Page 9 of Rim Shot Rebound

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

Kelsey stood frozen in the doorway. Eric was wearing a burgundy flat cap and that threadbare Miles Davis T-shirt she’d run her fingers over so many times, and her gaze honed in on the outline of his chest and shoulder muscles beneath the fabric. When she lifted her eyes, she found him staring back at her, his face lit up like he’d been waiting for her forever.

If only.

“Hey, come in.” He moved aside so she could enter the cozy old house she’d always loved. It had history and life to it. The floors and walls creaked with the spring and summer storms, as if they had stories of their own to tell.

She walked inside to the dimly lit living room. Strings of white lights hung from the ceiling, and The Meters, Eric’s favorite band, filled the room with soft, soothing funk. Someone else might think he was trying to set a mood. But Kelsey knew better. None of this was for her. This was simply pure Eric. Kelsey had spent so many nights in this house over the past couple years listening to those creaky walls, sleeping in that room down the hall…

A chill ran up her spine, and she shook those memories from her brain. No sense living in the past. The present was messy enough.

“Can I get you something to drink? I have cherry Coke in the fridge.”

He hated the stuff, but he always kept some cans around because it was her favorite. It was the one sweet treat she craved, and the only thing that got her through some of their late night rehearsals. As careless as Eric had been with her, he could also be the most thoughtful person. Especially with little details like that.

It was the big stuff that flew by him.

She held up the half-finished bottle of water in her hand. “Still working on this. Thanks.”

“I got your soup.” He fidgeted with containers on the table. “And some spring rolls. Just in case you were hungrier by the time you got here. Or for later. Or whatever.” His words were rushed, like he was nervous. For what, she had no idea. Maybe about being on their own for this song.

She sat at the little table while he poured soup into a gigantic brick-red coffee mug and handed it to her with a spoon.

“Thanks. Soup’s good for now.” Truthfully, she couldn’t stomach even the thought of eating anything fried right now, but there was no way to tell him that without getting into the why of it.

A legal pad and a pen sat on the table beside the food. Ever the Boy Scout. Always prepared. As spontaneous and impulsive as he could be sometimes, he could be equally thoughtful and responsible. One of the many surprises she’d grown to love about him.

She squirmed in her seat and looked down to stir her soup. Focus, Kel. “So you have any ideas for direction on this? Did Robin mention to you if she wants something slow or up-tempo or what?” She’d been in such a hurry to escape the night before that she forgot to ask.

“I texted her today.” He sat beside her, and she stared at the strong column of his neck and the meticulously trimmed facial hair outlining his jaw. “Whatever we want to do. She just wants new stuff. I’m sure she’d like to build up to a new album at some point, but she doesn’t have any specific ideas yet.”

An album. Kelsey’s mind raced with possibilities and the tempting carrot of writing more with the band, even if she was too pregnant to gig with them for a while.

But none of that gave any direction for the task in front of them. Kelsey usually found it easier to write within some defined parameters, but she’d have to figure this out without any. They would have to figure this out…together.

She glanced at the upright piano against the living room wall. The one he’d inherited from his grandfather, who’d bought it secondhand from his church decades ago. Kelsey and Eric used to sit side by side at that piano, her hip pressed against his on that bench, while his long fingers traveled across the keys with ease and skill.

Crap. What had she gotten herself into?

She took another sip of soup to settle her stomach and warm her nerves. “Did you have any thoughts?”

Eric finished the huge chunk of eggroll he’d bitten off and swallowed. After he chased it with water, he said, “I don’t know. I was thinking maybe something slow? Since we’ll have a huge audience and usually play a lot of upbeat stuff. Plus it might be easier to pick up. Especially since Lauren’s still getting her feet under her.”

“Good point.” Kelsey’s stomach tightened. He made a lot of sense. Fewer notes. Fewer lyrics. Faster to learn.

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