Pieces of Love

by PJ Sharon

  I pushed through the smoky glass doors of the lounge and saw Tommy in deep discussion with a gray haired man with a sharp nose and cool eyes, his white suit pressed and starched to match his expression. I waited until the two parted and Tommy was left standing beside his piano, his face pale.

  “What’s up?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  Tommy croaked out, “I’ve got laryngitis.” He lowered onto the piano bench. “I was just explaining to my boss, Mr. Owens, I’d be able to play tonight, but I can’t sing.”

  “You look like you should be in bed.”

  Glassy, fatigued brown eyes stared back at me. “The show must go on,” he said with a weak smile. Then his face lit up. “I have an idea.”

  I knew from his expression I wasn’t going to like what was coming.

  “You could sing for me. You know all my songs by now. I’ve seen you singing to them in the crowd.”

  “No way...I can’t...I just can’t,” I said with finality before he could go on trying to persuade me. Sweat broke out on my neck.

  “Sure you can, kid.” Tommy rasped.

  I winced in sympathy. “No. I can’t.” I folded my arms across my chest.

  He patted the seat beside him. Reluctantly, I settled onto the bench. He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “I used to be like you. I thought people would laugh at me when I performed. Worse, I thought they would either hate my music or ignore me. Or...they might see inside the place where my deepest thoughts and feelings are held.” He patted a hand over his heart and eyed me as if reading my mind and knowing he’d hit the nail on the head.

  “I guess maybe I’m a little afraid of all of those things.”

  “Much worse has happened to me at one time or another. Don’t make me tell you about the rotten tomatoes.” His voice cracked and he coughed as he laughed. “But you know what?” He winked as I gave him a sideways glance. “It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks. I play because I love to play. Music comes from the heart and soul of a person and it’s meant to be shared. It’s how some of us connect to the world. Think about how empty life would be if no one sang or played music because they were afraid of being seen.” He faced me and laid a hand on my shoulder. “You have real talent, Lexi. You sing like a songbird.” His brilliantly white grin widened.

  My cheeks warmed and I considered his argument for a minute. “So how did you get over it?”

  He rubbed a hand along his dark, well-groomed beard. “If I look out at the crowd and see one person smiling and enjoying themselves, that’s the person I’m playing for.”

  Still unconvinced, I shook my head and let out a long sigh.

  In fatherly fashion, he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “Do one song. C’mon, it won’t kill you. I promise.”

  “It could. I’ll probably die from embarrassment when the crowd hisses and boos.” My stomach turned sour even as my palms grew clammy.

  “You would be a first.” He laughed and then rubbed his throat, a pained expression taking over. “Now don’t make me argue with you about this. Meet me here at four and we can practice a few songs before the show tonight.”

  I took a deep breath and nodded, still terrified, but willing to give it a shot. If I bombed on my first song, I’d walk away, hide in my room for the next four days until the end of the cruise, and never have to see these people again. Thoughts of Ethan slammed into my mind. I had four nights and three days to make things right with him and decide if we had any kind of future together. Even the idea of a future seemed fragile. As if tomorrow might not come, and if it did, it could bring catastrophe. Maddie’s words echoed in my ear. Live in the moment, but create your future through the choices you make in those moments.

  I needed to find Ethan.

  Chapter 29

  While checking all of Ethan’s usual hotspots, beginning with the dining hall, I came across the wall of photos that changed daily and had the latest pictures of passengers as they disembarked in port the morning before. I searched the wall until my gaze fell on a picture of Ethan and me at the start of our day in Santorini. His arm hung loosely around my neck, and I had mine tucked behind his waist, my head resting on his shoulder. The happy couple grinned back at me, and a shard of regret and longing pierced my heart.

  Glimpses of happiness seemed to come at a price—always accompanied by a pound or two of guilt. I ran a finger over Ethan’s lips in the picture, wishing he were here in front of me to kiss away the doubt and fear that flooded my mind. Thoughts of Amanda and my new found desire to let go of the past collided in a whirlwind of mixed emotion. Being with Ethan had the insanity-inducing effect of making me happier than I’d ever been, and yet terrified that if I let myself be happy, it would all be taken away.

  I shook off the weight of my confusion, determined to face my demons. I headed to the dining hall, which I found wasn’t open for lunch for another hour. My next stop was the sports bar, which housed only a few elderly men enjoying a hand of poker while their wives undoubtedly lounged by the pool or browsed the jewelry store on mid-deck. Finally I reached the Loft and there he was, stretched out on one of the stuffed chairs, his muscular legs bent so his arms could rest on his knees. His thumbs flicked over the joystick toggles with mad speed, and his eyes had the glazed-over look of a zombie. I cleared my throat, drawing his attention. I heard an explosion on the screen as he turned his full attention to me.

  “Hey,” Ethan mumbled. His eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, and then drifted back to the mayhem of the game.

  “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “I’ve been here.” He didn’t look up a second time. Instead, he proceeded to annihilate the aliens in front of him.

  My face grew hot. “I probably need to apologize...again.”

  “Probably.”

  “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  I released a frustrated sigh. “What did you expect yesterday when you came down on me like an overprotective parent? I don’t need another one of those.” I folded my arms across my front and tapped my restless foot. “Look, I’m sorry if I overreacted, but I...thought you were...different.” I chewed the ragged edge of a cuticle.

  Ethan focused on the game, a look of satisfaction flashing across his face as bombs flew and alien ships exploded at an alarming rate. Then he lowered the controller and our eyes met. “I’m not interested in telling you what to do, or even changing you. I like who you are.” He climbed to his feet and faced me, his gaze locking onto mine. “I was only trying to help.”

  “I don’t need that kind of help, Ethan. But I have to ask...is me smoking weed going to be a problem for you?” As much as I feared his answer, I needed to know.

  Ethan stood close enough that I could smell the fresh scent of his shampoo, a blend of coconut and almond that somehow soothed my raw nerves and yet set them on fire. “We’ll have to wait and see,” he said finally. With no hint of lightening up he added, “I can tell you I don’t really like it that you’re doing it. If you keep going the way you are, it’s bound to get you deeper into trouble. With Mitch being a cop and your mom struggling to hold it together, I would think the last thing you’d want to do is complicate things.”

  I turned away, the weight of his judgment stabbing like a sword through my chest. Anger bubbled up again. I spun to face him. “So you’re saying that I’m a complication for my family? Because I can’t be perfect like you and tow the parent line, I’m an inconsiderate jerk?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Ethan stood his ground, his face full of sharp angles. “But it might be nice of you to consider someone else’s feelings besides your own.” His tone was as sharp as the cool look in his eyes.

  “So now I’m selfish?” My jaw ached from clenching.

  He didn’t flinch.

  I turned away again, this time with every intention of sparing him the tears about to follow. “I came to apologize, but now I think I’d better go.”

&nb
sp; Ethan grabbed my arm.

  “Stop running away, Lexi.” He spun me around to face him again.

  “My name isn’t even Lexi. I’m Ali! My stupid grandmother started calling me Lexi just so I’d grow up overnight and become this smart, brave girl who wants to live her life on the straight and narrow for a change. I can’t be what you all want me to be...” By now tears were brimming over the edge and dripping down my cheeks. I wanted to pull away and run, but my feet wouldn’t move and the warmth of his hand on my arm kept me glued in place. He stepped in closer, his breath warm on my face.

  “Lexi or Ali. It doesn’t matter.” His gentle tone resonated through me. “You don’t get it, do you? No one is trying to change who you are or make you feel bad about yourself. And no one is perfect.” A small smile lifted one corner of his lips and his eyes softened. “Not even me.” He let go of my arm and his hand came to my cheek, wiping away a tear. “I’m saying these things because I care about you, and I want you to be happy.” He captured my chin as I tried to pull my gaze away. “I would bet your mom wants the same thing.”

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I hear what you’re saying, Ethan. Maybe the problem is...that I’m...lost right now. I don’t know what I want, where I’m going, or how I’m even going to make it through another day. But what I do know is that I need some time to figure it out...and I have to do it on my own.” I wanted him to argue, kiss me, and tell me I didn’t have to be alone, but I knew that wouldn’t solve the problem.

  Apparently...as usual...the problem was me.

  Chapter 30

  I met Maddie for the buffet lunch on the Lido deck and helped myself to a humongous portion of bread pudding, added a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and topped it off with whipped cream. No sense in spoiling dessert by having lunch first. No doubt I’d pay for my lack of restraint when my jeans wouldn’t button upon my return home. My heart ached at the thought of being home. Wondering what was happening with Mom and imagining the worst was eating me up inside. I plunked into a chair across from Maddie and shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth.

  “Is that what you’re having for lunch?” She shook her head and sighed when I flashed her a venomous eye and took another big bite. “What’s wrong now? Are you and Ethan fighting again? I swear, you teenagers live for drama. What happened?” She slipped her sunglasses down her nose and pinned me with a cool glare over the rims.

  I savored the sweet, cinnamon covered, gooey pudding, and then swallowed, uncertain of how much to confide. Despite her quirkiness and her old-fashioned ideas, she’d proven to have some useful advice when it came to life and relationships. I wouldn’t mention the fact that Ethan was on her and everyone else’s side about my recreational drug use.

  “I don’t know,” I started, leaning back in my chair and swirling my spoon in the melting ice cream, mixing the flavors. “We can’t seem to agree about whether this relationship is going to happen or not. It’s complicated, you know?”

  “Relationships always are.” She sipped her lemonade. “Maybe you need to stop trying so hard to make things happen. If it’s meant to be, it will all work out. You and Ethan have your whole lives ahead of you. Try not to put so much pressure on yourself to figure it all out today. Have a little patience, Alexis. It will be worth it in the end.” She grinned broadly and finished her drink, picking up a newspaper and sliding her glasses back in place.

  I spooned another glob of soupy sweetness into my mouth and thought about what she’d said. It was clear that if I didn’t decide to stop smoking weed, Ethan probably wouldn’t be interested in being my boyfriend for long. But if I quit because he wanted me to, I’d resent him for taking away the one thing that seemed to be helping me deal with all the tragedy in my life. The Medusa Lady called it self-medicating. Whatever. I’d seen how badly the meds Mom was taking messed with her mind and her moods. Pot seemed like the far lesser of two evils in my book. Either way, the decision was mine to make. I dropped the spoon in my dish and faced Maddie with a long sigh.

  “If you could do one thing over in life, what would it be?” I asked out of the blue.

  Maddie lowered the paper and eyed me over her glasses once more. She took only a moment to consider her answer, and a nostalgic smile lit her face. “I would have quit show business sooner and stayed home to enjoy my family. I missed so much of your father’s young life. I would have liked to have had more children as well, I think.” Her expression clouded and she lifted the paper again. “But there are no do-overs, my dear. We each have to live with the choices we make. Too bad we can’t all learn that lesson before we have to live with regrets.”

  I bit down on my tongue, causing my eyes to tear. I knew I’d brought it up, but if I had to hear one more comment about consequences, choices, and regrets, I would scream and jump overboard. Shark infested waters seemed infinitely more appealing than hearing about what a screw up I was. A puddle of melted ice cream with chunks of bread pudding sat in the bottom of my bowl. The rest settled into my stomach like a ball of raw dough.

  ∞∞∞

  After my non-lunch and the serious talk with Maddie, I was glad to disappear into a quiet corner on the promenade deck. Lying on a lounge chair with my ear buds pounding out some Katy Perry and the cloudless blue sky above, I imagined myself alone on a deserted island surrounded by blue-green sea, palm trees, and the smell of salt air. No one to tell me what to do, how to feel, or who I should be. I stared out over the sun-dazzled water, a hazy strip of land touching the horizon far in the distance.

  We would be in Turkey by morning and on a trek to see the Virgin Mary’s house. Memories of Catechism from when I was little played back in my mind. Amanda and I would put up a fight about going, but we always had fun once we were there. Playing games, learning prayers, and sitting together during story time were some of the best memories I had with my sister. We’d stopped going to church after Dad died, and I realized I missed the sense of community and belonging I’d felt there—one of the few places our family shared that felt sacred and unscarred by life’s tragedies. I couldn’t say exactly why, but I’d stopped praying somewhere along the line, too. After Dad’s accident and all that had happened with Mom and Amanda since, I had my doubts as to whether God was listening.

  Just then, a dolphin breached the water alongside the ship and leapt high into the air. I sprang out of my chair and ran to the railing to catch a glimpse as it disappeared beneath the water. Another dolphin shot up and dove back down beside the first, keeping pace with the ship. My heart pounded as they danced in and out of the water side by side.

  An overwhelming sense of gratitude filled me. As if God had answered some unspoken prayer and sent the dolphins to remind me Amanda was close by. My throat tightened and tears spilled over in a rush, as usual, catching me off guard. This time, though, I didn’t fight them. I allowed the tears to fall, asking God to somehow use them to wash away the crushing sadness and finally help me to let go of my sister. For the first time in years, I had hope that He was listening, and I had the distinct feeling that my future depended on me believing it.

  I fiddled with the charm bracelet on my wrist as the dolphins followed the ship. Lost in the moment, I imagined me and Amanda, still together, side by side—happy, and free.

  ∞∞∞

  Wrung out and totally not ready to face yet another of my issues, I made my way up to the Crow’s Nest late in the afternoon to practice with Tommy. Lighter after my meltdown, the glimpse I’d gotten of possibly living without guilt weighing me down like an anchor seemed fragile at best. Guilt was one thing, but fear was an entirely different monster to tackle. Whether or not I chickened out about actually performing in front of people, I was drawn to the notion of playing the guitar and losing myself in my music.

  A grin spread across Tommy’s lips when I walked in. “So you decided to come rescue me,” he croaked, his voice even more gravelly than it had been that morning.

  “I won’t promise anything,” I responded warily. “
But it won’t hurt to play a few songs with you before the crowd comes in for dinner.”

  Tommy slid onto the piano bench, leaving the stool in front of the mic open. The guitar rested in its stand as if waiting for me. I spent the next few minutes tuning the strings and strumming lightly on the chords until I was satisfied the instrument was ready and the sound was right.

  Tommy led me in acoustic renditions of some old James Taylor and Beatles tunes, all of which I was familiar with from growing up with Mom and Dad’s music of choice. I’d graduated to listening to classic rock and folk music, thanks to an old music teacher who had grown up in the seventies. Tommy slammed out a Billy Joel tune—Piano Man—and I strummed the chords beneath the notes, catching his melody and matching it perfectly. He grinned and encouraged me as I sang out the lyric, sweeter and stronger with every line as I followed the sheet music in front of me. My heart floated on the vibration that rang through my chest, filled my lungs, and even numbed the top of my head. It was the closest thing I knew to getting high, and I didn’t want the feeling to end.

  A few people wandered in to listen as I began another song. My pulse pounded in my ears as I strummed the chords and focused my attention on the music stand before me. The words to a Carol King ballad echoed through the silent room as passengers flowed in and sat down, obviously captivated by the sound Tommy and I were creating.

  With each note, my voice and my confidence grew, and I found the nerve to glance out at the growing crowd to catch a glimpse of smiling faces. My heart swelled and a sense of pride rose up. I couldn’t have imagined it possible that I would actually have fun playing in front of an audience. Tommy nodded and grinned broadly, approving my choice of the next song, an Elton John tune I’d always thought was cool.