by Lyz Kelley
Wasn’t tonight her little piece of rebellion?
If her parents had still been alive, they would have found ways to talk her out of playing at the local bar, but they weren’t around to direct her life. Not anymore. So their opinion didn’t count. She needed to stop being so afraid. Keep taking chances. Like being with Joey. Otherwise, she’d end up living a very safe and very empty life.
Mara rallied her courage. “I want you to have fun, too. Enjoy yourself. I’m going to light up that stage tonight, just for you. You’ll see.”
“Wow. Who kidnapped my friend and replaced her with this confident person?”
“I always have confidence. It’s just when it comes to my singing, it decides to play hide-and-seek.”
But that wasn’t entirely true.
Somehow, over time, the unbendable steel bar of courage had slipped away into the darkness. Blindness did that to a person. However, blindness didn’t equate to irreparably damaged. Tonight she would prove it. She managed to find a quiet corner to listen to the friendly game of pool until Joey beat Tony. Tony, convinced the win was a fluke, challenged Joey again with the same result.
“For those who ordered, your food’s up,” Jack’s voice finally announced.
“Didn’t you order a salad?” Mara affectionately tapped Kym’s fingers when she wrapped her hand around her forearm. “Dinner can wait a bit. Go kick my brother’s ass in a game of pool. Show him how it’s done. I can manage.”
Only a fraction of a second ticked by before Kym yelled, “Rack em’ up, Tony.” Kym pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. “At the end of the bar there are a couple of free stools. Go straight past the pool tables and keep on truckin’. Joey ordered onion rings, and I got you some potato skins.”
“You didn’t—”
“My treat. Now go have fun and stop worrying.”
Mara’s spirits lifted, giving her the courage to put away the self-defeating chatter tromping around in her head. She could get on that stage and sing to a crowd of people. She could do it. Now, if only she could walk to the bar without knocking someone’s drink over.
Finding an empty barstool, she hopped on.
“Mind if I join you?”
Joey’s question sent a waterfall of giddiness down her back. “Sure. Your onion rings should be here somewhere. It’s this plate…I think.” She pointed to her right.
“You and your gold-medal sniffer. Has to be the best around.”
Her sniffer required intense training after her swollen and bleeding brain had stopped sending signals from the occipital lobe. Doctors focused first on physical conditioning to get her walking again. Comparably, sensory therapy was a snap. She pulled her plate closer and felt around for the silverware roll. Finding it, she unrolled the set.
“When one sense is lost the others start compensating. You should try putting on a blindfold one of these days. I bet you’ll smell more than you expect.”
“I still want you to teach me sensory identification.” Joey reached over her shoulder to take an onion ring.
“There’s not much time, since you’re leaving tomorrow.”
The chewing sound slowed, then stopped. A plate scraped across the counter. “Don’t remind me. My boss doesn’t like to take ‘no’ for an answer.”
“I’m sure he needs your help.”
“Yeah. The job commitments I can’t escape, but being home—spending time with you—with family. Being in Elkridge again…isn’t what I imagined.”
“Why? Because you assumed time stopped when you left, and it would be the same when you returned?” she asked, already knowing that’s what he assumed. His silence proved her right. “It’s not like you were never coming back. Now you know it’s not so bad, maybe you’ll visit more often.”
“I can call too, you know.”
“Not if we don’t have each other’s phone numbers.”
A tug at the back of her jeans meant her phone had been lifted with the finesse of a pickpocket. “Here, put in your passcode. I’ll program my number into your phone. You can call me anytime you like.”
With her finger, she drew half of a letter M to open her phone, then handed her cell off. The giddiness of a “boy” giving her his number escalated, then dissipated.
Just her bad luck.
She’d finally found a guy with a steady job, a good family, who was a virtual sexual superman in bed, and accepted her—blindness and all—yet, he was leaving. Not only was he leaving, but he also lived in a completely different state. After tomorrow, she wouldn’t be able to touch those glorious muscles or smell his luscious scent. She wouldn’t be able to look forward to him popping up at the grocery store or the animal shelter or along the city streets. She wouldn’t be able to hear his easy laugh or his dry humor. She would miss him, the same way she missed seeing the sun rise each morning. He’d become a cherished part of her life.
“Here’s your phone.” He placed the iPhone in her hand. “When’s the singing supposed to start?”
“Now,” Jack said before she could answer. “Otherwise the next band’s going to get on stage.”
“Jeez, Jack.” She lifted her water glass, trying to soak away her nerves.
“Don’t blame me if the crowd gets hostile. People are here because of you.” Jack tapped her wrist. “Performers get free food. How about I give those potato skins to Tony, and I make you a fresh burger after you sing. How’s that sound?”
“Holy, crap, Jack. You sure know how to heap on the pressure.”
Pressure. She didn’t like pressure. She never performed well under pressure. A warm hand covered hers just as her mind began to implode.
“Relax. You got this,” Joey said, releasing the emergency valve and reminding her to be brave enough to fill the emptiness in her life with good things, positive things, fun things.
“I’d better warm up,” she finally managed to squeeze out, pushing her untouched hamburger aside.
She made her way down to the end of the bar and stage. A mixture of encouraging voices, shouts, and good wishes followed her. A few hands reached out to pat her on the back as she walked by.
Opening her guitar case, she rediscovered the solid grounding music provided. Music. A place she could always go, no matter what life demanded. A quietness of mind descended. The noise of the crowd, the negative voices in her head—everything—became tranquil.
Kym appeared at her elbow. “There’s a mic and a barstool on stage, just like you requested.”
“Thank you.”
With her guitar in hand, Mara lifted to her toes and slid onto the barstool, settled back and adjusted the mic. Strumming a few cords, she adjusted the tension on the strings, letting the remaining rigidity in her body slide away.
Relax. You can do this.
The images of her parents and sister appeared, then Joey, moody boy who didn’t smile often. She wanted to sing to that boy, the one who’d become her friend, a kind and gracious man.
“Hi, everyone. Thanks for joining me to celebrate tonight. Most of you know about the car accident that took my parents and sister six years ago. However, five years ago today, the doctors finally released me from physical therapy. After the accident, the doctors told me I might never walk again, but here I am, walking onstage.”
Whoops and hollers filled the room. Embarrassment made her blink and blush. “Thank you. I hope you like what I picked for y‘all. This first one is for you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Gorgeous. Joey couldn’t be more in awe of Mara.
She sat onstage, spine straight, chin lifted. Right there. There was the sparkle he’d been waiting to see. That glimmer of transcendence he saw back in high school when she took the stage for the talent contest. Singing made her sparkle like the North Star.
After the first line of the song, the audience grew silent, stunned by her talent. Joey already knew how well Mara could sing, but wow, his jaw still dropped open. Hello, lady. Gone was the unsure adolescent voice, replaced with the rich, sexy,
full range of the woman.
He loved the song choice, and obviously, so did the rest of the audience. In fact, he loved everything. The way her hair framed her face, the way her body expressed the song, the way her skin glowed in the stage lights. If she could only see the crowd, she would know her full effect. Then again, seeing all the familiar faces might make her more nervous. The song beat thrummed, bounced and weaved through the audience.
“Impressive,” a familiar voice said close to his ear.
“Ma? Pia? What are you doing here?”
Pia gave him a friendly shove. “Scoot around. Franco’s parking the car. One of the regulars at the restaurant said Mara would be here tonight. I figured that’s why you suddenly had plans. We don’t often take a night off. A night on the town sounded fun. We wanted to give Mara our support.”
Maybe Sam’s death provided his family a new perspective after all. Never had his family been so supportive of anything he cared about.
His mother gave him a hug around the waist. “A mother knows her son’s heart.”
That transparent?
“Where are the kids?” he asked.
Pia pulled out a chair when Franco arrived. “A babysitter’s watching the kids. Camilla’s watching the restaurant. She said to tell you she’s sorry that she’s been so distant lately.”
A young waitress, barely keeping her tray horizontal, slid four beers onto the high-top table.
Pia tapped his forearm. “One of those is for you.”
He stared at the amber-filled glass and then at his mother.
“What?” She sat up a bit taller and pushed her shoulders back. “Don’t give me the hairy eyeball. After I’ve raised five kids, I believe I deserve a beer.”
“It’s not that. I’ve just never seen you drink casually.”
“You raise five kids and see if there’s room in your budget for indulgences. Then you can judge.”
He wasn’t judging. In fact, he liked seeing the softer side of the dragon. “Speaking of kids. I’ve been meaning to ask. Sam’s property is in a nice area. Will it need to be sold?” In other words, how did he afford it in the first place?
The sudden sadness in his mother’s eyes made him loathe the question, but he had to ask.
“Sam purchased the property in a tax sale, then worked with a local building contractor to bring the place up to code, although your brother did most of the work. He spent every spare moment he could on that house.” The sorrow etched into her eyes and mouth deepened. “You should know your brother left the house to you.”
“Me? Why me?”
“I think it was his way of tying you to Elkridge. Secretly, he was hoping you’d come home one day. You should know Camilla wanted to take over the loan payments before we found Sam’s will. You might have gotten some backlash from her disappointment the past few days.”
So that’s why she’s been a little testy. “I’ll talk to her before I leave. The house is hers if she wants it. I don’t need a house or anything other than family to bring me home.”
His mother’s hand covered his, just as Mara’s final chord strummed. The crowd erupted with whistles and shouts of support.
“Thank you.” Mara strummed her fingers along the strings, adjusting the pitch. “Thank you very much. This next song is one of my favorites. I think you’ll understand why.”
She closed her eyes and her body began to sway, her hand poised. The strings hummed along. Joey’s body was ensnared by the rhythm as he tried to determine the tune. Then he knew. Her parents. The chorus to “One Moment More” filled the room. Mindy Smith would have been proud of Mara’s rendition. Intense emotion made Mara’s vocals gritty, especially when she pleaded for her parents not to go, to wait, to give her another moment more.
The image she created. The tender ache of loss.
He understood. Sam. He was gone.
The tender spot was still fresh. Did he believe he would see his brother again? His mother’s hand reached for his under the table, as her other hand dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled handkerchief.
His sister wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulders while she reached for the tissue packet in her purse.
Joey leaned closer to his mother. “Love you, Ma.”
She placed a hand on his cheek. “You’re a good boy, Joey. A mother doesn’t have favorites, but if I did, it would be you. You’re the only one I didn’t have to worry about. You always knew what you wanted, and you made a plan to get it.”
Favorite? Was that true? All his life he’d struggled while watching his siblings get more than their fair share of attention. Until today, he’d resented the fact.
“But you’re disappointed I’m not staying.”
“Disappointed in you? No. I’m disappointed for us. You’re a natural leader, Joey. People trust you. Look to you for guidance. This town needs someone like you.”
“But I thought—”
“Always the thinker. You go, Joey. Be happy. All a mother wants is her children to be happy and healthy.”
Mara’s song drifted toward a slow conclusion. She couldn’t see, but he swore the woman on the stage looked straight at him as she finished the last line.
The smart woman was right. Your parents seem proud of you not for the position or the title of your job, but the fact that you are giving back to your community. Go figure.
He had to leave. The ache of leaving family, leaving her, finally sank in.
The crowd grew silent. No one moved. Mesmerized, like he was. Looking at her. So beautiful. So brave and confident. The sexiest woman in the room with her fitted cotton shirt. Jeans hugged her slender figure. Maroon clogs hinged over the bottom rung of the chair, keeping the beat.
Finally, the crowd let her know how much her song meant. The roar of the place grew louder and louder, a few people even standing to show their appreciation.
God, he wished she could see the effect she had on people.
“Thank you,” Mara said into the microphone. “I appreciate you coming to hear me tonight. I have one more song before Jack kicks me off the stage.”
Someone booed, and several people in the crowd laughed, and she lit the stage with her smile. The urge to take her somewhere to make love all night grew. But he couldn’t go there. He was leaving tomorrow, and she’d think he just wanted sex. That’s the last thing he’d want her to think about their special bond.
“Given this is my five-year anniversary, I can see my future a bit more clearly, and I’m looking forward to knowing there are blue skies ahead.”
Strumming the opening notes to I Can See Clearly Now, he celebrated her song choice. That’s the way, Mara. Your rain is surely gone.
“What are you smiling about?” Pia asked.
“Look around the room. I’ve only ever known one person who gives more than she takes. Look at her.”
“That’s just because you’re in love with her.”
He tore his gaze from Mara to look at Pia. “You may be right. I think I’ve loved her all my life.”
“You’re just now figuring that out, Joey?” his mother chastised, yet in a kind, teasing tone of voice. “I thought I raised you smarter than that.”
When Mara’s last song ended, he stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. “Thanks for coming.” He let his sincerity soak in before he continued, “I’m going to see if Mara wants to walk home.”
The looks he got from Pia and Franco he would accept because they were probably thinking the same thing. He’s a goner.
Hanging back, he let the congratulators have their moment, because he wanted to steal all the rest of her moments. His intention had been to hang out at the bar, listen to the next band play, find more clues, but those ideas drifted away. The tired glaze starting to shutter her eyes made him change plans.
What if he changed his plans? Mara certainly didn’t need him to prove anything. He’d already proven to himself that he was capable. He didn’t need to prove his worth to anyone else.
At last he re
ached the front of the line. “You were amazing.”
“I did it. I actually sang on stage.” Mara reached out, and he placed a hand in hers. “You saying that means a lot.”
“Hungry? You only ate a little.”
It was only a little past nine, and he wanted to stay with her as long as possible. All night, if she’d let him just to hold her until he had to go.
“I asked Jack to make me a burger to go. I shouldn’t have let my nerves consume all my energy. When the excitement wears off, I think I’ll want to crash. It’s best we say goodbye here.”
Desperate to hold onto the moment, he loosened his grip finger by finger, letting go of the disappointment. “Next time you sing, it’ll be easier.” The conviction in his voice belied the depression that suddenly swamped him.
“I don’t plan on there being a next time. I don’t have a music sheet put together for any more sessions.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to do the one-and-done thing.” The push of a strand of hair behind her ear, and her nervous laugh gave him insight. “Seriously? Music is part of who you are, Mara.”
“Yes, but you and Kym are the only ones who know that. Let’s keep it a secret among friends.”
Friends? He didn’t want to be her friend. Not true. He did, but he wanted to be much more. A sudden stir of activity across the room drew his attention.
Mara sensed the distraction. “What’s going on?”
About to check, Joey paused when Kym came racing across the room and slid to a stop. “It’s time.”
“Are you ready to leave?” Mara tilted her head, a soft relief spreading across her face. “Good, me too.”
“No! It’s delivery time. You’re going to be an aunt.”
“Gina is not due for a couple more weeks.” Mara stood and took a step back at the same time…and about fell off the stage. “Don’t let them go yet. Please, help me get to Gina. And tell that knucklehead brother of mine to get the van.”
Not liking the dismay in Mara’s features, Joey decided to take over and lifted her into his arms. “Hang on tight.” He plowed his way through bodies. “Coming through, folks.”