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    The Day Before

    Page 8
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      I sigh as I run

      my fingers through my

      messy, sandy hair.

      “Just come home. Please?”

      “You’re not gonna win this one, Kel.

      I’m sorry.

      Tell them I’m fine, all right?

      And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      She sniffles.

      “Love you, Jelly.”

      “Love you too, Kelly Belly.

      I gotta go.”

      I hang up,

      my heart racing,

      the back of my neck sweaty.

      “Hey, Amber?”

      Cade knocks.

      “You okay?”

      “I’ll be out in a minute.”

      Cade’s words echo

      in my head.

      I bet others would say screw it,

      and just not go back.

      Six months ago

      Dear Amber,

      Like I told you when you were ten, you can tell me anything, ask me anything, even if you have to write it down.

      Here’s what you have to remember—you are a strong girl. I admire you and your strength. Look at how you helped your sister, and even me at times, through the divorce. You have such a good head on your shoulders.

      You can do this. You can! And you know we’ll be right by your side doing everything we can to help you through this.

      Although you will have to leave the things and people you love, you’ll always come back to them. You aren’t losing us, sweetheart. I know it may feel that way, but you’re not losing us! We can talk every day on the phone, we can do Skype chats, I’ll even come down a couple of times and spend the weekend with you. I’ve already checked with Allen and Jeanie, and they said they wouldn’t have any problem with that.

      We must stick together and adjust to this big change.

      Thank you for letting me know how you feel. I’m always here for you—don’t ever forget that. No matter where you are, I’m here for you.

      I love you,

      Mom

      more surprises

      Back at the table,

      I want to put everything

      out of my mind

      except for Cade.

      While we wait for food to come,

      we stick to safe

      topics of conversation.

      Our favorite seafood—

      him: lobster

      me: crab

      What we like to read—

      him: graphic novels

      me: realistic fiction

      Our pets—

      him: a dog named Boo

      me: a cat named Tiny

      How said pets got their names—

      him: white like a ghost

      me: the fattest cat you’ve ever seen

      How many girlfriends/boyfriends we’ve had—

      him: two

      me: one (although I don’t tell him it was one

      of those fake fifth-grade romances)

      Whether we are attached at the moment—

      him: no

      me: no

      And then we get

      quiet.

      Luckily the waiter

      brings our food.

      Steak and lobster.

      “Uh, this is your usual?” I ask.

      “My mom’s a vegetarian.

      I can’t eat like this at home.

      Plus, my older brother owns the place.”

      “Family discount, then?”

      He smiles.

      “Thanks.

      For bringing me here.”

      As if on cue,

      music starts to play.

      It sounds like it’s coming

      from upstairs.

      I take my knife and fork

      and tap out the beat

      on the table.

      It makes him laugh.

      “I had a feeling you might like it here.”

      And I have a feeling,

      as the drumbeats

      get louder,

      that he is exactly right.

      where I belong

      Bellies full

      of surf and turf

      and spirits tired

      of trying too hard

      to keep things simple,

      we head upstairs.

      A small crowd

      has gathered

      to listen to the band.

      The loud, fast music

      with a hard edge

      comes at us,

      and I feel it

      slicing

      us

      wide open.

      They want us

      to feel the loudness,

      not just hear it.

      And people do,

      raising their fists

      in the air,

      punch,

      punch,

      punching it out,

      showing the band

      they’re with them

      all the way.

      It’s not the best

      music in the world,

      and who knows

      what the hell

      the lyrics are,

      but right now,

      loud works.

      I watch the drummer

      and focus on

      the rhythm he plays.

      He pounds out

      the beats

      with purpose,

      and my arms ache

      to make some noise.

      Cade leans in,

      yells in my ear,

      “Do you want to play?”

      “What? With them?” I ask.

      “Yeah. I know them.

      They’re cool.”

      They finish the song and the

      lead singer bends down

      to grab his drink.

      “But I don’t know their songs.”

      “I bet you can find something.”

      I can’t deny it. I’d love to play.

      Still, I try to keep it cool.

      “Sure. If they’re up for it.”

      He runs up onstage and

      I see him talking

      and pointing at me.

      It’s not long before

      I’m onstage, Cade

      introducing me

      to the band members,

      Martin, Chase, and Henry.

      “How about some White Stripes?” I ask.

      “Seven Nation Army?” Henry suggests.

      I nod.

      Awesome.

      The drummer, Chase,

      jumps offstage and heads

      for the bar.

      I sit down.

      I raise my arms in the air.

      And before I know it,

      there is nothing in this

      world except me

      and the rhythm

      and the music

      and the display of fists

      telling me that right now,

      everything is exactly

      how it should be.

      music is such an aphrodisiac

      It’s the release

      I needed.

      I play like a girl

      possessed.

      The boys offer me

      the gift of

      a solo, so I take it,

      open it up,

      and make it mine.

      All mine.

      When we’re through,

      the crowd yells

      and I take a bow,

      gratitude dripping

      off of me.

      I give my temporary

      bandmates a wave

      and jump down

      into Cade’s arms.

      He spins me around

      saying words like

      “amazing” and

      “incredible.”

      And I think to myself,

      Yes you are,

      yes you are,

      yes you are,

      yes you are,

      yes you are.

      take me there

      Henry tells the

      expanding crowd

      the band is taking a break

      and will be back in ten.

      Cade disappears

      for a minute,


      then comes back

      with a guitar.

      When he takes the stage,

      I can feel him taking

      my soul

      right along

      with him.

      He looks over at me.

      “This one’s for you.”

      “Blue sky,

      sun on skin.

      Open road,

      take it in.

      It’s this feeling I get

      that I can’t seem to find

      except when I let

      all the worries unwind

      when you’re there by my side.

      When you won’t let me hide.

      Let’s go for a ride.

      Hand in hand,

      feelings sincere.

      All we need

      we’ll find right here.”

      His voice, smooth as

      water, washes over me.

      And I am there,

      on that road, the sun

      warm on my skin,

      and a feeling

      of happy anticipation

      fills me.

      And when it’s over,

      tears fill my eyes

      because it’s not

      the road that I’m on.

      And I want it to be.

      God, how I want it to be.

      One month ago

      Dear Amber,

      We are starting to get things ready for your arrival.

      We’re converting the guest room into your bedroom. We’ll provide the basics for now, and once you get here, I’ll take you shopping so you can decorate any way you’d like.

      Allen insisted you have a bookcase so you can fill it with books. When we met you in the attorney’s office, you said you liked to read, and Allen remembered that. If you have some specific titles you’d like him to get for you, please drop him a note. He’d be more than happy to have them waiting for you.

      We’re both getting so excited to have you here! Can’t believe, after all this time, you’ll be joining us soon.

      Is there anything you’d like me to know about food preferences, allergies, etc. before you arrive? Otherwise, we’ll figure it all out when you get here.

      Love,

      Jeanie and Allen

      me and you

      When Cade rejoins me,

      he sees that I’ve gone

      from elation to devastation

      in the strum of a chord,

      and I can tell it hurts him.

      “It’s not you,” I tell him

      as he pulls me into a corner.

      “You were great.

      You are great.

      Too great, really.”

      He wipes away a tear

      so gently

      it’s like an invitation

      for more to fall.

      But I close my eyes

      and force them back

      because he doesn’t need that.

      And then,

      in the moment

      of wishing away tears

      and wanting to live

      in his song,

      his lips touch mine.

      It’s a soft kiss at first,

      tender like he is,

      and then stronger

      as we pull

      each other closer,

      wanting to push

      everything else away

      except

      this.

      the feeling’s mutual

      My emotions

      are on a

      bungee chord.

      Plummeting

      one minute and

      rebounding the next.

      When he pulls away,

      he whispers, “Better?”

      I smile.

      “Much.”

      “Let’s get out of here.”

      He takes my hand

      and holds it

      like he owns it.

      And as we leave,

      I realize for the

      first time

      in a long time

      I’m not secretly scared

      by someone wanting

      to be with me,

      but instead

      so very grateful

      for it.

      so much goodness

      Outside,

      the night has

      gotten colder,

      but I embrace it

      like an old friend.

      It feels good.

      Suddenly

      everything

      feels

      good.

      We walk to the

      grocery store

      on the corner.

      “Did you see that movie?” I ask.

      “Although, the book was better.”

      From his face,

      I can tell

      he has no clue.

      It’s not really obvious.

      So I tell him.

      “Nick and Norah.

      The night in New York City?

      It feels a little like that.

      Except not as cool.”

      “Yeah,” he says

      as we head for the

      school supply section.

      “I’m not cool.

      Not like you, drummer girl.”

      “You are too cool.”

      I pause. “Castle boy.”

      He laughs.

      “Sounds like a bad boy band.

      Introducing the Castle Boys!”

      I grab

      a small container

      of glitter.

      Because this day,

      this wonderful,

      beautiful,

      glorious day,

      just wouldn’t be complete

      without a little,

      or a lot, of

      a dream come true

      Our next stop

      is a part of town

      I’m not familiar with.

      Cade parks on a street,

      near the beach,

      in front of a row

      of small houses,

      and while I admire

      the hazy moon,

      he gathers everything

      we need from the

      trunk of his car.

      Apparently that

      consists of a blanket,

      a flashlight, a bottle of water,

      and a hat, which he hands to me.

      His concern for

      my well-being

      makes my heart

      pound out a rockin’ solo

      inside my chest.

      We walk down to the beach,

      and he lays out the blanket

      near a hole in the sand

      that contains a log

      with glowing embers.

      I’m thinking about

      me and him

      and a fire

      and a blanket.

      And then I’m yelling,

      “Wait!”

      because maybe

      I’m a tiny bit nervous

      about me and him

      and a fire

      and a blanket.

      He jumps back.

      “Sorry.

      I thought maybe we could

      throw the glitter first.”

      “Okay, then.

      Let’s do it.”

      I take the bottle

      of glitter and pour

      some in my hand

      and some in his.

      “Should we do something first?” I ask.

      “Yes. Close our mouths.”

      “No, I mean, make a wish or something?”

      “Okay.

      Out loud or to ourselves?”

      “To ourselves.”

      So, quietly, we wish,

      and when I think it’s been

      sufficient wishing time,

      I say, “Ready. Set.

      No—stop, it’s too dark.

      I have to get the flashlight.”

      I hold the flashlight

      above my head and shine

      it on him like a spotlight.

      “You first, Cade.

      Ready, set, go!”

      His hand flies up

      and sparkles
    rain down on him.

      He spins around,

      pretending to be a ballerina

      dancing in the glitter,

      and it makes me laugh.

      “My turn.”

      He takes the flashlight

      and places me in

      the spotlight this time.

      I toss the glitter

      and hold my hands out,

      trying to catch some

      like a child tries to catch

      snowflakes.

      For a moment

      the air is pretty,

      sparkly,

      and full of wonder.

      But in a breath,

      it’s over.

      He flicks off the light,

      leaving us in darkness.

      “Was it as thrilling as you thought?”

      “It was over too soon,” I whisper.

      He cups my face

      with both hands,

      leans in,

      eyes lingering a

      sweet second

      before his lips

      are there on mine,

      teasing,

      playing,

      tasting,

      kissing.

      When he pulls away,

      I’m breathless.

      He nuzzles my ear.

      “Now that’s thrilling.”

      You got that right.

      kissing

      Lips on lips,

      feel the heat.

      Silky soft,

      honey sweet.

      Stay right here,

      feed me more.

      Lips on lips,

      like never before.

      wrap me up

      I shiver.

      He pulls away.

      “Are you cold?” he asks.

      “A little.

     


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