Strings

Chapter 21 - The Show #4

“Ohhh. I see. Okay. How long will you be here?”

“I hope not long. He’s supposed to be looking for a new place.”

“I thought you said . . . he didn’t know I was here. How’s he already looking for a new place?”

Robby looked off. Exhaled. “He knew last week. I saw you and called him.” He turned back to her.

“Last week? You saw me?” Robby nodded. “When? Where? I don’t go anywhere. I even have my groceries delivered.” She raised her right hand. Her fingers tried to weave through her hair.

“Wednesday. On the rocks in front of your house.”

Grace’s mouth dropped, her eyes got bigger, and she barely made it back to the chair. Robby moved a little closer. Grace whispered, “How? Where were you? On a boat?”

“No. With binoculars. From our rental. Two houses past yours. Ray was looking at you. I took the binoculars to see who he was staring at.”

Grace sagged back. “I don’t know what to say. This is too much.” Then, she sat up. “I need to go. I need to go . . .,” she pressed her lips together, “. . . home.” She stood up and walked past Robby, unsteadily.

“You’re not in shape to go anywhere by yourself. Is there someone you can call?”

She stopped, didn’t turn, but put her hand out and grabbed the corner of a giant, black, house speaker. “I don’t socialize. I don’t have anyone like you mean.” She let go and walked toward the glowing red EXIT sign.

“Grace. Wait.” He crossed the distance between them in two strides, but Grace reached the door first and pushed the bar.

The door didn’t budge. She turned and leaned her shoulder into it just as Robby reached out and pushed the bar harder.

The door flew open. Grace lost her balance.

She was falling sideways through the open door when Robby caught her just below her right shoulder and pulled her back in.

They faced each other. He didn’t let go. “Can you stand on your own?”

“Yes.” He dropped his hand. She stepped down through the opening onto the landing above the sidewalk, wobbled, and grabbed the metal railing, her back to Robby. She reached into the back pocket of her skirt and pulled out her phone.

“I thought you didn’t have anyone to call.”

“I’m calling an Uber . . . I’ll skip the pizza.”

“Stop. It doesn’t make sense. We’re going to practically the same address. I’ll walk you to the pizza place, then I’ll call a limo.” He stepped onto the landing. The EXIT door closed. He looked down at her. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

“Oh I’ve changed.”

“You’re still as temperamental and headstrong as the day I met you. I won’t touch you, unless you’re going to fall. Hold the railing.”

She made it down to the sidewalk, three steps.

The local sidewalks were historic and infamous, made of slabs of bluestone, laid end to end, that had arrived in the old port city as ballast in the hulls of trading ships.

Over time, the stones had gotten uneven, with gaps, cracks, and missing pieces.

They’d endured an unknown number of hurricanes and a major earthquake.

And it had been raining the last couple hours, so there were puddles.

Robby said, “Which way?” Grace pointed left.

They had hardly gone a few feet, when the front of her sandal caught on the edge of the next piece of stone.

She would’ve fallen but Robby caught her, again.

“I feel like I’m back in college with a drunk date.” Grace shot him a withering look. “But that’s enough. Take my arm or I’m leaving you right here, and you can figure out how to get home on your own. If I’d never helped you out that first day, we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

She took his arm. They didn’t speak. They walked to the corner, the intersection of the side street and the main downtown shopping street.

It was late Sunday night and eerily quiet for a street that was the shopping destination for tourists.

Only a few other people were out, dodging puddles that reflected the glow of the gas streetlamps.

They stood on the corner under a lamp, Grace peering up the street, looking for the pizza sign.

The night was warm and typically humid. A fine mist showed in the aura of the lamplight.

Robby looked down at Grace. Her hair was glowing in the light from the streetlamp.

He could see fine droplets of water clinging to each strand.

It had practically doubled in size. Damn her hair.

“I see it. It’s still there. Let’s go.”

They walked. Now they were both exhausted, and Robby was hoarse. Grace watched her feet. Robby said, “How is it being back here?”

Grace took a few moments. “I love my house, but the island is changing. It’s disheartening.”

“I didn’t realize it’s an island. You never said that. I know there’s a bridge, but I didn’t realize it’s a real island.”

“Barrier island. The coast here is made up of barrier islands. Do you know the Outer Banks?” He nodded.

“Like that. The beaches are on the ocean sides of the islands. The one we’re on is relatively small.

Anyway, by the time I leave, the beach will be crowded, the traffic on the weekends ungodly, and the tourists loud.

I won’t miss it.” She slowed down, pulling back on Robby’s arm.

“There’s the pizza place.” She pointed across the street.

Robby nodded, and they crossed the street, avoiding puddles. “I’ve played Boston a lot. This reminds me of it.”

“Yes. Same era. Same port city feel.”

Robby held the door. Grace made it through.

There were booths down the left side, a counter with stools on the right.

Through the pass-through, they could see a young man in a hairnet, spreading tomato sauce on pizza dough.

Grace held the tops of booths until she slipped into one midway down.

Robby sat across from her. There was one other couple, college students, holding hands across the table, clearly in love.

The server, also college age, said, from behind the counter, “Water?” They nodded.

She brought water and menus. “Back in a few.”

Robby looked over the top of his menu. “You should eat something here. It might help. You don’t look like you eat enough.”

“Oh . . . like you do?”

“I’m not falling down, unable to get around on my own. I can still perform.”

“I’m not usually like this. I just forgot to eat and suddenly it was time to go . . . Everything happened so fast.” She looked at him. He looked back, impassively. She looked back down at the menu.

Robby sat back, his menu in one hand. “No . . . I get it. This whole night has been surreal . . . the whole week . . . all I can do is go with it. That’s all I can do with anything anymore.

Kind of like the shape I was in when we met.

” He thought a moment. “Only worse. At least then I was looking forward to some time off. Now . . . it’s a deepening nightmare. ”

Grace looked up. “I’m not totally convinced this isn’t a dream. It has that feel.”

“I hope we can leave in a few days. The plan was to stay until we had all the songs done, but it wasn’t going well from the start.

I can’t write. Especially lyrics. Certainly not here.

Not now . . . not after Wednesday . . . now this .

. .” He shook his head. “There’s no point in staying.

I don’t know about a new album. Jakob wants me back for the end of the tour.

That’s weeks away. ‘Gives me time to think. I need to think.”

The waitress appeared. “What’ll it be?” She looked from Robby to Grace, then back at Robby.

Grace said. “Do you have any pizza by the slice?”

The waitress turned her head away from Robby. “Cheese.”

“I’ll take a slice for here and a medium pizza to go. Everything on it. And a salad. Blue cheese on the side.” She put her menu down and looked across at Robby.

The waitress asked in a small voice, “Anchovies?”

Grace looked up. “Yep.”

Robby said, “I’ll take a piece of cheese too, and anything you’ve got on tap.”

“Sure.” She picked up the menus and was gone.

Robby looked at Grace. “Everything? Anchovies? I guess we never had pizza. I’d remember that.”

“I like anchovies.” She continued looking at him. “Robby?” Then she looked down, suddenly unsure. She took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Looked up. He was looking at her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know I was that unready. I panicked.”

“It just wasn’t the right time for us.” He looked around, like a caged animal.

“This is not a good idea — our being together . . . talking. It’s going to make it harder in the long run.

At least on me. I know Jakob meant well, but I’ll call a driver to take you home.

I can walk back to the theater, get my guitars, and call another driver or an Uber.

” He sat forward, getting his phone out of his back pocket.

“Don’t do that. Please.”

“I’ve got to. I can’t do this. Seeing you . . . is not good for me. I’ve got to leave.”

The waitress put Robby’s beer down. She looked at him. “Does anybody ever tell you, you look like Robby Song?”

“All the time. Strangest thing. Can you bring the check?” She nodded, took her order pad out of her apron, flipped to their check, totaled it, ripped it off, and left it on the table. Robby reached for it.

Grace said, “It’s my pizza. I’m paying.”

“Okay. I already told you, I’m not arguing with you.” He looked at her and slid the check across the table.

She noticed his fingers. So long and graceful.

So familiar. She picked up the check, reached in her back pocket, and pulled out her debit card.

Then she quickly reached across the table and snatched Robby’s phone out of his hand, stood, held on to barstools all the way to the cash register, paid, came back, and slid into the booth.

“If I’m never going to see you again, I’m going to say everything I want, now, before you can leave.

” She rushed on, “I’ve missed you every day.

” Robby looked at her. “I don’t want you to go now. I don’t want to never see you again.”

Robby inhaled deeply; his eyebrows went up. He pressed his lips together and tilted his head up to the ceiling. He exhaled and looked back at her. “What’re you saying?”

“Come to my house. Tonight.”

Robby looked away. When he looked back, he said, “This isn’t fair. I want to be with you more than anything. I should be over you, but I’m not. I should hate you, but I don’t. But I don’t trust you . . . at all. I still hurt, but I don’t want to hurt worse, like at first. I can’t go back there.”

“Please. I don’t want to be without you.” She reached across the table and put her hand on his. He pulled his away but continued to look at her. “Please. I won’t leave this time. I’ve changed. Please take the leap. Please risk it.”

He looked at her.

Leaning toward Robby, Grace sighed. “I don’t know what else I can say. I’ve been lonely, but not just lonely . . . lonely for you. It was me who was unsure. Now, I’m sure. I want you in my life. You. I’m sure.” She slid his phone back across the table.

The waitress came with two pieces of cheese pizza.

Grace picked hers up and took a big bite.

She looked at Robby as she ate. He pulled the other plate toward him and started eating.

He looked at her as he ate. When he finished, he glanced over at the pass-through just as a pizza box and a smaller box appeared.

Then he sat up and looked at Grace. “Let’s go.

” They went over to the counter. The waitress put the boxes in front of them.

Robby pulled a napkin out of the nearest dispenser and looked at the waitress.

“I need to write. Your pen?” She took the pen out of her apron pocket and handed it to him.

He wrote on the napkin, put the pen on it, and covered it with a $50 bill.

He picked up the boxes and looked at Grace. “Take my arm.”

“I ate. I’m fine.”

“No way. I can’t catch you now with my hands full. Either you take my arm or I’m leaving without you, and you can get yourself and your pizza home your own way.”

Once they were outside, they crossed the street and walked in silence.

They turned down the side street and into the parking lot behind the theater.

Robby walked to the nearest parked car and put the boxes on it, took out his phone, and cleared his throat.

“I need a driver at the back of the Azalea Theatre. I’ll have four big guitar cases.

. . Hold on.” He looked at Grace. “She needs your address.” Grace gave the dispatcher her address and handed the phone back to Robby.

“Good. Thanks.” Three black tour buses were clustered in the parking lot.

Robby picked up the boxes, they walked over to one, the boxes went on the nearest car, and Robby knocked on the bus door.

After a minute, it opened. Robby looked at a big man with a bristly red beard.

“Hey, Rudy. I need my guitars. All four.” Grace was standing at the foot of the bus steps next to Robby.

She could smell weed, hear voices, laughing, and guitars. They stepped back as Rudy came down.

A black SUV pulled up, and Condon got out.

He smiled when he saw Grace. “Hi Grace Wheeler. I’m here to take you home.

” He opened the car door, and she got in.

Robby picked up the boxes and handed them to her as the back of the SUV opened.

He walked around to Rudy who was loading the guitars.

They shook hands. “See you down the road.” He gave Rudy some cash.

“You ready?” Condon asked.

Robby nodded, walked to the other side, got in beside Grace, and took the boxes.