Page 31 of All Your Firsts Without Me

Lots of clapping signals my free concert is over. I might come early every week just to sit here and listen. When the door opens, Lucky pulls away from me. She spins around in circles while I try to catch her leash. “Lucky, stop,” I beg breathlessly.

The man who stepped out, picks her up so I’m finally able to snatch the end of the leash. When I look up to thank him, my heart does a weird sort of nosedive into my stomach.

His smile brightens the hallway. “April,” he says on an exhale.

“Westin,” I respond quietly, dipping my head, suddenly feeling shy.

“W-what are you doing here?” he asks before pressing his lips to the top of Lucky’s head.

“Um, I promise I’m not stalking you.” I laugh, running my clammy palms down my jeans. His eyes twinkle like emeralds in the sun. “I’m here to read to the residents.”

He shifts, glancing behind him, like he forgot where he was. When he turns back to me, the twinkle is still there. “Well, last time you arrived first, so I didn’t think you were stalking me. But the thought of you as my stalker is definitely intriguing.” He winks at me as he sets Lucky on her feet.

A thousand butterflies take flight in my chest. I laugh nervously and tuck a stray curl behind my ear. “Was that you? Singing?”

“Yeah.” He grimaces, embarrassed I heard him. “I… I don’t usually sing in front of people, but they make it easy. The residents like anything I throw at them.”

“Good to know.” I hold up my book of poetry. “I’m a little nervous they won’t like my selection.” He takes it from me, thumbing through the pages. “Your music was amazing.” Green eyes snap my way. I drop my gaze to the floor. His eyes are so intense today.

“Perhaps you could come early next week and sing with me,” he suggests.

A giggle bursts out of me at the idea of his proposal. I peek at him through my lashes. Oh shit, he’s serious. My eyes widen. “Oh, I don’t think…” I pull my hair over my shoulder thinking about it. “I couldn’t.”

“Someday?” He dips his head, trying to capture my eyes.

I shrug. “I’ve just committed to reading. Singing may be a bit farther down the road.”

His lip quirks up on one side, revealing a dimple in his cheek. He really is a handsome man. He holds out my book of poetry. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

His fingers brush against mine as I take it from him, sending a little ripple up my spine. “Yeah, that would be great, actually. I’m a little nervous.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Westin

I can’t believe she’s here. How is this happening? Our first meeting was supposed to be six months from his death. There’s two months left to go, but here she is… again.

I guess it makes sense. She’s continually been there for me. Not in the physical sense, but spiritually she’s always lingered. She’s my muse.

“Everyone, this is my friend, April. She’s here to read for you today. So be nice to her.” I point to Mr. Fredricks. “He’s an ornery one. Keep your eye on him,” I tell April.

Mr. Fredricks laughs, heartily. “Oh, honey, I’d love for you to keep your eye on me.”

April blushes, giving the residents a small wave. I pull the chair I was sitting in forward so they will be able to hear her. She sits down and I whisper in her ear, reminding her she will need to read loud.

She nods as I take the leash from her and begin introducing Lucky to each of the residents. April begins reading. Her voice holds a unique sound. She could be reciting the back of a cereal box and it would sound good. It’s an instrument in itself.

Lucky hops up on Mr. Fredrick’s lap. April notices and gives him a shy smile. He smiles back and when she returns to reading, he closes his eyes, his hand running over Lucky’s fur. I’ve never seen him so relaxed.

She recites poems of all sorts. Love, tragedy, hope, everything… it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful.

I’d only planned on staying long enough to make introductions but that was before I heard her. Now I’m glued to my chair, hanging on each word, each letter.

Before I know it, the residents are making their way down to lunch. Mr. Fredrick wheels himself towards April. “You know, I used to read poetry to my wife every night,” he tells her. Lucky jumps down and then back up in April’s lap. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it till today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for, honey?” He chucks her under the chin with an arthritic knuckle.

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