He nudged me again, almost pushing me aside. “Medium or Large? What you do think?” Will was pointing to me as he was talking to blonde woman behind the table.
“They run big, I think medium would be fine,” the woman told Will as she looked me over.
Will put the shirt on top of my head and smiled, “Hey, if she’s turns out to be the next big thing, you can say you saw her when she was just playing bars.”
“I’m not thinking along the lines of the next big thing,” I said looking at her bright face plastered on the T-shirt. “But I was never really a fan of those big popular artists anyway. That’s a face I could like. And she’s playing a Gibson. Oh yeah, much better than a pop star.” I laughed and pulled him to a table close to the stage.
We ordered some bar food for dinner. Three appetizers and sodas to drink. After about twenty minutes the woman came on stage, with three guitars. She carried them all herself. No stage hands, just her. I was in awe again. I looked over at Will. He was smiling. I could tell he wanted to be up there with her, but he just watched from afar as she set up her three guitars, each on its own stand, then walk backstage again to get her mic stand and microphone. She was definitely grass roots. She handled all of her equipment, set up, and still managed to get up there in front of everyone who watched her set up and sing and pull music out of those guitars.
After she set up, we watched her tune each guitar with a battery operated tuner sitting on her knee. Will got antsy. This was where we were comfortable, watching a singer song writer in action, not just coming out of speakers on a stereo. I knew Will had been looking into bars hosting open mic nights, but Deltaville didn’t offer anything of the sort. He’d have had to drive forty minutes to Yorktown at the least, but probably longer into Hampton or Williamsburg even to get decent gigs. I had tried to encourage him to do just that, but I sensed he didn’t want to leave town much unless it was on his boat.
I rubbed his arm and said, “You can do this, you know. You’re that good. I’d even come and set up for you. I could make it look like you have a crew and are too cool to have to set up the stage on your own.” I smiled. He did his Will laugh grunt, “huh he he.”
“One day, Princess. One day. For now, I just want to listen to what this chick has to say and then take you back to the hotel room.” Will lifted my chin with his finger, “Don’t you worry about me, Nikki Jay. I have the best audience any man could ask for.” He kissed me gently while still holding my chin and then moved his hand to my knee and squeezed as he turned his head back to the stage.
***
“Bella. Bella, no, it’s mine! Bell-Aaa! Mine. Doan NOT touch!” Doan. My daughter said ‘doan.’ I stifled a giggle through my sleepy haze.
I lifted my head. The DVD had moved onto special features, the making of Sleeping Beauty, and Emily was yelling at Bella, who was holding her soft blankie with a trembling lip.
“Mommy, she was taking my Aurora doll. The one with the magic jewel that lights up,” Emily said to me while smoothing the doll’s hair.
“Umm, okay, girls,” I mumbled while getting to my knees and standing up with a feeling of loss and exhaustion overtaking me. “Emily, do you have the doll now?”
“Yes, but Mommy, she can’t have her. She’s mine.”
“I doll. I doll, Mommy, I doll,” Bella said pointing to Emily’s doll.
“Come on, little one, let’s go find you a doll. Don’t you have Snow White somewhere?” I asked Bella, leading her up the stairs to her bedroom where I was sure to find many dolls thrown to the floor.
“Relly, Mommy, Relly. I’m a Relly,” Bella said running into her room and picking up a blonde doll wearing a blue dress.
“Cinderella is a fun doll, Bella. She’s a princess, too. Do you want to play in your room with Cinderella, or would you like to take her downstairs? She can meet Emily and Princess Aurora.”
“Ohhh, she wants to meet Emmie. If Emmie be nice.”
Holding hands, we walked back down the stairs to meet Emily and Aurora.
Chapter Nine
Will didn’t call the next week or the week after. I started to worry about him and sent him a text just after Thanksgiving.
I hope your Thanksgiving was a great one. Funny stuff around here with my mother in law, of course and cooking with two little ones, but we had a good time. I’m thankful you’re still in my life. Love ya.
I didn’t get a response for another week. It was short and to the point. I looked at it for a long time picking apart words not there, wondering how I should feel.
Tgiving was good. Love you too, NikiJay
I knew it was just a text, but even my name was spelled wrong.
December and January came and went with no calls from Will and few texts. When he did text me, the text messages were short and to the point.
Merry Christmas
Happy New Year
Thinking of you
Hope U R ok
Sing a song for me
Kiss the girls
Finally the first week of February, I called him. Rebecca answered.
“Hello?” Rebecca said with a hurried voice.
“Rebecca?” I asked.
“Yeah, who’s this?” She asked.
“Uh, it’s Nikki Ford, Rebecca. Is Will around?”
“Oh, Honey, I’m sorry if I sounded short. This phone’s been ringing off the hook lately. No, hon, he’s not here today,” her voice trailed off. “I mean he’s not here right now. But I can tell him you called for him.”
“Okay. Yeah, could you do that? Please?” My voice was soft and slow. I knew something was wrong. Or not right. Something was off.
“Will do, honey. You take care now, ya hear?” Rebecca hung up the phone.
Chris took all of us to a fondue restaurant for Valentine’s Day. The dinner was amazing. Having our young girls so close to two extremely hot melting pots was quite stressful for me. Chris didn’t seem to notice. He spoke of work, talked to the girls about things they didn’t know anything about, and ate like a king. I fished out meats from the pots the girls had put them in and left to overcook, tested meats they’d dipped but hadn’t let cook yet, didn’t get to eat much, and essentially was exhausted by the time dessert came around. For dessert, I asked for spoons and just spooned chocolate onto the girls’ plates so they could dip their bananas, strawberries, marshmallows, and graham crackers on their own plates. It meant their cute red dresses had drips of chocolate running down them before we left the restaurant, but it also meant I could enjoy dessert without worrying about them touching the pot or heating element under the pot. With the cheese and bread appetizer and meat entrée, I think they’d enjoyed enough dipping to allow themselves to enjoy dessert from their own plates.
Will kept popping up in the back of my mind. It had been two weeks since I’d called, and he hadn’t called me back. Our relationship had never been over text or email. We’d always talked over the phone. Our relationship dated back to a time before cell phones and Internet, and we’d never moved it to a texting format. But the last few times I’d heard from him were all text messages, and they were all short texts. I was starting to wonder if Rebecca had a problem with me. Or with our friendship. Maybe he was texting me to hide our relationship from his new wife. Maybe she hadn’t told him I had called. I decided to call his cell phone next time and not the house phone.
It took me another two weeks to get up the nerve to call him. I felt so ignored. I hadn’t heard his voice since November. Even after we broke up the final time, we’d still spoken quite a bit. I didn’t think I had ever gone this long without talking to him. It had been almost four months since we’d spoken to each other.
The girls were napping. Emily had said she didn’t want a nap, but after telling her I had a headache and needed to nap myself, she agreed to go to her room and play quietly. Before going into my bedroom to call Will, I checked on them both. Bella was sleeping soundly with her soft blankie snuggled next to her. Emily was sprawled on her bedroom
floor with her Aurora doll in one hand and her Goon Goon bunny in the other hand. She had played quietly. And then, she’d fallen asleep.
I sat on my bed with the phone in my hand. I rubbed my thumb across the LCD screen on the phone over and over. I was nervous. Not just nervous. I felt like I was going to throw up. Like I was doing something wrong. Maybe he’d made it clear to me he didn’t want to talk to me anymore. Maybe we weren’t friends anymore. Maybe I’d pushed him away when he called that day and started talking about the trip up to Massachusetts months ago. My mind wandered to the painting I’d started before he called. I had never finished it. Emily never finished her castle for Aurora either. They were all sitting in the garage still, where they’d spent the winter.
Looking at the phone again, I decided not to call him. He’d pushed me away. As busy as I had been over the years, getting married, having babies, moving to Colorado, and living my life, he’d always been the one to call me. I didn’t know if it was his decision to stop calling me or if the decision making belonged to his new wife, but clearly he’d made a decision either way. He hadn’t picked up his phone to call me. At least he hadn’t dialed. Why should I? Instead of calling, I sat on my bed and cried. I’d finally lost a good friend, someone I had loved. Someone I had kept in my world as my world evolved and revolved around different people, my husband, my children. But he’d pushed me right out of his world. Six months into a marriage, and he had no space in his life for old friends. I looked at the clock. Chris would be home in about four hours. I had plenty of time to cry, feel sorry for myself, pull myself together, and get the girls and me dressed before he came home.
I fell asleep with the phone in my hand and woke about forty minutes later with dried tears on my cheeks. After washing my face, I looked at the phone one more time, then checked on the girls. Neither one napped much in the afternoon anymore, so if they weren’t awake yet, they would be soon. Both girls were sleeping, so I freshened my makeup from the early morning application hours before and went downstairs to straighten up the family room and raid the kitchen for dinner ideas.
***
When Chris got home two hours later, the house was fairly clean. The girls were dirty from a random warm spring afternoon in the backyard. Dinner was cooking on the stove. I was still thinking of Will, but I felt as if the cry I’d had alone in my bedroom had helped me move on. It was becoming more obvious to me he’d moved on without me. I needed to do so as well. Without sadness, without anger, without emotion at all. If I didn’t deserve a phone call to tell me he no longer needed me or wanted me as his friend, then he no longer deserved to have any control over my emotions. I needed to move forward with my life. Chris, Emily, Bella, and our friends here in Colorado. Will was never a part of my Colorado life anyway.
“Hey, babe. Smells good in here. What’cha cooking for dinner?” Chris asked as he walked in.
I walked up to him, stood on my tip toes, and kissed him. “Sweet and sour chicken, broccoli, carrots, and pineapple,” I said to his lips as I ended our kiss.
Our first day of spring like weather ended with Chris and me sitting on the patio drinking a glass of wine watching the girls try to jump rope in the back yard. It was a pleasant ending to a stressful day, and I decided sitting there with my husband and children, I wouldn’t invite stress and negativity into my life again. Will hadn’t left my mind in weeks, and I realized it wasn’t fair to me, my well-being, nor my family. If someone didn’t want to be my friend, I was still good. Even if it was someone I still loved as dearly as Will. If his marriage was more important than maintaining our friendship, then I’d be happy he found something special to maintain rather than feeling sorry because I lost him somehow.
“I love you, Chris,” I said and leaned into him for a kiss.
“I love you too, Nik. But I can tell something is bothering you. Another park playdate bad judgment today?” Chris asked laughing.
“No, we stayed home today. I didn’t realize it would be so nice outside. It’s been so windy and chilly lately. I haven’t even thought of going to a park, but the girls would love it, I bet,” I said, practically ignoring his inquiry of what could be bothering me.
“Nik?”
“What, Chris?” I was getting annoyed. I didn’t want to talk about it after talking to myself all day and working hard to push hurtful feelings away from my heart.
“Is it Will?” Chris asked.
“What do you mean?” I picked up my wine glass and gulped.
“Will. He hasn’t been calling. I’ve noticed too, Nik. He used to call every week. Things like that don’t go unnoticed, ya know.” Chris sipped from his glass while watching me from over the wineglass.
I wiped a tear from my eye. “Yeah, Chris. He hasn’t called. I’ve noticed. I tried calling him a few weeks ago. Rebecca took a message, but he hasn’t called back. I actually haven’t heard from him since November. He sent me a few text messages around the holidays, but that’s it.” I paused, drank some wine, refilled my glass, and then unloaded. “Chris, please understand. I know we went through these crazy emotions last year at the wedding, but it’s not the same. He’s been in my life almost as long as I can remember. If this is Rebecca…well, I’m just pissed. No. I’m hurt.” I couldn’t say any more. I had moved from hatred and anger to sadness and tears throughout much of the day. Once I opened the floodgates and decided I could feel something about it, I wasn’t sure of anger or sadness, which emotion I should be feeling. So I tossed myself between the two. I knew I’d end up numb after allowing my emotions to fight one another. And then I’d have to let go. I’d have to let Will go, let go of a lifelong love and friendship I thought would last longer than any other relationship I’d ever have in my life. Numb felt better than letting go.
“Oh, Nikki. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s going on,” Chris looked ahead, and not at me. He seemed lost in his own thoughts. “Maybe it is Rebecca. Maybe after a year, he’s ready to focus on his marriage. His new life.” Chris sighed. His voice felt empty. Like he was leaving something behind. An opinion he didn’t want to say to me. “You know, Nikki,” he paused again. Chewing up words before he could spit them out. “Maybe he’s got something going on. You know. Maybe he’s just going through something.”
“Chris. This is Will. He’s called me for everything he’s had going on. Every week for years, he’s called me. I’m sure he’d want to tell me if something were going on.” My mind started reeling through time after time of phone calls where he would tell me of a new job, a new gig at an open mic night, a new song, a new friend. Rebecca. He didn’t tell me about Rebecca until he proposed to her. Maybe their marriage was already on the rocks. The first year is the hardest, and after living so long paying tribute to his family at his grandfather’s house, maybe those discussions about the cap to the toothpaste weren’t going so well. I snickered, catching Chris’ attention.
He looked at me, smiled, not knowing my thoughts, or maybe guessing my thoughts. “I’m just saying, give it some time. Maybe he’s going through something and needs to do this one on his own.” He finished off his glass of wine, got up, kissed my head, and walked into the house.
Sitting back in my chair, twirling my wine, I smiled. I didn’t want his marriage to fail. Maybe he wasn’t calling because they were having problems. Either they wanted to work them out on their own, or he planned to wait until she moved out of the house before calling me to tell me it just didn’t work out.
Will had quoted a singer from one of the CDs we’d picked up on our Northampton trip a lot over the years. Sitting on my patio, I could hear Will saying, “Sometimes you’ve just gotta live your life, fight the world and what’s coming.” It was a line from Neila Lees’ song, What’s Coming. For years after that trip, and after the final break up, Will would end our call singing the line, “What’s coming will tear us apart, but our love will always fight it.” Over the years I stopped listening because I’d memorized every word and knew what was coming from Will at the end of each c
all. I usually focused on the tradition instead of the words.
Those thoughts made me smile. I finished my wine, took my glass inside, and then called the girls in from the backyard. Chris and I decided on some indoor family time.
Chapter Ten
Will never called me again. Rebecca called in late May. She talked to Chris for a long time. At first I thought it was his mother or a friend because he was speaking as if he were following up on a previous conversation. After a few minutes, he handed the phone to me.
“Nikki, sit down, please. Rebecca is on the phone. She needs to talk to you. I know what she’s asked, so don’t feel like you have to hang up and talk to me about it before you decide. You can call her back if you want to think about it alone, but you don’t need to ask me. We’ll work things out on this end. You just decide what you’d like to do. And,” Chris handed me the phone. “I love you.” Chris walked away, and took the girls upstairs. I just sat there with the phone in my hand wondering what was going on. Once I could hear Chris reading a book to our children, I picked up the phone, held it to my ear, waited a moment again, and then greeted Rebecca.
“Rebecca?” I said shaking. I knew something was wrong.
“Nikki? Hi, doll. How are ya?” Rebecca asked.
“I’m good, Rebecca. What’s going on? Is Will okay?” Surely she didn’t call me to see how I was doing. Surely my husband didn’t just tell me I could decide something on my own without talking to him because he knew what was happening simply so Rebecca could ask how I was doing.
“Well, Nikki…” Rebecca grew quiet. When she started again, her voice was no longer solid. “We’ve been going through some things here. And Will…” she paused again.
“Will what?” I thought to myself, Will was in an accident? Will was in the hospital?
Rebecca continued with a shakier voice. “Will would like you here. To be with him.”
“To be with him?” I asked in shock. “What the hell does that mean? You’re with him. I’m with Chris in Colorado. Rebecca? What’s going on?” I was getting angry.
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