All She Wanted (Letting Go)

by Deese, Nicole

  I had lost sight of Briggs a while ago as the wedding party was instructed to re-group for yet another round of pictures. I laughed when I heard the announcement from Betty, knowing that Briggs was more than likely groaning in misery somewhere.

  I walked over to the reception tent as the band continued to play. The evening’s cocktails and appetizers were currently being served as I milled around, looking for a table. In the process I found my parents, who in turn, complimented me tirelessly in front of their friends before I could break away.

  I was thankful that there wasn’t a seating chart tonight; I hoped that meant I’d actually get to sit with my date—my friend date. I was handed a glass of white wine by one of the waiters when he walked by me. I sipped it slowly, heading toward the edge of the tent, my earlier mission of table hunting momentarily forgotten.

  The setting sun was too beautiful a distraction for me to ignore.

  I stood watching it in awe. It was moments like these that I knew I could never doubt the existence of God: Sunsets couldn’t be by chance. Art wasn’t made without an artist; just like creation wasn’t made without a master Creator. My skin prickled immediately when I heard the familiar voice behind me.

  “Ya know, it’s not very nice to compete with the bride on her special day, Shortcake.”

  My stomach flipped.

  Friend or not, he was still a flirt.

  I smiled, turning to face him as my words slipped away in an instant. Briggs had looked good from afar, but up-close? Whoa. I cleared my throat, forcing myself to reply.

  “You look...nice.”

  Really, Charlie? Lame.

  He laughed. “Come on, let’s go find a seat. Dinner is about to be served.”

  I nodded, feeling his hand brush against my lower back as we made our way back through mob. Once we sat, I was grateful to finally focus on something other than the nearness of him. For the next half an hour or so we talked with the other guests at our table, swapping stories of how we had come to know the bride and groom. I enjoyed this conversation immensely, though I could feel Briggs’ eyes on me throughout the majority of it. I wished I could stop trying to read more into his looks than what was actually there.

  Dinner was served soon after that.

  As the dessert tray made its way to our table, I felt myself start to retreat. Nerves, which had been easily sidetracked by the many events of the evening, had finally found their way back to me. I touched the stem of my second glass of wine and twirled it over and over with my fingertips. The later the hour became, the less time I had to delay the inevitable conversation that was to come.

  I picked up the glass of wine then and tipped it back quickly. I needed to get this over with. A low, radiating warmth spread throughout my belly as I caught Briggs’ eyes on me. I told myself it was the wine; I almost believed it too.

  Briggs

  Charlie was a bubble of delight when it came to meeting people. She not only knew how to ask the right questions to make a conversation flow, but she actively participated in it as well. Nodding, laughing, commenting, there was nothing she missed…and nobody missed her. She was simply captivating.

  Not only was she the most stunning woman in the room—the only possible exception given to the bride—she was the most coveted as well, a fact that did not escape me in the slightest. I had already warned off several brave attempts by young males who had tried to approach our table, but luckily, my non-verbal threats to them had been lost on Charlie.

  I watched her throw back an entire glass of wine after hardly touching her dinner, realizing her talkative streak had suddenly come to a halt. I caught her eye then, as Kai and Tori finished their first dance together as husband and wife.

  “I have a promise to keep,” I said, baiting her to remember.

  She looked at me puzzled, shaking her head in confusion. I nodded to the dance floor and her eyes lit up in understanding.

  “Dancing?” she asked.

  “Yep. Can’t let you make a liar out of me, I promised you a dance…and tonight I’m gonna cash it in,” I said.

  “Oh you are, huh? That is some way to ask me, ya know, it really is a wonder that you’re still single,” she said.

  I threw my head back and laughed, the corners of her smart little mouth turned up as I did. Standing, I held out my hand to her.

  She took it without a second of hesitation.

  Chapter Thirty

  Charlie

  I shivered as he drew me close. Holding my right hand in his and my other on top of his shoulder, I felt dazed. There was nothing that went unnoticed by me in those few moments. My world had melted into one giant, soundless collage of colors. My focus was suddenly very concentrated.

  All I could see was Briggs standing before me.

  All I could feel was his touch, burning into my hand and hip with equal intensity.

  All I could hear was the quickened beat of my heart in my ears.

  He only wants to be your friend, nothing more. That reminder was like ice on a sunburn.

  I turned my head away from him to stare out into the dark night that was intertwined with every kind of twinkle light known to man. I felt the effects of the wine then, as the lights began to blur together into one large ball of fire. I gave my head a shake, trying to clear my double-vision.

  “You okay?” he whispered, bending closer to my ear.

  “Yes, fine. You?” I asked. I swallowed hard.

  “Why did you go all quiet back at the table?”

  He of course, had ignored my deflection.

  I took a deep breath, “I talked to my Professor today…I’m going on tour.”

  Other than the tightening of his grip on my hip, he did nothing, said nothing.

  “Did you hear me?” I asked quietly, although I knew that he had.

  “Good.”

  I stopped moving and looked at him. His face was hard, his eyes intense as they focused. It seemed a strange word choice, one that didn’t match his expression at all.

  “Good?” I repeated.

  “That’s the right choice, Charlie. It’s the best thing for you.”

  He led me to move again to the music as I pondered his response, my heart plummeting with each shuffle of our feet.

  What had I expected him to say?

  It’s a great opportunity, he knows that.

  His voice startled me back into the present as we swayed, “How come you’ve never told me about your dreams, Charlie?”

  “My dreams?”

  “Yes, what are your dreams for the future?”

  You.

  I cleared my throat, pushing down the word that had almost escaped me.

  Note to self: No wine before talking with Briggs about anything involving the future.

  “I’m not really sure anymore,” I choked out.

  This time he was the one to stop dancing.

  Briggs:

  “I find that hard to believe, Charlie,” I said, “Someone as annoyingly tenacious and ambitious as you can’t be aimless for long. It goes against your nature.”

  She just shook her head, as if refusing to say more.

  “What was your dream before there was an anymore?” I asked her softly.

  She took a deep breath. “To be in concert, to travel to different venues and play for anyone who would listen, to use my music as a ticket to see the world, I guess.”

  A spasm shot through my chest at her admission, but I didn’t let it deter me. I had made a promise, I would honor it.

  “I believe you will then. What’s to stop you? You’re young and talented. When opportunities knock, you need to answer them, Charlie. You’re special; you belong on stage more than anyone I’ve ever known. Don’t let anything distract you from that...it’s your destiny.”

  I felt her stiffen in my arms as she looked up at my face. Her eyes said so much, yet I couldn’t decipher any of it.

  What is that look?

  Acceptance. It was the look of acceptance.

  Good, I
hope she hears me.

  She needs to run after her dreams, accept them with open arms and not look back.

  For nothing.

  For no one.

  Charlie

  And there it was.

  “It’s your destiny,” Briggs said.

  To someone else those words might have meant warm-fuzzies, or feelings of blissful purpose and hope, but for me, they served only as a reminder—one that was etched in my mind like a tattoo.

  “But there are other instruments, which were only ever meant to stand alone, to solo.”

  I had been discarded as a child, rejected as a girlfriend and imprisoned in a sea of want in this permanent friendship with Briggs. And though my parents loved me as a daughter, they had not separated who I was from the talent I possessed. Instead, they had pushed me to run toward the dream and life of a concert pianist, which up until recently, I thought was the only future I could ever have.

  Alex had watered that weed of loneliness and fear in me, but Briggs had been the one to cut me loose from its grasp—until tonight. Despite how much I had wanted to believe, despite how much I longed for Briggs to see me differently, he had not.

  He saw me as everyone else always had: As a solo act.

  He may have believed he was encouraging me to pursue my dreams and desires, but my heart could only envision distance, solitude, and isolation. The life of a traveling concert pianist was anything but a social one. My music would be my only companion, and for the first time it didn’t feel like enough. Yet hearing him say the words, hearing him speak so highly of the future I was currently second-guessing, gave me pause.

  Maybe I was the one who couldn’t see myself clearly.

  Maybe it was time to accept what was and stop fighting against what might never be.

  “Yeah, maybe it is.” It was not just a response; it was a resignation. My head fell to his chest as I closed my eyes, willing away the tears that wanted to fall as I breathed him in. I wouldn’t let him see me cry tonight. He believed I was strong, and tonight, I needed to believe that too.

  He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, hugging me, oblivious to the couples that were in constant motion all around us, “Just don’t forget me when you’re rich and famous someday…”

  His joke fell flat, neither of us laughed.

  Of all the things I had begged God to help me forget, Briggs was one thing I always wanted to remember.

  **********

  It was early, but that fact didn’t seem to bother Briggs the way it bothered me. I yawned and rolled my neck as I watched him saunter across the field in his workout clothes. The spasm in my stomach increased as he neared.

  This was the third morning we had met since the wedding. Briggs had suddenly taken a new interest in teaching me self-defense, and since I was leaving for Austin this coming Friday, our time together was limited. I had been more than just a little surprised when he had made the offer.

  “Morning.” He smiled as if he had been awake for hours.

  I nodded and gave him a wave, the loose bun on top of my head sagged to the left as I did.

  “Okay, quiz time first,” he said, clapping his hands once.

  I rolled my eyes—so far these “sessions” had been filled with far more talking than training. I was growing tired of his pop quizzes. I spouted off the mantra that Briggs had drilled into my head.

  “Eyes, ears, mouth, throat,” I paused, counting the seven in my head. “Groin, fingers, toes.”

  “Good. And what’s my first rule?”

  “Do anything and everything I can to get away first.”

  “ERRR!” Apparently my answer was wrong.

  I put my hands on my hips, “But you said-”

  “The first rule is don’t be stupid. Don’t put yourself in a risky situation, Charlie.” He eyed me as if we both knew exactly what situation he was referring to.

  “Okay. Fine. Moving on,” I said smiling. He gave me a lopsided grin in response.

  He threw out several scenarios: choke from behind, bear hug around the waist, hair grab from the side. Then, he waited for me to tell him what I should do in each one. I complied, but grew increasingly irritated as I did.

  “Briggs, shouldn’t I be practicing each of these rather than just talking through them?”

  His face became like granite. “If you don’t know them here”—he said pointing to his head—“than your first response won’t be to defend yourself, it will be to freeze. You must be proactive, Charlie. There is no wait and see what feels right in the moment. Self-defense is not about reacting, it’s about acting, and staying in control, reading your attacker.”

  “Okay,” I said, heat creeping up to my cheeks.

  “Okay.” He turned and walked two steps before reaching out and grabbing hold of my left wrist.

  “Oh!” I yelled, struggling against him.

  “What do you do, Charlie?” Briggs asked, his hand still tightly clasped over my wrist.

  And then I knew. I made a fist and rotated my arm inward in a scoop motion before whipping it up into a block, forcing him to release his hold.

  He smiled. “Good. Again.”

  We practiced this move several times on each wrist before moving on. Fingers were a key part to any self-defense strategy I learned. If I could grab ahold of a finger, I had control of the hand. There wasn’t much an attacker could do if I had his finger bent backward.

  For the first time, my small size didn’t matter. I felt confident as each move I had described in detail came to life as we practiced. I loved heel strikes the best—much to Briggs’ dissatisfaction. I had come a little too close on a shot to his nose once. Luckily, it had only bled for a few minutes.

  “Not too shabby for a little Leprechaun.”

  “Haha,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “Come on,” Briggs draped his arm across my shoulders as we walked through the parking lot. “Here, hand me your phone…it’s time I updated my contact name.”

  I complied, watching him edit the old one with his free hand.

  “So…does this mean you’re gonna teach a class at the University?”

  He looked at me out of the corner of his eye, “Did I ever have a choice—really?”

  I smiled, “No.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think so. I start next month.”

  We stopped in front of my car as I clasped my hands together in front of my chest. “Awesome! That makes me so happy, Briggs.”

  He stared at me, a heavy silence falling between us for longer than felt comfortable.

  He patted the wild nest of hair on top of my head, “Then that’s enough for me.”

  “What’s enough?”

  “Your happiness, Shortcake. I’d do almost anything for it.” He squeezed my shoulder before walking to his truck and saying goodbye.

  As I slumped into my car, my chest pounded with an intensity I hadn’t felt since our dance together at the wedding. I might have just spent the last two hours learning how to keep my body safe, but my heart was far from protected. There was no self-defense when it came to my feelings for Briggs. I had already broken rule number one.

  I had put myself at risk, and I had lost.

  Briggs

  Tomorrow.

  Charlie was leaving tomorrow morning.

  That reality was about as painful as stepping on a tack while barefoot. With every text that we shared, the urge to beg her not to leave had grown increasingly strong. My self pep talks were failing at an alarming rate.

  Sweat dripped off my forehead as I ran down Wilton Street, the late night air still very warm. I had been running for nearly an hour, listening to nothing but my own thoughts. I didn’t want music tonight. I needed to think—make a plan.

  I wasn’t a quitter, or a liar, or a failure, but all three titles sounded better to me than being without Charlie. Maybe we could figure out a way make it work. I could give her whatever time and space she needed to practice—whatever she needed in order to complete her assignments and comp
ositions…

  “What was your dream before there was an anymore?”

  “To be in concert, to travel to different venues and play for anyone who would listen, to use my music as a ticket to see the world, I guess.”

  Charlie’s plans didn’t include living in Texas, her dream was to travel the world. That took the idea of a long-distance relationship to a whole new level. Every time I heard her voice replay that line in my head, it was a slap to the face. Practicality took priority over any romantic notions I had of leaving my life behind to follow Charlie on her future tours. As much as I would love to be with her, watch her play, explore the world with her…there were too many anchors holding me here.

  How would I work? How would I provide for Angie and Cody if I didn’t have sufficient income coming in? Would I really be okay with not seeing my nephew for a year at a time? No. I couldn’t leave Cody and Angie behind—they were the only family I had left.

  I stopped suddenly, realizing where my feet hand taken me while my mind had escaped to the land of problem solving. I was a block away from Charlie’s house—Chief’s house.

  Even when my mind was saying no, my heart was saying yes. I fished my phone from my pocket.

  11:30pm.

  I took my shirt and wiped the sweat off my face, making a decision—one I knew I’d likely regret come morning.

  Me: You awake?

  If she responds I tell her everything tonight.

  Immediately, the phone buzzed in my hand.

  Strawberry Shortcake: Yep. Leave it to me to be doing laundry at midnight…procrastinator. You home from work?

  My fingers shook as they hovered over the keys. I was now only a few houses away, walking quickly before I could change my mind. My heart was beating at a faster rate than it had been during my run.

  Me: I’m actually in front of your house…talk?

  Strawberry Shortcake: Um…yes. Hang on.

  It was official, I was going to be the first man who’s heart shot right out of his chest due to anxiety. The drumming was so loud in my ears that I swore the neighbors across the street could hear it. A minute later, her front door opened and she stepped off her porch, turning on the infamous floodlight I had grown to love.