Chapter 9
Aspen- age 27
Present Day
I don’t know what time I finally fell asleep last night. Sleep has alluded me for so long that I’ve just grown to accept being tired. It’s almost like I’m on autopilot most days. I get up, go to work, come home, and pretend to sleep. I’ve been doing this for almost five years. I don’t really have anyone who I would consider a close friend. I have people who I call friends, but they don’t really know me. They know what I show them, which isn’t much. I work an insane number of hours because it keeps my demons at bay. Demons I’ve fought since the day I found him. Just thinking about it makes my chest hurt.
After Dad died, my world kinda crumbled. I locked myself away from everyone around me and shut out life. Bryson moved to New York. We kept in touch for a few months through phone calls, then it turned to text, and then it just stopped. I can’t blame him. I wouldn’t want to be around me either. The New York Symphony offered me the job, but I turned them down. I just couldn’t leave and move on with my life. I inherited everything from my parents’ estate. I sold it all except for a few things I wanted and the piano. I haven’t played since Senior Day, except for last night, which was a mistake. It hurts too much to remember. I’ve been slowly trying to erase that part of me every day.
I’ve been lying in bed staring at the ceiling for the last hour trying to convince myself to get up. My apartment is a mess. I haven’t cleaned up all week, and I’ve just kinda thrown stuff down when I get home each night. After yawning for the third time, I forced myself out of bed. I needed coffee. I shuffled into the kitchen and turned the pot on to brew as I dropped two pieces of bread in the toaster. I could see my reflection in the door to the microwave. I looked tired. My mouth was turned down, and my hair was a tangled mess.
As soon as the coffee finished, I poured a cup. The smell alone was relaxing. After buttering my toast, I went to sit on the couch. I clicked on the TV to some random talk show and zoned out while I ate. I was supposed to be off today, but I didn’t feel like being home. Alone time was not good for me, and my thoughts would soon take over and send me down a path I tried to avoid.
After finishing up, I tossed my dishes into the sink and made my way to the bathroom. I needed a shower. I smelled of grease and booze from work. The warm spray felt heavenly on my achy body, and I wished I could just stand there forever.
After showering, I dressed myself in a tee and yoga pants and grabbed my laundry basket. I needed to wash a load, or I was going to run out of clean things for work. We didn’t have a uniform, just all black.
I slipped on a pair of flip flops, tossed my laundry soap onto of the basket, and made my way outside. I didn’t have a washer and dryer in my apartment, but there was a laundromat right next door.
When got inside, I claimed two machines on the back wall. There were chairs nearby, and I could tuck myself away from people. I tossed my clothes in, poured the soap, and then counted my quarters. When the machines started humming, I folded myself onto one of the chairs, and slipped my basket underneath.
It was quiet for a little while, but then a woman with a little girl came in. She had a popsicle in her hand and a giant red stain on her shirt. “Can I Mommy, please?” She tugged at her mom’s shirt as they made their way over to a line of washers.
“How are you going to do that? Your hands are full?” The woman smiled at the little girl. She had to be maybe four.
“I can. You can hold it.” She thrusted the popsicle in her mom’s direction.
“I guess.” The mom looked frustrated as she took the drippy treat from the little girl’s hand. She waited patiently as the child stuffed the contents of their basket into several machines. After she was finished, she accepted the popsicle back long enough for the mom to lift her to insert the quarters.
“Thanks.” She grinned as she took another sloppy lick.
“How about you sit down so we don’t have to put you in a washing machine?” The mom smiled as the little girl looked down at her stained shirt. She climbed onto a chair but didn’t stay put for long. She saw me and skipped over.
“Whatcha doin’?” She blinked innocently at me.
“Laundry.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Why?” She rocked on her heels.
“Because I need clean clothes.” I set my phone down and gave her my undivided attention.
“Why?” Her tiny brow crinkled as she observed me.
“Because I wore all of them and got them dirty.”
“Why?” She licked the popsicle again.
“From…” I started to answer but the mom came over and quickly pulled her away.
“I’m sorry. She’ll keep up with the whys until she drives you crazy. It’s her new game.” The mom frowned. “You need to leave her alone,” she whispered in a hushed voice to the little girl.
The little girl grinned up at her, “Why?”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. I was that kid at one time. I knew how to push my mother’s buttons, and I enjoyed doing it. I never thought about how it would look to someone else.
“It’s ok,” I called out. “She’s not bothering me.”
“See?” I heard the little girl’s voice from somewhere on the other side of the laundromat. Her mom distracted her after that, and I finished up my loads.
I’m not sure when I became such a workaholic, but I found myself walking the three blocks to the bar on my day off, apron in hand. I pushed through the door and waved to Lisa. She was chatting away behind the bar with a customer and waving her hands animatedly.
“Aren’t you supposed to be off tonight?” She glanced over at me as I tied my apron around my waist.
“Got no plans. Figured I’d try to earn some extra moolah this week.” I shrugged as I looked over at the schedule to see which tables I could take for the night. “Besides, you know Gerry is always looking for more people. He’ll be happy I’m here.” I stuffed a small order pad in my pocket and went over to greet a couple who had just sat down.
Friday nights always started out slow, especially in the summer. It never really got busy until around eight. The band was going to be going on at nine, so customers would stay longer. It was good for the bar, tables not so much. Not everyone kept ordering and sometimes they’d just sit at your tables so you couldn’t turn them.
I immersed myself in work, and didn’t even notice him when he walked in. I was wiping the tabletops and trying to ignore the sounds of the band warming up and doing their sound check. “Test, test.” His voice came over the mic, and I froze. My eyes lifted and I stared at him. He hadn’t really changed. Still tall, but not as lanky. He’d filled out as he matured. His brown hair was shorter now, and he’d changed his style. Worn jeans with one knee ripped and an open green flannel over a white tank covered his body. When his eyes met mine, they widened. His smiled that crooked smile I remembered, and his dimple winked at me. I watched as he set the guitar down and hopped off the stage.
“Look at you!” He hooted as he rushed over wrapped me in a hug and spun in a circle. “I feel like it’s been forever.”
“What are you doing here, Bryson?”
“This is one of my best friend’s bands. He asked to come and play tonight.” He grinned. “What are you doing here?”
“Working.” I motioned to my apron. I wasn’t sure how much to tell him. We hadn’t spoken in years, and really didn’t know that much about each other’s lives.
“Oh.” His head snapped back in surprise. “When do you get off for the night? I’d love to catch up.”
“Technically, I’m not even supposed to be here. Today is my night off.” I glanced around. I needed to look at anything, but him.
“We finish our set at eleven. You wanna grab a coffee after and catch up?”
“Sure,” I gave in. If I didn’t agree, I knew he would bug me until I did. That was his thing. “I can hang out until the set is done.”
“You should play some with us. I’m sure the keyboardist would let you do a few songs. I can vouch for ya.” His face lit up as if it was the best idea ever.
“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t play anymore.” I lowered my voice. I didn’t want this to become a thing. No one here knew about me playing. I’d kept that part of my life a secret and I didn’t want to answer the question that would inevitably come with my secret getting out.
“Ok.” His brow furrowed. “It’s great seeing you.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
“Yeah, same.” I offered a half smile. I wasn’t sure if I was happy about this or not. Seeing him brought up so many memories from my past which led to feelings that I didn’t want to feel. I’d locked that part of me away and having him here made them all come back. I needed to collect myself before this coffee thing happened. Build the walls higher, stronger. Don’t let him in.