Page 21 of Rim Shot Rebound

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

 

Eric straddled the piano bench beside Kelsey and watched as she flipped through the pages of a purple notebook. When she found the right page, she bit her lip nervously. It was adorable, and he felt privileged any time he got to see her vulnerable this way. It wasn’t a side of her that she let many people glimpse.

As cute as she was biting her lip all shy like that, he wished she wouldn’t worry so much. Whatever she wrote was amazing. He had no doubt. And whatever she shared was safe with him. Always. He’d never laugh or criticize or judge any creation of hers.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Of course.”

Kelsey read a few lines of the first verse while she patted the driving waltz rhythm on her leg. She paused here and there, noting that she needed to change up a few words to get the beats right. The song detailed a Mardi Gras ball, much like the one they’d played at last month. The easygoing lyrics painted a beautiful picture of the glitz and laughter of the event, but the honesty of those words also portrayed a darker undercurrent of loss and pain and longing. He didn’t dare to hope that longing was for him.

She paused the patting on her leg, but didn’t look up from her notebook. When she continued a few seconds later, her voice quivered, but somehow she plowed through her fear and read the chorus.

 

More than a dance floor between us,

years of pain repeating.

But your smile as always

sweet as a strawberry harvest.

 

Oh the expanse between us

brings the truth in clearer.

You're not mine.

You're not mine.

 

Once she finished reading that chorus, she exhaled deeply, her eyes still glued to the page. As tough and stoic as she was about everything else, she was still anxious when it came to her writing. She needed to be liked and accepted, to have that praise and encouragement she’d missed out on as a kid. He wished there was some way he could heal those wounds for her.

But something else was going on with her now, too. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. Something she couldn’t blame on too much sun that afternoon.

She was more serious. More deliberate. More…everything.

And she wasn’t ready to open up to him about whatever was going on with her. He hadn’t earned that yet. She wasn’t pushing him away anymore, which was a start. The start of long road he planned on continuing down.

Losing her…losing the pregnancy…losing the illusion of a life together had nearly destroyed him. They had stopped being careful. They were talking about marriage. Kids had always been in their talks about the future anyway. They’d just stopped worrying about it. He had stopped worrying about everything when they were together, because everything felt right when he was with her. And when she’d gotten pregnant, they didn’t even know how much they should have worried.

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