After the Rain

by Bruce, Brandy

  Then I heard and felt his deep sigh of relief.

  And I knew, instinctively, that he was all in.

  “And how do you feel about that?” Dr. Clark asked after I’d recounted the story to her at our next session. I didn’t answer. “Debra, remember, this is a safe place to say anything.”

  I bit my lower lip and pulled my legs up under me on the couch, shifting uncomfortably. Then I stood up. “I don’t know. He’s—Ben, I mean—he’s so abrupt with things. After the gig in Boulder, he comes running out and asks me to ride with him—alone—in front of Paige and Milo, like it’s not a big deal! Then he asks me to go hiking when we barely know each other. And he tells me his life story. He’s wide open. And I think he’s that way with everyone; then I’m shocked on the camping trip when Paige had no idea that he had a sister who died. So maybe he’s not that way with everyone. And now this ... in front of a packed bar, he kisses me. We’ve never even been on a date.”

  Dr. Clark took off her glasses and, as usual, began to clean them. “I think the argument could be made that you’ve been on lots of dates. You just didn’t categorize them that way.”

  “Fine, fine!” I agreed with annoyance. “Luke wasn’t like this. If I hadn’t suggested we start dating, he would have taken forever to ask me out. He thinks through every scenario of life before making a move.”

  Dr. Clark nodded. “Some people are like that. Ben seems a bit more impulsive.”

  “You think?” My voice came out high pitched and maddened.

  “Ben is more like you.”

  I didn’t say anything for a moment. “It didn’t matter that Luke was different from me. I loved him anyway. In fact, maybe I liked how intentional and thoughtful he was.”

  Dr. Clark slid those glasses back on and I sat back down. “Do you wish Ben was more like that?”

  I shook my head. “That’s not who Ben is. Well, he is intentional and thoughtful. He’s just—I don’t know. He’s not very guarded.”

  “Why did you kiss him a second time?”

  Why on earth did I do that?

  “I don’t know. He seemed sad. I felt pulled to him. When he kissed me on the stage, it was rushed and unexpected, and I was so shocked that I barely registered that it was happening. I suppose I was curious as to what it would be like to kiss Ben without all those factors.”

  “And what was it like?”

  “Different from Luke.”

  Dr. Clark leaned over her desk. “That’s okay. Let’s take Luke out of this for a moment.”

  I nodded, nibbling on my bottom lip again. After a quiet minute, I spoke up. “Ben is every kind of cool, without even trying. He’s beautiful and nice and people are drawn to him. When he sings, he leaves nothing behind. It’s all out there. And when he kissed me—or, actually, when I kissed him—that’s how it was. He doesn’t hold back.”

  Dr. Clark blew out softly, almost a whistle, and I blushed, slightly embarrassed by my own description.

  “I do like him,” I confessed. “But there’s no way we wouldn’t run into roadblocks. I mean—him and his job and the church, and me and where I am right now.”

  “I think Ben understands that where you are right now may not be where you are six months from now. Where you are at this moment is completely different to where you were a year ago. Things change. Circumstances change. People change. We grow. You’re in transition, Debra. In a lot of ways. Faith included. I want you to give yourself space to figure out where you want to end up. Ben sounds willing to do that as well.”

  “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “Do you feel ready to move on from Luke? We know that he has moved on, but this is about you and your feelings and what you want.”

  I sank farther into the couch cushion and mindlessly ran my fingers over one of the pillows. I thought about going to the zoo with Ben, eating tacos in a parking lot, riding the rapids, and roasting marshmallows under a starry sky. Finding my voice in a karaoke bar, singing one of my favorite songs. Kissing Ben while standing on a cracked sidewalk, in a haze of nearby cigarette smoke, navy-blue mountains in the distance and a stark-white moon.

  This is dangerous. I think I just might be willing to risk my heart again.

  Without speaking, I looked back at Dr. Clark, who sat peering at me, a quizzical look on her face.

  “Maybe kiss him again and see how it goes,” she suggested, and I laughed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sometimes the dreams you came in with aren’t always the dreams you leave with, but they still rock.

  Rock of Ages

  Midmorning Tuesday, during a twelve-in-a-row song session, I pulled up my personal playlist.

  “I want you to hear this guy. He’s local. I’ve heard him in a couple of venues and I’m obsessed.”

  Andy rolled his eyes. “C’mon, please tell me you haven’t found a diamond in the rough for us to discover.”

  I glared at him. “I know good when I hear it. So do you. So stop being grouchy and just listen. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think this guy has incredible talent. I’ve downloaded every song his band plays, and he’s written most of them.”

  Andy acted like I was asking him to climb Pike’s Peak, but he stuck my earbuds into his ears anyway. “He better not be good-looking,” Andy said before pushing play, and I had to fight to keep a straight face. I left him in the studio while I went to grab a bottle of juice from the staff room. After about five minutes, I returned. Andy was still listening but scrolling through text messages on his iPhone.

  He took out the earbuds and dropped them on the table. I sat in my swivel chair and rocked back.

  “Well?”

  He shrugged. “Meh. He’s not bad.”

  At least I tried. I reached for my phone.

  “I mean, he’s okay,” Andy said, emphasis on okay, and acting like he was suddenly the most important judge on a reality talent show or something.

  “All right, thanks for listening.” I pulled up Twitter, then glanced at the clock. “We’re on in two.”

  “What’s his history? Failed label? Newbie?”

  “His band, Twenty-Four Tears, has been together a little over a year. He also leads music at a church.”

  Andy frowned. “Super religious.”

  I gave him a look. “He’s actually really cool. You should hear him live.”

  Andy rubbed his chin. “Not a bad idea. Let me know the next time he’s playing, and we’ll go see him. We’ll take Lana too. She’s very good at sniffing out new talent. Also, she’s desperate for time away from Timmy.”

  I grabbed my headphones and put them on as the producer began counting down on his fingers.

  Andy did the same. “And like I said, he better not be good looking.”

  To my utter frustration, after texting Ben, I learned that Twenty-Four Tears didn’t have anything lined up until late September. Somehow, a miracle truly, I talked Andy into visiting Ben’s church with me the next Sunday morning to hear him sing. I enticed Lana with the fact that they provided free childcare for an hour and a half.

  At the last second, I started to worry about Ben seeing me in the congregation. Remembering how he’d waved to me from the stage that one time, I pursed my lips, then found a pair of glasses I used sometimes for reading. I also grabbed a floppy hat. I figured his church was so casual, no one would care about a girl wearing a floppy hat.

  I glanced in the mirror at myself incognito.

  In the masses of people, I had no doubt he wouldn’t notice me, especially like this. I sent Lana a quick text, telling her to meet me right outside the building, then dashed out to my car, running a tad late, and sped to the church. I was furious at myself for being late, since being late meant possibly missing the music. I ignored the parking lot attendants again, finding a spot as close as possible to the front. Lana had texted that they were going to go in and figure out where to leave Timmy. I ran in just as they were walking, hand in hand, out of the kids’ section.

  “Do we really ha
ve to go to church?” Andy asked, checking his watch. “Timmy’s set for more than an hour. This is freedom. Let’s go have coffee.”

  Lana cocked her head to the side. “Are you in disguise or something?”

  “Or something.” I grabbed Andy’s arm and pulled him to the sanctuary, where the service had already begun. We found seats in the back. It wasn’t the best lineup of songs to showcase Ben’s voice, but it wasn’t bad. Andy and Lana didn’t sing along with the music. I kept stealing glances at Andy, wondering what he was thinking.

  One thing I knew he’d recognize was how good Ben was with a crowd. How he engaged with the audience and how they responded to him.

  After the music ended, we sat back down, and Andy passed me a note written on the church bulletin.

  Lucky he’s not good looking or anything.

  I swallowed a giggle and elbowed him. Once the worship team was off stage, I took off my glasses, which were giving me a headache. I rubbed my eyes.

  “So, as most of you know, Eric’s father passed away last night. He’d been battling cancer for a long time, and the family knew this was coming. He was surrounded by his wife and children as he met Jesus. But because of that, I’m speaking today. Let’s pray for Eric.” I blinked in surprise at seeing Ben onstage again. He perched on a stool.

  Ben is speaking? My pulse raced with nerves; I wasn’t sure why.

  “Is he a preacher too?” Lana leaned across Andy and whispered to me. I shook my head.

  “No, he’s just helping out today. I had no idea.”

  After the prayer, Ben took a breath. Even though we were in the back, I shrank against the seat, hoping he wouldn’t see me.

  “Eric asked me to speak to you about loss. I can’t do that without telling you about Sadie.”

  Then I sat straight up. And I listened, heart pounding, as Ben shared the story of the sister he loved so much. At one point, I saw, out of the corner of my eye, Lana wiping away tears. Ben talked about hope amid hurt. And being real with people and with God. And being brave enough to love with what we have left.

  I could hardly breathe as he said the words again slowly.

  Love with what you have left.

  I was crying too by the end of it.

  At the end, Ben sang. Just Ben. He sang “Amazing Grace” a capella, and before he could finish, nearly every person in the church was standing, hands raised, singing in unison.

  Afterward, Andy and Lana and I walked into the lobby. And by the way Lana was still wiping tears from her eyes and Andy’s jovial manner now seemed pensive, I had a feeling that rather than me introducing them to Ben, Ben had just introduced them to God.

  Milo had caught me in the lobby and said hello while Lana and Andy picked up Timmy. Once we were out on the sidewalk, I squinted at Andy. “What did you think?”

  “It wasn’t what I expected,” Andy said, sliding on his sunglasses.

  “I feel worn out,” Lana told me. “That was such an emotional experience. You’re right, Deb. He’s got an incredible voice. But there’s more to him than that.”

  Oh, I knew it.

  Lana slid her purse strap over her shoulder. “Come to lunch with us, Debra. Let’s talk about it more.”

  I didn’t feel like being alone, but I looked over my shoulder a bit regretfully. Now that I was here, so close to where Ben was, I half-hoped to see him. But I didn’t see Ben in the sea of faces, so I turned back around and agreed to meet Lana and Andy at a nearby Mexican restaurant.

  Fifteen minutes after sitting down in a booth with Andy’s family (Timmy was stationed by me), I understood the reason Andy and Lana were desperate for a break from sweet Timmy. I was sitting on a booth covered in tortilla chip particles, Lana’s water glass had been knocked over, and now Timmy was screeching, begging to play on the iPad, which Lana was frantically digging through her purse to find. When she realized she didn’t have it, she and Andy exchanged a look of horror. The sheet of paper and three crayons the waitress had provided were very insufficient for our situation. Andy quickly downloaded a free game on his phone and passed it over to Timmy, and the three of us heaved a collective sigh of temporary reprieve.

  “Kids are delightful,” Lana assured me, “just not at restaurants. Every time we take Timmy out, we swear we’ll never do it again; then we forget. Then we’re reminded.”

  I nodded with fake understanding. How could you forget?

  Our meal couldn’t arrive fast enough; then we ate like a pack of wolves. And my seat was covered in rice, along with the chips.

  “Andy, can you guys get him on the radio, or what?” Lana asked, taking a breath once she’d finished her plate of enchiladas.

  Andy wiped his mouth, eyeing Timmy, who was back on his phone. “Maybe. I should run it by Mark, but I can most likely talk him into it. We could do one of those things where we play a song and let people call in and say ‘Yea’ or ‘Nay.’”

  “What’s the story with you two?” Lana asked, suspicion lighting her eyes. “He’s really cute . . . for a preacher.”

  Andy glared at me again. I laughed.

  “He’s not a preacher. He just leads the music. And he has a band on the side. Ben and I are just friends.” I coughed and sipped my water, thinking of the kiss outside The Drunken Frog. “I met him through a mutual friend. The next time Twenty-Four Tears plays, we should go. He’s a great performer, and the band treats each other like family.”

  Lana pulled out her phone and started searching for songs to download.

  “Just friends?” Andy raised both eyebrows.

  I flushed and looked down at our very messy table. “I mean, we’ve gone out a couple of times. He’s a nice guy. But he doesn’t even know I invited you today. I don’t want to get his hopes up or anything. Ben is content where he is, but I think he’s got what it takes to take Twenty-Four Tears to the next level.”

  Andy nodded seriously. “You’re probably right. I can see that too. Let’s see what Mark says. If I can get the green light, we’ll highlight one of his songs next week. You choose.”

  “That would be so fantastic, Andy!” I tried not to get too excited. “I’d probably choose ‘Ruin.’ It’s my favorite.”

  “Got it,” Lana said, downloading the song onto her phone. Her eyes widened as Timmy abandoned Andy’s phone and stuck his whole fist into the bowl of salsa. Within seconds, she’d grabbed that little fist with an iron grip and was wiping it clean while Timmy howled. Thankfully, our check came. Andy paid for my meal, ignoring my protest. Then we escaped the restaurant.

  In the parking lot, Andy threw Timmy over his shoulder. Lana and I slowed our step as we walked together.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re dating again,” she said in a soft voice. A regular listener, of course she knew my whole Miss Lonely Heart story.

  “We’re not really dating. I mean, we’ve just hung out a few times. But I do like him,” I admitted. “I’m just a little worried because I’m not sure I can take another bad breakup.”

  Lana stopped and held me back. “Debra, you know, don’t you, how strong you are? I listen to you guys on the radio and hear you holding your own with Andy—not always easy. I see this talented woman who picked herself up and started over in a brand-new state without knowing anyone. You are completely self-sufficient and capable. You’re hilarious on the radio. You’re beautiful and thoughtful. Andy says the studio got lucky the day you showed up.”

  I felt my heart squeeze at that. “Really?”

  Lana nodded and smiled. “He’s right. Whatever you’ve got going with that cute preacher, singer, whatever he is, run with it.”

  The last thing I’d said to Ben that night in Breckenridge was that I needed time to think. Other than texting him about when Twenty-Four Tears played again, we hadn’t been in contact. But I was ready to talk. I had no idea what I wanted to say, but I wanted to talk to Ben Price.

  After lunch Sunday, I put a load of laundry on and then sat on the sofa and texted him.

  NICE SERVICE AT CH
URCH TODAY.

  A minute later, he replied.

  MILO TOLD ME HE SAW YOU. I’M HEADED OVER TO ERIC’S HOUSE, TO BE WITH HIS FAMILY. CAN WE TALK SOON?

  I waited just a second before typing back. MAYBE LUNCH THIS WEEK?

  YES.

  If possible, I wanted to talk to him in person about playing “Ruin” on the radio, once Andy was sure we could. It was a gamble, if we did what Andy suggested and let callers decide whether we’d keep playing the song or not. But it was one I was willing to bet on. I had a feeling listeners would connect with the song. And I’d make a plug for it on my Miss Lonely Heart segment. But by Tuesday, Ben was running ragged and I doubted I’d see him before the following week. Eric needed time off for the funeral and time to grieve, so Ben and the other staff were picking up the slack, handling all the things Eric normally took care of.

  Thursday, Andy met me in the hallway at five fifteen in the morning. We were getting ready to go on the air. He gave me a thumbs-up.

  “Mark said yes. We can play your boy’s song. We’ll do the call-in thing, so fingers crossed people like it. I’d like to do it as soon as possible. Go tell Jake to download the song so we’re ready. And get your guys on the phone so we can get them to sign permissions and stuff.”

  My stomach dropped.

  Oh gosh. I need to tell him. I hope Ben is cool with it.

  I shot Ben a quick text to call me, then ran to the studio room to tell Jake, our music guy, and then was just able to slide into my chair and put my headphones on as we went live.

  I didn’t hear back right away, so I texted Paige too, asking her to give me Bryce’s number. Then I had to set my phone aside because we were back and Andy was talking about our lunch date Sunday, specifically Timmy’s role at the restaurant. We segued into celebrity gossip, which I was pathetically low on, and then went back to music. I grabbed my phone and called Bryce, glad Paige was responding even if Ben wasn’t.