Drummer Girl

by Karen Bass

  “Go get some fresh air, Sid.” He pointed to the courtyard.

  “Fine.” Sid stood. The first step was a bit of a wobble, but only because of her stupid heels. She raised her chin and wove through the tables to the open French doors. Walk slow, she told herself. Just like learning a new drumming groove; you’ve got to go slow before you can pick up the pace.

  Even the night was made to order. Warm enough to go sleeveless, a few stars visible above the haze of lights. Sid twirled as she looked up at them. Her ankle wibbled. She staggered sideways. A man about James’s age caught her and steered her toward a stone bench. “Better sit, missy, and let your head clear a bit.”

  Sid snorted. She was fine. It was the stupid sandals that were the problem.

  Inside, a band tuned up. Of course Aunt Kathy would have a live band. Apparently they’d been set up behind some curtains that Sid had thought were just a backdrop for the head table.

  Heather flopped onto the bench beside Sid. “God, I’m so glad that’s over. Weren’t those speeches brutal?”

  “Guess so. I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Heather laughed. “I noticed you gawking around. But at least you looked good doing it.”

  “Thanks to you.” Sid tilted her head. “Where’s your guy?”

  “Mom didn’t know who to seat him with, so he begged out of the meal. He’ll be here any minute. He made big mileage with Mom by saving her that hassle, though I don’t know why she didn’t seat him with you.” A smile lit her face. “There he is. Finally I can have some fun.”

  Heather walked swiftly across the courtyard, her stiletto heels clacking on the stone. How did she walk on such high heels without breaking her ankle?

  Sid stayed where she was until the music started and everyone was herded inside to watch the bride and groom dance their first dance. They swept around the floor like they’d taken lessons. Which they probably had. Aunt Kathy didn’t leave things to chance.

  The bridal party joined in, then the parents of the bride and groom. On the second song, all sorts of people drifted onto the dance floor. Sid hovered by the French doors and listened. The drummer kept it tame. He looked bored. Bet he wants to rip loose with a solo.

  Someone bumped into Sid. Grey suit, black curls. He turned. “Sorry.”

  “S’okay. At least it was actually your fault this time.”

  He squinted, then smiled. “Oh, right. Cousin to the bride. Ah...”

  “Sid. Actually it’s Sidney but only teachers and Heather call me that. And you’re Brad.”

  “Yeah. Not good with names. Sorry.”

  “Are you going to apologize every other time you open your mouth? It’s fine.” Sid glanced at the dance floor where a slow song was ending. She wished Brad would move on. She couldn’t think of anything to say. But he didn’t. He shuffled his feet a little, like he was testing to see how slippery the floor was. The next song started. Uptown Girl. An oldie, but the song suited Mandi perfectly. Sid’s heel clicked against the floor in time to the cheerful beat.

  Brad shuffled his feet some more. His squint deepened. “Would you, ah... I’m not very good but... If you’d like...”

  Sid narrowed her eyes. “The word is dance, Brad. Would you like to dance?”

  “Would you?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked out on the floor. Brad was a little spastic. She could see him counting the beat under his breath. She tried to get into the music but her ankles kept threatening collapse. Twice she bumped into people. Then Brad bumped into someone. What was he doing, making fun of her?

  As soon as the dance ended, Sid made a beeline toward the French doors. Brad caught up to her. “I...was hoping we could dance more than one.”

  Sid planted her hands on her hips. “Were you mocking me?”

  “Mock? Ah no. I’m just...not a good dancer. But it was fun. Wasn’t it?” His blue eyes were in shadow and he looked vaguely forlorn. A lost puppy look if she’d ever seen one.

  Sid released an impatient breath. “Fine. We can dance another. But I can’t move in these stupid shoes so you’d better not have a problem with me ditching them.”

  “No.” He blushed a deep red and pulled glasses from his inside pocket. “If you don’t mind me wearing these at least I won’t bump into anyone.”

  “You wear glasses?”

  “Every day.”

  “Why not tonight?”

  He shrugged. “My little sister told me I look better without them on, but then assured me that black frames are...nerdy chic, I think she said. I’m pretty sure she was mocking me.”

  “Well, little sisters are pains. I should know. I am one.”

  Brad smiled and put on his glasses. Square, heavy and black. Sid giggled. He said, “What?”

  “I’ve seen kids wearing black rims, so your sister’s probably right. But on you...well, don’t hate me, but those glasses just seem...”

  “Nerdy.”

  Sid nodded. “You kind of look like a math geek, actually.”

  “I am one.”

  Sid grinned. “Where’s your pocket protector?”

  “In my other shirt.”

  Her jaw almost dropped. “You’re kidding.”

  Brad smiled. “Yeah. Still want to dance?”

  Sid nodded. They headed onto the floor. And stayed there until the band took a break. They conquered one awkward moment when the music slowed to a waltz by looking around and copying the positioning of a couple James’s age. It felt nice, Sid thought, weird but nice.

  During the break, the caterers set out food at the back of the hall, but Sid and Brad decided to sit in the courtyard. She was surprised that they found so much to talk about. They both liked action and adventure movies but not the cop/buddy variety. They both despised peanut butter sandwiches, loved thunderstorms, wanted to try bobsledding, and disliked it when someone wore too much aftershave or perfume.

  Their conversation continued to bounce all over the place until the band resumed playing. They were the third couple on the dance floor and stayed there the rest of the night. With each slow song, their embrace became more comfortable. Twice a guy asked to cut in but Sid refused. When the band announced last dance and started into a half decent rendition of Unchained Melody, Sid wrapped her arms around Brad’s neck and his arms encircled her waist. Sid laid her head against his chest, closed her eyes, listened to the thump-thump of his heart, and finally understood the appeal of this kind of dancing. Their combined heat tingled over Sid’s skin.

  When the song ended they stood unmoving for a few seconds. Then Brad stepped back, his ears pink. He took Sid’s hand, led her off the dance floor and into the hotel lobby where people were mingling as the dance broke up. They stood off to the side behind a circle of leather chairs and eyed each other in silence.

  The pink spread from Brad’s ears to his cheeks. “Will you be at the gift opening tomorrow?”

  “I was hoping to skip out.”

  “Oh.” His long face looked suddenly longer.

  Sid felt a little lurch in her stomach. “But if you’re going to be there...”

  He nodded. “My folks are helping with lunch and stuff.”

  They stared for another moment. Brad’s glasses seemed to magnify his blue eyes, making it even harder to look away. Sid wanted to... She didn’t mean to lunge. Her lips smacked against his; she knocked his glasses askew. She settled back on her heels, uncertain what to do or say.

  He looked surprised. “G-girls don’t usually...w-want to kiss a guy with...”

  “I do.” And she did. He might wear more-nerdy-than-chic glasses, but he was nice and funny and had even improved in his dancing to the point where he had looked like he was enjoying it.

  Brad hesitated for another moment then lowered his head so slowly that Sid finally ar
ched up. Their lips and nose bumped. They both flinched then, eyes open, began to move their lips. They drew back, tried again. Brad’s lips were warm against Sid’s, warm and wonderful.

  Sid’s hands found their way to his chest. Her eyes closed and her hands drifted up and locked behind his neck. When his tongue ran along her bottom lip, Sid almost gasped and her mouth opened. Their tongues connected. Sid didn’t even try to sort the sensations rippling through her. All she knew was that her insides were melting.

  Someone tapped Sid on her shoulder. She started and pulled out of Brad’s embrace, wondering absently if she looked as flustered as he did.

  Devin said, “Here are your shoes, Cinderella. Dad’s gone to get the car. Be lucky he didn’t see you or he’d morph into the evil step-mother.” Devin held out one black sandal to Brad. “Were you wanting this so you can do the Prince Charming thing?”

  This time Brad turned stop-sign red. “N-no thanks. I, um, better go, too.” He hurried away.

  Sid grabbed her shoes from Devin. “Jerk.”

  “Just doing my big brother routine.” Devin grinned.

  “Yeah, well you don’t have to enjoy it so much.”

  “Sure do. ‘Cuz you were enjoying it way too much, little sis.” He pointed toward a multi-paned window framed by green velvet curtains. “There’s Dad now.”

  Sid wrinkled her nose at him and marched toward the hotel entrance, glancing around in hopes of catching sight of Brad again, but she didn’t see him anywhere. She never thought that she’d look forward to something like a gift opening, but now it couldn’t come soon enough.

  14 | flam with a dominant right hand

  “Oh. My. God.” Heather crowded Sid into the corner of the living room as soon as she walked in. Heather whispered, “I can’t believe you danced all night with that total geek.”

  “Who, Brad?”

  “Who, Brad?” Heather mimicked in a squeaky voice. “Of course, Brad. What were you thinking?”

  “He’s nice.” And he kisses great, Sid added silently. She tried not to smile.

  Heather sighed. “Why am I bothering to help you with this? Why would you settle for Brad when you could catch the eye of someone popular?”

  Sid poked Heather on the collarbone. “I had to deal with a few of those popular guys last week. I’ll take nice any day. Besides, he’s kind of cute.” Heather wrinkled her nose and Sid shook her head. “Look past the glasses, cousin.”

  “Let me guess. You’re saying he’s like Clark Kent hiding his secret identity behind ugly glasses? Give me a break. I’ve known that geek since we moved into this house.”

  “No. You’ve lived beside him. You’ve never taken the time to get to know him. He was never popular enough for you to bother.”

  “Like you know him so well after just one night of dancing. And necking. Eww.” Heather’s nose wrinkled again.

  How did Heather know about that? Sid thought. Oh right, they’d been in the lobby along with everyone else. How could she get so wrapped up in a kiss that she forgot where she was?

  Heather plucked Sid’s sleeve. “And another thing, what’s with this ugly t-shirt?”

  “Starman is not ugly.” Sid peered downwards. She had thought it a great idea to pair her white Rush t-shirt with the short skirt that had gotten her into trouble in carpentry class. She had rolled up the sleeves so they were more like cap-style and had cinched in the waist with an old navy belt she had borrowed from Devin. The navy matched her skirt and flats and the buckle matched the silver wrist bangle necklace. All in all, Sid was pleased with the effect. She smiled. “I feel way more comfortable when my neckline isn’t threatening to cause a wardrobe malfunction.”

  “Impossible.”

  “What’s impossible?” Both girls jumped. Brad smiled at them and repeated the question.

  Heather snapped, “Where did you come from?”

  Brad half closed one eye. “From next door.”

  Sid laughed. Heather spun and marched away, arms swinging. Sid said, “Thank you for rescuing me.”

  “Did I?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Brad smiled. He had a beautiful smile that made his eyes seem to shine. Or maybe it was the reflection of his glasses. Sid tilted her head and studied him. He asked what she was looking at. She replied, “Have you ever thought about getting different glasses?”

  A frown replaced the smile. “You sound like my little sister.”

  “Don’t get angry. It’s just that you have nice blue eyes and the thick frames kind of hide them.”

  “You think I have nice eyes?”

  Very nice eyes, made nicer by a blue shirt that matched their colour. Instead of saying that, Sid started to make a snide comment about male vanity. Devin appeared beside them and introduced himself. He offered his hand and squeezed when Brad took it, making him wince.

  “Don’t be a jerk, big brother,” Sid said.

  Devin attempted to look innocent. “Just introducing myself. We didn’t get the chance last night. Are you two joining the throng on the deck? The gift opening is going to start soon.”

  “How long will this take?” Sid asked.

  “Judging by the pile of gifts, probably a couple of hours.”

  Sid groaned. “We just sit there and watch them open stuff for hours?”

  “Don’t forget the oohing and aahing. We are required to gush.”

  No doubt Aunt Kathy would punish anyone who didn’t, even though Sid knew she’d be gushing enough for everyone. Brad and Sid exchanged pained looks. Sid inhaled sharply as an idea hit. She grabbed Devin’s left wrist and twisted it to see his watch. “Two o’clock. Perfect. We could go to Rake’s and jam for an hour. No one would miss us here.”

  “What?” Brad said, his forehead furrowed under black curls.

  Devin replied, “She wants to go to a jazz club and play music with some old dudes.”

  Understanding did not smooth Brad’s brow. Sid smiled. “Devin could give us a ride.”

  “No,” Devin replied. “I’m doing my family duty even if you prefer to bolt.”

  Sid shaded her mouth and spoke in a loud whisper. “Translation: the hot chick he was hitting on at the dance is here.” She dropped her hand. “Come on, Dev. It’ll only take a few minutes to drive us.”

  “I could drive,” Brad said.

  Devin and Sid stared at him. She said, “You have your licence?”

  Brad nodded. “I’ll have to okay it with Dad, but I’m sure he’d let me use the Jeep.”

  Sid beamed at Devin. “Problem solved. See you later, big brother.”

  “Dad’s going to be pissed.”

  “Dad won’t even miss us.” She gave him a warning look. “And you won’t tell him.”

  Minutes later Brad and Sid were pulling out of his driveway in a 10-year-old, slightly rusty Jeep. Sid gave directions to Rake’s jazz club and fiddled with the radio until she ran across Metallica’s “Enter Sandman.” She cranked up the volume and sat back to enjoy the ride. Every time Brad glanced at her, she gave him a wide smile.

  Rake’s Piano Bar wasn’t open on Sundays, but Rake’s friends knew the door was unlocked so they could drop in. School work had kept Sid away for two months. She tried to keep from bouncing as Brad pulled into a parking spot across from the red door with green panels and frame. The old-fashioned sign of light bulbs that spelled out the club’s name was dark.

  She was out the door and around the Jeep before Brad turned off the engine. He climbed out. “I don’t get it. Metallica on the radio and now you’re going to play jazz?”

  “It’s all about the drumming.”

  “Oh. You said something about drums last night, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” She took him by the hand. “I play them.” He looked as if he were trying to decide if he shoul
d be impressed. He asked why she drummed. As she led him across the quiet street, she said, “It’s all about loving the beat. When I was first learning I had to count it.”

  “Sounds like math.”

  Sid blinked. “I never thought of it that way. But after a while you don’t have to count anymore. Then it’s about feeling the beat.”

  Sid pulled Brad into the darkened entry. A coat-check room yawned to the left like an empty cave. Through the archway on the right, voices were raised and laughing. Sid picked out Rake’s voice. “We here to play or to laugh at Jo-Jo’s jokes? Ten Pin, count us down.”

  The clack of a drumstick against a wooden block silenced the voices. Drumming began like a bristling whisper. Brush on snare, thought Sid. She gave Brad’s hand a tug and they walked into the club as the piano joined in, quietly playing in the lower keys. A saxophone eased in with a mournful wail that sounded like someone crying over a lost lover. The band was at the other end of the room, absorbed in the music. Sid didn’t recognize the woman who sat on a bar stool in the middle of the stage, eyes closed, head bobbing to the music.

  “Want to dance?” Brad whispered in her ear.

  Sid smiled and turned to him, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck like it was where they belonged. Instead of embracing her, Brad rested his hands on her hips and created two hot spots that made Sid intensely aware of their closeness. She didn’t realize the music had stopped.

  “’Scuze me, folks,” Rake called from the stage. “Club’s closed. We be open again on Tuesday.”

  Sid slid her hand down Brad’s arm and took his hand, then wove through the three rows of round tables to the dance floor where the lighting was turned up.

  Ten Pin whistled at the same instant that Rake said, “Sid, honey. Is that you?”

  “I told you I’d drop by soon.”

  “Never seen you in a skirt.”

  From his drummer’s stool, Ten Pin said, “You clean up real nice, Sid.”

  She grinned up at Brad. “See why I like this place? It’s like having a hoard of extra grandpas.”