Chapter 8 Josh
JOSH
NOW
I look down at my phone for probably the fortieth time tonight. My friend Chris notices and scowls.
“You have some important music business stuff to attend to, or do you have time for your old pals?” He smirks, gesturing to my phone I’m glancing at under the table.
“Sorry.” I shake my head. “I texted Melanie our plans, but I haven’t heard back from her.”
“Melanie?” My old buddy Aaron’s eyebrows quirk up.
Aaron and Chris were my two best friends in high school.
They got out of Cape May for college, but they don’t live far outside of town these days.
When I texted that I was back, they jumped at a chance to grab a bite and catch up.
Now they’re throwing back a couple of beers over burgers, and I’m nursing my Coke. They were psyched to have a DD.
“Yeah, I’m crashing with her.” I shove my phone back in my pocket and force my attention on my friends.
“The Melanie?” Chris confirms. “The one you were obsessed with?”
I flinch at his candor. “Obsessed is a strong word.”
“Dude, you loved her,” Aaron reminds me. “Like epic crush.”
I bark out a laugh. “It was more than a crush. We had a thing going on.” I take a sip of my soda and look anywhere but their dropped jaws. I can’t believe they really had no idea.
“Pshh, you wish.” Chris laughs. “I remember how you ditched us at that party to go home with her drunk ass. Following her like a lost puppy.” He’s joking but he has no idea how right he is.
I was crazy about Melanie back then. It took me years to move on from the loss of her.
I know she wants to know why I never stayed in touch.
I wish I had the answer, but honestly, it’s as simple as I was insecure and stupid.
I absolutely should have called and checked on her. I should have made sure she was okay.
I shake my head, plucking a fry from my plate and chewing it while they watch me closely. “No, really,” I say when I swallow. “We were hooking up the whole summer before eleventh grade. No one knew.”
“No shit.” Aaron chuckles, scratching his chin. “Too bad it never worked out.”
“I think Josh made out just fine bagging Kiera Muller.” Chris winks at me. “She’s hot.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “That’s over.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Dude.” Chris scowls, giving me a look that says he thinks I’m insane. “Why?”
“We want different things,” I say, making air quotes when I say different things. I lift a shoulder, dismissing it. “Trust me, I’m better off.”
Aaron holds up his hands. “All right, all right, hear me out.” He pauses and points an index finger in my direction. “You are single now. Melanie is single now. You’re staying in her house…”
“How do you know she’s single?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“That’s kind of her thing,” Chris interrupts. “She’s always single… I’m not really sure why. She’s still hot with a great body.”
I shove him in the shoulder in jest. “I’m sure your wife would love to hear that,” I growl, but I grin, shaking my head. “I don’t think she forgives me for taking off back then.”
“What? Your parents moved. You were sixteen.” Aaron balks. “You had to.”
I cock my head side to side. “Maybe. But I probably should have done more than just left her a note.”
“Dude!” Chris gapes at me. “Seriously?”
My neck tingles in embarrassment for my sixteen-year-old self. “I was messed up. That’s my only excuse.” I shake my head, hoping to clear the painful memory away.
“Yeah, well, now is your chance to make it right,” Aaron says.
“Rachel says fate works in mysterious ways and you should listen to the universe when it’s telling you something.
” Rachel is Aaron’s girlfriend. She is mystical, as Aaron likes to say and believes in the healing power of energy and cleansing auras.
“I’ll see, I guess,” I say, still unsure how to prove myself to Melanie again. I’m also unsure of what I’d even hope to get out of repairing our relationship. Maybe the status quo is better since I’m not sure what I could really offer her or what my future looks like.
We call it a night after midnight, and once I drop the guys at their respective houses and creep quietly back into Melanie’s apartment, she’s already gone to bed.
I figured she would have, but I can’t push aside my disappointment.
I was hoping we could talk. I fill a glass with water and head into the bathroom to brush my teeth, feeling defeated.
When I come out, I notice her guitar leaning against the armchair, and the same notebook with our first song open on the ottoman.
It’s almost like she was playing our song.
She never did text me back. I assumed she was still mad, but maybe she was distracted by the music instead.
Something like hope fills my chest as I settle onto the couch to sleep.
Maybe she wants to play with me after all.
* * *
By the time the sun is streaming through the kitchen the next morning, Melanie is already gone. I must have slept like the dead because I didn’t even hear her leave. I pad into the kitchen and see fresh coffee in the pot with a note in handwriting I’d recognize anywhere:
Josh – Working day shift today. Come see me if you’re bored.
My chest pulls tight. I’ve only been here for a few days, but I already can’t imagine leaving again.
Actually, that’s not true. A home can be anywhere.
It’s Melanie that I can’t imagine leaving again.
I can’t believe how long I’ve gone without her in my life.
We might’ve left things unsettled, we may even need to have it out, but I know one thing’s for sure, I can’t let years go by again without knowing her.
I quickly shower, shave, and get dressed.
I take my guitar and notebook out to the small, shared sunroom between apartments and sit down.
A melody started to take shape in my head last night as I drove through the back roads on my way home.
I mean, back to Melanie’s. I sang it into a voice memo on my phone while I was driving, but now I need to get it down on paper.
I don’t know what the words will be yet, but I can hear the tune.
I’m humming it and strumming the chord progression—Am, C, G, F.
Strum, jot it down, strum some more, jot it down.
I reach a place where I should be writing a bridge, but my phone dings in my pocket.
Melanie: Did you get my note? Sorry I missed you, but you looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you.
I smile at her words. Sorry I missed you. “I guess she’s not mad at me,” I say to no one but myself.
I hammer out a reply.
Me: Company for lunch?
Her reply comes rapid fire.
Melanie: Sure. I’d like that.
I stand to go back into the apartment, put my guitar away, and grab my phone and keys when I realize I’ve locked myself out.
I let out a groan, dragging my hand down my face.
I’m not getting enough sleep or something.
My brain has up and left. I lean my guitar in the corner of the sunroom, with my notebook, and hope none of the neighbors disturb it.
I jog down the rickety steps and walk up two blocks to The Ugly Mug where Melanie works. It’s a gorgeous summer day that would elicit optimism in even the grumpiest of washed-up musicians. I find myself whistling the melody I’m attempting to write as I walk.
It doesn’t take me long and I swing open the door to the dark restaurant to find Melanie right at the host stand, waiting for me. She grins and warmth radiates my insides. How did I go so long without seeing her smile?
“Hey stranger,” she says, tucking a strawberry blonde wave behind her ear.
“Hey, Strawberry Girl.” I smile, leaning against the host stand.
Melanie’s cheeks pinken and I feel desire rush through me. I used to make her blush all the time. Or at least teenager Josh thought so. “Lunch?” she asks, picking up her purse and slinging it over her shoulder.
“You don’t want to eat here?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow.
“I need to see the sunshine,” she says, stepping around me and pushing open the door. She looks back over her shoulder. “You coming?”
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, we’re sitting outside a café called Tisha’s, sipping lemonade and quietly reading our menus.
Melanie closes hers and looks up, clearing her throat. “Did you have fun last night?”
“I did. It was great seeing Chris and Aaron.”
Melanie’s expression is warm, nostalgia brimming in her blue eyes.
“It’s always nice to see old friends.” Our hands are nearly touching on top of the small table, knuckles a mere centimeter from each other.
It would take nothing for me to reach out and lace her fingers through mine.
Instead, I pull my hand away and scratch at the nape of my neck, smiling in return.
“I told them about our secret relationship. I’m not sure they believed me.” I laugh and Melanie does too, but her eyes are guarded.
Before she can say anything, the waitress comes to take our order. We order salads, and just as I’m about to once again plead with her to sing with me, we’re interrupted again.
“Well look what the cat dragged all the way up the coast.” The voice belongs to my sister’s high school boyfriend, Liam Harper. I haven’t seen him in nearly twenty-five years, and I’m surprised he recognizes me. He’s pushing a double jogging stroller and stops at our table.
“It’s more like across the country these days.” I laugh, standing up and holding out my hand. He shakes it but then surprises me by pulling me into a hug. “What’s going on, brother?” I ask, pulling back.
“Not much. You back in town?” Liam arches a brow.
“Just passing through,” I murmur, glancing sideways at Melanie. “Are these two cuties yours?” I ask, crouching down to say hello to the little girls.
Liam looks down fondly at them. “These are my daughters, Lucy and Leah.”
“Hi there.” I wave at them. “I’m Josh.”