A Song of Life: A Fictional Memoir (Song for You Book 2)

by Megan Rivers

  My eyes widened and I turned on my heels. Galvin had my fifth grade diary in his lap and a yellowed sheet of notebook paper in his hand. “Give it here!” I demanded and grabbed for the sheet of paper but he moved too quickly. He sprung up from the floor with a smile on his face and kept the paper out of my reach.

  He continued to recite, more dramatically this time, “DiCaprio, DiCaprio, do you know I think you’re dynamico?”

  I snatched the sheet of paper from his hands and put it back in the pink, heart shaped diary and locked it. “Dynamico?” he said, with an incredulous face.

  My eyes narrowed, hands on my hips. He batted his eyes, pouted his lips and asked, “Do you think I’m dynamico too?”

  He looked so ridiculous that I had to pierce my lips to keep from smiling. “I was ten years old.”

  “I think you’re dynamico.”

  I rolled my eyes and hoped this story wasn't relayed to Meadow or I would never live it down. “Drop it.”

  “Oh, not a chance,” he smiled, devilishly. I knew that this wasn’t the last I would hear of my poor rhyming and lack of poetic skills.

  When Galvin and I had packed the two small boxes into Ribbit, we walked back upstairs for one last glance. Galvin made his way to the bathroom and I heard a horn honk outside.

  I opened the blinds, and it was weird not to climb over the love seat to have to do it. I looked down and saw Meadow’s car, still parked in front of the building, covered in at least an inch of snow.

  The apartment was empty now. It was uncomfortable seeing it so naked and vulnerable. I sat on the floor, against the wall, and watched the snow fall from the gray clouds in the sky. Galvin turned the corner and sat down next to me, his hand finding mine.

  We didn’t say anything, but I felt him watching me, expectantly. “How did you feel when you left your home?” I asked him. I was having mixed feelings about leaving this place that I didn't expect to have.

  “I really don’t remember. After my mom died, I spent a lot of time at my uncle’s house. Then, when Dad was in the hospital, I lived with them all the time. I don’t remember exactly when the house stopped becoming home.

  “I do remember that when he died―I had not turned twelve yet―my uncle and I went to the house, but it did not feel like home. It was like the home of a relative I did not like visiting. My uncle packed a few things that he knew Dad would want me to have one day. The whole time I sat on the couch, staring out the window at the wind moving through the trees. I wanted to go back to the home I knew and get out of that dark, unwelcoming place.”

  I watched him as he spoke. I could tell it was something he hadn’t thought about in a long time because he kept glancing up at the ceiling, trying to remember that day, many years ago. I put my head on his shoulder.

  I nodded towards the front door, pointing to it. “I came through that door every day after school and sat at a tiny little table in the kitchen every afternoon to do my homework.” I could visualize myself sauntering through the door, throwing my book bag on the counter and tossing the mail onto the coffee table. “I would grab oyster crackers from the top shelf of that cabinet, pull my water bottle out of the fridge, sit down and begin my homework.” I smiled and faced Galvin. “I did that every day until Mom came home and then she would say, ‘Take a break and come talk with me.’ And we would plop down on the couch and watch the news if we didn’t have anything to say.” My eyes slowly washed over the tiny apartment. I didn’t expect leaving it would be so difficult.

  Galvin intertwined my fingers with his, in his lap. “You’ll have many more memories now. I think you have to say good bye to some happy thoughts to gain more of them.”

  A smile grew across my lips. I turned to face him and he looked straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought. I grabbed his chin and made him face me and kissed him on the lips. “I love you,” I said as we parted. It was the first time I said it to him, face-to-face.

  His hand stroked my cheek. “I love hearing those words out of your mouth,” he said.

  I heard honking outside again and broke through the moment to take a look. “Some idiot double parked next to Ribbit and now the bus can’t get through.” I sighed and shrugged passively. “I suppose it’s time for us to go anyway.” Chills shook me as the cold crept through the window and I turned to look at Galvin, “It’s getting worse outside, we should head home so we don’t get caught in too much traffic.”

  The building layers of snow lit up the room through the window, more brightly than when we first arrived. Galvin gave me a larger than life smile as he stood.

  “What?” My hand went instinctively to my head, thinking he was smiling at the way my hair came out of my hood, or that maybe I had snot hanging out of my nose.

  He started to sing, “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled. Baby, it’s Cold Outside is his favorite Christmas song and I could hear the melody that came after his words. Since it was the season, I would sometimes catch him humming it after I picked up his phone call, before I said hello.

  “We really have to go.” I decided to put my own spin on the lyrics.

  “But baby it’s cold outside.” He smiled, knowing I was playing along.

  “Galvin, the answer is no.” I said with an even wider smile.

  He took a step closer to me and sheepishly said, “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

  I eyed him carefully, wondering how far he would go and said the next line to find out. “Your welcome has been―“

  “How lucky that you dropped in,” he sang and held out his hand for mine with a subtle wink.

  I gave my hand to him and he held it in his right hand while putting his left hand around my waist. “You’re so nice and warm.”

  Turning my head to face the snow covered window, Galvin put his mouth to my ear and softly sang, “Look out the window at that storm.”

  I closed my eyes and felt his breath dance around my ear. It released a violent storm of goosebumps. “Meadow will be suspicious.”

  He took his right hand traced my lips with his finger. “Gosh your lips look delicious.”

  “Kevin will be there at the door.”

  He took my hand and started dancing again. “Waves upon the tropical shore.”

  “You know, my mother’s mind is vicious.”

  He pressed his lips against mine and smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Gosh your lips are delicious.”

  I shrugged, giving in. “Okay, maybe just one minute more.”

  I tucked my head into the crook of his neck and felt the tickle of his throat as he sang, “Never such a blizzard before.”

  Moments later, I pulled myself from him and I declared, seriously, “We’ve got to go home.”

  Quite theatrically, Galvin grabbed my hand and spun me around. He raised his eyebrows and pulled me close to him. “But, baby, you’d freeze out there.”

  Sighing I crossed my arms as his hands found his way around my waist again. I started it, so I mind as well should finish it. “Will you lend me a coat?”

  He shook his head side-to-side with a sly smile. “It’s up to your knees out there.”

  “Galvin, this time has been grand―”

  He pulled me back into a dance and we spun around the living room while he sang, “I thrill when you touch my hand.”

  “But don’t you see?”

  We stopped spinning and, with a pouting face, he continued to sing, “How can you do this thing to me?”

  “There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” I stated, trying not to smile.

  He put a hand to his heart. “Think of my lifelong sorrow.”

  “You know there will be plenty implied―”

  “If you caught pneumonia and died.” His voice spun a spell around me. The timbre of his voice settled like a net over me.

  I wrapped my arms around him and put my head on his chest. We swayed in silence for several minutes until I said, “We really can’t stay.” My words were muffled through his jacket.
>
  “I know,” he whispered. I looked up to him, his finger ran from my forehead, down my nose and tripped over my lips. He sang the last five words in seven long, delicate syllables, “But baby, it’s cold outside.”

  When the light through the living room window waned, I loosened my arm from its tight grip around his back and glanced at my watch. “We really should go. I promised Kevin I’d be back by six.” I didn’t look into his eyes for fear that we’d spend another hour locked up in our own universe.

  He kissed the top of my head. “That moment was worth waiting three months for,” he said.

  We slipped into our coats and I placed my apartment key on the counter, looking around the place once more, letting my hand fall into Galvin’s. My other hand fell onto the outside knob and I closed the door to my childhood behind me.

  ♪ ♪ ♪

  We arrived at Kevin’s a little over an hour later due to the weather and the rush hour traffic. As we stepped onto the porch I could hear Mom’s voice on the other side of the door call upstairs, “Kevin, they’re here!”

  I looked at Galvin and shook my head with a smile. “Ready?”

  I think I was more nervous than he was, but he always displayed a cool aura; he seemed so collected, so sure. Meanwhile, I tried to urge my heart to beat slower and my hand not to shake as I reached for the doorknob.

  He nodded and I opened the front door. Mom was standing with one hand on the staircase banister. “Galvin!” she exclaimed, “It's so wonderful to finally meet you!” She flew to him, giving him a hug.

  I took Galvin’s coat with mine and hung them on the overloaded coat rack as he exchanged niceties with my mother. Kevin came down the stairs, still in his work clothes and wearing his black socks that stood out against the sandy-white colored carpet that coated the stairs. Before I could introduce them, Mom ushered Galvin out of the foyer by the crook of his elbow. “Kevin, this is Galvin,” she said.

  Kevin tackled the last few stairs and shook hands, he cupped his left hand over Galvin’s while he spoke. “Good to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you.” Kevin looked at me and smirked.

  Galvin nodded and stammered his words, “It's good to finally meet you as well.”

  Kevin patted him on the back and laughed. “Let's go sit down. Are you hungry?”

  “Come into the kitchen, dinner is almost ready,” my mom stated, grabbing my hand and pulling me down the hallway ever so smoothly.

  We were standing around the island in the kitchen, while mom cut up some vegetables, and Galvin was talking about one of his recent traveling experiences when I heard the front door open. I heard Meadow kick off her boots (she did so in a way that they always thudded against the hall closet door and again onto the floor).

  She came straight into the kitchen without taking off her coat. A smile was slowly growing across her face. “Stie! Galvin!” she exclaimed and stole a hug from Galvin. He didn’t catch her coming into the kitchen (he was talking to Kevin about Bangkok with his back to the hallway) and only noticed Meadow when her arms were wrapped around him. With a carrot stick in one hand, he awkwardly returned the hug. Meadow pulled away, “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “You too,” Galvin said, giving me a suspicious look.

  Meadow turned to me, still ignoring Kevin and Mom, and said in an excited low tone, “Stie, I just hugged Galvin Kismet.”

  I laughed. “Yes, I know.”

  She bit her lip and narrowed her brow. “But I supposed you’ve already kissed him.”

  “Um...” That was an uncomfortable moment with Mom and Kevin standing only a few feet from us and I felt my face grow warm.

  She turned to Galvin, slyly. “Don't even think about it!” Galvin warned, jokingly, putting up a hand in defense.

  Meadow smirked. I could tell she was delighted by his disposition. She exaggeratedly nudged me, winked, and in a loud whisper asked, “What is he, about a seven on the Kiss-O-Meter?”

  “Meadow!” I exclaimed, turning red and trying not to meet a grown up's eye. Suddenly, the celery I was chopping became intensely interesting.

  “On a scale from one to ten, that’s all I’m asking,” she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.

  “Christie,” Kevin interjected, showing mercy. “Show Galvin where he’s staying. His luggage showed up shortly after you left, it should all be upstairs.” Kevin then gave Meadow a reprimanding look. She replied by chomping on a carrot and sitting in the seat Galvin vacated with a smug grin.

  “She’s… interesting,” Galvin admitted as we walked upstairs.

  “I told you, she's one of those people you have to meet. She's unforgettable,” I said smiling as I finally realized Galvin was now a part of this reality.

  He chuckled as we made our way up the stairs. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”

  “You and me both.” I laughed.

  VII.

  Deflection's Reflection

  “Within” – William Joseph

  The first night he spent at the house, I promised my paranoid mother that I would remain in Meadow's bedroom all night. I know she didn't want me to make the same mistake she did, but her hovering and scrutinizing stares were getting ridiculous.

  On that first morning, I found Galvin sitting in the kitchen with Kevin, mugs of steaming coffee in their hands. Their talking ceased when I entered.

  “You are a picture of elegance,” Kevin teased, getting up. He ran both of his hands firmly down my hair attempting to tame the frizzy waves.

  “I had to share a bed with Meadow and her fifteen stuffed elephants. I think they come alive at night and knot my hair,” I shooed his hands away and defensively covered my head with the hood on my pajama shirt.

  Kevin laughed. “I have to go to work, I'll see you two tonight. Don't forget your Mom's in Milwaukee today for that conference.” He turned to walk out of the kitchen but then spun around and added, “And make sure Meadow gets up before noon. She has to babysit for the Cutler's.”

  I put two thumbs up. “You got it!” I said then turned to pour myself a cup of joe.

  Galvin got up and slipped his arms around my waist. “So, what's the plan for my first day with Chicago-Christie?”

  I heard the front door close and I turned around to meet his face. “Oh, I have a full day planned all to ourselves. You're going to see my town.”

  His eyebrows danced. “I can hardly wait!” he said kissing my forehead.

  “That wasn't an innuendo,” I stated, pushing him back with the side of my hip as I poured hot coffee into a Muppet Babies mug. “We're going to travel all over town and see some of my favorite places.”

  “Traveling, huh?” he said, sitting down at the island. “Are your favorite places north or south?” He put his mug to his lips to hide the mischievous grin and took a sip to stifle his snicker.

  I shook my head and smiled at his wit. “Since you're so charming and keen so early in the morning, I'm going to let you figure out a way to get Meadow downstairs.” His smile dimmed. He was still testing out the waters with Meadow. “And just a fair warning, on the best days she gets out of bed only after the use of large amounts of water, an ultimatum, or bribery.”

  An evil smile traveled across Galvin's face. “Is she a heavy sleeper?”

  I nodded with a sly smile. “You have no idea!”

  “Leave it to me,” he said leaving my side.

  I placed the mug on the counter and followed him upstairs. As I closed the bathroom door behind me I heard Meadow scream, Galvin laugh, and a series of banging, as if someone were throwing heavy-soled shoes against a wall.

  When I opened the door, Galvin had Meadow slung over his shoulder, her vibrant and furry slippers swung wildly in protest. “No problem,” he said smugly and started descending the stairs. Meadow stopped beating him with her favorite stuffed red elephant and with a stifled hint of amusement she declared, “I do not approve of this caveman approach, Stie. No, I do not.”

  Galvin and I spent the entire day d
owntown. We had Chicago style pizza for lunch, walked by stadiums, passed through museums, and walked by the lake. Galvin had a spontaneous side to him that not many knew about. He often used it to deflect his notoriety.

  We had gone to the Water Tower Place to warm up. He stopped to buy a baseball cap that branded the city's name (I suppressed a giggle when he put it on). As we passed the Sam Goody music store a group of teenagers spilled out. Some whispered and pointed when finally someone said, “Hey aren’t you Galvin Kismet?”

  Galvin pulled down on his cap in response.

  I laughed loudly and the group looked at me disapprovingly. Galvin looked at me like they were going to pop the bubble we were in. “He gets that a lot,” I said, hoping to deflect their attention.

  “My name-ah is-ah Dino Crocetti,” Galvin said in an Italian accent. “You wanta my autograph?”

  The group of teens walked away, dismayed. A few looked back but never turned around.

  I laughed at Galvin and tugged on his arm. “Never a dull moment with you, is there?”

  “Wait until I really get started,” he said, pulling his arm from my grip and wrapping it around my shoulder.

  After browsing around a candy store, Galvin and I hopped on an escalator between floors. A man in his mid-twenties and his girlfriend tapped Galvin on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, you look a lot like that guy, Galvin Kismet,” he admitted, holding his girlfriend’s hand.

  Galvin met my eyes for a moment then smiled at the couple. “Vatcha oosta kommen zooter.”

  “I’m sorry?” the man asked, confused.

  Galvin looked at me and nodded vigorously. I furtively shot him a look but decided to play along anyway. I put on an indistinct foreign accent and said, “I ahm sowry. ‘e does not speaka thee Eenglish. I ahm ‘is trahns-lay-ter.” I was surprised I kept a straight face.

  “Oh, my mistake, sorry,” the man said and we got off the escalator. I looked at Galvin and grinned, but the man followed us and tapped me on the shoulder. “I’m sorry again, but why would he need a personal translator following him around?”