Blue Notes

by Lofty, Carrie

  “Megawatt. Wild and not giving a damn.”

  “Oh, I give a damn,” she says softly. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

  I sit with her on the bench. “Sure.”

  “You and Jude. Doing fine?”

  “We’re having a good time. That’s the best I can describe it right now.”

  “That’s not bad. And—please answer this with full awareness that he’s my brother and I don’t feel like getting squicked out—he treats you good, yeah?”

  I can’t help how my face heats up. If she can’t handle that reaction to my thoughts about her brother, she shouldn’t have asked. It’s not like I’m giving her a blow-by-blow of the last few weeks. I’m just blushing. “He does. It was kinda rocky, and I didn’t know what to do sometimes, but now it’s . . . it’s . . .”

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine. Just spit it out.”

  “Compulsive. I’m fixated on him. I like it, but it’s annoying too. It’s music turned up way too loud, you know?”

  I’m shocked when Adelaide closes the key cover, crosses her forearms over the gleaming wood, and drops her head. She’s crying.

  “Hey.” I turn to hug across her shoulders. “What’s this?”

  “I . . .”

  There’s a lot of hiccupping and sniffles. I fetch a minipack of tissues from my purse. She uses most of the pack. Aside from that bright lipstick, she hadn’t been wearing any makeup, which is a good thing. Her eyes are rimmed with red by the time she catches her breath.

  “I broke it off with David.” She must read the confusion on my face, because she adds, “Dr. Saunders.”

  “Oh. Wow.”

  “I just couldn’t take it anymore.” She turns on the bench, then drops down onto the floor, where she sits with her elbows over her knees. Her head hides in that retreat. Everything she says is muffled, but I get this hot glow of pleasure that she’s confiding in me. Even with Janey, I wonder sometimes if our friendship is one sided, if I’m too clingy, if it’s really okay to share my thoughts and confusing emotions.

  I’d been even less sure of my footing with Adelaide. Not anymore.

  “I was finally going to go through with it. He’d been after me for . . . well, since we started. He said his wife resented him because he wasn’t more excited about having a baby. It was a whoopsy pregnancy. He gave up going on tour with the Boston Philharmonic to stay home with her. So she’s been all cold and distant from him, yada, yada, and wasn’t it nice that he finally found someone to talk to him and make him feel like a man again? I liked being that someone special, like I’d won against this faceless woman I know nothing about.”

  She wipes her nose, this time with the back of her sleeve. I hand her another Kleenex and she looks chagrined.

  “Anyway, he took me out to dinner, roses, the works. He had champagne waiting in the hotel room. I’ve faked my way into clubs before, drunk when I wasn’t supposed to, but this was the first time a grown-up bought me booze. It felt wrong, but I was flattered too. He thought I was mature enough to handle it.”

  This whole time, my mind is doing triple duty. I’m hating Dr. David Saunders, I’m hoping against hope that her story turns out at least mostly okay, and I’m comparing her experience to mine with Jude. Mine could’ve turned out so badly, had Jude really been the player I’d thought he was, or had he been any less true to his word. I was so fortunate. I rub Adelaide’s back, soothing, waiting to see if she at least got out of that hotel room on her terms.

  “It was all bullshit,” she says, suddenly angry. Head up, eyes fierce, she kicks her feet so hard that the strap on one of her wedge sandals snaps. The sandal flies off. “I was half undressed and he had me working him, you know, with my hand. Then his cell phone rings. His wife was having contractions. He jumped off me like I was a pit of vipers he needed to escape. He lied through his teeth to his wife, that he was at a buddy’s house or some shit, and then he turned on me!”

  “How?”

  “He said I was a stupid, naïve kid, and didn’t I know any better?” She shakes her head violently. “But the topper was, he looked me up and down. His pants were kinda unbuckled, and I swear he got even more turned on. It was sick. I got really scared, because he could’ve done anything to me. Instead he just zipped up his pants and gave himself a little rub, smiling, and said he’d see me in class.”

  I’m furious, and I’m glad she’s furious, although I know she must be hurting. “You mean he wants to see you again?”

  “No, it sounded more like a threat. He’s still my professor! What am I supposed to do, go tattle? I’ll be the Lolita whore people thought I was in high school. I ran wild, but I wasn’t stupid and I wasn’t this naïve. It was easy to play with boys my age. They lag, you know? Then suddenly it’s like, boom. They turn into older men who’re hot and say all the prettiest things, and if it hadn’t been for that phone call, I’d be some virgin kid he got to roll around on for a night.”

  “You’ve never . . . ?”

  She laughs, which sounds bitter and frayed. “Never. Although I bet even Jude would have a hard time believing that.”

  I exhale slowly. This isn’t my business anymore. She’s vented. I should step away from sibling drama. But I don’t want to lose either from my life, and I certainly don’t want them in pain. “I think you’re underestimating him,” I say quietly. “I know I do sometimes.”

  “That’s because you’re you and he likes you so much. Geez, Keeley, you wouldn’t believe how much he talks about you. It’d be annoying if I thought you were a bitch, not worth his time. Instead it’s adorable. I’m really happy for you, and I’m so glad he’s finally loosening up. It’s like . . .” She blows her nose. “It’s like having him back.”

  “Then why not tell him about this?”

  “Because his rules for you and his rules for me are way different. There’s no chance, ever, that he’d let me off about this without a lecture. I don’t feel like being hammered with I told you so. Even if I deserve it.”

  “Now, wait.” I stand up and forcefully drag her to her feet. “How old is Dr. Saunders? Thirty-something? He’s the one to blame for this. He’s the one who lied and blew off his pregnant wife to get you in bed. It’s impossible to keep perspective when it’s so much fun and so exciting.” I catch her eyes. “Not to squick you out, like you said, but I know what that part’s like. Only, Jude’s a good guy. He takes care of me. Dr. Saunders was only going to use you. Don’t you dare think you deserve that, no matter how blinded you were.”

  She starts crying again. I hug her and she hugs back. “I told him to fuck off,” she says against my shoulder. “I told him, yeah, I’d see him in class, but I’d wear a turtleneck in August before he got another look at me naked. He didn’t even have his shoes back on before I grabbed my things and left. I couldn’t stand the idea of him leaving first, and me sitting there on the bed we’d messed up together. I did the leaving.”

  I hug her harder. “You bet your ass you did.”

  Adelaide uses a tissue instead of her sleeve—or the shoulder of my plain lime green T-shirt—and wipes her eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers.

  “I’m glad I was here. I mean that.”

  “Will you tell Jude?”

  I hold her upper arms and make sure she doesn’t look away. “Only what you give me permission to.”

  She shrugs. “Just that we broke up. Nothing more, please.”

  “You got it. Cross my heart. But Addie—”

  She smiles.

  “What?” I ask.

  “That’s the first time you’ve called me that, Miss Priss,” she says, her smile more genuine now.

  I stick my tongue out. “Addie . . . consider telling Jude yourself. Will you? He loves you so much, and I know you think it’s smothering . . . but trust me, not having someone to smother you is a lot worse.”

  Her hazel eyes t
urn canny. “There’s a story behind that line, isn’t there?”

  “Yeah. But no more stories for today. We need another milkshake.”

  Thirty-Two

  My promise to Addie is put to the test the next time I see Jude, when he takes me to the annual Po’Boy festival on Oak Street. It was so much fun, and we even stay for the awards. He rooted for some overflowing oyster concoction from a place called Mama’s, while I liked my Louisiana spicy sausage, served “hot” with Cajun mustard. He didn’t think I could eat something that flaming, but the burn was as good as the sandwich was tasty. In the end neither of our favorites won. That didn’t matter when we shared a piece of crème brûlée cheesecake that had been caramelized with molasses.

  I’m getting really uneasy, though, about balancing time with him against my goals for the semester. Yes, I’m obsessed with him, but I’ve been obsessed with my music for a lot longer. Maybe the urge to spend as many hours as possible with him comes from that: my music will always be there for me. Jude, no matter how good he is and how much fun we’re having, is not a sure thing.

  Neither is doing well at the Fall Finish. . . .

  Around and around and around goes my head.

  He and I are curled on his giant sectional. We’re naked, with a blanket covering us. I’ve been texting Adelaide for the last half hour, missing the end of whatever action movie Jude is streaming.

  He teases me, trying to grab my phone. “Keeley, what is going on?”

  “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

  “Wait,” he says, sobering. The blanket slips when he sits up, revealing his bare chest. I’ve seen him in daylight plenty of times now, but I still like him best when wrapped in nighttime. It’s where we met. It’s where we can hide away from shitty things like reality. “That wasn’t a flippant answer. Something is going on.”

  “I shouldn’t—”

  “It’s Addie, isn’t it? She’s been acting so weird the last two days and she won’t return my calls.”

  He eyes me with an expression I’ve decided he must use in boardrooms. It used to intimidate the hell out of me. He looks so serious and scary-powerful. That was weeks ago. Now I know he can try it on me, but there’s nothing he can do to threaten me . . . short of breaking up.

  The nuclear option, I suppose.

  “What happened? She told you, didn’t she? Whatever’s been going on? Maybe you two don’t think it’s a big deal to keep secrets, but she worries me sick.”

  I touch his face, palm to cheek. He leans against it as his eyes roll closed. “I’m sorry. I know you worry,” I say. “My bond with her isn’t as strong as yours, obviously, but she’s becoming really special to me. I’d be worried too, if she didn’t text or return my calls.”

  He nods to my phone. “Apparently that isn’t a problem.”

  “Because she’s not scared of what I’ll say.” I take a deep breath. “She’s scared of what you’ll say.”

  Agitated now, he pulls out of my arms and stands. Before I can blink—blinded by the stark beauty of him naked—he tugs on his briefs and jeans. Maybe he thinks that’s being modest when we talk, but that means he doesn’t have a very high opinion of his chest. Then again, with his hair gilded by lamplight and his eyes flaming, I’ll have a hard time concentrating no matter what he wears.

  Yet he looks sickened by his burdens, which calls to me on such a deep level. I want to stand and hold him and take away his cares until his stark frown disappears.

  “Keeley, please,” he says harshly. “Give me a clue here.”

  I sit up too, because there’s no way I can get through this conversation without being strong. Really strong. I have to protect two people I care about—by protecting them from each other. I grab my tank top where it got tossed to the floor, and shrug into it.

  “No, Jude. I can’t.”

  “What?”

  “I said no. I’m not telling you anything.”

  “Keeley—”

  “What would happen if I told you and Adelaide found out I’d betrayed her confidence?”

  “I’m her brother!” His shout is unexpected. I flinch and draw back. He’s never shown any sort of temper toward me. I know this is just his frustration cracking through, but I don’t like being on the receiving end of anyone’s temper. “I’m all she has and I deserve to know.”

  “You’re her brother. Do you think she wants to tell you the nitty-gritty of her personal life if she’s embarrassed, or if she thinks she’ll get railed at? I wouldn’t open my mouth, and I sure as hell wouldn’t trust the person who’d blabbed.” I meet him where he’s pacing. The muscles of his forearm jump beneath my hand, before he exhales. That gives me permission of a sort. I start to pet the hair on his arm, so silky, when it gives him such a rough, masculine appearance. “You’ll lose her forever if you make me do this. We both know you could. You could figure out a way to get me to talk.”

  He looks at his hand I’m holding and seems to force his fist to unclench. “Probably.”

  “Then for all of us, I’m asking that you don’t try.”

  With suddenness, he takes both of my hands in his. He kisses my knuckles in that endearing way of his. “Would you tell me . . . Dammit, Keeley . . . Would you tell me if she needed the police?”

  My heart skips. Ouch. That was painful, as a reminder of my own past, but also as a look into Jude’s worst nightmare. His sister—hurt, alone, and too embarrassed and alienated to ask him for help. I can give him relief from that particular fear. “Yes, I would tell you that. She doesn’t, though. And maybe one day, she’ll tell you stuff on her own.”

  “How? How do you know that?”

  “Because I asked her to try confiding in you. And . . . because of my parents.”

  I have to tell him something. Jude has been a patient teacher when it comes to physical intimacy, but he can’t help me with this. When will I finally feel okay about opening up about my life? For Jude, for Adelaide, and maybe even for me, I have to try.

  “Clair and John have held on to me even when I was at my teenaged worst,” I continue tentatively. “I don’t know why they didn’t just throw up their hands sometimes. But they kept a schedule, expected me to do my part and pull good grades. I never stopped wanting to impress them, and I never wanted to disappoint them.” I lean nearer to him, needing his hands on me, his security layered over bits and pieces of my train-wreck past. “They didn’t have to say a word. They didn’t need to ask a ton of questions. They just needed to . . . be there. They held my hand until I trusted they’d never let go.”

  My voice catches on that last. I want the hand I hold to be Jude’s. Clair and John have been amazing. They saved me when no one else thought to. Is it really ridiculously selfish that I want Jude to take over that role in my life now?

  “She’s so damn stubborn, Keeley. I’ve done . . .” He runs his hands through his hair before curling me against him again. “Christ, what I’ve done for her. All that I could. I’ve tried too hard, haven’t I? Driven her away?”

  “You’ve done the best you possibly could. You rearranged your entire life to give her stability. But . . .” I look up to kiss him. “You’re used to knowing everything and being in charge of hundreds of people. Her keeping secrets must seem like an insult. Or heartbreaking.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “I see you better than you think,” I say with a smile meant to soften his hard jaw. “You have to trust me. Can you do that?”

  He nods and leans his forehead against my crown. I don’t think he realizes how hard he’s squeezing our twined fingers. “I can try. Will you tell her that? I’ll try.”

  “I already did. But . . .” I lift our hands in front of me, clasping them tightly to my chest. “She gave me permission to tell you one thing. She isn’t seeing that creep Saunders anymore. She walked out on him. That’s enough for now, right?”
/>
  “Thank fuck,” he says under his breath. “But she really won’t talk to me about it? Hell, about anything?”

  “Now? I don’t think so. You have to get her to believe you won’t let go, even when she makes mistakes.”

  He exhales so heavily. “She’ll be expecting an inquisition. How do I not?”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday night. She’ll be at Yamatam’s, of course. Give her a hug and ask what she’ll be playing. She never tells me.” I turn to catch his eye, smiling. “Did you know that? She shares all her tips and tricks, but not what’s coming up the next time she takes the stage. Where your talk goes from there is up to her.”

  He looks so bewildered. I’m reminded again of how much he had to take on, on such short notice, and under such tragic circumstances. That Adelaide is in college and doing as well as she is—that’s Jude’s gift to her. Do either of them realize what a special bond they have? How lucky they are to have each other?

  I wonder briefly what it would’ve been like to have a brother or sister when dealing with my parents. I’m envious of Jude and Adelaide, but I’d refuse a sibling in a heartbeat. I could never be that selfish, to force my upbringing on someone else, just so I would’ve had company through the bad times.

  “Have you ever asked her? What she’ll play?”

  “No,” he says with a slow shake of his head.

  “You’ll shock her so much that maybe she’ll tell. And that would be something special?”

  For a long time, he just rubs my upper back. Between that and the beat of his heart, I sway on my feet. He must realize, because he scoops me into his strong arms and walks me to his bedroom. Only when we’re nestled together under the covers does he speak again, in a whisper. “Keeley, she’s really all right?”

  “She’s really all right,” I say, turning over to lie atop his chest. “And she’ll be better tomorrow, and the day after that.”

  His smile is as tentative as I’ve ever seen. “Thank you, sugar.”