by Liza Street
But as soon as Eleanor’s fingers touched the keys, she found the notes and began to play without consciously choosing a piece. “Bye Bye Blackbird.” Talking to Hayley at the grocery store yesterday had brought the jazz standard to Eleanor’s mind, and she’d been unable to get the melody out of her head since.
Madison and her grandfather listened, rapt, while Eleanor played. She kept it short because Mr. Rosenfeld was usually on a tight schedule. When she was finished, she stood up and her two audience members clapped.
“Thank you,” Madison said, hurrying over to wrap her thin arms around Eleanor’s waist. “I loved that song.”
“You’re welcome,” Eleanor said. “Maybe we can find an arrangement of that song for you to work on. Would you like that?”
“Yeah!”
As Eleanor watched Mr. Rosenfeld and Madison drive away from her house, her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the unfamiliar number on the screen. Telemarketer, or potential new student?
How had her life gotten so lonely that she never guessed that an unfamiliar number could be a friend?
She slid her finger across the screen to answer. “Hello?”
“Hi, Eleanor? This is Hayley Jaynes.”
She couldn’t seem to escape that woman. Her breath caught, and her side hurt. Appendicitis? Impossible—she’d already had her appendix out. “Hi, Hayley. What’s up?”
“I saw your phone number on the bulletin board outside the library. For piano lessons?”
“Yeah, that’s me,” Eleanor said.
“Well, I’d like to schedule a lesson.”
“Oh!” That was unexpected. Hayley had never seemed interested before, but hey, a new student was a new student. If they saw each other regularly, it might be a battle to keep from thinking about Will, but it was a risk Eleanor would have to take. “Great. When are you available?”
Hayley made a hmm sound on the other end of the line. “Do you have anything on the weekends? Usually I could do a Saturday, but not this weekend.”
“I try to take Sundays off except for rescheduled lessons, but I could fit you in this Sunday afternoon,” Eleanor said, “as long as that’s not your regular lesson time, it’ll be fine.”
While Eleanor spoke, Fido came out from behind the couch—his favorite hiding spot during piano lessons. He twined around her ankles while she and Hayley hammered out details.
After Eleanor got off the phone, she slumped down onto her couch. A faint tonal sound echoed in her ear. What did that mean? She reached for her phone to ask Dr. Bridges, but Fido hopped into her lap, purring as he kneaded Eleanor’s sweater. Eleanor stroked him absently and sighed. “I think that was enough excitement for one day, don’t you?”
Her phone buzzed again, and it was the same number.
“Hi, Hayley,” she said.
“Hey, sorry, I’d forgotten my main reason for calling. The wedding.”
“The wedding?”
“Yeah, we’re kind of in a bind,” Hayley said. “It’s not a huge production, but Summer really wanted a pianist. And we had this guy from Lakewood, but he canceled last night…his sister lives in northern California and lost her house in the fires, so he’s staying down there to help her out.”
“And you want me to play for the wedding,” Eleanor guessed. “I give lessons on Saturdays.”
Fido glared at Eleanor until she resumed petting him.
“Can you cancel them?” Hayley asked. “Please? It’s for Jackson’s wedding. Jax has always loved you, Eleanor. He had a huge crush on you when he was in middle school, did you know that? And now he’s getting married.”
She could cancel or reschedule lessons. She could go to this wedding, help out in her own small way. And, what seemed a lifetime ago, she had been so close with the Jaynes family. In as casual a voice as possible, she said, “Did you say Will can’t be there?”
“I don’t know that I said can’t, but he’s a definite won’t,” Hayley said, her voice bitter. “Please do this for us. We’ll pay you, and it would mean so much to actually know the person playing. And we’d love for you to celebrate with us afterward.”
It would be easy enough to say no. To say her lessons couldn’t be rescheduled, to say that she would not help them out. But then she thought back to when her phone had first buzzed in her pocket and she’d seen the unknown number. And she’d guessed it would either be about telemarketing or work. Not an old friend or a family member trying to get in touch. After her parents had divorced, they’d both moved out of town for “fresh starts,” and most of Eleanor’s high school friends, Will included, had moved away.
This was her chance for something different. To not be alone. To reconnect with an old friend—and even better—without the danger of running into Will.
“I’ll do it,” Eleanor said.
Chapter Four
Will closed his laptop and leaned back in his chair. This motel room wasn’t quite as ugly as some he’d stayed in—the colors were subtle, and the wall lacked the usual offensive landscape or abstract painting.
Still, it was a motel room. He was tired of motel rooms. But the alternative, settling somewhere other than Huntwood, would slowly eat away at him. And settling in Huntwood? He couldn’t handle the thought. A strange, squirmy feeling of hope and dismay filled his chest, spreading outward in a hollow emptiness.
He couldn’t go back to Huntwood.
But if he could…shit. He wanted to, more than anything in the world.
Maybe Hayley and Jackson had it right—maybe Will was afraid. Afraid of being happy, and then having that happiness wrenched away from him again. On the run, traveling from place to place, he didn’t have time to think about any of that. Always at the front of his mind was the next destination.
Right now, in the upper western corner of the US, he had the whole map at his disposal. South to California to visit the Sierra Pride, or down the coast to visit the Pacific Coast Pack? Or directly east, toward the Corona Pride in Montana, or even farther than that to visit other packs, prides, and clans that he and his siblings had become acquainted with over the past four years?
That taste of home he’d gotten a couple of weeks ago had nearly done him in. It was time to start running again.
Jackson’s wedding, though. Would he really miss his brother’s wedding? Because he was afraid? No, he had to do this. He had to go. He’d go to the wedding and skip the reception.
In the back of his head, this had been his plan all along, hadn’t it? He could have high-tailed it from Canada down to Washington, then straight across to Idaho and through Montana on Interstate 90. Instead, he’d been taking his sweet time in southern British Columbia and even now he was only a couple hours away from Huntwood.
He’d been tricking himself by thinking no, even while his progress toward Huntwood was saying yes.
He picked up his phone and texted Hayley and Jackson. Usually he’d call, but he didn’t want to talk about any of this. He wrote, simply, I’ll be at the wedding on Saturday.
It was the right thing to do, even though his heart clenched at the very thought.
Unable to think about it anymore, he opened his laptop to begin working again. It was nearly nine p.m., but that was the beauty of freelancing—he made his own hours. His phone buzzed, and he glanced down at it. The screen showed an image, sent by Hayley. He couldn’t even read the words beneath it—his gaze was locked on one specific person in the photograph. The real reason he hadn’t been able to go back to Huntwood.
Ellie.
She sat next to Hayley and Marius. All three of them held drinks in their hands and were in the process of lifting them up in a salute. Nice fucking salute, Ellie with her curly hair, wearing a tight green top that brought out the olive tones of her skin. That shy smile on her face.
What the hell was Hayley thinking, buddying up with Eleanor McGowan?
He looked down at the caption. Yay, so glad you’re coming! Here are some pics from the rehearsal dinner. You
might recognize some old friends.
Did Hayley “the Troublemaker” Jaynes know what kind of shitty Pandora’s box she’d just opened? Did she mean “friends” or did she know about his and Ellie’s past? He and Ellie had tried to keep it quiet. It had been friendship at first, then it had morphed into something so powerful, Will hadn’t even known the word for it.
He enlarged the photo on his phone, cutting out Hayley’s and Marius’s heads, so he could focus on Ellie.
Eleanor Jean McGowan. Twenty-nine years old. It had been four years since he’d last seen her, but she didn’t look any different, other than missing the glasses she usually wore. Now her hazel eyes shone as they stared directly into the camera. Directly into Will.
Fuck. “Fuck!” he shouted, throwing his phone onto the bed. It bounced on the too-firm mattress and landed on the floor.
It buzzed again, three more times in rapid succession. He scrambled toward it, compelled to see whatever Hayley sent him, hating himself at the same time. God, he missed Ellie so bad it hurt, like a slashing pain through his body. It felt like that flaming beam from the house was falling on him all over again. Only this time, instead of landing on his leg, it had landed directly on his chest.
The phone buzzed again, and Will cursed. He bent down to retrieve the phone, careful about not putting too much weight on his left leg. Mostly the way he favored it had become second-nature, but right now, nothing was second-nature except his instinct to look through the texts and hopefully see more of Ellie.
He grabbed the phone and pulled up the texting app. Three more photos, followed by another message. Two of the photos were of Jackson and Summer, and the third was of Hayley and Marius. No Ellie? He held the phone too hard in his hand, felt the plastic give. Immediately he let it go. This was his only link to her. If the phone broke, he wouldn’t have this picture of Ellie.
The message following the barrage of images was simple, but he couldn’t help but read more into it. See any photos you like?
If Hayley had the slightest clue how he’d felt about Ellie before, she was goading him now. So he ignored her question and wrote back, Is that a dress you’re wearing? I didn’t know you did dresses.
Hayley: Special occasion, fuck-trumpet. I’m wearing another one for the wedding. Laugh and die.
Will: You look nice. Who’s that other woman?
Hayley: You don’t recognize Eleanor?
Will: Oh, that’s her?
He should text more often. It was so much easier to lie or say misleading things than when he spoke on the phone.
Will: I didn’t recognize her without her glasses.
Hayley: She’s the pianist for the wedding. And guess what—she told me she’s with Nathan Emory.
Will dropped his phone on the bed before he broke it. He’d already agreed to come to the wedding, not realizing he was signing up to be right there in the same room with the reason his heart was broken.
And she was seeing someone else now.
He didn’t want to believe that. She’d never liked Nathan Emory.
Even now, Will could picture Ellie’s shy smile. She’d worn braces during the first two years of high school. During their junior year, those braces were off but she still kept her smile small and tight. He could picture her like it was yesterday.
“Nathan asked me out,” Ellie had said in the school library one afternoon. She’d been “Eleanor” to Will then.
Will had held back a growl. When he was a seventeen-year-old, the lion was always near the surface, getting riled up at the slightest provocation. But this provocation didn’t feel slight at all. It felt like some interloper was threatening him and everything precious in this world.
Trying to keep his face blank, he’d said, “Do you want to go out with him?”
“Not really.” Eleanor kept her gaze on her notebook.
“Say no,” Will had said, impulsively. “Say you’re going out with me, instead.”
She’d laughed, then, that shy smile blossoming into joy.
The librarian shushed them.
“Thanks, Will,” Eleanor had whispered next. “But I don’t need an excuse to say no to Nathan. If I don’t want to go out with him, I won’t. I just thought it was interesting he asked.”
“Why interesting?” Will said, keeping his voice low now that the librarian had his eye on them.
“He’s going out with Andrea Potts.”
“What a dick,” Will said.
“Exactly.”
He hadn’t had the courage, then, to tell Ellie that he really did want to go out with her.
The buzzing of his phone brought him back to the present. Hayley again. You need a place to stay while you’re here? I can get you a room at Osprey’s Perch. Or maybe Marius’s place, before the lease runs out.
Ha, yeah right. He wasn’t staying in Huntwood a second longer than necessary. Get in, give the bride and groom a hug, get out. Will wrote back quickly, No thanks, I’m good.
A trip to Huntwood. Ellie would be there. That stretching, empty feeling in his chest, dismay mixed with hope, filled him again.
This was going to be a disaster.
Chapter Five
Eleanor finished running through the last of the pieces she’d play at the wedding. She’d play the old favorites—the wedding march, Pachelbel’s Canon in D, Bach’s Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, as well as a few other easier classical pieces.
She got dressed with a lot more confidence than she’d have felt otherwise, knowing she was about to attend the wedding of her ex’s brother. At the start of the rehearsal on Thursday, she’d asked Hayley and Jackson one last time about Will.
“So, other than the bride’s friend Becca, it’s just Hayley and Marius in the wedding party with Summer and Jackson?” Eleanor had said, purposefully going out of her way to not ask about Will specifically.
Hayley had given her a cunning look, like she could see through the question.
Will had been really good at ferreting out lies, half-truths, and concealments, as well. It must be a family trait. Or maybe they had just played a lot of that card game, Bullshit, and they knew when they smelled it.
Hayley was a little too discerning for Eleanor’s comfort.
Before leaving the house, she checked herself in the mirror one last time. She wore her softest leather boots and a long-sleeved sweater dress over thick tights. She’d forced her curly hair into a wild updo that had required nearly every bobby pin in her arsenal.
She decided to go with her glasses today—sometimes her contacts bothered her eyes and she didn’t want to tear up while she read the music. She knew the pieces by heart, but would be bringing the sheet music along with her anyway. Better safe than sorry, because it would suck to choke during the wedding.
After donning her coat, she went outside. Patches of ice covered the ground, and she skidded on the little sidewalk leading from her porch before catching her balance. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. That had been close. With much more care, she made her way to her ancient Subaru and got in.
While she waited for the engine to warm up, she thought about the Jaynes siblings. They’d always been so close. For Will to skip out on Jackson’s wedding signaled that he’d become exactly the dick she’d thought he was when he left town without an explanation.
She didn’t want to think about him right now, though. Her car’s CD player was broken, so she jammed the power button for the radio. Sandler and Young’s “I Sing Noel” flowed from the car’s speakers, and she blinked back tears. Holiday music? Now, when she was trying to keep it together? Before her parents had divorced, her mother always played her Christmas vinyls during the holidays. Once the family was broken, though, that tradition ended.
The song finished and she turned the radio off again. She didn’t want to cry before the wedding, and she didn’t want to be the cliché lonely person who “just needed friends and family to get through the holidays.” She had Fido and her friends in ILC, and her piano students. And it suit
ed her fine.
Just fine, she thought more firmly, wiping an extra bit of moisture from her eyes before it smeared her makeup.
Chapter Six
Will stood in front of the tiny church. A Nativity scene of wooden cut-outs graced the small lawn to the side of the doors. Shapes of Mary and Joseph painted blue and purple, and baby Jesus painted white and gold. The camels looked as if they’d been made by someone who had never seen a camel and only told briefly what they looked like, and one of the Wise Men looked downright fierce.
Will had missed this funny little town.
Strains of piano music reached his ears; Ellie was already playing while people found their seats. He straightened his suit jacket—a rushed purchase in Tacoma before making the turn to Huntwood—and walked inside.
Instead of a guest book, Jackson and Summer had placed a matted photograph of themselves on an easel. Brightly colored markers lined the ledge at the bottom of the easel, and a small card instructed guests to sign the mat.
Will scrawled his name, then realized some kind of message would be more appropriate. Moving the marker above his signature, he added, To a lifetime of happiness.
Only when he was finished signing did he realize that he’d signed just below Ellie’s message. Her tiny, straight characters were unmistakable, and a couple years ago, he’d even created a font using them as inspiration.
Well, hell and damn. Ellie’s message was exactly the same. To a lifetime of happiness. Will examined the markers. Could he change his message now? Where were the erasers? Where was the Wite-Out?
A sharp finger poked into his back. “Get inside, ass-cabbage. It’s show time.”
Will turned and gathered Hayley into a hug. “Good to see you too, sis.”
“Let go,” she said, squirming out of the hug. “Plenty of time to catch up later. Jackson’s already up there, and so is Summer’s best friend. Marius and I have to walk down together next.”