by Lyssa Layne
She rolls her eyes. ''Three seconds is all you’re getting. Alicia, come here so I can hold on to you while I'm standing in these ridiculous skyscrapers. How many inches high are they, anyway?'
''Three and a half inches.'' I smile triumphantly.
''Joy-Anna, this is pure torture.” She laughs. “I was never a fan of heels before.” Abbie looks uncertain of how to walk, but I figure she better get used to it. The Williams clan love fashion and high heels.
''It's not hate, it's love,” I protest, kneeling down to slip one of the shoes onto her foot. “Presley would probably love seeing you wearing them.''
''Couldn’t we start with something a little less high. Like an inch?'' She sighs, staring down at the shoe mournfully. ''This is ridiculous. How can you even walk in these things?''
I’m horrified. ''Abbie, these are Louis Vuittons. You can’t complain about them.'' Abbie might be the first girl in the history of the world talking crap about Vuitton. He is the god of high heels!
''Does he design sneakers?'' Abbie asks in an amused tone.
''Yes – but no – you are not trying sneakers on. I asked you to try on the heels.''
Abbie heaved in a deep breath. ''Joy-Anna... Alicia. You are both nice women and very stylish, but it doesn’t matter how nice you are, there is no way I am walking more than four steps in these things. Okay?'' She isn’t asking, she is telling. As weird as it seems, she really isn’t a heel person. It’s okay, I have to respect her wishes. At least I tried.
Alicia turns to me. ''Presley would probably be pissed if she comes back with two broken ankles. I think Abbie's right. Flats it is for her.''
''Thank you, Alicia.'' Abbie takes the shoes off and places them back in the box.
''On your wedding day, you will wear heels.'' I announce decisively.
Abbie holds up her hands in protest. ''Whoa, whoa, Joy-Anna, easy! I only met your brother a couple of weeks ago.''
''I know, but you are going to marry him. That I'm certain of,'' I announce smugly.
Abbie's laughing, but I think underneath the bravado, she’s actually a little scared. I suspect the idea of marriage is a pretty huge step for her. ''Joy-Anna, you're hilarious,'' she manages. She's being so nice. I like her a lot.
Ali turns to Abbie and places a hand on Abbie’s shoulder. ''She's right Abbie. Presley’s said to us many times in the past, when the time comes, and he knows he's with the right woman, he won't hesitate. He definitely wants to get married someday.''
''Girls, come on... I know I love him, but this is so new.'' Abbie is clearly a little uncomfortable with the turn of our discussion.
''Sorry, but we're just so happy that he found you,'' I say.
''I am too.'' She smiles timidly, slipping her Converse back on her feet and keeping her head down, so she doesn’t have to look at us.
I decide it would be wise to stop talking about marriage, or Presley will be angry if he finds out we’ve made Abbie uncomfortable.
Although I change the subject, I know Abbie is his perfect match. I can’t stop smiling, I'm just so happy for Presley. After Kelly, I didn't know if he would ever date another woman again. With Abbie, I know it's already more than he ever had with Kelly. I would bet my shoe collection that they’ll get married before the end of the year. It’s a huge bet, but once he realizes how perfect Abbie is for him, Presley won't waste any time. I know my brother, very well.
Abbie
Believe it or not, I'm actually enjoying myself. Joy-Anna is a bit over the top, but I find myself liking her. She certainly loves her designers and fashion. She tried to get me into heels but failed miserably. I know she’s doing this with a good heart; there’s no malice coming from her. Joy-Anna is brilliant at spending money and convincing others to do the same. I haven’t spent this much money on clothes in months. It feels so good to splurge.
Marriage! I think she's insane for suggesting something so soon. The funny part is, I doubt I could say no to Presley if he did ask me. He's my everything, already. I know I don't know him very well, but everything I do know about him makes my heart happy. I've come out of a bad, unhealthy relationship and it makes me see just how much this one with Presley is worth. With him, it’s all about love, well-being and pure joy.
I bought a pair of nice shoes at the store where I tried on the heels. They're simple, flat, and made of black leather. Honestly, they look great and it surprises me since I’m actually stepping outside of my bubble. It is even possible for me to envision myself wearing them with something other than just jeans.
I can tell Joy-Anna and Alicia are hours away from being ready to go home. They have a couple of other stores in mind to visit. I decide I’m comfortable enough to be honest with them. ''Listen girls, I’ve had a really good time, but I'm exhausted after New York and I would love to some time with Presley. Would you mind if I leave?” I smiled mischievously. “Oh, and I’ll need his address.''
''You want to surprise him?'' I can tell from the look on her face that Joy-Anna loves surprises and will happily help me.
''Yeah, I do.'' I nod, with a huge smile on my face.
Alicia writes down the address on a scrap of paper and hands it to me. I hug them both and turn to leave, heading outside to call for a taxi.
***
Knock, Knock, Knock.
I can hear a piano being played. He probably can't hear me over the noise. I never expected him to be a lover of Beethoven; I figured he would like rock music. Expect the unexpected is something I’ve learned about Presley. After a few minutes of waiting, I decide to call him to get his attention.
''Abbie? You survived?'' He sounds relieved to hear from me.
''Yeah, I had a good time.'' Believe it or not.
I knock on the door again. I hear some noises on the phone and guess he's walking toward the door. I'm nervous, because he's not expecting me to be here.
''Good, I'm happy you had a good time. Hold on, someone's at my front door.'' It’s obvious he has no clue it’s me outside.
He unlocks the door and my palms are sweaty. I take a deep breath, and as soon as the door opens I let a shy, “Surprise,” escape my lips. I’m worried when his face goes white and he shuts the door behind him, stopping me from seeing into the apartment.
''Abbie... how— who —I thought I was supposed to pick you up.'' He doesn’t sound happy and my heart skips a beat.
''I was tired and I decided to surprise you.'' I chew on my bottom lip. He definitely doesn't look happy. ''Joy-Anna and Alicia gave me your address.'' This wasn’t a good idea.
''Oh… yeah, okay... Abbie... I um, I’m a little anxious about this. My apartment's a very personal place.” He rubs his fingers through his hair. “Please, don't judge me... you’ll think I’m some sort of weirdo. I have my photos, and paintings all over the place. I... umm…'' He's obviously freaking out.
''Don't worry, Presley. '' I place a hand on his arm, trying to reassure him. ''I'm not here to judge you.''
He opens the door hesitantly and motions me to enter. The entrance is pretty simple, nothing to worry about here. I drop my bags on the floor and walk into the living room. As Joy-Anna had mentioned, the walls are painted black. The furniture is white and very contemporary. There are huge black and white pictures, framed in red, on each of the walls.
Presley follows behind me silently. I can’t find words. I'm speechless. In a corner, I see what appears to be his tattoo work area. There are drawings of tattoos hanging on the wall. I wonder if he did them. It’s incredible. He is a man of so many talents. His kitchen could be in magazine; it’s also very modern. All the cabinets are bright red and the counter is black marble. There are paintings on the walls in here, too, including a portrait of his mother. At least, I think that’s who it is.
''Is this your mother?'' I timidly ask.
''Yeah, I painted her portrait, based on a photo we had. It was the last one we took before she left.''
''You are remarkable and so talented, Presley.''
&nbs
p; He smiles, but he remains silent. I think he’s self-conscious when it comes to his art.
I enter a room which turns out to be his office, and I can tell this is where the magic happens. There are photographs everywhere. There's a dartboard on the wall, and stuck to it is a photo of a blonde girl with a huge tattoo on her back. I figure he has some sort of an issue with her, but I won't ask about her just now.
''I have the photos we took in New York, if you’d like to see them.''
''Sure.'' I'm dying to see them. His camera probably did a far better job than mine would have.
He walks past me and shuffles a few things on his desk before he finds an envelope. He hands it to me without meeting my eyes. Turning up at his apartment uninvited has obviously made him very uncomfortable. I’m sorry I pressured him into this. I should have waited for him to invite me of his own accord.
In the corner of the room, I spy a baby grand piano. I realize he was the one I heard from outside. He’d been playing just a few minutes ago.
''You play?'' I question, indicating the piano.
''Yeah.''
''My mother used to listen to a piano version of ‘The Dying Swan’ all the time when I was a kid. She loved it.''
''I can play it for you, if you want,'' he makes the offer and strides toward the piano.
He settles on the bench and invites me to join him. He stretches his fingers and then starts playing without using any sheet music. He knows it by heart. I cover my mouth with both hands, fighting back the tears. The sadness of the music resonates deeply in my soul, so many memories running through my mind. My parents together and my mom attempting to dance like a ballerina in the living room. I can no longer stop the tears. I see images of my dad sitting on the couch, laughing at my mother’s tragic dancing talents. My dad's laughter was always so loud and full of love.
My eyes are mesmerized by Presley’s fingers dancing across the keys. How can somebody be gifted in so many different ways? I could happily sit here forever. I wipe away the tears with the back of my hand, hoping he didn't notice. When Presley finishes the piece, he glances at me briefly and kisses my temple.
''I'm sorry I made you cry, love.''
He places his fingers back on the keys. The beauty of the sound he produces amazes me. Presley's wearing a short sleeved t-shirt that lets me see his hypnotic ink. Everything about him screams bad boy, but yet, he’s playing piano like a professional and allowing me a glimpse of a whole other side of him. His tattoos are giving him a tough allure, but the music he plays confirms how soft and gentle he can be. I love him.
''This is my favorite: Frederic Chopin, ‘Raindrop’.'' He smiles while he’s playing but suddenly becomes serious. ''This was apparently my mother’s favorite piece.'' He frowns. ''It’s the first piece I ever learned.''
''Presley, you're incredibly talented.'' I seem to keep repeating myself.
He doesn't respond; he just continues playing. It’s a peaceful song, one I’ve never heard before. When his fingers hit the last chords, he stands up and offers me his hand. I rise beside him and gaze into his eyes. There's no need for words. We understand each other completely. I pull him towards me and kiss his soft lips. God, he feels good against my body. ''I missed you, Presley.'' I kiss his lips again. ''You have a nice apartment. I love it here.''
''Really?”
Why really? “Yes, you are an amazing artist, and that's what I love about you.'' His apartment is alive. The colors, the love he’s put into it. How can he not see it? Presley gives everything he has, he bares his soul and lets others peek in and savor his passions. ''Never doubt yourself.''
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Presley
We stare at each other for a long time. Deep down, I hope Abbie is wishing for the same things I do. Holding her forever and wanting her to be mine… ‘til death do us part. I'm crazy about this woman. She's stunning, intelligent and she accepts and nurtures my artistic side. She cried when I played the piano for her. I want to know why she reacted that way. There is so much more to learn about her; and I’m certain there are so many more reasons to love her. Never in my life have I felt like this, and in all honestly, I'm scared shitless.
I gently kiss her sweet lips. ''Can you tell me more about you, your life, and your parents?'' I'm curious. I’ve decided I want to know as much as possible about her. She raises an eyebrow and I continue. ''You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but I would like to get to know you better. ''
Abbie takes a moment to think, before she starts to speak. ''I was born in Portland. My parents got divorced when I was eleven years old. My mom got married young and I think she was tired of the life she had with my father. Dad didn’t want her to leave but there was nothing he could to make her stay. Erin, my mom, wanted to be free. She needed a new life. She packed up our things and we moved to Las Vegas. She became a different person from that point on. She started dating other men and I hated it. She didn't seem to care how I felt about it, she was apparently trying to find her perfect match. Some of the guys she dated were nice, some were idiots, and some were young enough to be her son. When I turned thirteen, she married a dentist. She’d only been dating him for three months when they got married. I think she thought she’d hit the jackpot. He had a big house, a fancy sports car and he spoiled her constantly. I was so angry when they got married. I barely knew him, and she never once asked me if I was okay with her plans. The first thing I knew, he was my step-dad, and was picking me up from school. They got divorced eleven months later, with Mom citing irreconcilable differences. The dentist cheated on her numerous times during their marriage, and she realized money doesn't always make things better.”
Abbie takes a deep breath, grips my hand and leads me across to the couch. Settling on the plump cushions, she continues speaking. “Mom’s heart was broken, and she went downhill from that moment onwards. She suffered a depression and alcohol became a necessity to her day to day life. A couple of months after the divorce, she met Dwayne. He was good for her and he did seem to care for her. She started smiling again and stopped buying a bottle of Jack every two days. He was younger, but he definitely seemed able to deal with her craziness. She married him, and six months later, they decided to move to South Carolina. When they made the decision, I moved back to Portland to live with my dad. I didn't want to move to another strange city, and I missed my dad. I hadn't seen him a lot during the years we lived in Las Vegas and he was a good father.” She takes a deep breath, hesitating for a few seconds. ''And I missed Cameron. He was my best friend; we used to play together all the time as kids. By the time I moved back to Portland, we’d both grown up some, and we discovered our feelings for one another had grown and changed. When we saw each other again, I thought he was very attractive, and he was very attentive with me. He was always there for me.” She took a breath and shrugged nonchalantly, looking up into my eyes. “So that’s it, I guess. You know what happened next. My Dad passed away, I broke up with Cameron… moved to Seattle and then I got involved with Dean. I have no idea where my mom is nowadays.''
''Maybe you should try to find her,'' I suggest. It’s not my place to push Abbie, but if her mother is alive, I think, she should search for her. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about my mother. I still miss her terribly.
Abbie seems uncertain. ''I don't know. I'm not so sure it’s a good idea. I don't think she needs me anymore. She has Dwayne, and last I heard, she’s happy. My cell phone number hasn’t changed. She could’ve called me any time she wanted to.” She combs her fingers through her hair, looking frustrated. “It was so different the last time I saw her, as if she’d moved on with her life and I wasn’t part of it. I don't know, Presley, maybe someday I’ll look her up again, but I’m not ready to do that now.''
''I’ll be there for you, if you ever decide to get in contact with her. I’ll help you, I promise.''
''Thank you.'' She presses a kiss my neck. ''So, while we’re learning more about one another – what's your stor
y?''
''I was mostly raised by my dad. My mom, Frances, left when I was three years old. Joy-Anna was almost two at the time. I'm apparently a lot like my mom… she was an artist too. She played piano, but I hear she was a lot better than I am. The relationship between Dad and me wasn’t easy, to say the least... I think I reminded him too much of Mom. When Joshua started going to school, as far as Dad was concerned, he was the perfect son. Joshua settled into school life well, and got great reports from the teachers. When it was my turn to start school, I was either drawing all the time or I was thinking about the new piece I was trying to learn to play on the piano. I didn’t do well academically; I was too distracted by my passion for the arts. It made Dad crazy, he got frustrated with me and we fought a lot, until finally, he realized what I’d been telling him was true, and I couldn’t fit into the mold he’d made for me.” She is watching me, concentrated on my story. I like that she cares. “So, he finally agreed to send me to a school specializing in the arts, and I found somewhere I belonged. I was so freaking happy after struggling for so long with shit I didn’t want to do. My relationship with my Dad was lousy for a very long time, but a few years ago, Dad remarried. Lucia is a lovely woman; she has a heart of gold. She’s been instrumental in repairing the relationship between Dad and me. We're much closer to one another now, because of her.''
''I'm glad your father sent you to an art school. Nobody should waste talents like you have. Presley. You are an incredible human being.''
I could listen to Abbie praising me all day long. ''I'm so glad that I found you,'' I whisper as I kiss her, moving a strand of hair back from her face. She slowly brings her face towards mine. I mirror the movement and we kiss. Her lips are perfection against mine, her mouth molding to fit mine as if we were meant to be together. The kiss deepens, and then I pull away to stare into her eyes once more. ''You drive me fucking crazy, I hope you know that.'' A huge grin slides into place on my lips, and she answers with one of her own. ''You have the same effect on me,'' she admits.