by Twyla Turner
Reunions
Chapter 12
Present Day…
Chase went out to get the mail one last time. He walked back through the house, skirting large boxes that scattered the floor in his now near-empty San Diego home. It had taken five long years, but his divorce to Whitney was now finalized.
The moment he got home from visiting Pat in the hospital, he’d lawyered up. Chase had chosen the best divorce lawyer in the state of California. The lawyer had advised him on where to hide his money so that even the best lawyer couldn’t find it.
“But since I’m the best in this state and you’ve already hired me, any lawyer that she gets won’t be able to find it,” the man chuckled.
Chase prepared everything, safeguarding his future before he served Whitney with the divorce papers. She’d, of course, went ballistic on him. She also fought tooth and nail to take him for everything he had and stalled on signing the papers until she had what she wanted. After a while, Chase was pretty sure that she’d finally just given up, tired of all the fighting. His career ending injury in February hadn’t hurt either. His lawyer had argued that Chase would no longer receive the yearly income that he’d been getting, so it wasn’t fair for Whitney to still want the amount she sought in alimony.
In the end, with his money hidden and his professional football career over, Whitney only got fifty grand a year out of him and the house, which she was selling for the cash. The small fortune he’d amassed from his yearly salary and endorsements was safe from her greedy hands.
Chase rotated his still tender right shoulder as he sorted through the mail. His injury had happened in an almost fitting moment. It was the winning pass he’d thrown during the Superbowl. He’d been hit right as he launched the ball through the air. He had felt the tendons rip as the player’s helmet hit him.
It had taken them a moment to realize that he’d been hurt as his team rushed the field in celebration. He’d had no idea whether they’d won the game or not, he had been so blinded with pain. He rolled around on the ground, clutching his shoulder when they finally noticed. The stadium had gone silent as the medical team and his teammates hovered over him.
“Did we at least win?” Chase gritted out the question.
“Yeah, Chase. We won,” his coach told him with a grim smile.
They’d loaded him up on a stretcher and as they carried him off the field, he’d lifted up his good arm. He held up his index finger, silently saying, we’re number one. And the quiet stadium had roared. As they disappeared through the breezeway of the stadium, quiet tears had slipped down Chase’s temples. He knew it was over for him. The moment was bittersweet.
He’d led them to win the Superbowl his first season on the team and his last. It seemed appropriate, the way it ended. So when the doctors examined him and told him that his throwing arm would never be the same, he’d accepted it without too much heartache. It was never a matter of when, but a matter of how bad when it did happen.
Now that he could literally go anywhere, with his career finished and his marriage over, Chase still hadn’t decided on where he was going. Though an envelope with a familiar address from his hometown, planted the seeds of an idea in his mind as he opened it and saw what was inside.
The envelope contained two items. A ticket to a performance of the Chicago Symphony and a piece of stationery paper.
Chase,
She did it! She’s finally the principal cellist with the Chicago Symphony. This is a ticket for her first concert as principal. Please come!
Love, Pat
“YES!” Chase shouted out in the quiet house.
He was so proud of her. It was what she’d dreamed of for years, and she finally got it. He didn’t even realize she was back in Chicago. Chase hadn’t had any idea where she was in the world. When she’d cut things off with him, she’d meant it. Even her mom stopped contacting him, out of respect for her daughter. He didn’t even know if she was still with her husband or not. And even if she had divorced him, it had been five years and Day was a beautiful woman. She was probably already remarried.
Chase sighed. The moment of elation he had felt for her a few seconds ago quickly died as his thoughts spun out of control to a desolate place. He started to toss the ticket and note in the garbage, but a small voice stopped him. What if…
Chase pulled out his smartphone and without thinking too hard about the consequences, he pulled up a site to book a flight to Chicago.
~~~
Chase found his seat in the packed auditorium. He sat down and straightened his jacket and tie nervously. He had no idea why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he was performing though that didn’t stop his palms from sweating. It didn’t keep his hands from trembling. Nor did it silence his erratically beating heart. He wasn’t sure what had him more anxious.
Maybe it was because tonight was Day’s first solo performance as a principle cellist for the Chicago Symphony. Or maybe it was because this would be the first time he would see her in five years. He’d missed her every second of those one-thousand-eight-hundred and twenty-five days. Chase doubted that it was a coincidence that it had been literally five years to the day since he’d last laid eyes on her.
The sold-out auditorium became eerily silent as the heavy burgundy curtain rose. There in the middle of the stage, alone except for the polished wood and strings between her legs was Chase’s best friend. The love of his life. My Pretty Day.
Even at thirty-four years old, Day had barely changed. Her smooth caramel skin glowed under the lights of the stage. Her plump cheeks were flushed with color. Her full lips were painted a deep red. The dark chocolate eyes, Chase knew all too well were highlighted with a dramatic smoky look. The voluptuous curves that fit against his body to perfection were stylishly covered with a black sleeveless wide-leg pants jumpsuit. The only difference that Chase could see was that she’d chopped off her straightened hair and grown it out natural. Now her hair was an adorable cap of gorgeous coiled curls that sprung out around her face, creating a dark halo.
Chase’s breath hitched and he thought about Daylen Daniels throughout the many stages of her life. He loved every one of them and prayed to God that he’d get a chance to know and love this stage as well.
A secret little smile graced Day’s lips and she closed her eyes. She drew the bow across the strings of her cello and the familiar strains of a song reached Chase’s ears. It was Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1. The same song she had recorded for him over fifteen years ago.
Chase thought that she’d played the song beautifully then. He quickly realized that her skill had become masterful. She no longer hid behind the cello like she once had. The passion that was etched on her face as she bit her bottom lip, made him squirm in his seat. She embodied confidence and sexiness, and the audience was mesmerized.
Then as the strains of the familiar song ended, a secondary curtain that was behind her rose and the entire symphony was behind her. The orchestra launched into a Vivaldi Cello Concerto, led by Day. Chase’s eyes filled with tears and his chest filled with pride. Day was magnificent. It was obvious that she loved playing, but it was also clear that she’d worked her ass off to reach the level in which she played.
After the showcase for their new principal cellist ended, they had a brief intermission. Once everyone was back in their seats and the symphony continued, Day sat with the rest of the orchestra for the remainder of the evening. But Chase’s eyes never strayed from her the entire time.
When the concert ended, Chase made his way out to the lobby of the conservatory. He hoped that he’d get a chance to see Day before she left. Several concert goers milled about the lobby, speaking with some of the members of the symphony when through the crowd, Chase saw her.
Day walked forward and a bright smile spread across her lips though she wasn’t looking at him. Chase’s eyes followed her line of sight, to two people that were standing waiting for her. Chase’s eyes widened and his heart exploded in his chest at who he saw.
Pat stood there smiling with a little girl in her arms. Chase watched in astonishment as Pat lowered the girl to the floor and she took off running on little legs straight to Day. As she raised her little arms, she shouted one word that sent Chase’s world into a tailspin.
“Mommy!”
Day leaned down and scooped the girl up in her arms. The little girl gave Day a sweet kiss on the lips and wrapped her tiny arms around Day’s neck. Daylen smiled and rubbed a hand in soothing circles on the girl’s tiny back. That was when she looked up to see Chase standing there. Chase watched as her eyes widened in shock, her smile faded, and her mouth fell open as her jaw slackened.
On unstable legs, Chase walked towards them. Pat looked nervously between the three of them. The little girl with skin fairer than her mother’s caramel complexion and wheat blonde unruly curls looked up as her mother’s body tensed. She looked at her mom’s face and then turned to see who her mom was looking at. Green-flecked light brown eyes collided with his eyes of the same color and Chase felt a punch to the gut.
As Chase finally stopped in front of them, he was barely able to tear his eyes from the child as he finally spoke.
“Hello, Day.”
Chapter 13
Day nearly crapped her pantsuit when she saw Chase standing across the lobby from them. He was as gorgeous as ever. His hair was longer than it was the last time she’d seen him. Long enough on the sides and top, to comb it back into golden waves. The look was very grown up and sophisticated. He wore a dark navy suit with an electric blue tie that fit his large muscular form to perfection and complimented his tan skin.
Chase started to move towards them. The shocked and curious look he gave the little person in her arms, made Day tighten her arms instinctively around her daughter. Day saw the moment that Chase looked into her daughter’s eyes and realized she was his. The eyes were unmistakable.
“Hello, Day,” Chase said thickly.
“Hi, Chase.” Day’s voice trembled.
“Mommy, who is he?” A little voice chimed in.
“This is a friend of mommy’s.” Day answered.
“What’s your name?” She asked Chase sweetly.
“Chase,” he answered gruffly. He cleared his throat and spoke again, “What’s yours?”
“Lyric,” she said brightly.
Day’s heart warmed. Even though she was the complete opposite of her mother, outgoing and talkative. She still became a little shy around men. Day knew she must have instantly taken a liking to Chase.
“What a beautiful name, Lyric.” Chase swallowed hard.
“My mommy says that it’s words to a song. My mom likes music. She’s a cellish…cellish…she plays cello.” Lyric rattle on, having a hard time saying cellist. “My whole name is Lyric Stephanie Daniels,” she said delivering a second blow to Chase’s emotions. If the look on his face was any indication.
At hearing his mother’s name, Chase’s eyes turned glassy. He blinked rapidly, trying to gain his composure. He tried to speak, but nothing came out and he had to wipe at his eyes. Day’s own eyes filled with tears, as did her mother’s. And Lyric looked at all the adults with a frown.
“Why are you crying, Mommy?” She asked innocently.
“Oh, no reason, sweetie. It’s just been a long time since we’ve seen each other, is all.” Day replied.
“Why is Nana crying?”
Because she’s a sneaky and conniving old woman. “I think she’s just happy, baby.”
“Why is he crying? I thought boys don’t cry.” Lyric asked, solidly in her ‘why’ phase of life.
“Boys do cry. And I think Chase is crying because he’s so happy to meet you.” Day explained.
During Lyrics Spanish Inquisition, Chase had finally collected himself enough to speak. “How old is she?” He asked.
“She turned four August 3rd.” Day answered and watched as Chase did the math.
He looked at her in surprise. “Wait! Her birthday is the 3rd?” Chase asked in surprise.
“Yeah.” Day smiled.
She’d been completely astounded herself when Lyric was born on that day. Lyric’s birthday was the third, Day’s the fourth, and Chase’s the fifth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Chase asked.
“Mom, could you take Lyric to the car?” Day asked Pat.
“Sure. Come here, baby.” Pat said reaching for her granddaughter. She stopped and placed a hand on Chase’s arm. “It’s good to see you, Chase.” Then she walked away.
Lyric looked over her nana’s shoulder and waved goodbye to Chase. Day saw a look of pain cross Chase’s face as he waved back.
“You should’ve told me,” Chase said with barely contained heat in his voice, as he turned to look at Day.
“Chase, I’m sorry. It was just-”
“It was just what, Day?” Chase growled. “I missed everything!” He shouted.
Day glanced around and noticed the people that still lingered were giving them curious looks.
“Chase, not here. We should speak in private.” Day whispered.
“When?” He ground out.
“W-We could p-plan-”
“No,” Chase gritted out. “I want to talk now.”
“I-I can ask my mom to take Lyric for the night and we can talk at my place.” Day suggested.
Chase nodded his head once, obviously not trusting himself to speak further.
Day started to walk towards the door and out to the parking lot. The cold Chicago wind hit her face and she pulled her coat tighter around her body and clutched at the straps of her cello case. Chase followed closely as she walked to her and her mom’s cars, parked side by side. Lyric was already passed out in the backseat of her mom’s car. Day leaned down and Pat rolled down the window.
“Mom, could you take Lyric home with you for the night? I’ll come pick her up in the morning.” Day asked nervously.
“Sure, sweetie. That’s not a problem.” Pat said quickly.
“Thanks, mom. Oh, and thanks for the warning.” Day said as she gave her mom a scathing look.
“Sorry.” Pat cringed.
“No, you’re not.” Day rolled her eyes heavenward.
She stood back up and Pat put the car in drive and headed out of the lot to the busy city street. Day blew out a nervous breath and turned to Chase. His eyes were following her mom’s car as it drove away. She knew his thoughts were on the little girl in the backseat.
“This is mine.” Day pointed to her little green SUV.
He silently walked over to the passenger side, while she put her cello in the backseat, next to Lyric’s car seat. Day slid into the driver’s side. It took a moment for her trembling hands to get the key in the ignition. When she finally got it and turned the car over, a popular song from a kid favorite Disney movie blared out the speakers. Day quickly turned down the volume and switched the radio on, to a top 40 station.
Day braved a look over at Chase, and his face was a mask of quiet rage as he stared straight ahead. The muscle in his jaw ticked furiously. Day didn’t think it was wise to strike up small talk, so she put the car in drive and headed to her home in Lincoln Park.
Ten minutes later, she pulled into the garage behind her house. She made a great salary as a cellist for the Chicago Symphony, so she was able to afford a good home for her and Lyric. The house had been built in 1889 but was now renovated in the more modern style.
They got out of the car and Chase followed Day to the back door. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. He walked in and looked around the spacious room. It had high ceilings, hardwood floors, and decorated warmly. Day had wanted her home to be cozy and inviting, with plush couches and chairs, and tables with rounded corners. A place where a kid could be a kid without the risk of injury, and where an adult could relax.
“Please, have a seat.” Day gestured towards the living area. “Can I get you something to drink? We can order some takeout. Whatever you want.” Day tried to be accommodating.
“I want a
nswers,” Chase said, not willing to beat around the bush.
“And I’ll give you those, but I just finished a long and exhausting performance and I’m hungry. So I’m ordering Chinese,” Day informed him, not willing to be intimidated.
As she grabbed a menu from her stash and called to place the order, she watched as Chase walked around the room. He looked at pictures that were on the mantel above the fireplace. He found her photo album lying on the coffee table. He picked it up and started to flip through the pages of photographs. He stopped at one and stared at it for several minutes. He laid his hand over the picture and closed his eyes.
Curiously, Day walked over to him to see what picture he’d stopped at. Through his splayed fingers, she could see it was a picture of her lying in the hospital bed after giving birth. Lyric was lying peacefully on her chest with a little pink cap on her head. They both had their eyes closed as they bonded tiredly.
It was an exhausting and emotional day.
Day tossed and turned all night. She couldn’t find a comfortable position to save her life. She also couldn’t shut off her brain with thoughts of Chase. He should be here. He should know, her conscience continued to nag her. Yeah right. Like Whitney would actually let him be here, she argued back.
Finally, a pain that radiated from her back, all the way around to her bulging stomach caused her to give up on sleep at 5 am. Day stood up and took a few steps towards the bathroom and liquid burst from between her legs and splashed on the floor of her apartment bedroom.
“Oh my God. My water broke. OH MY GOD! My water broke!” Day yelped as she realized that it was time for her baby girl to come.
She waddled painfully to the spare bedroom/nursery that her mother had been staying in to be nearby for Daylen’s big moment. She bent over her sleeping mother and shook her awake.
“Mom. It’s happening.” Day said with trepidation.
“Huh?” Pat asked groggily.