Love Notes

by Michelle Windsor

  “Has Sydney been around?” I fiddle with the sunglasses in my hands. I can’t believe it’s been almost two years and she’s never called me.

  She shakes her head and lets out a long breath, and for the first time, I actually see something in her attitude toward me shift. She frowns. “She doesn’t live here anymore. You know that, right?”

  “I didn’t know, actually. I don’t know anything. All I know is she cut off all ties to me after I missed your wedding.” I shrug, hoping she’ll give me more information if I don’t try to pry so hard from her.

  “There’s a big part of me that really wants to tell you, Justin.”

  “But?” I know there’s a but coming by the sad look on her face. Or maybe it’s pity. I’m not sure, but I know it’s no longer anger.

  “But she would kill me. If she wants to see you, she’ll find you. It’s not like it’s that difficult.”

  “Does she want to see me?” I grasp at any piece of hope I might be able to get.

  She shifts her feet and shrugs again. “I honestly don’t know, but between you and me, I wish she would. I’m tired of being the one you have to come to every time you want to find her.”

  And there’s the girl I know so well, back again to make me feel so good about myself. I roll my eyes and then pull an envelope out of my back pocket. “Will you give this to her whenever you see her again?”

  She looks at it, snags it out of my hand, and walks over to the bar, placing it on the counter.

  “Don’t lose it, okay? It’s important.” I stress, concerned that she’s just leaving it up on the bar.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it,” she says dismissively. She turns her head toward the back of the room as a cry sounds out, then darts her eyes back to me. My eyes move in the direction of the crying and open wide when I see a baby nestled in a swing in the back corner.

  “Kelly, you have a baby?” I grin in surprise. “In a bar?”

  “Shut up, Justin.” She scurries to where the baby is and pulls it gently from the swing, cooing as she does. I’m stunned into silence, watching Kelly actually be loving and kind to the little bundle in her arms. I walk closer so I can get a look as she rocks it back and forth in her arms.

  I smile when I see the round head full of short, curly blonde locks and bright blue eyes staring back at me, a wet, slippery thumb making its way in and out of the baby’s mouth. I reach out with my finger and laugh when the little hand catches it and clings on with a firm grip. “Why, Kelly, I’m shocked you made something this cute! What’s the little monster’s name?”

  She looks over at me, sticking her tongue out but with laughter in her eyes. “We call her Tini. She was born five weeks early and was only five pounds, and the teeny, tiniest thing you ever did see.”

  “She’s beautiful.” She’s still got a death grip on my finger, but I enjoy every second of her hold on me. “She’s gonna be a heartbreaker. Look at those eyes!” I look up at Kelly, who’s staring at me, like a deer caught in the head lights. I frown and then look back at the baby, cooing softly to her.

  “Do you want to hold her?” The question comes out as a surprise, as if she can’t believe I actually like babies.

  “Can I?” I ask excitedly, already sliding my sunglasses into my shirt pocket, freeing up my other hand so I can take her. She hands her over to me, looking a little nervous as she does, and steps back, keeping her eyes glued to both of us.

  I’m in complete awe as Tini stares back at me, beautiful lids covered in long lashes blinking as she tilts her head as if trying to decipher who I am. I smile back at her and begin gently rocking her and then humming. She gurgles back at me and smiles, I think in approval of the music, so I sing softly to her.

  “Can’t tell if you’re eyeing me the irony it gets to me

  tape my mouth and lie to me I can’t speak

  And I drink before you calm down the nerves

  Why can’t I just be myself around her

  In your arms I feel safe

  But you try to keep me awake

  then I go and sleep tight.”

  * * *

  “ UGH, JUSTIN, REALLY?” I lift my head and look questioningly at Kell.

  “I know it went to number one and all, but it’s the song you stole from her!” She places her hand on her hip and gives me a look that says, ‘duh’.

  “And every time I sing it, it reminds me what it felt like when she was in my arms,” I state it flatly, and then turn my attention back to the baby, continuing to sing the song where I left off. When I finish, I raise my head and see Kelly holding her phone up. I lift my eyebrow suspiciously as she shifts it down quickly.

  “She really is a beauty, Kell. Congrats to you and Adam.” I walk back and transfer the baby from my arms to her. “How old is she?”

  “Just a little over a year,” she answers between coos to the baby.

  “Honeymoon baby, huh?” I wink at her playfully.

  “Yeah, I guess.” She looks at me again, her eyes boring into mine, making me feel uncomfortable, so I take it as my queue to leave.

  I pull the sunglasses from my pocket, sliding them on, and start for the door. “It was,” I pause for a minute, thinking of the right word to use, “interesting to see you, Kell.”

  “Yeah, that’s one word for it,” she retorts, a short laugh following.

  I turn back to her before I pull the door open. “Kell? Will you tell her I kept my old cell? I never turn it off. If she wants to call.”

  She nods her head once, and I turn and walk out of the bar.

  * * *

  I TAKE a deep breath and push through the door of Hook’s Landing, dreading the conversation I need to have with Kelly. I know she’s going to be more upset than I am, and dealing with an emotional Kelly is never fun.

  “Hey, I’m back,” I call out, seeing no one in the front area of the bar. I look at my watch and note the time; just after two-thirty.

  “Back here! I’m changing Tini,” she calls from the bathroom. “Be right out. Almost done!”

  I walk over to the bar and plop myself on a stool, throwing my purse down on the bar. I’m so tired. Physically, mentally, more than I know if I can handle tired. I scrub my hands over my face and force a smile when I hear Kelly’s footsteps coming down the hallway from the bathrooms. She’s holding a smiling Tini, and I get up quickly to greet them.

  “How’s my little angel?” I take her from Kelly’s arms and snuggle her against me as her tiny arms wrap around my neck.

  “Mamma!” she squeals.

  “Yes, Mommy’s back.” I shift her so I can see her round little face and plant kisses all over her cheeks, giggles pouring from her cherub lips as I do. God, I love this little girl. I glance over and stop when I see Kelly staring wide-eyed at me. “What?”

  “Okay, I have to tell you something, but I don’t want you to freak out, but I know you’re going to, so now I’m freaking out.”

  “Jesus Christ on a cracker, Kelly. Just spit it out already.” Great, just what I needed, more good news today.

  “Justin was here. Like, he literally just left ten minutes ago. I was shitting my pants, praying you didn’t come back while he was here,” she blurts out, her face getting pinker as she does.

  I reach blindly for a chair, needing to sit down immediately as my legs turn to jelly, and drop into it, resting the baby on my lap. “Did he see Tini?” It’s the first thought that races through my mind.

  She nods her head violently, wringing her hands together. “Uh-huh, but don’t worry! He thought she was mine.”

  Holy shit. I’ve been wondering if this day would actually come, and now that it has, I wasn’t even here for it. I swing my head back to her. “What did he want?”

  “Well, you. He was looking for you. And for crying out loud, he was so pathetic, I actually felt sorry for him and wanted to tell him everything.”

  My eyes fly to hers, wide.

  “No! No! Don’t worry, I didn’t.” She walks over to the bar, grabs
something off it, and then hands it to me. “He told me to give this to you.” She hands me an envelope and then frowns. “Syd, do you think maybe it’s time you called him? I mean, he’s here! That has to mean something. And, I mean, you had his baby!”

  I glare back at her, mostly angry because I’ve asked myself these very same questions a hundred times in the last year. “He made his choice, Kelly. I’m just giving him what he wants.” I turn back to the envelope, my name scribbled across the front in his handwriting, and lift the baby, handing her off to Kelly. I rip it open and pull out… a check? I read it and gasp when I see the amount and then look up at Kell. “This is a check for five-hundred-thousand dollars! Made out to me!”

  Kelly snatches it out of my hand, reading it for herself, her mouth falling open as she scans the front and the back, the baby bouncing on her hip. “Shut up! This is half a million freaking dollars, Syd!”

  I snatch the check out of her hand and read the fine print under the note section on the front of the paper: ‘Songwriting Royalties.’ He came to pay me for the songs he stole. Okay, he stole them originally, but then I told him he could have them, but he said he wasn’t going to use them, but then he did anyway. I place the check on the table. “I don’t want this.”

  “Sydney, it’s a lot of money. What do you mean, you don’t want it? They were your words. You deserve it.”

  I shake my head and then stand, taking Tini out of Kelly’s arms, focusing my attention on her instead. “Have you eaten yet, little munchkin?”

  I laugh when her head bops up and down, a small, toothy grin lighting up her face as she says, “Yummies!” It’s her word for anything food related. I find the diaper bag in the back and pull a cookie out for her to munch on, her greedy hands latching onto it hungrily before she starts sucking on it.

  “So, are you going to tell me what the doctor said?” She plops down in the chair beside me, finally broaching the subject we both have been trying to avoid.

  I look over at her and try to smile bravely, even as a tear escapes down my cheek, and I nod. “I have to start chemo next week. She said they got the tumors, but it looks like it’s spread to some of my lymph nodes so this is the best way to attack it.”

  She clutches onto my hand, tears falling onto her cheeks now. “You know we’re going to beat this, right? Treatments are so much more advanced than when your mom had it.”

  I nod my head, thankful for her friendship and support, and look down at the little girl in my lap, and know, more than anything, I need to fight for her.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  ANOTHER TWO YEARS LATER

  I stroll off the stage, giving one final wave and bow before I do, grabbing the bottle of water being handed to me by my manager as I pass. It’s the last show of my tour, and the crowd was insane. I normally only do one encore, but because it’s the final show, I did two. My shirt is soaked from the heat of the lighting, my throat dry, and I laugh at the irony as I guzzle the water.

  “You want me to take the guitar, Justin?” It’s my manager, Greg, following closely behind me as I descend the stairs off the back part of the stage.

  I tighten my grip around the neck of the Martin and shake my head. “I’ve got it.” I use it every night to play the last song of my set, “In Your Arms.” It’s her song, and I only play it on her guitar, which I don’t let anyone else handle but me. Even though Greg knows this, he still asks me after every damn show if I want him to take the guitar.

  Feeling beaten down, I’m so fucking glad this tour is over. I’ve been on the road for three hundred of the last three hundred and sixty-five days. Too Goddamn long. I haven’t been able to write a single song, get a decent night’s sleep, or see my family in over eighteen months. Sure, everyone on the road claims to be your best friend, but hell, they’re just along for the ride. It’s a fucking roller coaster is what it is. More dips and turns over the last twelve months than I can even remember.

  I miss the days when I could walk into a bar, plug my guitar into an amp, and just sing whatever I wanted. No one grabbing at me and screaming for me to play the same song I’ve already played ten thousand times. No crazy fans sneaking into my room and even my bed some nights. Okay, not going to lie; sometimes, the girls were a needed relief, but no one’s ever going to hold a candle or replace the only girl that’s ever stolen my heart. I grimace at the thought of her, pain still rippling through my chest every time I do.

  “Justin!” I hear my name being called like it is every night I walk down one of these hallways after a show, but this one has me freezing in my tracks. I whip my head in the direction it came, unable to hide my surprise when I see Sydney standing behind the roped off section of the hallway.

  I do a double-take to make sure it’s her. It was definitely her voice, but the hair is much shorter. This girl is much thinner than the Sydney I remember. Maybe I’m losing my mind and thinking about her is doing funny things to my head. I stare at her, and she stares back at me before a nervous smile spreads across her mouth and she gives me a short wave. Holy shit. It’s her. It’s really her.

  For the first time, ever, I absentmindedly hand my guitar to Greg and float over to where she’s standing. “Sydney?”

  She nods her head, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, her cheeks flaring the light pink I remember so well, and I think my heart is going to explode out of my chest. I haven’t seen her in almost four years. “What are you doing here?” I realize that sounds like I don’t want her here, so I quickly follow it up with, “I mean, I’m thrilled to see you, but I’m just surprised!”

  Before she can answer, fans realize I’m standing next to the ropes and begin to swarm the area, pushing and shoving her as they do. I reach under the rope and grab her hand, telling security it’s fine, and pull her under and up against me. When I feel the outline of her ribs against my hand where I’m holding her, I look down at her in shock. Is she fucking starving herself to death?

  I release my hold on her body and grab her hand instead, pulling her with me as I walk quickly. “Come with me.” She follows beside me, almost having to jog to keep up with my fast pace. I feel her pull my hand and turn to look at her. She’s red and sweating.

  “Can you go a little slower, please?” She’s panting and I nod, surprise washing over me again.

  “Sure, sorry.” I walk slower, watching to make sure she’s catching her breath. “I’ve gotten good at running from rabid fans.”

  She nods and gives me a forced smile. Shit. Why’d I go and say something stupid like that? She doesn’t want to hear about my damn fans. We finally make it to my dressing room, security opening the door as I approach, and I usher her inside before turning to lock the door. Without any thought, I turn again and plunge forward, wrapping her in my arms, a feeling of relief to finally have her there again spreading over me. “Sydney, Sydney, Sydney.” I keep saying her name, I think to try to make myself believe she’s really here. “I’ve missed you so much. So much.”

  Her head is nodding against me, and she’s murmuring the same, her grip tight around my waist. We stay like this for several minutes; five, ten, fifteen? I’m not sure. I just know I don’t want to let go of her. I’m so afraid she’s going to leave again. She releases her grip around my waist first, gently pushing herself away from my body. She seems to sway once she’s standing on her own, and I reach out and place my hand on her shoulder to steady her.

  “You okay? You want to sit down?” I ask, concern lacing my voice.

  She nods and moves to one of the couches scattered around the room. Someone pounds on the door, and I scowl. I don’t want anyone bothering me right now; I don’t care if the damn president is at the door. I tell her to wait for a second and storm to the door, yanking it open. “What?” I practically growl. I’ve never brought a woman into my damn dressing room, so I would think it would be obvious to anyone something important is happening.

  Greg throws his hands up in the air as he takes a step back. “Whoa, d
own boy! Just want to see if you need anything!”

  “Yes, I need everyone to leave me the fuck alone. Got it?” I slam the door, locking it again, and then sit beside her. I scan her from head to toe, taking in every inch of her, noting the new short hair, the way the bones jut from her collarbone, her legs—which were once so muscular but now look spaghetti thin in the tights she has on—and her lips. Her beautiful puffy pink lips are now thin and dry looking. I reach my hand out and swipe a finger tenderly over them, my eyes meeting hers, tears brimming at the edges.

  I move my fingers and brush under her barely-there lashes. “Don’t cry, baby. Please, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay.”

  * * *

  I SHAKE my head and then wrap my small hands around his large one on my face, pulling it down into my lap, and give him a sad smile. “It’s not, Justin.” I take a deep breath and say what I’ve come to tell him. “I’m sick.”

  His grip tightens underneath mine as his expression turns to confusion. His eyes scan over my body again, and finally, realization dawns in them. “What?”

  I squeeze his hands again, needing something to hold on to as I say the words again, knowing that saying them to him will be hardest of all. “I’m sick.”

  He tilts his head, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he tries to absorb what I’m saying, and repeats me. “You’re sick?”

  I nod my head and lift one of my hands as I scoot closer to him and place it on his knee. Here comes the big one. “I have cancer.”

  He blinks several times, his expression stoic, then pulls his hand out of mine and stands. “Do you want a water? Or a drink?” He walks over to the small bar at one end of the room and starts rummaging through the bottles until he finds what he’s looking for. “I need a drink.” I watch calmly as he pours a large amount of Macallan into a glass and drinks it down in two gulps, then pours another, his hand shaking as he does.