Page 8 of Rim Shot Rebound

“Wanna come watch us tonight? New band—me, Ryan, and a couple other guys. We’re playing at a new little bar next to the Cuban place downtown. Short set, time to hit clubs after. You in?”

Ryan was a drummer who also taught at the music school. Eric had crawled the downtown bar scene with these guys many nights, after gigs and back when they were all in college together. Eric liked hanging with them, because they were as comfortable hanging anywhere—sports bars; gay clubs; tiny, dark, grungy dives; wherever—as he was, depending on the night and their mood. They were easygoing, funny, up for anything. It was an invitation he’d normally jump on.

“Sounds awesome,” he said. “But I’m writing music with Kelsey tonight.”

Josh squinted at Eric like he was another confusing computer screen. “That code for something?”

Eric laughed. “No, man. Actual music.”

“Oh, cool.” Josh squinted again. “You two a thing again?”

Josh had been around for the start of Eric and Kelsey’s relationship, not long after Eric joined Robin’s band a couple years ago. Josh had been witness to all the highs of that relationship as well as the devastating lows, plus all the topsy-turvy stuff in between. And as much as Eric had always been grateful to consider Josh a friend, he’d been even more glad to have someone rooting for him and Kelsey all along.

“No, just writing music.” But he must have paused a little too long before he said that.

Josh chuckled. “Sure. Sure.”

“We aren’t,” Eric insisted. “Not yet anyway.”

Josh gave an approving smile. “For fun or for real this time?”

This time he didn’t hesitate. “Kelsey’s always for real.”

His feelings for Kelsey had never faltered. Only his fears, guilt, and pride. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness for giving up on what they had, no matter the reason, and he was pretty sure she’d never take him back. But he knew he had to try.

“Well, good luck, dude,” Josh said. “Hope it works out.”

The school phone rang. Josh answered it while Eric walked to the front door. He stared out into the parking lot while he tapped his foot and hummed a Tower of Power bass line.

Josh made a few clicks on the computer, then hung up the phone. “Good news. Your 4:30’s stuck behind an accident across town, so they rescheduled. Next Tuesday. Three o’clock. Looks like you’re done for today.”

“Sweet. Thanks.” Eric patted the desk and headed back to the practice room to pack up his things.

Josh called out after him. “You know where to find us later if you change your mind.”

“Thanks!” Eric said with a quick wave.

But there was no changing his mind. Not on Kelsey. Not this time.

 

* * * * *

 

Forty-five minutes later, Eric was unlocking the front door of his rented house across town, his music bag slung over one shoulder and his other arm balancing a bag of Chinese food. Once inside, he dropped his music bag on the living room floor and placed the food on the little dinette table in the corner. Then he turned on the lights and put on The Meters while he unbuttoned his shirt and found an old, soft T-shirt to change into. The one with Miles Davis on it. Kelsey’s favorite.

She’d bought it for him during one of their day trips to New Orleans. Somehow she’d bought it from a shop without him noticing, then she’d left it folded for him on his pillow back home. He’d never wear another shirt besides that one if he could get away with it.

Not that he was wearing it intentionally for her tonight. He just loved the shirt. Miles was the man, after all. But whatever helped his cause, right? He’d need all the help he could get for his mission to get Kelsey back.

When he returned to the living room, Eric rubbed his hands together wondering what to tackle next. First task: wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans.

He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t like he’d never hung out with Kelsey alone before. Sure, they’d never written music together. Not without Camille there, too. But still. He didn’t have anything to be nervous about. This was Kelsey.

Exactly why he had everything to be nervous about.

He started taking containers out of the bag and lining them up on the table. He’d texted Kelsey after he packed up at the school to see if she wanted her usual order: Kung Pao shrimp with a spring roll. But she just wanted hot and sour soup. Weird. For her, at least. Not that they’d been eating together much the last few months. Maybe her tastes had changed. Or maybe it was like she’d said and she just wasn’t very hungry. Either way, he’d ordered some spring rolls for her anyway. Just in case she was hungry by the time she got there.

As soon as he grabbed a handful of forks and spoons from the kitchen and placed them on the table, a knock at the front door startled him. Not just any knock. Kelsey’s quick, rhythmic knock.

The utensils went scattering across the table and onto the wood floor with a startling clatter. Eric looked at the mess for a second, then wiped his sweaty palms on his pants again and lowered the speaker volume before heading to the door.

When he opened it, Kelsey was standing there in shredded jeans and her vintage Stevie Nicks tee. Her partial tattoo sleeve peeked out from the edge of the fabric, and below that her collection of leather and metal bracelets covered her wrists and forearms. She wasn’t short, but he still had to look down at her, and their height difference meant he could always smell her deliciously crisp, green apple scented shampoo.

Eric took one look at her soft, round face with those blue-gray eyes and that shy, sweet smile of hers, and he forgot why he was supposed to be nervous at all.

 

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