7. Chapter 7
Chapter 7
Vi
By the end of the working week, the flowers on my desk had been disposed of, and I joined Jake for a short morning trip. With the party for my parents happening so soon, we needed to choose a venue as soon as possible.
Jake drove us to the first option on my list. Just like me, he declined a driver more often than not, preferring to do the driving himself. Ten minutes into the journey, we got caught in the first bit of traffic. Where I would have gotten annoyed by it and upped the volume of my audiobook to drown it out, Jake remained as calm as ever.
I sighed. "Sometimes I wonder if there's anything that gets your blood boiling."
"What do you mean?"
"Even my dad huffs when in standstill traffic. You? I haven't been in the car with you much, but it seems you're more likely to hum a song than get irritated."
He shrugged, his eyes still on the car ahead. "This light is always like this, but there are no real alternatives. Even the GPS says it's the best way. So why would I let it get to me?"
"Road rage is a thing, Jake. But I guess not for you?"
"Have you ever seen me rage? About anything?"
I searched my memory files for any memory of Jake angry. It took a while; I'd known him since I was six years old, and Gabe had brought him over for dinner after school one day.
A thousand scenes glittered in my mind. Me asking my mom why Gabe's new friend was so shy, and she telling me his home could be a scary place. Being a teenager, Jake smiling at me in school, and me instantly feeling something new and different for him. Jake joking around with Gabe and I in the first iteration of the lake house, when it was still a small A-frame cabin; and me catching him playing the guitar one day.
The door I'd tried to close for the past several years opened a crack. If I wasn't careful, every feeling and thought and emotional souvenir I'd packed behind it would come crashing down.
I shook my head. "I guess I haven't, no."
"That's right. Traffic won't be the thing that wrecks my streak."
As if the universe had wanted to reward him, the cars ahead advanced and we got to move forward somewhat. Two or so more green lights, and we'd overcome the hump.
I smirked. "Streak? Are you counting days?"
"Years."
I glanced at him. His frown showed on his profile; a thick wrinkle at the top of his straight nose. When I didn't immediately reply, he gave me his eyes.
To see a man like him break— big and self controlled, but weak for you in all the right ways.
Get that out of your head, Violeta Sotomayor.
I pursed my lips. "I think there's room for anger in healthy relationships."
"Yeah, but I'm not sure I trust myself with it. I could be an angry man, but I refuse."
We gazed at each other for several charged seconds. The implicit message in his words echoed clear between us. I knew Jake looked a lot like his dad, and that the man had been a frightening guy.
"But you must have felt it, right?" I asked.
"I am human, Vi. Of course I've felt it. I feel a lot of things."
I cocked my head. "When was the last time you showed some of it?"
If he said it was when he kissed me two and a half years ago, I'd have to beg for self control like his, not to push him to snap again.
The corner of his lips curled in an amused smirk. "Last year. When your brother was being stubborn and was going to break up with Lina. I got angry then."
"What?!" An incredulous chuckle escaped me. "He was going to break up with my favorite sister in law?"
"Can you believe it? That made my blood boil, to use your words. That he had a chance to be with the person he wanted and might choose not to—"
He interrupted himself, the thought clicking behind his eyes. The realization might have interrupted his memory the same way his statement rattled in my mind. One evening many months before, for a brief instant, we had a similar choice to make. While Gabe and Lina's story didn't include rules and family dynamics getting in the way, and they'd been together for a long while now, in those few words, our fates appeared to mirror each other.
I didn't know if Jake still wanted me, and I couldn't take us there. Not for the next couple of months, at least. Maybe never.
But my heart complained, seeing the way he looked at me in that instant. Heat danced in his eyes, brief and veiled, but there. My gut echoed it, a deep, heavy pull down into my core.
To see a man like him fall to his knees…
A loud horn sliced the space between us and I startled.
"Shit." Jake clenched his jaw and drove the car forward.
We hadn't noticed the room that had opened up ahead, but the driver behind us had. The light didn't last long enough to make it across the intersection, and we stopped with two cars still ahead of us.
"Right, well," I said. "Gabe and Lina were meant for each other and are happy now. Maybe you getting angry helped."
Jake kept his eyes forward. He snorted. "Something tells me that wasn't the thing to keep them together, but you would have to ask him."
"Maybe I will."
Perhaps it would give me a clue, about how to make it work with the person you wanted. I would even take some hope from it, if he had any guidance for me.
Silence enveloped us for a while, until the light turned green and we could finally move at an easier pace.
"I've been meaning to ask you…" Another frown wrinkled the top of his nose, but a soft blush accompanied it this time. "What's this karaoke place you mentioned the other day?"
Excitement flickered inside and moved through my veins. "Oh? Are you really thinking of doing it? Going to karaoke?"
His blush deepened. "Maybe. Yes. I'm supposed to. My therapist thinks it'll be good for me."
"I see." I bit the inside of my cheek. "I'll send you a link. I really think it could be good. Gabe and Lina could go too—"
"Would you want to go?"
I gazed at him. Curiosity rather than nerves hung from his question, and a vehement yes! almost slipped from my tongue. Music was one of the things Jake had kept away from prying eyes through the years, and I had nothing but a few memories to remind me how good he was. With a voice like his, so deep and melodic when he talked; with the ease with which he'd played the guitar on the few times I saw him— he also played the bass and the piano, or he did once upon a time— I had never heard him sing, but I could imagine, and the picture in my head was glorious and in Dolby Surround.
"I mean—" I closed my eyes to better choose one of the five thoughts wanting to stumble from me. "I guess— if you're okay with that. I would love that."
We drove for a while, Jake in silence and focused on the road; I kept the quiet between us, and held it in my hand like a moth about to go in search of the light. I didn't want to disrupt him and rob myself from the chance to see him sing.
"I've never stopped playing," he finally said. "Even when my dad— when he forced me to stop. Even when a misstep meant being punished. I just found a way to do it in my head."
I knew what he meant. I had heard a story or two, through the decades Jake had been with us.
"Jake…" I raised a hand, an automatic impulse to soothe.
My heart crumpled, the walls creasing with each beat, but my hand held suspended in the space between us. I dropped it to the console dividing us. I didn't think it was my place to offer anything, no matter how much I wanted to give it.
My nails had nothing to hold on to, as I fisted my hand on the smooth panel between the seats. Giving was in my disposition. But, even if Jake deserved so much more than a simple hand on his arm, the fences between us were frail. We already were pushing more than was recommended, of late.
His eyes remained on the road. "Your parents bought me instruments and encouraged me to practice in your home but, you know, I've never been public with it. Even after my father died and I went no contact with my mom— I don't play in front of people."
"I know." I dug my nails into the palm of my hand, and kept my voice soft. "That's why I'm surprised."
We approached the older, fancier part of the city; we would reach the venue soon. I wanted to rush him and get him to tell me more. I wanted to ask him to drive more slowly, so he'd have time to finish his thought.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. "Vanessa— my therapist— she thinks my music could be a way to show my authenticity again. That even though hiding it was the right thing for a long time, I don't need to hide it anymore. That if I find ways to share that side of me, it could help me show more to the right people."
He cut a glance my way, before turning the blinker on. We were a couple of blocks away from our destination. I pulled my hand back to my lap and pressed my lips together, but my eyes didn't waver from him.
"She challenged me," he said. "For all the healing and growth I've done through the years, I can't say being challenged doesn't get to me anymore."
"So you're going to play music for people?"
"I'll start with other people's music— that's why karaoke is a good idea." He scoffed, but there was humor in it. "I don't know if the fact Gabe, Lina, and you might be there makes it better or worse."
We entered the yard to an old city estate, the kind the wealthy folk of old built to compete with those in Europe. A manicured yard welcomed us, with a dark paved driveway circling around a large, multi-layer center fountain.
I smiled. "If it helps, I'll sing something really poorly before you take the stage."
He laughed, and I let the topic die as we entered the elegant property.
"Wow." My eyes traced the fountain, with its angels and cherubs playing in the water. "Interesting."
"Not much room to park. I read in the link you sent me that they have a valet service? That they take guests' cars to a nearby parkade they own?"
"Yeah, but I think you can leave the car by the main door for now."
Once the car stopped, we exited the car at the same time.
Jake rushed to my side. "Hey, wait a second. Why didn't you let me open the door for you?"
"What?" I closed the car door behind me. "Were you planning to?"
He stood in front of me, tall enough that I had to lift my gaze high to look him in the eye.
He frowned. "Yes. I drove you here— it's good manners."
"Good manners… for a date."
"I can do it for you even if it's not a date."
"I don't need you to handle me with care."
"I want to be better about showing you…" he let out a frustrated gust of air, like he couldn't find the exact word he was looking for. "Regard."
I wrinkled my nose. Not what I had expected.
"Consideration?" I offered. "Heed? Friendship, perhaps?"
He rolled his eyes and guided me up the stairs with a hand behind my back, and a small smile tilting his mouth.
"We can settle on friendship, I think. Unless you get too smart about teasing me."
"Oh, don't disappoint me like that. Since when is being smart a bad thing? Don't tell me you can't take it? I thought you liked a challenge."
"Your smart mouth could get us in trouble, that's all."
We reached the top level, the open balcony overlooking the gardens and flanked by gorgeous, carefully designed flower arrangements.
I laughed. "There's no trouble my mouth could get me in, that I couldn't successfully litigate in my favor."
He echoed me with a deep chortle. "Don't try too hard, or that mouth is going to get you in the kind of trouble you can't lawyer away."
"I can't foresee any such circumstance—" I tried, a wide grin on my face.
"Aw, a bantering pair!" A stylish femme approached us from the building, and greeted us with soft, cool handshakes. "In my many years in the business, I always get a good feeling when a couple is comfortable enough to tease and quip with each other. I've developed an intuition, if you will, and I can already see how well you fit together."
"Excuse me?" The surprise chilled my smile by a few degrees.
"So glad to welcome you to Remington Estate. My name is Claire and I'll be glad to help you create a magical event, if you choose to book with us. Do you have a wedding date yet? We will do our best to work with you to help you have the reception of your dreams."
"It's not— we're not together." Jake took his hand away from my back. "We're not here for our wedding. Or a wedding."
"Oh, no!" I let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm so sorry. I must have clicked the wrong option. I chose the closest thing to a wedding anniversary I could find— Bridal and Related Events?"
"The party is for her parents," Jake added.
"I see!" She laughed like the mishap was of no consequence. "It's all good. Come with me, and I'll show you how we can make the event special for them."
Claire led us inside, and I did my best to ignore the brief flutter of excitement I'd felt, when she thought Jake and I were there to plan our forever.