All She Wanted (Letting Go)

by Deese, Nicole

  Then, the melody came again, like a soft, delicate whisper.

  The next two times through, I wrote out the music as I played. Though my strength was to play by ear, the university had pushed me to hone my music theory and composition skills to a new level. Writing music was now like brushing my teeth. Not much thought was involved; it was second nature.

  I laid the sheet music out before me and played it through again—although I closed my eyes halfway through. I hoped Tori would be pleased with it. Even though I hadn’t known her long, I felt this composition was tailored for her. We had spent a few evenings together now, and within that time, I had learned that she was truly someone very unique. I wanted that quality to shine through this piece.

  I wanted her to shine through this piece.

  Briggs

  After showering, I studied my face in the mirror, rehearsing in my head the words that were written in my heart, the words that Charlie had written on my heart.

  I can do this.

  I’d seen the way she looked at me when I asked her to dinner. She knew something was different about tonight. Much to the delight of my nerves, she hadn’t looked worried. She’d looked…surprised?

  It was hard to know for sure, but her eyes had been happy. That, I knew.

  I left the apartment and headed down the stairs, my phone buzzing in my pocket.

  The station.

  “Briggs here.”

  “Hey man, it’s Thomas. I think you’re gonna have to come in tonight.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Five guys just left here…all with what I think is food poisoning.”

  “What? No way…was it the Thai food?” I asked.

  “Yeah…uh, dude I need to go…I’m not feeling so hot myself, but we are way understaffed now.”

  “I’ll head in. I can be there in thirty minutes.”

  I threw my head back in frustration as I entered the house.

  So much for a nice, quiet night alone with Charlie.

  I thought of the chief’s words to me, about her being the priority. But this was an emergency and Charlie hadn’t even tried to break the rules since that first weekend I was here. As much as I hated to leave her, it was the right thing to do.

  At most, it would be forty-eight hours until the new rotation was back on, but I couldn’t leave them high and dry. I wouldn’t.

  Urgh. Responsibility sucks sometimes.

  I sounded like Cody.

  **********

  I didn’t know how I got to the French doors of the music room. I had no memory of it. I didn’t know how long I stood watching her—studying her, as she played with her eyes closed. I didn’t even know what she was playing. That didn’t matter.

  What I did know was that I had never experienced anything like it before.

  When Charlie played, nothing short of transformation took place in everything and everyone who was nearby. I was certain that she didn’t just play a melody, she played her soul. It was the kind of awakening that separated life from death, or light from darkness.

  I was completely mesmerized.

  If I had thought Charlie beautiful before this moment—and I certainly had—this undoubtedly trumped any of my previous assessments of her. How could one appreciate the full potential of beauty until it was seen in its truest form? It would be like looking at a caterpillar before it metamorphosed into a butterfly, or a seed before it had grown into a flower.

  But this, this was Charlie’s truest form of beauty.

  She was her music, and everything about it was breathtaking.

  As her last note resonated in the room, I clapped. She jumped of course, and then a slow, shy grin appeared on her face.

  “I thought you weren’t going to use your creepy-stalker-skill for a while?”

  “Technically, I was standing in the open. You were the one with your eyes closed.”

  She smiled wider. I walked to the bench where she sat.

  “You were—that was—I honestly don’t even have the words for it, Charlie.” I said, getting lost in the aqua of her eyes.

  Her cheeks blushed pink and she looked away, briefly.

  “Do you play an instrument?” she asked.

  That’s not what you just did.

  “Not anywhere close to that level,” I laughed.

  “But you do play something…I bet I can guess which one, too.” She pursed her lips, thinking. “Guitar.”

  “How did you guess that?”

  “You’re too cool to play a horn, too punctual to be a drummer, but you’re just the right amount of cocky for a guitarist.”

  “You do know me well, Shortcake.” I laughed.

  My smile dipped as the words soured in my mouth. Yet there are still some things you don’t know about me. I scooted her over with my knee and sat down next to her on the bench. Her bare arm brushed against mine, and I fought the urge to reach for her hand.

  “So, was that the song for Tori’s wedding?” I asked.

  “Yes, but be honest, do you think she’ll like it?”

  Her brows wrinkled with the question, and I wanted to kiss them both—reassure her that she and it were perfect, but I didn’t.

  “She will love it, I have no doubt.”

  “Are you in it—the wedding, I mean?”

  “Yeah. Crazy, huh? Kai entrusting me to be his best man.” I nudged her with my elbow.

  “Oh, I don’t know…it’s the crazy ones who make life more fun.”

  And that was it. My willpower was gone.

  I took her hand in mine, and slowly laced my fingers through hers. I heard a faint gasp come from her mouth, but she didn’t pull away.

  “Charlie, let me take you to the wedding—as my date?” I asked, looking into her eyes.

  An eternity passed before she spoke, but her eyes never left my face. We were so close. I could feel her breath, I could see her neck pulse, I could count her eyelashes.

  “That’s ten points to you, Briggs.”

  I smiled. “That’s an affirmative?”

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Charlie

  The angle was too awkward for kissing, but that didn’t make me want it any less.

  Our eyes held for a second more while my insides turned into a hot liquid that bubbled inside me with each breath I took. The touch of his hand on mine had started this molten reaction.

  He broke our gaze, looking down at our united hands.

  “I have some unfortunate news…”

  “What?” I asked, startled back into reality.

  “Food poising has hit the firehouse. Bad Thai, I guess. Good thing you weren’t feeling it tonight…’cause we would have really been feeling it later if we’d stayed,” he said.

  I chuckled a bit before disappointment overtook me. “So, you’ll be gone tonight through when? Sunday?”

  “Most likely. I’m sorry, Shortcake. This isn’t how I wanted our night to go.”

  I felt another bubbling sensation in my belly as tingles shot up my arm from where he rubbed his thumb over my knuckles.

  Our last weekend together…gone.

  “How many guys are out?” I asked.

  “The count was five as of twenty minutes ago, but I’m sure it’s more now. Usually we all share one large order,” he said shaking his head.

  “So you have to leave, now?”

  “Yeah. I probably should have left already, but I couldn’t miss the performance of a prodigy.”

  I smiled at that. “Okay,” I said.

  He slowly withdrew his hand from mine, wrapping his arm around my shoulders instead. I leaned closer to him, resting my head on his chest as I did.

  “I’ll make it up to you, Charlie—soon.” With my ear against him, his soft words resonated as if his heart was the one who had spoken them to me.

  I nodded, not trusting myself enough to speak.

  “You gonna be alright here, Shortcake? You’ll call me if you need anything, right?”

/>   I lifted my head and smiled, “Yes, Manny. I’ll be just fine. You should probably get going though.”

  And unfortunately, that is exactly what he did.

  **********

  With Briggs gone, a vortex of emptiness seemed to surround the house. I worked on Tori’s composition for a few hours more, perfecting it as much as I could. I ate cold cereal for dinner. I watched the Late Show. And then I stared at my cell phone as if willing it to ring.

  It didn’t.

  Overall, the night was a bust.

  Around two in the morning I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, hoping I had tired my mind out enough for sleep. But my hope was in vain. I stared at the ceiling fan directly above my bed, wondering if the rhythm could hypnotize me.

  I closed my eyes, but never found rest.

  **********

  For as long as I could remember, the man had come.

  I never knew when or why, but he always came. He knew my mama, though I didn’t know how. He would bring one brown bag of food every time, and every time the contents were the same: peanut butter, cheese-its and bread. The food never outlasted the hunger, but I was grateful for that bag, and for the man who brought it. He would talk to mama for a while, and then he would leave until the next time I saw him.

  One day after watching Cinderella—the video he had put on for me during a visit—I asked him if he was like the man on the screen.

  “What do you mean, Charlotte?” he asked me.

  “Are you like the prince?” I asked again, while trying to untangle my hair with my fingers, which was an impossible task.

  “No, Charlotte. I’m afraid there are only princes in fairytales. Life doesn’t work like that,” he crouched down before me, and it was the first time I saw him so close.

  He had black and silver eyebrows and a big nose, and his eyes were very sad.

  “I want to live in a fairytale,” I said quietly, careful not to speak too loudly inside the apartment.

  He put his hand on my head. “I wish things were that easy. I wish your mama’s life had turned out differently, but life’s cruel, and we usually get the opposite of what we wish for.”

  “What does…op-po-site mean?” I asked, repeating each syllable.

  “It means your mama never wanted this life. She never wanted to be sick, or poor, or a mother. You see, fairytales just aren’t real, Charlotte. It’s best you know that now.” He turned and ejected the video from the VCR.

  As I watched him leave and walk down the stairs to the parking lot, I saw him throw it into the dumpster on the way out. He never brought another one. I stared at the blank screen in front of me for a long time that day, tears rolling down my cheeks as I heard his word again, “…your mama never wanted to be sick, or poor, or a mother…”

  Maybe I was the reason that fairytales didn’t come true.

  **********

  I jolted awake, gasping for air, my cheeks damp with tears. I was glad to see that it was after nine—at least I had managed to get a few consecutive hours of sleep. I picked up my phone. Briggs had texted, but before I could respond to it, another text caught my eye—no, not a text, a reminder.

  Today is my wedding day!

  I threw my head back on the bed and covered my face with a pillow.

  The man was right: Life was cruel.

  Briggs

  There were several calls during the night, but nothing of great significance. I found myself awake and meandering toward the station’s gym around the midnight hour. The punching bag that was isolated in the back corner called to me, the way it always did when I was anxious. Chief had purchased it for me a couple years ago. Though I no longer fought for sport or money, there was no better way for me to condition my body or deal with my frustrations.

  After a hard workout I showered and fell into a restless sleep.

  I had texted Charlie first thing in the morning, but she hadn’t responded yet. I hoped she was able to sleep in, but as noon rolled by, I had grown increasingly concerned. It wasn’t like her to not reply; the girl’s phone was practically sewed into her hand. I tried again.

  Me: If you don’t respond to this, I’m sending over fifteen pizzas…and they will be staggered on the hour. You have five minutes. Starting now.

  This time she responded. Charlie wasn’t an abbreviated texter. She was funny, witty, and full of spunk. That usually translated into long-winded texting rants, but not today.

  I stared at my screen, tensing with uneasiness.

  Miss Strawberry Shortcake: I’m fine.

  Those two words were as startling as a punch to the jaw. I looked at them over and over for the next four hours. She texted nothing more.

  Maybe she was tired?

  Maybe she was busy at the piano?

  Maybe she was-

  “Girl troubles?” Evan asked, slumping down by me at the table. We each held a sandwich that looked like it could be on Man Verses Food.

  “Nah,” I said, shaking my head, not wanting to talk about Charlie at the station—except with Kai, but he was off today.

  “Well, you’ve been staring at that same screen for hours now—what gives?”

  Evan was a nice guy—a bit of a geek, but genuine. Chief had pushed him on me when he first started at the station, telling me I needed more good influences in my life. Naturally, that had been my reason to stay away from him at first. Kai was enough of a good influence on me. I didn’t need more than that. I couldn’t handle more than that.

  But as my friendship with Kai grew, Evan had somehow managed to work himself into the mix. He was alright—a friend.

  “It’s nothing, just…trying to figure something out.” I mumbled to myself.

  “Well…let me know if you do. I’m still waiting on an app to come out that will tell me how to talk to a woman, much less figure her out,” he laughed.

  “I’ll be sure to let you know, Evan.”

  **********

  As the sun set, I started to pace.

  Around dinnertime I had thrown in the old pride towel and called her. She didn’t answer. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Three more men had joined the crew for the evening as I walked down the hallway.

  I couldn’t stay another night here—not without knowing what was up with Charlie. I felt like I was starting to go crazy. As I passed the bulletin board on my right there were all sorts of brightly colored flyers tacked to it. During my shift I had passed it at least a dozen times, but this time…this time I saw something that made my blood turn cold.

  Saturday, April 28th!

  Join us for a Fun Run…

  I let the words at the bottom blur. I didn’t care about the details. But that date…that date, was today. And today was the day that Charlie would have married that pathetic loser.

  I walked back down the hall, grabbing my duffle bag and keys from my locker.

  “Evan, I have to leave. Can you take care of things? Call Smith or Matty?” I asked him, borderline frantic.

  “Yeah, sure—you figured it out?” he called after me as I ran through the parking lot.

  I didn’t reply because I hoped I hadn’t. And more than that, I hoped I wasn’t too late.

  **********

  The black storm clouds overhead blocked the moonlight, as the drizzle of rain from minutes earlier turned into an all-out monsoon. I pulled into Charlie’s driveway, banging the heel of my hand against the steering wheel. He car was gone.

  How could she do this? How could she leave and not tell me?

  A nauseating feeling of dread washed over me as I thought about her out at some stupid club numbing her pain, while falling prey to a thousand other kinds of horrors at the same time. Fear, anger, rage—those feelings I could deal with, but this feeling?

  This feeling was the worst one of all: Helplessness.

  Charlie

  It crinkled between my fingers—the one thing I had kept besides the ring.

  Sasha had made me burn the pictures, except for the one I had destroyed
on our dorm room wall a month ago. Any memorabilia from the concerts, clubs, and museums we’d gone to had long ago turned to ash, but I couldn’t part with the note.

  It outlined my reality; it outlined my greatest fear.

  Charlie-

  In music, there are many instruments that serve just one purpose: to complement.

  They work to enrich the sound of another, to blend, and to harmonize—adding to the collective whole of a melody line. But there are other instruments, which were only ever meant to stand alone, to solo. We, unfortunately, both fall into that latter category, Charlie. And two solo instruments should never share the stage.

  We want different things, have different goals, and in the end I know we would both find ourselves as unhappy as I am now. The idea of faithfulness to one woman for the rest of my life is one that suffocates me. I told you that from the start…you were the one who pushed for something more, something I didn’t want.

  Goodbye Charlie,

  Alex

  Even in his goodbye note, he hadn’t said the words.

  I, of course, had told him I loved him early on. But his response was always the same, a kiss, as if to shut me up so I wouldn’t say more. When he finally did say it, I knew now that he had only wanted to keep the peace.

  Our engagement was a final arm-twist—a last desperate attempt instigated by me. I needed something tangible to prove that I hadn’t made a huge mistake in choosing Alex over my family, or my friends, or my faith. I needed to know that I hadn’t thrown them away for no reason at all.

  I believed marriage would prove his love.

  I believed marriage would make him faithful.

  I believed marriage would right the wrongs.

  But a marriage to Alex wasn’t the miracle I had been looking for.

  I could finally see that now, but knowing truth and feeling truth were very different things. I stared into the ominous night as the rain pelted down around me. I wished it could wash away the past. I wished it could wash me whole. If only it had that kind of power.