The Day Before

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The Day Before Page 8

by Lisa Schroeder


  I sigh as I run

  my fingers through my

  messy, sandy hair.

  “Just come home. Please?”

  “You’re not gonna win this one, Kel.

  I’m sorry.

  Tell them I’m fine, all right?

  And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She sniffles.

  “Love you, Jelly.”

  “Love you too, Kelly Belly.

  I gotta go.”

  I hang up,

  my heart racing,

  the back of my neck sweaty.

  “Hey, Amber?”

  Cade knocks.

  “You okay?”

  “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Cade’s words echo

  in my head.

  I bet others would say screw it,

  and just not go back.

  Six months ago

  Dear Amber,

  Like I told you when you were ten, you can tell me anything, ask me anything, even if you have to write it down.

  Here’s what you have to remember—you are a strong girl. I admire you and your strength. Look at how you helped your sister, and even me at times, through the divorce. You have such a good head on your shoulders.

  You can do this. You can! And you know we’ll be right by your side doing everything we can to help you through this.

  Although you will have to leave the things and people you love, you’ll always come back to them. You aren’t losing us, sweetheart. I know it may feel that way, but you’re not losing us! We can talk every day on the phone, we can do Skype chats, I’ll even come down a couple of times and spend the weekend with you. I’ve already checked with Allen and Jeanie, and they said they wouldn’t have any problem with that.

  We must stick together and adjust to this big change.

  Thank you for letting me know how you feel. I’m always here for you—don’t ever forget that. No matter where you are, I’m here for you.

  I love you,

  Mom

  more surprises

  Back at the table,

  I want to put everything

  out of my mind

  except for Cade.

  While we wait for food to come,

  we stick to safe

  topics of conversation.

  Our favorite seafood—

  him: lobster

  me: crab

  What we like to read—

  him: graphic novels

  me: realistic fiction

  Our pets—

  him: a dog named Boo

  me: a cat named Tiny

  How said pets got their names—

  him: white like a ghost

  me: the fattest cat you’ve ever seen

  How many girlfriends/boyfriends we’ve had—

  him: two

  me: one (although I don’t tell him it was one

  of those fake fifth-grade romances)

  Whether we are attached at the moment—

  him: no

  me: no

  And then we get

  quiet.

  Luckily the waiter

  brings our food.

  Steak and lobster.

  “Uh, this is your usual?” I ask.

  “My mom’s a vegetarian.

  I can’t eat like this at home.

  Plus, my older brother owns the place.”

  “Family discount, then?”

  He smiles.

  “Thanks.

  For bringing me here.”

  As if on cue,

  music starts to play.

  It sounds like it’s coming

  from upstairs.

  I take my knife and fork

  and tap out the beat

  on the table.

  It makes him laugh.

  “I had a feeling you might like it here.”

  And I have a feeling,

  as the drumbeats

  get louder,

  that he is exactly right.

  where I belong

  Bellies full

  of surf and turf

  and spirits tired

  of trying too hard

  to keep things simple,

  we head upstairs.

  A small crowd

  has gathered

  to listen to the band.

  The loud, fast music

  with a hard edge

  comes at us,

  and I feel it

  slicing

  us

  wide open.

  They want us

  to feel the loudness,

  not just hear it.

  And people do,

  raising their fists

  in the air,

  punch,

  punch,

  punching it out,

  showing the band

  they’re with them

  all the way.

  It’s not the best

  music in the world,

  and who knows

  what the hell

  the lyrics are,

  but right now,

  loud works.

  I watch the drummer

  and focus on

  the rhythm he plays.

  He pounds out

  the beats

  with purpose,

  and my arms ache

  to make some noise.

  Cade leans in,

  yells in my ear,

  “Do you want to play?”

  “What? With them?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I know them.

  They’re cool.”

  They finish the song and the

  lead singer bends down

  to grab his drink.

  “But I don’t know their songs.”

  “I bet you can find something.”

  I can’t deny it. I’d love to play.

  Still, I try to keep it cool.

  “Sure. If they’re up for it.”

  He runs up onstage and

  I see him talking

  and pointing at me.

  It’s not long before

  I’m onstage, Cade

  introducing me

  to the band members,

  Martin, Chase, and Henry.

  “How about some White Stripes?” I ask.

  “Seven Nation Army?” Henry suggests.

  I nod.

  Awesome.

  The drummer, Chase,

  jumps offstage and heads

  for the bar.

  I sit down.

  I raise my arms in the air.

  And before I know it,

  there is nothing in this

  world except me

  and the rhythm

  and the music

  and the display of fists

  telling me that right now,

  everything is exactly

  how it should be.

  music is such an aphrodisiac

  It’s the release

  I needed.

  I play like a girl

  possessed.

  The boys offer me

  the gift of

  a solo, so I take it,

  open it up,

  and make it mine.

  All mine.

  When we’re through,

  the crowd yells

  and I take a bow,

  gratitude dripping

  off of me.

  I give my temporary

  bandmates a wave

  and jump down

  into Cade’s arms.

  He spins me around

  saying words like

  “amazing” and

  “incredible.”

  And I think to myself,

  Yes you are,

  yes you are,

  yes you are,

  yes you are,

  yes you are.

  take me there

  Henry tells the

  expanding crowd

  the band is taking a break

  and will be back in ten.

  Cade disappears

  for a minute,
<
br />   then comes back

  with a guitar.

  When he takes the stage,

  I can feel him taking

  my soul

  right along

  with him.

  He looks over at me.

  “This one’s for you.”

  “Blue sky,

  sun on skin.

  Open road,

  take it in.

  It’s this feeling I get

  that I can’t seem to find

  except when I let

  all the worries unwind

  when you’re there by my side.

  When you won’t let me hide.

  Let’s go for a ride.

  Hand in hand,

  feelings sincere.

  All we need

  we’ll find right here.”

  His voice, smooth as

  water, washes over me.

  And I am there,

  on that road, the sun

  warm on my skin,

  and a feeling

  of happy anticipation

  fills me.

  And when it’s over,

  tears fill my eyes

  because it’s not

  the road that I’m on.

  And I want it to be.

  God, how I want it to be.

  One month ago

  Dear Amber,

  We are starting to get things ready for your arrival.

  We’re converting the guest room into your bedroom. We’ll provide the basics for now, and once you get here, I’ll take you shopping so you can decorate any way you’d like.

  Allen insisted you have a bookcase so you can fill it with books. When we met you in the attorney’s office, you said you liked to read, and Allen remembered that. If you have some specific titles you’d like him to get for you, please drop him a note. He’d be more than happy to have them waiting for you.

  We’re both getting so excited to have you here! Can’t believe, after all this time, you’ll be joining us soon.

  Is there anything you’d like me to know about food preferences, allergies, etc. before you arrive? Otherwise, we’ll figure it all out when you get here.

  Love,

  Jeanie and Allen

  me and you

  When Cade rejoins me,

  he sees that I’ve gone

  from elation to devastation

  in the strum of a chord,

  and I can tell it hurts him.

  “It’s not you,” I tell him

  as he pulls me into a corner.

  “You were great.

  You are great.

  Too great, really.”

  He wipes away a tear

  so gently

  it’s like an invitation

  for more to fall.

  But I close my eyes

  and force them back

  because he doesn’t need that.

  And then,

  in the moment

  of wishing away tears

  and wanting to live

  in his song,

  his lips touch mine.

  It’s a soft kiss at first,

  tender like he is,

  and then stronger

  as we pull

  each other closer,

  wanting to push

  everything else away

  except

  this.

  the feeling’s mutual

  My emotions

  are on a

  bungee chord.

  Plummeting

  one minute and

  rebounding the next.

  When he pulls away,

  he whispers, “Better?”

  I smile.

  “Much.”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  He takes my hand

  and holds it

  like he owns it.

  And as we leave,

  I realize for the

  first time

  in a long time

  I’m not secretly scared

  by someone wanting

  to be with me,

  but instead

  so very grateful

  for it.

  so much goodness

  Outside,

  the night has

  gotten colder,

  but I embrace it

  like an old friend.

  It feels good.

  Suddenly

  everything

  feels

  good.

  We walk to the

  grocery store

  on the corner.

  “Did you see that movie?” I ask.

  “Although, the book was better.”

  From his face,

  I can tell

  he has no clue.

  It’s not really obvious.

  So I tell him.

  “Nick and Norah.

  The night in New York City?

  It feels a little like that.

  Except not as cool.”

  “Yeah,” he says

  as we head for the

  school supply section.

  “I’m not cool.

  Not like you, drummer girl.”

  “You are too cool.”

  I pause. “Castle boy.”

  He laughs.

  “Sounds like a bad boy band.

  Introducing the Castle Boys!”

  I grab

  a small container

  of glitter.

  Because this day,

  this wonderful,

  beautiful,

  glorious day,

  just wouldn’t be complete

  without a little,

  or a lot, of

  a dream come true

  Our next stop

  is a part of town

  I’m not familiar with.

  Cade parks on a street,

  near the beach,

  in front of a row

  of small houses,

  and while I admire

  the hazy moon,

  he gathers everything

  we need from the

  trunk of his car.

  Apparently that

  consists of a blanket,

  a flashlight, a bottle of water,

  and a hat, which he hands to me.

  His concern for

  my well-being

  makes my heart

  pound out a rockin’ solo

  inside my chest.

  We walk down to the beach,

  and he lays out the blanket

  near a hole in the sand

  that contains a log

  with glowing embers.

  I’m thinking about

  me and him

  and a fire

  and a blanket.

  And then I’m yelling,

  “Wait!”

  because maybe

  I’m a tiny bit nervous

  about me and him

  and a fire

  and a blanket.

  He jumps back.

  “Sorry.

  I thought maybe we could

  throw the glitter first.”

  “Okay, then.

  Let’s do it.”

  I take the bottle

  of glitter and pour

  some in my hand

  and some in his.

  “Should we do something first?” I ask.

  “Yes. Close our mouths.”

  “No, I mean, make a wish or something?”

  “Okay.

  Out loud or to ourselves?”

  “To ourselves.”

  So, quietly, we wish,

  and when I think it’s been

  sufficient wishing time,

  I say, “Ready. Set.

  No—stop, it’s too dark.

  I have to get the flashlight.”

  I hold the flashlight

  above my head and shine

  it on him like a spotlight.

  “You first, Cade.

  Ready, set, go!”

  His hand flies up

  and sparkles
rain down on him.

  He spins around,

  pretending to be a ballerina

  dancing in the glitter,

  and it makes me laugh.

  “My turn.”

  He takes the flashlight

  and places me in

  the spotlight this time.

  I toss the glitter

  and hold my hands out,

  trying to catch some

  like a child tries to catch

  snowflakes.

  For a moment

  the air is pretty,

  sparkly,

  and full of wonder.

  But in a breath,

  it’s over.

  He flicks off the light,

  leaving us in darkness.

  “Was it as thrilling as you thought?”

  “It was over too soon,” I whisper.

  He cups my face

  with both hands,

  leans in,

  eyes lingering a

  sweet second

  before his lips

  are there on mine,

  teasing,

  playing,

  tasting,

  kissing.

  When he pulls away,

  I’m breathless.

  He nuzzles my ear.

  “Now that’s thrilling.”

  You got that right.

  kissing

  Lips on lips,

  feel the heat.

  Silky soft,

  honey sweet.

  Stay right here,

  feed me more.

  Lips on lips,

  like never before.

  wrap me up

  I shiver.

  He pulls away.

  “Are you cold?” he asks.

  “A little.

 

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