Any Time You Need Me

by Farrah Rochon

  “Spaghetti and turkey meatballs,” Deanna said.

  “Still not eating red meat?” Paul asked.

  Deanna rolled her eyes. “Don’t stand there pretending you didn’t have a burger yesterday. I saw the wrapper in the trash.”

  Paul’s sheepish grin was the very definition of adorable. “Don’t rat me out to Felicity,” he said. He snuck in another kiss before grabbing a banana from the bowl on the counter and leaving through the door off the side of the kitchen.

  Aubrey leaned against the counter, staring toward where her brother-in-law had just left.

  “Dee, are you sure Paul is okay with this?” she asked.

  “With you living here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Of course, he is,” her sister assured her. “Actually, it was Paul’s idea.” Aubrey’s head snapped back in surprise, but her sister only nodded. “When you called last month, I had originally planned to just send you a couple thousand dollars that I’ve been saving in case of emergency, but Paul pointed out that the money would only be a temporary fix.”

  “He’s right,” Aubrey said. “That would have floated me for a month.” Maybe.

  “Paul’s the one who thought it made more sense for you to move in here so that you won’t have to worry about living expenses for a while. He never forgot how much it helped us to live with Mom and Dad when we first got married.” Deanna shrugged. “Besides, he’s on the road three weeks out of the month anyway. He knew I could use the company.”

  “I still feel like a mooch, but thanks,” Aubrey said.

  “You are a mooch, but a welcomed one.” Her sister stuck her tongue out.

  Aubrey threw a dish towel at her.

  She’d missed this. Deanna had come out to see her a couple of times in L.A., and they saw each other at their parents’ in Mississippi, but the visits were few and far between. Even though Deanna was six years older, Aubrey and she had always been close. If there was a bright side to this move, it was that she would get to spend some real time with her sister again.

  Aubrey drained out the ice water and tossed the remaining ice cubes. Using a handheld immersion blender, she then crushed the tomatoes.

  “What did you and Chandra end up doing last night?” Deanna asked from inside the walk-in pantry. She emerged cradling several spice bottles to her chest, which she deposited next to the stove where Aubrey had begun cooking down the tomatoes.

  “We went to The Corral.” She paused for a moment. “I saw Sam.”

  Her sister’s brows rose. “How’d that go?”

  “Same way it went when I saw him at the community theater yesterday afternoon. It was awful,” Aubrey said. “No, last night was worse than awful. At least at the community theater he just looked through me. Last night, he looked at me as if he hates the very air I breathe.”

  “And what if he does?” Deanna asked in that direct way of hers.

  It was a fair question.

  “I’m okay with Sam hating me,” Aubrey lied. “Ian and Dale were there and they were both as sweet as always.”

  “But Sam wasn’t.”

  Aubrey shrugged. “It doesn’t matter one way or the other. What we had ended a long time ago.”

  Deanna snorted. “It’s a good thing you chose a singing career over Broadway, because you can’t act for shit.”

  “Honestly, I’m—”

  “Don’t try it,” her sister said. “You and Sam might have ended long ago, but you’re not okay with him hating you. I don’t care how much you try to pretend you are.”

  “Would I rather he not hate me? Of course,” Aubrey said. “But I can’t change the way Sam feels about me. He’s entitled to feel whatever he wants to feel.” She lowered the flame under the tomato sauce and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest. “I knew I would have to face him when I decided to come back to Maplesville. And I knew there was a good chance that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. The fact that he’s ignored the friend request I sent him on Facebook for two years now is a pretty good indication of what he thinks about me.”

  “I wish I could fault him for being such a jerk about it,” Deanna said.

  “But you can’t.”

  Her sister shook her head. “No. Hate to say it, sweetie, but if I was in Sam’s position I’d probably feel the same way.”

  “Most people would,” Aubrey said, her shoulders lifting in a hapless shrug.

  “Now, I’m not saying he’s completely blameless here,” Deanna pointed out.

  “No, he isn’t. But his role in what happened back then wasn’t put out there for public consumption,” Aubrey said. She put both hands up. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just going to stay out of Sam’s way as much as possible. Of course, that won’t be as easy as I’d hoped. He’s helping to build the set for Porgy and Bess.”

  Deanna slapped her hand to her forehead as she looked up at the ceiling. “Shit. I should have known he’d take over doing that now that Charlie is gone. He’s helped his dad with the sets since Charlie started building them back when the community theater first opened.” When her sister looked at her again, her eyes were filled with regret. “I’m sorry I didn’t think about that before asking you to help out with the production, Aubrey.”

  “You didn’t ask. Felicity did, and there’s no way I would say no to my niece.”

  “Well, her semi-famous auntie is back in town. Of course she wants you on the production.”

  Aubrey put both hands on her hips. “Do you really think ‘semi-famous’ was necessary?”

  Deanna winked. “Don’t want your head getting any bigger on me. It’s bad enough Felicity has been walking around all starry-eyed around you, simply because you almost sang backup for Rihanna.”

  “Speaking of my niece.” Aubrey tilted her head toward where Felicity’s voice carried from upstairs.

  “Goodness, but that girl reminds me of you back when you were her age,” Deanna said. “All that singing used to drive Mom crazy.”

  “It still does.” Aubrey laughed. “I talked to her last night and started singing the Isley Brothers just to mess with her.”

  “Stop it. You’ll have that woman hopping in her car and driving down here from Jackson.”

  Their parents had moved to their mother’s hometown in Mississippi to take care of Aubrey’s maternal grandmother. They’d decided to remain there following Grandma Ethel’s death three years ago.

  Aubrey had considered asking them for a loan after they sold the house where she’d grown up here in Maplesville, but her pride had gotten in the way. Ten years ago, the only person who had been more disappointed in what she’d done than Sam was her father. He’d cast aside her attempts to explain what happened.

  She and her dad were estranged for several years after she moved to L.A., but Aubrey forced a reconciliation after he had a heart scare. She accepted that their relationship would never be what it was when she was growing up, but at least they communicated these days.

  Felicity came into the kitchen, earphones still in her ears, belting out the latest Arianna Grande song. She took a quart of frozen yogurt from the freezer and grabbed a bowl. Deanna took both out of her hands.

  “Hey!” Felicity said, pulling out one of the earbuds.

  “Hey right back atcha,” Deanna said as she returned the yogurt to the freezer.

  “I was going to eat that,” Felicity said.

  “You don’t pay taxes yet, which means you haven’t earned the right to eat dessert before dinner.”

  “Who made that rule?”

  “The person standing right here.” Deanna lifted an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Here you go. If you’re going to spoil your dinner, it’ll be with a nice Granny Smith.”

  Felicity turned to Aubrey. “Was she this mean when you two were growing up?”

  “Meaner,” Aubrey and Deanna said at the same time.

  Felicity rolled her eyes. She headed for the living room, but before she crossed the threshold,
turned back, and said, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, Aunt Aubrey. Practice starts an hour early tomorrow. Is that okay?”

  “No problem,” Aubrey said.

  She studied the spot where her niece had stood, contemplating the similarities between them. They both tickled her and frightened her.

  The urge to shield Felicity was so overwhelming it nearly stole her breath. Aubrey remembered those days when she was still a starry-eyed teen with dreams of taking show business by storm. The thought of her niece falling into the same traps that had snared her scared the hell out of Aubrey.

  Someone had to look out for Felicity. Someone who knew exactly how dangerous the music business could be.

  Someone like her.

  * * *

  Sam used two pieces of masking tape to mark off the spot where the wooden pier would begin. He measured out eight feet and then placed a couple more markers where it would end.

  “How’s it going?” Taylor asked, coming up alongside him and pressing her arm against the length of his.

  Sam inwardly sighed with frustration.

  He knew this touchy-feely shit stemmed from that kiss a couple of days ago. He’d told her he would call her. When he didn’t, Taylor had called him. Sam had let the call go to voicemail.

  He felt like the biggest asshole for using her the way he had.

  “Um, it’s okay,” he answered. Seeking an excuse to break contact, he bent down and put an unnecessary piece of tape on the floor.

  “Do you have an—” Taylor started, then stopped when her phone chimed with that annoying chirping sound it made when a text message came through. Taylor got a lot of text messages. So many that Sam used to hear that sound in his sleep back when they’d had their little fling.

  Taylor’s eyes lit up as she looked at the readout. “It’s Mya Dubois-Anderson. She’s doing the costuming for us this year.” Her long nails clicked on the touchscreen as she typed a return message. “Evelyn Jackson used to do the costuming, but…” Taylor’s voice trailed off. “I’m…sorry,” she finished.

  “She died, Taylor. It’s okay to say it. People die every day.” Sam smiled in an attempt to ease the awkwardness. “At least you have someone who is willing to step in and take over.”

  “Yes,” she said, her expression once again bright with excitement. “Did you know Mya was a costume designer on Broadway for years? We’re so lucky she’s available to help us. Volunteers make all this possible.” She laid her hand on his forearm. “Just in case I haven’t said so lately, thank you again for stepping up, Sam.” Then she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

  “Shit,” Sam whispered when she walked away. He would need to set things straight with Taylor, and soon.

  As he measured the distance from the left side of the bridge to the edge of the stage, a sultry voice began to sing the opening lines of Summertime.

  His hands fell to his sides as his gut instantly clenched with a yearning so damn strong it nearly took him out at the knees. Sam closed his eyes and allowed himself a moment to bask in the sheer magnificence of her voice.

  It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Aubrey would lend her help to this production, especially with her niece being in the cast. He remembered when Aubrey’s mom took her to see Porgy and Bess at the Saengar Theater in New Orleans for her sixteenth birthday. She couldn’t stop singing the songs from the show for weeks.

  She eased into the second part of the number and Sam’s skin began to heat.

  That voice. God, how he used to love that voice. It invaded his dreams at night, long after she’d left town. It would fill his mind as he imagined himself holding her body close to his.

  His gut clenched tighter with each hauntingly sweet note that traveled across the auditorium.

  Sam looked over at her. Even though he knew it would kill him. Even though he knew he would regret the memories it would evoke. He couldn’t help but look at her and remember that girl he’d loved all those years ago.

  He couldn’t hate her any more than he did at this very moment.

  He hated her.

  He hated her for throwing away what they’d had. He hated her for coming back to Maplesville and reminding him how much he used to love her. For making him think about how life could have been if she hadn’t messed it up.

  He clutched his hands so tightly that his nails bit into his palms. He needed to get the hell away from here.

  Sam picked up the railing Taylor wanted him to add to the faux porch and carried it out to his truck. He would bring it over to Ian’s garage tomorrow. His friend had allowed Sam to use his place to build the set, even though his dad’s workshop was better equipped to handle the job.

  It had been nearly a year since Sam had stepped foot in his dad’s shop. Not since Charlie had become wheelchair bound. He couldn’t bring himself to go back there yet.

  When he reentered the auditorium, his steps halted. Aubrey stood right inside the door, waiting for him. He tried to move past her, but she stopped him.

  “Wait.” She reached out to grab his arm but jerked her hand back before touching him. Sam looked down at her hand, then continued walking.

  “Sam, please.”

  He stopped, but he didn’t turn.

  Hearing his name on her lips, intoned in that gentle plea, sent a confusing mixture of dread and longing sluicing down his spine. He felt like a damn masochist around her; knowing he shouldn’t want anything to do with her, yet relishing whatever short time he found himself in her presence.

  Sam started to walk away, but then she said, “Please, can we talk for just a minute?”

  His eyes fell shut as he sucked in a breath. Steeling himself for the onslaught of emotions he didn’t want to feel but knew were inevitable, Sam turned and faced her. He held his jaw so tight it felt as if it would crack.

  Aubrey’s fingers fidgeted as she shuffled from one foot to the other. Then she stopped the nervous movement and stood up straight, as if girding herself. She looked him in the eyes as she began.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about your dad.”

  Sam didn’t know how to respond. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

  “I know how close you were to him,” Aubrey continued. “And how awful it must be for you to lose him at such a young age. Charlie was one of the sweetest people I’ve ever known.”

  He swallowed deeply before speaking. “Thanks,” he said. He started to walk away when she stopped him again.

  “Sam?”

  He turned.

  “One more thing.” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, but then, once again, she straightened her spine and looked him in the eyes. “I know things will be awkward with me being back in Maplesville, but if I can make just one request?”

  Sam cocked a brow.

  “Can you try not to look at me as if I’m the most revolting thing on the planet? At least in front of Felicity,” she said, gesturing toward the piano where her niece stood with the rest of the cast who’d been practicing. “She was too young to remember what happened back then.”

  Sam folded his arms over his chest. “I didn’t realize I was looking at you with revulsion.”

  He knew it was a lie. He couldn’t help the way he looked at her. Couldn’t help the feelings that came over him ever since she’d reappeared in his life.

  “You may not be aware of it, but yes, the way you look at me…” She shook her head. “It’s as if you hate me, which you probably do.” She paused for a moment, as if waiting for him to refute her words. When he remained silent, utter pain flashed across her face.

  Her shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath she exhaled. “Look, Sam, I’m not asking you to like me. That’s your choice. I just want…peace between us.”

  “Peace?”

  “Yes, peace. I don’t know how long I’ll be in Maplesville. It does neither of us any good to have this hostility bubbling up every time we run into each other.”

  “I haven’t been hostile.” The w
ords sounded hostile even to his ears.

  Aubrey briefly closed her eyes and tipped her head up toward the ceiling. “Okay, fine. Maybe hostile isn’t the right word. I don’t know what the right word is.” She held her hands out, as if pleading. “The animosity isn’t necessary, Sam. I just want some peace. That’s all I’m asking for. And, if it’ll help, I want to finally tell you how sorry I am for the way I hurt you all those years ago. It’s always bothered me that I never got the chance to apologize.”

  Her words affected him far more than Sam ever anticipated they would.

  They pissed him off.

  Did she really think she could come back after ten years and smooth everything over with that weak ass apology? He took a step toward her, his arms still crossed over his chest.

  “So, is this apology really for me, or is this just a way for you to clear your conscience?” he asked. “Because if you’re apologizing only because it’s bothered you all these years, then it’s just further proof that you’re still the same selfish Aubrey who’s only thinking about yourself. You can keep your apology. It’s ten years too late.”

  She flinched, as if his words physically hurt her. The sight of her bottom lip trembling before she pulled it between her teeth gutted him, and made him want to take back everything he’d just said.

  She pulled in another of those cleansing breaths before she looked up at him, sadness, resignation, and just a touch of defiance swimming in her deep brown eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Sam,” she said. “Whether you choose to believe it or not.” With that she turned and started toward the stage.

  Sam forced himself not to follow her and apologize for being a prick. She’d earned every bit of the scorn he felt for her.

  Yet, even as he tried to convince himself that she didn’t deserve his forgiveness, Sam knew he wasn’t being entirely fair. All of that stuff with Aubrey happened a long time ago. He didn’t know if she’d changed over these past ten years. He didn’t know anything about her. He’d made sure of it.