This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad

by Ngontang Mba, Danielle-Claude

  I really should have rung her.

  Lucia – The Pre-Chorus

  Where did the time go? It’s already Wednesday morning. The past two days went by like a flash. Sunday night was dinner with the entire clan: Axelle, Paul, baby Mitch and my little Annie, commonly known as the Andersons. Oh… Noor and Andrew were there too. It was a typical fun night at the Andersons. Annie showed her latest dance moves; she’s really coming along this one, a real Riddell through and through. With her big, grey eyes so identical to ours and her light-brown hair, my now almost-seven-year-old niece is the spitting image of her mother; meaning she looks like Noor and me as well; meaning she looks like our mom. Ah…and Mitch is now fully potty trained and that was all the three-years-old was talking about.

  I had to cook dinner, being afraid of food poisoning and all (Axelle is the best Riddell dancer of our generation, but probably the worst cook). I kept it simple with a beef and salmon wellington. I even made dessert: carrot cupcakes with cream cheese and cognac icing, cognac-free for the kids.

  “I can’t believe you made dessert.” Axelle was plating my birthday cupcakes. “I bought you a cake, Luce, and it wasn’t cheap.”

  I gave her a big hug. “Keep it. My cupcakes are better. Thank you.”

  At this moment, Annie, closely trailed by her baby brother, arrived back in the living room.

  “Beleeda?” Mitch said. He’s just the cutest boy with deep-green eyes and light-reddish hair, just like Paul.

  “Okay, but just one song before going to bed,” I told him and sat him on the sofa. I didn’t bring Belinda. My girl never leaves home unless she has to. But I have a total of three guitars. “Which one do you want to hear? Grandpa and grandma’s song?”

  “Yay!” everyone said together. Here goes a Brady Bunch moment with “The Love Song” by Accaba.

  I started to play and sing the song:

  It was my heart, it was my heart, it was my heart she took.

  I never saw her coming,

  I never saw her approaching.

  It was my heart she took.

  I was my kiss, I was my kiss, it was my kiss he stole.

  I never saw him coming,

  Didn’t see him approaching

  But it was my kiss he stole.

  It was (it was) my smile (my smile). It was (it was) my smile (my smile). It was (it was) my smile (my smile) she brought (she brought my smile).

  Could I have even stopped it,

  oh oh oh, if I knew it was coming?

  Yes it was (yes it was) my smile (my smile) she brought.

  Ooh ooh ooh, la la la. Ooh ooh ooh, la la la. Ooh ooh ooh, la la la.

  It was (it was) my heart (my heart) you took (ooh yeah).

  It was (it was) my kiss (my kiss) he stole (ooh yeah).

  Yes it was (yes it was) my smile (my smile) she brought (ooh yeah).

  I never saw her coming (I never saw her coming).

  Didn’t see him approaching (didn’t see him approaching),

  but she took (he stole) my love (my heart).

  Yes she took (he stole) my love (my heart).

  Oh she took (he stole) my love (my heart).

  Yes she took (he stole) my love (my heart).

  Ooh ooh ooh, la la la. Ooh ooh ooh, la la la. Ooh ooh ooh, la la la.

  “Now time for bed,” Axelle said to the kids. I could see her wiping her tears. “Kiss your aunties,” she added before they all disappeared to the second floor.

  Their home was, once upon a time, my home. I’d lived with Axelle and Paul for six years, my first six in Toronto, and for five of them it was just the three of us in the house. They were both great to me but moving out at twenty-two to move in with Noor and embrace her bohemian lifestyle was overdue and necessary at that point.

  On Monday, I treated myself to a spa day, thanks to Paul, and brought Noor along, thanks to Andrew. A yoga class (I needed to stretch). An organic lunch (sure, why not). A seaweed body wrap (we’re not part of the next organic lunch?) And to finish, a massage and facial. I was exhausted by the time we got out of there – five hours later!

  “Let’s get a drink,” Noor said.

  “After all that detox?” I replied. “Definitely.” We made happy hour, turned to early dinner. Not organic this time.

  “Thanks for letting me tag along,” She told me when we were waiting for our food. “I needed a day away from the school.”

  “You’re leaving for London in five months and for two whole ones. A lot to do, I’m sure.” I stared at my empty wine glass feeling sad. “I need a refill.”

  “How are you holding up?” she asked then took my hand. “Should we make it a double this time?” she added before laughing.

  “Hey!” unbelievable, I took my hands away. “I’m going to miss you Crazy.”

  “Will miss you too, Luce, but I can’t drink to that just yet. I’m still recovering from Friday.” She smiled. “A bit of Saturday.” then winked. “And Sunday.” She looked at her empty glass. “Do you think we have a problem?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t,” I said just before the waitress came with our food. “Could I get another glass of merlot?” I asked her.

  “Sure, coming right up.”

  “Rubbish!” Noor said.

  “Please, you attacked that poor girl on Friday. Marcus’s friend…um, Nella?”

  She shivered and fessed up, “Ornella Horne. The Southern Belle and I have history. We both wanted Andrew.” she took a bite of her dish. “Guess who won?”

  “John is not a bad consolation price,” I said then he waitress came back with my drink. “Thank you.”

  “Nope, he’s adorable,” Noor said. She took my glass of wine and went for a taste. “I want one too; a big one, please,” she told the waitress. “I know, I’m the one with the problem,” she confessed after the waitress’ departure. “Talking about adorable British man, any news on the Marcus’s front?”

  “No!” I swallowed of my wine slowly. “And it’s fine, really. We had an awesome time. Why can’t it just be enough for now?” I started to eat my food; it was delicious. “I did give him my business card,” I finally added. Uh-ho! I walked right in to this one.

  “Business card? That’s what the kids are calling it these days?” Noor teased. “Some credentials too maybe?” She took her glass of wine. “References?”

  Tuesday was less eventful; it was all about getting ready for today. I made three dozen cinnamon rolls from scratch; the dough needed to rest for a few hours in the fridge, so I got my hair done in the meantime. Once back, I put the rolls in the oven and the smell of sugar and cinnamon invaded my kitchen and living room. Those rolls would be a perfect welcome back gift to the office after a week away, and they’re Lee’s favorites.

  So far, I’ve composed and written two songs, the first when I was in Florida called “Second Coming”. Can you spell title song of the album? I hate the album title but Beesly blurted it out when I only mentioned it as a joke. Now we’re stuck with it. The song was about the perfect couple reuniting for the second time. I wanted to make it a ballad and feature Beesly’s amazing voice not duet style. Matt would be more of a backup on this one:

  Second chances, second time, another try for the both of us.

  Yes, it’s the second coming of us…

  I was quite pleased with it. The current arrangement is all acoustic, mostly guitar and a bit of violin. I’ll work with Lee to add the drums and bass. I want this album to be composed and played with real musicians; no auto-tune, no sound created by a machine. The G band won’t be available until May, so in the meantime, we will use local one. Last night, I started to write another one. I called it “Infatuation” for now. It’s about two people meeting for the first time. And, yes, I am aware that it’s about Marcus and me:

  His sensual lips and teasing smile, just an infatuation.

  His eyes never left mine, his touch made me melt inside.

  Who’s my beautiful stranger and how could he make me feel this way
?

  Or maybe it’s just an infatuation…

  This one was supposed to be a blues song with a jazzy feel. I’ll see with Lee tomorrow, but again I’m going with a guitar-driven melody. I played it with Belinda and it sounded great.

  Time to get dressed and head to work or I’ll be late. Second Coming kick-off day, Wednesday 1st April. I mark the date on my phone – April Fools’ Day. One must choose her outfit carefully for a big day like this one. I search my closet for the solution. I should have gone shopping last week. And we have a winner – my long, dark-blue blouse; I’ve never worn it before. Always end up choosing something else. It has a nice, slightly plunging V-neck and elbow-length sleeves, a white undershirt to cover up will be just fine. I still need to cover my legs – at least a little. Leggings or jeans? Boots or sandals? What about my hair? Up or down? Decisions, decisions…

  I put my laptop in its case and with my basket full of fresh of rolls, I leave my place. Downstairs, I attach the sealed basket to the passenger’s seat of my car and put the laptop under it. I turn on the radio; “Manic Monday” by the Bangles is playing. I should write a song about Wednesdays, maybe for this album. As I’m getting on the main road, I wonder where I should stop for my morning coffee. Second Cup or Starbucks? Decisions, decisions…

  “Lucia, those are amazing!” Jenny Allen says and picked up another roll from the basket. “We have certainly missed that around here.”

  I’m sure she did. Every anorexic diva needs a weekly sugar fix. She really needs to feed herself; she looks pale. Jenny and I have never really been on good terms – at best, courteous co-workers.

  I dropped my basket in the company communal kitchen on the main floor. That early in the morning, I knew everybody would be there. So far only Jenny and Kathie McMullan are. Kathie is Greg’s younger sister; she is also Lloyd and Callia’s assistant and niece. We’re just one big happy family.

  “You look especially lovely today.” Kathie adjusted her light glasses’ frame. “Where did you get those gold shoes?” She points at them. “Are they…? And the matching belt too…”

  “MB? Yup, Kathie. Got them in an outlet mall in Miami,” I answer and spin around. I opted for white, tight pants to complement the blouse and pushed my front curls away from my face with a barrette. “So…what did I miss?”

  Kathie’s petite figure turns away from me. She takes one roll and places it in a napkin, “Thanks for the rolls and my double-venti mocha.” No eye contact. Our usually feisty boss’s assistant is unusually quiet today. She takes a sip. “I wasn’t sure you remembered it was your turn.” She takes another sip. “Okay, I have to go back upstairs. Lloyd wanted to be informed of your arrival. See you later, honey,” she says before leaving the kitchen.

  Jenny and I are now alone in the kitchen. Her station is only a few steps away, so hanging out here is really common for her. I pick a few rolls and put them on a plate.

  “Next time you forward your messages to the reception, please let me know first,” Jenny says. She takes another roll. “I’m not a secretary. Kathie is.”

  How dare she? Cease fires never last. I turn to the skinny brunette. “You’re the receptionist; taking messages is part of your job too. Anyway, I have voicemail, but the switchboard option cannot be removed. Talk to Lloyd or Callia if you have an issue.”

  “About what now?” Callia says as she enters the kitchen. “I thought I smelled fresh baking.” She hugs me. “Welcome back, Luce. I almost lost a pound in your absence.” She gives me a kiss on the cheek and whispers in my ear, “Happy birthday, sweetie.”

  “Thanks, Callia,” I whisper back. I look at Jenny leaving the room. I’ve won another battle but the war is still going on. “How are the kids?” I ask Callia.

  “They’re great. I have their gift in my office. Come by to pick it up later.” She looks at her watch. “I have an appointment across town in an hour and I need to follow up on the few things first.” She takes a roll. “But I’ll see you this afternoon, with Beesly and Matt.” She starts heading towards the door.

  “Wait for me!” I take my bags and Lee’s plate. “I’m up too to drop this to Lee.”

  We walk to the elevator, passing Jenny at the reception. I press the button with my only available hand. We’re supposed to meet at 9.00 a.m. and maybe come up with a demo to show to them. It’s only 8.30 a.m. I’ll just drop the plate and go to my office. Once in the elevator, I press 10, and 9 for Callia.

  “Thanks,” she says. She looks at me and smiles, “Big day eh? I like the earrings. New?”

  “Axelle’s birthday gift from our Granddaddy.” I touch them and smile.

  “I remember him from Axelle’s wedding – simply adorable,” she says as the elevator stops on the ninth floor. “I’ll see you this afternoon. In the meantime, please go see Lloyd,” she adds before exiting.

  First Kathie and now Callia; I’m not sure what this is all about.

  The door opens to the tenth floor. This entire floor is for recording studios and is our highest floor. We have a dance studio and stage on the seventh; the fifth floor has the reception and meeting rooms as well as the kitchen. The bosses’ offices are on the ninth floor and the rest of us are on the sixth and eighth floors. Lee is always early and pretty much lives on the tenth floor, even though he has a great office on the eighth. I knock at the door of room 3 and immediately open the door. Lee is sitting there chatting to some guy with his back to me.

  “Did you cut your hair, Lucia?” he asks. He passes his hand through his black, shoulder-length, curly hair. “I thought we were growing it together.”

  “A small trim; nothing much. We’re still on,” I say as I walk towards him. “Look at what I brought you?” I wave the plate. “Fresh from my oven.”

  “Thanks. You do know how to hit my soft spot,” he says but not too convincingly. “We were supposed to meet in thirty minutes. What’s the rush?” He then looks at the person in front of him. They are both sitting in front of the mixing console. Lee gets up and meets me halfway.

  “Did you bring a date here?” I whisper to him. I take a look at the man sitting and can only see him from the neck up. He has brown hair down to his neck. Is that a mullet? Please let the front be as long as the back? “Cute looking one from what I can see,” I tell him.

  “He’s not here for me Lucia.” He takes a roll from the plate. “Have you seen Lloyd yet?” he asked then tastes the roll. “Umm, umm – good.”

  The non-date turns around and walks to us. “Could I have one too?” he asks, grinning at me. I know that smile and this is not a mullet; long strands of hair are partially covering the familiar face. He passes his hand to push them back. Marcus’s deep-green eyes are staring back at me. He takes a roll and starts to eat it right away. “Bloody hell, those are delicious!”

  I put the plate down. His hair is about two inches shorter and he completed shaved his light beard. Same long thin nose, sexy dimples and I can see them better now that they are not covered.

  “Hi, Marcus.” I’m pretty sure I’m blushing again. I can feel the heat rising on my cheeks.

  Lee looks confused. “You guys met?” he asks us.

  “Right,” Marcus mumbles.

  “Sure,” I mutter at the same time.

  “Hi, Lucia,” he finally tells me and wipes creamy icing from his hand. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “So you were here on business after all.” I check my phone for the time. “I have a few minutes before my session with Lee. I need to go to my office to drop my things.” I smile. “Want a tour? Or you’re busy?”

  “A tour would be nice,” he says, raising one eyebrow.

  “Lee, I’ll be back in fifteen. And, boy, do I have work for you!”

  Lee looks at Marcus but says nothing. Instead he takes another roll and eats it. We leave the room and walk to the elevator. Marcus turns to me and offers his hand.

  “Marcus Grant; how do you do?” he says with a killer smile.

  I’m sizing him up a little. N
ice hemmed, dark jeans, a nice fitting green sweater and a black jacket. Should I even bother mentioning the shoes?

  “Still very posh I see. Toronto hasn’t gotten to you yet.” I smile back and shake his hands. “Nice to meet you again, Marcus Grant,” I tease back. “I’m Lucia Mpobo-Riddell. And this is my office,” I say as we enter it. “I’ll be just a minute. I need to print a few things before going back upstairs.” I point a chair. “Please have a seat, Marcus.”

  He looks around. “That’s a very nice office you have,” he says and then sits. “Luce, we need to talk.”

  It is a nice office; much larger than most corner ones you will give a pencil pusher. That’s the Noël-Sarrow’s way. All the offices on the sixth and eighth floor were about 100 meters square or more. I’ve got a more one, enough to put one of my platinum frames on the wall and a few photos. I also have my own all-purpose printer. What can I say; I’m a bit of a teacher’s pet. They’ve known me for more than a decade.

  “Give me just a minute,” I tell him and sit on the other side of my desk. “My bosses own this building. They’re renting the first five floors and are using the rest for their music production company.”

  “Wicked.” He smiles at me.

  “I know.” I smile back. “I got to pick out my desk and the color of my office, which explains the brown and green. No dull color here, my friend.” I print my lyrics and get up to take them from the printer then I decide that I should really address the elephant in the room. “Are you here for me?” I ask.

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Marcus, you’re in my office, so to speak, on a Wednesday morning. So unless you have business here…”

  “I do,” he finally admits after seconds of silence. “I have business here.” He gets up and walks in front of the printer. “That’s what I want to talk to you about.”

  “That’s fine, but I have a session with Lee.” I check my time. “Ten minute ago. I’m surprised he hasn’t called me yet.” My work phone rings at that same moment. “Spooky.” I look at Marcus and pick up. “Good morning. Lucia speaking.”