Page 14 of All Your Firsts Without Me

“No. See right here.” He pushes a sheet of paper listing all the songs David had picked for his service. He left nothing much for us to do. Everything is planned, all we had to do was pick a time and date. He taps his finger beside my favorite song. Penciled in, in my husband’s handwriting it says vocals by April Langston.

“I don’t sing. Why would he want me to sing at his funeral?” I ask the room. Everyone shrugs.

He must have heard you sing if he requested it, April,” Jeff says.

“I can’t sing. No. I especially can’t sing at his funeral. He is asking too much.” I push the paper away and rise from the table, leaving them all behind as I rush outside. I need fresh air.

The funeral home director runs to catch up with me as I’m getting ready to cross the street. “Mrs. Langston! Mrs. Langston, please I have something for you.”

I stop along the curb and wait for him; he is panting by the time he reaches me. He hands me a letter. “Take a moment. Then please come back inside and join us. No one is pressuring you to do anything.”

“No one but my husband,” I reply tiredly, taking the letter from his hand.

I cross the street and sit on the bus stop bench to read my second letter of the day.

Dearest April,

How far did you get before the funeral home director caught up to you?

I glance around nervously.

I’m here, but I’m not here. I don’t write these letters to mess with your mind. I write them because I know you so well. Anyhow, I asked the director to give you this letter if you denied my request. Which I knew you more than likely would.

I’ve never told you this and I’m not sure why, I guess it was because I felt you had so much pressure on your shoulders to speak that asking you to sing seemed cruel. Anyhow, I never told you how I found you. We had cleared your father’s compound and were doing recon work. I was in your father’s office going through files when I heard a girl singing. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Giles and I followed the sound to the basement but found nothing. We were just about to leave when I heard the sweet melody again. Your voice led me to you. I couldn’t make out the words you were singing, but it was your voice that captivated me.

I need that now, April. I want you to sing for me so my soul can find you. Sing at my funeral, let our friends and family hear your voice. Let them hear what I heard all those years ago. Then don’t stop. Sing in the shower, sing on the beach, just sing. Please, for me. I’m afraid my soul will flit around looking for you if you do not do this for me.

Sing your favorite song. You’ve always loved that one. I was sure at some point I would catch you singing along when it played on the radio, but you never did. Not once. I’ve always known that music was a big part in your healing. Let it heal you now. Sing for me, April. Please sing for me.

Your humble husband,

David

Why is he asking such a monumental thing from me? I don’t know if I can. How can I sing in front of a room full of people when I can barely speak in a small group? But he asked. He’s never asked me for much of anything… until now.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Westin

I was getting ready to head out the door when David’s partner, Giles, pulled up in my driveway. My heart dropped to my stomach and I had to hold the doorframe to keep myself upright. He was pretty choked up as well, so we kept the exchange short. He asked me to sit with him and his wife at the service. I hadn’t planned on going. I mean, I guess I didn’t think I should. But Giles told me David was adamant I be there.

He was great. The best of the best. One of those guys you meet, and you know instantly he is an honorable man.

Our first meeting was a little awkward. I contacted David not knowing he was married to April. I had been one of the lucky few who had received an advanced copy of her memoir from her publisher. The story of the girl in the basement. I thought reading it would help my obsession, but all it did was dump fuel on the fire. So, I set out to find her. I got nowhere. That was when I decided to find the officer who found April locked in the basement.

When I finally got a number for him, I was ecstatic. I was sure he would be able to help me find her. He agreed to meet me at the White Glass Lounge. When he arrived, I told him my story, told him who I was and why it was so important to locate her. April was my muse, and I needed her. I still need her.

Looking back, I’m surprised he didn’t punch me in the nose first and ask questions later. He listened quietly, and then he smiled. I poured my heart and soul out to this man, and then he told me April was his wife. The world stopped in that moment. I was devasted, and yet I wasn’t, because I still held on to the hope that he would at least introduce me to her. But that’s not what happened.

He never introduced her and I. Last Friday was the first time I ever saw her. She walked into the bar and it was like all of time stopped. David looked towards the door as soon as it opened, like he could sense her before she even arrived. Their eyes met and the love I witnessed made my heart clench painfully. I watched their interaction with fascination and a longing in my soul.

Then she stood right next to me, waiting for the waitress to take her payment. David selected her favorite song on the jukebox, and I gently nudged her arm, telling her it looked like someone was waiting for a dance. She didn’t even look my way. Her eyes were solely on him.

I trembled at her nearness, scared I would do or say the wrong thing. It wasn’t our time, it was theirs. David only allowed me that glimpse as a way of showing me the stakes. When we spoke the next morning by phone, he told me if I want her to look at me the same way she looked at him, it will take a lot of work and patience. I’m willing to do that. I am.

You’re thinking I’m a stalker, aren’t you? You’re wondering why in the world would David ever go along with this. Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’m not sure if April will ever love me like she does David. Maybe she won’t even like me. But no risk, no reward. I have to try.

Something happened during all of this that I didn’t expect. I started to look at David as a father figure. I evidently needed him as much as I thought I needed her. Our Friday afternoons at the bar became something I looked forward to each week and I think he did too. Now I’m lost and feeling terribly alone. I miss him. I miss him a lot.

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