Chapter Eighteen
Rafe
Another tree branch hits me in the face. “Ow!”
“Would you quiet down back there, D’Artagnan? You’re going to cause a scene.”
Lily and I have already been around town, trailing a romantic date that makes me feel like my insides are being ripped out as I watch. I was sitting at Graham’s tonight, trying to work up the energy to order a pizza, when Lily texted me, saying that Sparrow needed my help. Turned out, it was all a ruse for us to follow Sparrow and Jacques around on their date.
We’ve been to a fancy Italian place (and driven all around Portsmouth before we found said Italian place). We went through a drive-through (Lily insisted she had a craving and needed fuel for the mission). And now it’s dark, and we’re parked back at Lily’s apartment, walking behind some of the shops in town and through some (very sharp) tree branches extending from almost barren trees. Clusters of birch trees, the namesake of this town, stand out against the night sky, moonlight reflecting off their trunks from the river rushing to our left, its steady presence a comfort.
“Lily, why are we doing this? Do you just have a sick sense of humor or something, because this really isn’t fun for me.”
She turns to face me, a milkshake cup dangling from her hand. I didn’t see her take it from the car. How did it even get here? And when?
“D’Artagnan, repeat after me: I will win my woman’s heart.”
“Lily,” I begin.
“She has feelings for you. I know she does.”
I lean in carefully, trying not to disrupt Lily’s train of thought. Her openness toward me right now is like a rare creature you stumble across and don’t want to run away. But the words she just spoke shake me. “What do you mean?” My pulse is pounding so hard I feel it in my throat.
“She’s finally coming to terms with her fear.”
I nod my head in, hopefully, what appears to be a thoughtful manner when, really, I’m spinning. “And—what would that happen to be?”
Lily laughs. She actually laughs. I’m a man in pain, and she’s laughing. “She’s afraid of you, D’Artagnan.” This time, when she swings her arm around, chocolate milkshake flies through the air and lands on my coat.
I open my mouth in mock horror. “I’ve been wounded.”
That earns me a grin. She pulls napkins from her coat and finishes her milkshake before throwing it away in a nearby dumpster.
“I don’t want her to be afraid of me.”
She waves her hand about, the chocolate staining one side of her hand. “And I’m guessing you’ve tagged along with me— the best friend—on this date to try to see if anything can be done about the fact that you’re actually in love with her?”
“I never said ...” I freeze at her expression. She dares me to deny it and ... I won’t.
“Yes.”
“Lily, I trust you.” Her eyes narrow as if she’s assessing whether I mean it. I do.
She suddenly exhales, and a warm smile breaks over her face. It catches me so off guard that I look over my shoulder to make sure I’m still the only one receiving her attention. Lily laughs while shaking her head.
“There’s something you should know,” I mumble.
“Spill,” she orders.
My heart starts to beat wildly, and I grimace. My pulse has moved upward to thunder in my ears, and the weight of the truth stuns me momentarily. I’m about to level with the best friend of the woman I love.
“First off, are you leaving?” Lily demands.
I shift as the hoot of an owl calls in the distance. “Might have to go to Nashville for a bit. I sent a demo in last week, and it’s getting some traction. And I will have to get things settled from LA, but I would never take her from here.”
She nods, satisfied. We take a sharp right through an alleyway to cut through toward the front of the shops, the light from one of the streetlamps revealing more of Lily’s expressions.
“And about the other thing? You confirmed, but I need to hear you actually say it,” she urges.
“Uh ...” The scratch in my throat causes me to wince. I clear it loudly. “You’re right ... I’m in love with Sparrow,” I breathe out.
“I KNEW IT!”
“Shh, shh,” I grit out as I channel my inner librarian, like I’m the only one preventing a room full of teenagers from making out in the reference section, even though we’re outside. My jaw clenches, which is the complete opposite of the expression on Lily’s eager face. “But ...”
For as fast as Lily’s excitement appeared, it evaporates just as quickly. Her eyes narrow. “But. What.” It’s not a question. It’s a demand.
“There’s something about me she doesn’t know. And I don’t know how to get around this. I really don’t.” I look into Lily’s eyes, and for the first time, I see that she’s really rooting for me. It’s time to go all-in. “Lily, the truth is, while my family did a number on me, and my ex did the same, I was scared. I hid. I didn’t tell Sparrow who I really am.”
She studies my face, and I hold my breath.
“She knows I’m a musician. And she knows I’ve lived in Paris, which is true. But she doesn’t know the one thing I can’t change about myself.”
“Should I be really concerned right now?” she starts. “Because if you so much as cause her one tear that’s not from happiness, I will come after you. Don’t you think I won’t. She’s my girl. She’s my bestie. And you don’t spend over TWENTY years of your life with someone to have her go down because a beautiful man comes into town, with the voice of a freakin’ angel and lyrics that would soften hearts of stone, all to have her—”
“Lily,” I plead. I look about the sidewalk and motion for her to lean in. She cautiously does as I ask, and I move to whisper in her ear. I tell her the secret I’ve been holding since I arrived in this town and watch as Lily stills.
She looks at me with her jaw open before letting out a cross between a yell and a shriek. “WHAT?!”
Lily grasps my jacket and pulls me toward the sidewalk and out into the open. A couple in the distance turns to look at us, and I feel my face redden. A few lights turn on above some of the quiet shops. I won’t be surprised if we are brought in for questioning. Lily doesn’t care in the least, her eyes bright. She locates a snack-sized candy bar freakishly quick and starts smacking me with it.
“Ow! Lily!”
“Why.” Smack. “Didn’t.” Smack. “You.” Smack. Smack. “Say.” Smack. “Something?” Smack.
“Ow!” I step away from the madwoman with the violent chocolate. She motions for me to come closer again. SMACK. I’m an idiot for falling for it. “Lily, please stop hitting me.”
Despite the fact that the chocolate has melted considerably from her body heat, Lily takes a bite, the evidence sticking to her fingers. It seems to do the trick in dissolving the tension in her system. “That was for my best friend. At ease.”
I rub my arm where she zapped me. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell her right away.”
She scrunches her nose.
“Or you . . . before now.”
Lily gives me a nod of approval. “People have ... you know, only gotten close to you because of this?”
I nod.
“Well, this really puts a wrench in things, doesn’t it?” She pulls out another candy bar and leans against the brick wall, her eyes tracking a car that slowly moves past the nearly empty two-lane road that runs through the middle of town. “But ... I kind of get it,” she concedes. It’s my turn to be surprised. “Kind of,” she concludes.
“I can work with kind of,” I admit.
Lily looks me over and nods as if I passed some unknown test. She looks out at another passing car and speaks into the night. “Sparrow keeps people out, especially men. She’s had lots of disappointments with dating in the past. Her way of coping has been to build walls and create unrealistic scenarios ... to ward off her suitors. Kind of puts you in a sticky situation right now ...”
We look at each other, and I see the moment that tears fill her eyes. Hope fills my own. I didn’t realize how gentle Lily’s heart could be until now.
“I don’t want to give her a reason to keep me out. Not anymore,” I say.
Lily wipes the moisture from her eyes and nods. “I’m sorry I got the mean reds for a second,” she mutters.
“ Breakfast at Tiffany’s .” I grin.
She pauses and arches her brow. I see the laugh trying to escape from her mouth. She’s at war with whether to be really annoyed at me or really impressed. And I’m just waiting to find out which one it will be. She reaches into her jacket pocket and pulls out another candy bar, throwing it toward my chest. I catch it in one hand, aware that she’s debating, and decide to throw down my last wish.
“Help me get her for real, Lily? Please? I want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”
Lily’s eyes glisten again, and she gives me a full smile. “Oh, the drama.” She sighs. “I’m too young for this.” She uses a napkin to attempt to clean the long-gone chocolate milkshake that somehow also got on her phone. It does nothing but smear further, but I appreciate the effort. She winces.
“I really don’t get why chocolate hates you so much ...” I begin.
She sighs, but I see the amusement in her eyes. “Listen. You’re only going to hear this from me once. Once . Got it? I never thought I’d find someone worthy of her, but here we are.”
I feel my eyes widen. That’s more than I ever thought I would hear from her. Emotion starts to stick in my throat. Oh, stars, am I going to cry too? This can’t be happening. Lily won’t let it.
“Get it together, man. I hate to break it to you, but she’s not afraid because you’re some big scary man.” I nod, a bit of relief coming to my spine. “She’s afraid because she loves you—you ridiculous, always French, mostly American-acting, and sometimes funny man.”
“She really loves me?”
A bit of a growl escapes her throat. She’s taking us farther down the street and back to another set of shops, leading the charge into the night.
“Why are we still back here?”
“So she doesn’t see us!” Right. Because this isn’t suspicious at all. Two people near the dumpsters along the town river late at night.
“You’re not the first person to tell me that, by the way.”
“Uh—tell you what?” My voice is raspy and strained. I really do think I am going to cry, but I’ll try to hold it in until I get to the studio or to Graham’s.
Lily wipes something from her face and then freezes. She turns slowly, and it takes everything in me not to laugh. Who am I kidding? I start laughing. The emotional energy from sharing my secret with someone else has gotten to me, and Lily is standing there, chocolate milkshake smeared across her face like it has marked her to be an American football player.
“Chocolate really does hate me,” she says, defeated. And there’s nothing I can do but agree. “So, here’s what you do. You really should pay me for my help, by the way.” She grins and pulls me toward the corner of the street, where we hover between a Thai restaurant and a Southern kitchen with a clear view of the bakery. “You’re going to take Winnings’ advice.”
“Winnings? You know Graham?”
She flinches a bit but waves it away. “Not important.” I see the way her jaw tenses. Got it. Another time. “Here’s the thing. This isn’t La La Land . Rory loves that movie, but it’s so depressing.”
I scoff. “It’s beautiful.”
“This is why you’re perfect for each other, but that’s not my point. My point is that you’re both acting like this is the end. Like you’ve missed your chance. You’ve kept something to yourself. She’s doing the same with her heart. But you don’t need to move to Paris, and she doesn’t need to stay behind.”
“What?”
“ La . La . Land .”
“Yes, right.”
“This isn’t a movie. And if you don’t want La La Land to be a self-fulfilling prophecy, you’re going to do everything you can to get your girl. You’re not going to let her slip through your hands, even though it’s hard.” I’m nodding furiously. “But your pursuit of her needs to be heartfelt. Your grand gesture needs to create a memory. Sparrow is all about the things she can hold on to. The ways that she can tangibly know she’s seen. So, what’ve you got?” She motions for me to spill again. I’ve got nothing left to spill.
“Uh . . . flowers?”
She makes a frustrating buzzer noise.
“Ok . . . well, chocolate and baked goods are out. Although, croissants ...” I grin at the idea of Sparrow holding a croissant as Lily interrupts with the buzzing sound again. “A note?”
She nods her head up and down. “Better, but ...”
I hold up my hand to stop her, and still, she makes the buzzing noise.
“Please stop doing that.”
“I’ll stop when you come up with the idea.”
I wince. “A trip to Paris?” Lily buzzes.
“I already wrote her a song ... several of them.” I run my fingers through my hair as, you guessed it, Lily buzzes.
“Keep going ...” she continues. Lily snaps her fingers as if it will hurry the process.
I think of everything I know about Sparrow. She holds on to things that remind her of people she loves, which must be why she keeps taking guitar picks of mine. She sees everyone, and gives to everyone, and never expects to get anything in return. Halloween is just around the corner, just like our hiding spot, but that’s beside the point. Because while she’s with my unspoken rival, Jacques, I’m wondering if I can come up with something special enough to win Sparrow’s heart.
Just then, a fancy car pulls in front of the bakery. Under the reflection of the streetlights, I can't see anything at first. When Jacques steps out, dressed in a sharp suit that looks familiar, I'm immediately miserable. He rounds the car and opens the door for the most stunning woman. Sparrow takes his hand and steps out, her red lipstick accentuated by the dim lighting.
I turn away, but Lily is gripping my arm. She’s with me. They say goodbye, kissing on each cheek, and Sparrow walks around the back of the store toward her apartment. Jacques drives off, but I see Sparrow stare at the door as if she needs a little more courage to step through it alone. My heart hurts for her, but a spark from a flame of hope stirs in my soul. It doesn’t look like it was the best night of her life after all.
“What is she doing?” I whisper.
Lily looks at me, a furrow in her brow. “Being Sparrow.”
Once she walks through the door to her apartment and is out from the cold, I know what I need to do.
“You’ve got it?” Lily asks. I nod. I assume she’s going to give me a hard time, but she must see the determination in my face. “Okay, then. Do what you need to do. I’m rooting for you.”
She holds out her hand for a sort of high-five type of thing, but instead, I awkwardly lean down to pull her into a side hug. “Thank you, Lily,” I say quietly. She’s stiff, but she nods with a grin.
As I turn fully to head back toward Graham’s apartment, crushed leaves under my shoes and dried milkshake on my coat, I hear Lily call to me. “Go get her, D’Artagnan. On behalf of all the heartbroken, change the ending.”