If I Could Stay

by Annette K. Larsen

  The message ended and I immediately tapped on the next one, which was dated eight days later.

  “I watched Warm Bodies,” he said, skipping any kind of greeting. “Somehow it makes complete sense that you would like a movie like that. I probably would have hated it if you hadn’t recommended it, but something about that main character girl reminded me of you.” The character who was surrounded by monsters that wanted to kill her. “You know—” I could hear his hesitation. “If you decided you wanted to call again, I could let it go to voicemail. If that makes you more comfortable, I understand.” More hesitation and a sigh. “I hope you call again.”

  His voice cut off and I went to the last voicemail, which was only a week old.

  “So, apparently this is a thing that I do now.” His tone was sardonic. “I call a phone number that may or may not be completely useless, and I leave messages. It hasn’t told me it’s disconnected yet though, so I’m hoping this exercise isn’t completely futile.” I heard the sound of a car door opening. “I’m going out of town for some training. You kind of inspired me to advance in my career, so thanks for that.” The engine revved in the background. “I’m stopping at my parents’ place on the way. I’m going to get me some homemade donuts. For the record, I would have shared with you if you had stayed.” He chuckled but it sounded unnatural. “Wish me luck, Angel.”

  I closed my eyes against the onslaught of emotion that washed over me. The fact that he had called me back, even without knowing I’d ever get the message, and that he’d left multiple messages, made me a little giddy. He and I had something. We really did. It was twisted and murky, full of unspoken secrets and a few outright lies, but it was something. And I hadn’t had that kind of a something—ever.

  I brushed the rogue tears from my cheeks. I needed to take the battery out soon, but I couldn’t leave him wondering. I pushed the return call button and let it ring, hoping he would remember that he had promised not to answer.

  His voicemail picked up and I swallowed down the knot in my throat as he asked for callers to leave a message. The beep came and I forced the words past my emotions. “Hey, Jack. Thanks for not answering. I know it probably seems like overkill.” There was so much I wanted to say, that I had planned to say, but now that I’d heard his messages, I didn’t know what I should say. “I hope your training is going well. I think it’s pretty ironic that I of all people inspired you to become more of a cop.” Ironic, yes, but it also made me incredibly proud—proud that he was one of the good ones, that I could give him a reason to be even better. “Is this just a weekend training gig, or is it more involved than that?” I glanced around the restaurant to be sure that no one was within earshot and noticed a couple of the posters on the wall of musicians from bygone eras. “I’m playing again. The violin,” I clarified. “I never told you, but I used to play the violin. It feels good to have one back in my hands again.” I looked at the clock and knew it was time to hang up. It was unlikely that anyone knew anything about this phone, but I forced myself to keep things short. “I need to go. Don’t get into trouble, Officer Trent.”

  I ended the call and immediately disconnected the battery and put it away. As I grabbed my purse and left the restaurant, I couldn’t help the little smile that pulled at my lips.

  ***

  JULY

  Nina and I were able to get on the same schedule at work, which allowed me to fall into an easy rhythm with the other employees. She was like my own walking anti-anxiety medication. Her easygoing nature and wholehearted acceptance of me made me feel almost normal. Almost.

  Of course, the one downside of it was that Charlie liked to come eat while we were working. And she liked to bring friends. Groups of friends, which usually included at least one guy that she thought I should meet.

  I was deep into a Saturday night shift when she appeared across the bar from me, wearing her signature grin.

  I waved her off before she could start. “Not now, Charlie. I’ve got too much that I need to keep straight in my head right now.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  “I don’t want you to wait,” I said as I continued to punch in the order for the table of six that I’d just taken. “I want you to not parade another guy around for me.”

  “Come on, Sage,” she whined. “Don’t you think it might actually be fun to have friends besides me and Nina?”

  “I’ve certainly thought about replacing you.” I looked up and smiled at her so she would know I was teasing.

  She was undeterred. “Just look at the booth in the corner.”

  I sighed in defeat and did as she asked. Nina was already there, chatting with the group of five people seated there. “I assume I’m supposed to check out the blond guy?”

  “He’s a musician.”

  I shook my head but smiled all the same. “I’ll come over and say hi when I get a minute.” I printed out a ticket and tore it free. “But right now, I really have to work.”

  “Okay.” She pushed away from the counter and went to join her table.

  It was forty-five minutes before I made it over to them, mostly because I really didn’t want to endure the awkward moment when Charlie introduced me to the musician with that expectant and completely obvious look on her face. It always made me feel bad for the poor guys. This time was no different and I walked away wanting to smack my forehead into a wall.

  I wished I could just tell Charlie that I already had a guy, but of course I couldn’t. She’d want to know all the details. She’d want to know why I had never mentioned him and why I never talked to him and why he wasn’t around.

  Also, there was the conundrum of not actually knowing if I had him.

  I wanted him; that much was obvious, but could I really consider Jack to be my guy when all we had were voicemails? It was depressing to know that the possibility of toe-curling attraction and the love of a good guy was right there for the taking, but I wasn’t allowed to take it.

  The next day, I woke up early to drive down to Phoenix. I pulled into a park on the west side of the city and stayed in the car to check my messages. The phone that Renee had given me was as empty as ever, but when I turned on my other burner, there was one message.

  I grinned and held it to my ear.

  “The violin, huh?” Jack was out of breath, like he’d been exercising. “Will you play something for me? I don’t care what it is, I’d just like to hear you play. I’ve never been musically inclined, so it’s not hard to impress me. Just put the phone on speaker and play whatever you feel like.” Someone spoke in the background, and Jack must have covered the microphone because everything got muffled for a few seconds before he came back on. “Sorry about that. You asked about training, and to answer your question: it was more involved than just a weekend gig, but it’s done now. I was looking for a new challenge, since I haven’t had a challenge in…well, in too long. And it did challenge me, but now I’m ready to actually move on to something else.” He took a deep breath and then, “I’m moving, Angel. Crazy, right? But I’m stoked. I’m moving to Denver. Bigger city, bigger precinct. Less small town ‘charm’ to deal with.” I heard the quotes he put around charm. “It’s going to be hard work, but hard work is good for me right now. It keeps me from thinking about the girl that got away. And in case there be any confusion, that’s you. So please stay safe, and call me when you can.”

  I bit my lip as my heart and stomach and lungs filled with a nervous, wonderful energy. I was the girl that got away, and he had confidently admitted it. Also—he was moving. To Denver. Wow. Denver was a lot closer than Missouri. It was just kitty-corner to Arizona. I shook that thought loose and told myself it didn’t matter how close he was. I was a danger magnet, and I wouldn’t put him within my magnetic field, or whatever you wanted to call it.

  I went back and re-listened to the message, closing my eyes so that I could focus on the words, letting their meaning seep into me. He wanted to hear me play, and he was seeking distraction from the fact that I had left.r />
  Too bad I didn’t have my violin with me. I would have enjoyed playing something just for him. Instead I had to settle for a regular message.

  “Hey Jack, I can’t believe you’re moving. That’s awesome. I hope that it will be the challenge you’re looking for. I’m sure you’ll do great. Just don’t let the other kids tease you about being new.” And don’t let any new girls catch your eye. “I would love to play something for you, but I’m afraid I can’t this time. I promise I’ll make it happen next time, though. It will be a concert for one, so prepare to be dazzled. Or not. I’m pretty rusty.” I ran my finger along my steering wheel. “Getting back into playing has been interesting. I’m excited because it’s familiar, and familiar is good. I don’t have much of that. But it’s also something that my father always encouraged me to do—made me do—so I have a bunch of odd emotions tied up in it. But still, I love the music, and I crave the familiarity.” I needed to change the subject before I started telling him that he was familiar and that I needed him. “I’ll be heading to work soon.” Or at least, soon after I got home from my little trip. “I’m a server at a restaurant and you should see the getups they have us wear. I feel ridiculous, but I figure it’s just one more layer of anonymity, right? And you know how I love anonymity.” I gave a wry chuckle. I actually hated my anonymity, but it was a necessary evil. “Thank you for your calls, by the way. It’s nice to know that at least one person knows me. Bye.”

  I pressed the end button, my heart light and happy. But that faded all too soon as the hopelessness of our relationship sank in again.

  Maybe it wasn’t hopeless. Maybe something would change, or maybe I would get brave enough to throw caution to the wind…but I doubted it.

  ***

  AUGUST

  I chose another park and went through the motions of checking Renee’s phone (no messages) before connecting the battery to my burner and waiting for Jack’s voice to come over the line.

  “I do know you. Though I certainly wouldn’t object to getting to know you more, possibly even in person. But I understand why that’s not possible right now. I really do.” He let out a gusty sigh and I smiled, missing him. “Any chance you’ll tell me what kind of ‘getup’ you have to wear as a server?” he asked suddenly. “There’ve been all sorts of options flipping through my head, and I’m not sure it’s a good idea to leave it up to my imagination.”

  I put a hand over my mouth even though no one was around to hear me giggle.

  “Don’t forget that you promised to play something for me. I am fully prepared to be dazzled. Anyway…I miss our movie nights. Any other recommendations for me?” He chuckled, low and throaty. Then he told me about his new house in Denver, even gave me the address, which I wrote down. “Moving sucks. You forget that until you’re in the middle of it, then you wonder how in the world you accumulated so much crap. Anyway. New place is nice. Be safe, Angel.”

  Leaning my head back, I held the phone to my chest, fairly certain that I was twitterpated. Was it real, though? With the high-stress situation that had spawned our relationship (was it a relationship?), could what we shared actually be considered real and legitimate?

  I certainly hoped so.

  It took me just a minute to pull out my violin and tune it before taking it and my phone out of the car. There was a picnic table beneath a tree at the edge of the park. Luckily it was midday, so there was hardly anyone around. Anyone with the slightest sense of self-preservation wouldn’t be out in this August heat, anyway.

  I dialed Jack’s number. The voicemail beep sounded. “Hey Jack, I hope you’re loving you new place. As for my work outfit: sorry, but it’s a highly guarded secret. However, I am fully prepared to attempt to dazzle you. I love playing again. I’ll even be starting lessons soon.” Lessons, college courses—same thing, right? “Anyway, I promised to play you something, so this is my favorite piece.” I set my cell on the table and pushed the speaker phone button then settled the instrument under my chin.

  My eyes closed and I coaxed the first drawn-out note from the strings. It was a piece I had memorized when I was fifteen, and it was the first piece I had wanted to be able to play again. It vacillated between slow emotive notes and frantic runs and arpeggios.

  When I finished I had to blink myself back into the present before I could remember to push the end button.

  ***

  SEPTEMBER

  I did not understand math.

  School had started two weeks ago, and I had to wonder whose idea it was to require math as part of a college education. It didn’t make sense, and even if it did, I was certainly never going to need it. I would much rather be down at the gym training, or in one of the music rooms playing my violin. But no, I was stuck at this picnic table, scratching numbers onto paper in the hopes that I might stumble onto the right answer.

  At least the weather was nice. September in Flagstaff was a beautiful thing.

  This homework, however—not so beautiful. I was hunched over it, my elbow on the table and my head resting on my palm, letting my hair obscure my face out of habit. I was still scowling at my paper when someone slid onto the bench across from me. I didn’t look up, but listened closely and paid attention to the way the person moved in my peripheral vision before determining that they didn’t pose a threat.

  I went back to my math, while keeping my senses attuned for any threatening move. Then a whiff of their scent reached me, and I stilled.

  This happened sometimes. Usually it was the sound of someone’s voice or laughter. Sometimes it was the glimpse of a face or the way someone walked. My entire body would be brought to attention by the reminder of Jack. My heart would jump, trying to reach out for him, and then inevitably fall on its face two seconds later when it became clear that it wasn’t Jack. It wasn’t his face or his voice. It wasn’t him walking ahead of me or laughing off to my right. Just like I was certain that it wasn’t him sitting across from me.

  But I had to look anyway, because my pathetic little heart cried out, What if it is?

  I glanced up and immediately back down, ready for the disappointment and the small wave of sadness that washed over me. It wasn’t Jack. This guy was more blond and less built.

  I went back to staring at my math, hoping my Jedi mind powers would force it to make sense. It didn’t.

  I held out for another week and a half before driving down to Phoenix. Things would be so much simpler if I could just check my phones in Flagstaff. Or, better yet, if I could just call and talk to him. But I couldn’t. So I drove, and I checked.

  No messages from Renee. Two voicemails from Jack. I pulled up the first.

  “That was…incredible.” He sounded genuinely impressed and my chest swelled with pride. “I mean, I assumed that you’d be good, but I guess I didn’t expect it to affect me that much. It was…I don’t know. Just—thank you for playing that for me. It means a lot that you would do that, over the phone, in a voicemail. I’m sure I’ll be listening to it a couple more times.” There was a smile in his voice that had me biting my lip.

  I heard the muffled sound of someone saying, “Time to go, Trent,” and then he came back on.

  “It’s later than I thought. I have to go.” The sound of his movements came across the line as he finished up. “I’m going to try to call back this evening so I can finish telling you how amazing you are. Bye, Angel.”

  My cheeks were decidedly warm by the time the message ended, and I eagerly tapped on the next one.

  “Hey, sorry I couldn’t call you back the other day. I have a lot less time to myself than I used to. Maybe you won’t even notice though, since I’m guessing you don’t check your phone all that often. I’m pretty sure you’re trying to teach me the virtue of patience. It’s working, but I still hate it.” He let out a little breathy laugh. “My mom thinks I’m acting weird. Whenever I’m on the phone with her, she tries to get me to tell her about the girl that must have me distracted. Don’t worry though, I’ve fended off all of her interrog
ations. Not an easy thing, but being in a different state helps. She could sweet talk a confession out of a hardened criminal. If she got a hold of you, I’m sure she’d get you to confess what sort of outfit you have to wear at work. Cowgirl? Medieval damsel?” He let out a groan. “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll just have to keep going on about how amazing your musical skills are. Am I going to be able to see you performing in a famous symphony some day? I guess that all depends on your father, doesn’t it.” There was an edge of bitterness in his voice that surprised me. “I’m sorry, Angel. I’m sorry you have to live this way, but you’re doing the right thing. Stay safe for me, all right?”

  The message ended. He thought I was doing the right thing? Since when? I knew he tried to be understanding. I knew he didn’t necessarily blame me for leaving, but I’d never thought he actually agreed with what I had done.

  So what had changed? Maybe the reality of who I was had finally sunk in.

  I stared at the phone, puzzled by the change, until I realized that I was leaving the phone on for too long. I needed to call him back so I could power it down.

  I called and the rumble of his voice invited me to leave a message. “Your mom sounds awesome. I hope you know how lucky you are. As for seeing me play with the symphony—I seriously doubt it. But, I have had the chance to play with a full orchestra, which was amazing. My father only ever let me take private lessons so I could perform solo pieces. I really like playing with an orchestra, though, and I’ve met some incredibly talented people. And,” I said, dipping my shoulder as an unusual sense of pride welled up, “would you believe that I even made some friends in my building? They kind of invaded my life, and I’m glad for it. Apparently I need people like that. People who invade my space.” I furrowed my brow, confused by how true my ramblings sounded. “Anyway, I’d better get going. Be good, Officer Trent.”