Chapter 21

High Notes, Scribbled Stories…

NOW

(Leith)

There was no longer any sign of Amy in my house. It was as though she had been a quick thought and that was it. I stared at her name in my phone and wasn't sure what the next move was. If there was a move at all. We were done. It had been done longer than what showed. We both had known and we both did nothing about it.

She had gone to New York as her final way of seeing how I felt.

I stayed home.

And that was it.

I changed the sheets and left the bedroom as it was.

Same for the rest of the house.

It was mine. The way it had always been.

I had only shared it with someone else for a little while.

I stood in the bathroom and splashed water on my face.

I reached for my phone and called the number I had found for Bucky.

He had been on my mind for a little while. One of my closest friends who was really smart but loved to be high all the time. He could have been a rocket scientist but instead he wanted to write. And he was good at it. Last I heard he was living a hippie kind of life, just writing stories, movies, writing for TV shows. Even writing lyrics for music.

I hadn't talked to him in years.

The last time I did was at a party where Amy wanted to leave because she didn't feel safe with the way everyone was partying. Which at the time I understood. We were both teachers and when the party moved beyond the scope of having a few drinks, it made sense to get out of there.

I left with regret and I blamed Bucky for it.

Then we just stopped talking.

His voicemail picked up with the same drawn out vowels that almost gave him a stoner surfer sound to his voice. But trust me, Bucky wasn't made for the beach or for surfing.

"Hey, Bucky," I said. "It's, uh, it's Leith. I know it's been a few hundred years. I, uh, was just thinking about some things… it would be nice to talk to you again. I'm sure we have a lot to catch up on."

I ended the call without saying goodbye.

My next call almost felt the same.

But hearing Beth's voice brought a sense of relief to me.

"What are you doing?" I asked her.

"Waiting for you to call," she said.

Her voice was soft and peaceful.

"I'm right here, angel."

"Maybe you should be here instead."

"Or maybe we should go out. Right now."

"Are you sure you're allowed out? It's not Thursday night."

I laughed. "I'm going to text you a place. That's where I'll be. You should show up."

"Should I?" Beth asked.

"If you're not busy."

"I'll see what's going on."

"Don't mess with me, Beth."

"You know me. I just do what I want."

"Yeah, everyone knows that."

"Talk to you later, Leith," she said.

It was a different bar than where we had met before.

And there was a damn good reason why I chose the place I did.

We sat across from each other, near a corner that was littered with pictures tacked to the wall. The pieces of wall that were exposed were drawn on with several color markers. It wasn't exactly a dive type bar but pretty close. It was relaxing though. Then again, with Beth across from me, I could have been sitting on fire and felt comfortable.

I noticed the left side of her hair kept falling forward. I loved watching her wrestle with it. The middle and ring fingers of her left hand always pushing it back behind her ear.

Staring at her the way I was… it was a deadly proposition to be in.

"Dani has cancer," Beth said, stripping away every thought from my mind.

"What's that?" I asked.

"My friend. Dani."

"Cancer? Shit. I'm so sorry."

"She called me right after you left the other morning."

"That's why you didn't answer my call?"

"I stayed with her the entire day and night. If I left her apartment, even for a second, I was going to scream."

"I can only imagine."

"She got her results online before she talked to the doctor."

"Oh, dammit…"

"Yeah. When the doctor called, they were on the phone for a little bit. I guess it's something where they're going to treat her and then check her again. It's not advanced. But still… that word…"

"I know," I said. "I hate that word."

"Your grandmother…"

"Yeah," I said. "She went fast though. She had it everywhere. I still remember seeing her bump her leg off the coffee table in the living room. And it turned into this horrible bruise. And then she couldn't walk on that leg. And I forced her to get it checked out. And… that was it. It was just so fast. The second a doctor muttered that word, she just fell apart. You know, I wondered what would have happened if she never knew. You know? Like, did finding out she had cancer make her just give up?"

"Jeez, Leith, that's deep," Beth said.

"Fuck. Sorry." I shook my head. "You were talking about your friend. And I changed the subject."

"It's fine," Beth said. "We're just talking. Hanging out."

"Tell me more about your friend."

"Nothing else to tell. She'll get treatments. And then she'll go from there."

Beth shifted in her seat.

She was uncomfortable talking about it.

Death always bothered her.

She started to look around the bar.

"So, want to hear something really crazy?" I asked.

"Sure," she said, focusing back on me.

"I have this student in my class. Anastasia."

"I love that name," Beth said.

"Yeah. Well, she's… she's one of a kind. I'm not picking on her or anything, but she's almost got a geeky look to her. She's really smart. Really advanced. She loves to do math. She reads books for adults. She's great at art. And she can sing. And I mean… sing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I had no idea either. I heard her the other day and it just made me stop. But the thing is, she's afraid to sing in front of other people."

"How did you hear her then?"

I grinned. "Through a door. When she goes to chorus she won't sing with the class. She does, but not loudly. So the chorus teacher, Mrs. V, kept her after class and worked with her."

"Why are you telling me this?" Beth asked.

I grinned even bigger and turned my eyes to the reason I chose the place we were at.

There was a small black stage, maybe only a foot off the ground. But it was a stage. And the crooked, worn flyer on the window of the bar said tonight was karaoke night.

"No," Beth said.

"What?"

"You're an asshole, Leith."

"What did I do?"

"You asked me out for this? To tell me a story of a little girl who can sing to get me to sing?"

"It sounds kind of dumb when you put it that way."

"So what's your plan then?"

"Well, it's been a long time since I heard your voice."

"It's been a long time since a lot of things for us," Beth said.

"Come on," I said. I reached across the table and touched her hand. "Just one song. Pick the cheesiest thing ever. I miss your voice."

Beth laughed. "I miss your stories."

"I just told you one. About Anastasia."

She tilted her head. "You know what I mean."

"And what kind of story do you want me to write for you?"

"I don't know," Beth said. "That's your job to figure out."

"You go sing, then I'll write you a story."

"Leith…"

I had her worked up. Which was always fun to see. Because she was the one always causing trouble. She was always the one getting people worked up.

Before Beth could say anything else, a guy walked up to the stage and asked if everyone was ready for some drinks and music. Half the people in the bar cheered. The other half didn't give a damn. The guy with the microphone didn't care. He stood at the side of the stage, turning on some music.

"Don't worry, I'm not singing," the guy said.

"That's good!" someone shouted.

"You suck!" another person added.

"My loyal fans," the guy said. "But I have to pass the mic along here. First up we have… Nicole…"

A few people clapped. A few women screamed.

"See?" I said to Beth. "It's all for fun. Nothing to worry about."

I watched as Beth glanced at the small stage. She didn't lick her bottom lip. Instead, her nostrils flared just a little and she looked like she ran her tongue along her teeth. That meant she was feeling a little annoyed, a little angry. A little jealous.

She missed it.

And whether she ever had a chance to be famous or not wasn't important. What was important was that singing was the one thing Beth believed in herself about. Same for her father. Same for me. Her father wanted to run me down with cop car so many times, but if there were two things we agreed upon it was that we both loved Beth and we both knew she could sing.

The woman on the stage started to belt out the lyrics.

But the notes…

I raised an eyebrow and Beth moved her eyes to mine.

"This is shit," she said.

"You sound like one of those judges on a singing show," I said.

"How can I not?" she asked. "She's off key. She can't hit a note if her life depended on it. The song choice is terrible for her. She should have picked something easier to just move along with."

I smiled.

"What?" Beth asked.

Behind me, the woman on the stage tried to hit a high note.

She missed it by a mile.

Her friends laughed and cheered her on.

"I love when you get like this," I said.

"Like what?"

"When you get all worked up about singing. I know it's still in there. I know it's still burning inside you."

"Your point?"

"Why are you holding back?"

"I could ask you the same question, Leith. And then we can go round and round with everything."

"Fair enough," I said. "Are you going to get up there and sing or not?"

"What if I don't? Are you going to disown me? Take off again?"

Again.

That word hurt.

I lowered my head and sighed.

"Leith…"

I reached with my right hand, took her left hand and squeezed tight. And I mean tight.

I stared into her eyes. "We can have that talk whenever you want, angel. I promise. And we can go as deep as you want to go with it. Find all the truths. Step on all the lies. Whatever you need from me."

"What is this that I need from you?" Beth asked.

"Then you have it," I said. "I'm sitting right here acro-"

The woman tried to hit another high note.

Way off, again.

I cringed as she kept going.

"I'm going to throw something at her," Beth said. "I'm going to throw my shoe at her. Hit her right in the mouth so she'll never sing again."

"Or maybe you can get up there and show everyone what it's supposed to sound like," I said.

"And you're going to write me a story?"

"I'll write you the greatest story ever, Beth."

She laughed.

She took her hand from mine and pushed at the table.

I leaned back in my chair and watched her stand.

She was going to do it.

I hadn't heard her sing in a really long time.

Her phone lit up on the table.

She looked down at it, looked away, then looked again.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"Actually, no," Beth said.

"What is it?"

"My friend, Holly."

"The one getting married," I said.

"Yeah," Beth said, frowning with what looked like guilt.

"What about?"

"She just text me… that she broke up with her fiancé."

I grabbed Beth's wrist at the last second.

I pulled her against me, her back to my chest. My arms slipped around her body as I hugged her from behind.

I lowered my mouth down to her ear.

"Keep in touch, angel," I said. "We'll get together again soon. You owe me a song."

"You owe me a story," she said back.

She turned her head.

I couldn't resist, so I kissed her.

I counted each kiss, and after the fourth one, it shifted to a different kind of kiss.

Then our good friend on the stage hit another bitter note and Beth broke away.

"I'm out of here," she said. "I can't hear that anymore."

I let her go and stood there as she worked her way out of the bar.

I knew the word marriage brought up a lot of old feelings for her. Hell, it did the same for me. Even though I wasn't the one who got married, then was divorced.

But I was somehow still part of the entire thing.

The woman on stage finally finished what felt like a ten minute song.

Half the place clapped.

I smacked my hands together twice and sat back down.

The same man from before got up on stage to announce that Tom was going to sing an old country song.

Great.

Our waitress came to the table and I asked to settle up on the tab.

"Strange question," I said. "Mind if I borrow a pen for a second?"

"No. Here."

She handed me a neon green pen.

I grabbed a napkin.

On stage, Tom was trying his best impression of a man with a really low voice with a southern drawl.

I clicked the pen a few times.

And then I went to work.

Writing Beth a story.