed in his arms.