Page 35 of On My Side
“You’re saying sorry an awful lot for someone who has nothing to be sorry for,” I tease gently, attempting to ease her obvious discomfort.
Her responding smile is forced, and then she lowers her eyes to the case in her hand, but makes no movement to put it in her bag.
I’m not sure what’s going on right now, and frankly, I’d bet good money she doesn’t either. Is she so afraid of touching me again she’s going to spend the rest of the night staring at an empty earplugs case?
Applause erupts around us as the song ends. Neither she or I clap, but I feel the applause reverberating in my chest, my heart pounding in time with it.
As the symphony transitions into the next song, the legendaryStar Warstheme, I hesitantly hold my hand out to her.
She looks at it for a moment, before gently placing the case in my hand. Instead of pulling away, her fingertips graze the sensitive skin of my palm, and this time, my own breath catches.
She pulls away and clears her throat, her eyes trained on the stage. I lean forward to slip the case into my pants pocket, close enough to her that her scent—that intoxicating jasmine perfume—is unnerving. My breath on her neck must be as intoxicating for her, because she makes a tiny gasping sound as her breath catches, and she captures her bottom lip. I follow her lead and fixmy eyes on the symphony, casually leaving my hand palm up on the arm rest between us.
I don’t think she’ll do anything. If she were to do anything, what would she even do? Hold my hand? We’re not in middle school…
I nearly spring from my seat when her hand touches mine. I don’t know who starts it, all I know is our fingers intertwine andoh my god are we holding hands?
We must be in middle school, because holding hands with Audrey Hinton is the most thrilling thing to ever happen to me.
I rebelliously allow my thumb to gently stroke her hand, earning that delicious breath catch again. When I turn my head towards her, she’s still looking straight ahead, but there’s something different about her.
She’s smiling, eyes shining like she knows a secret no one else does.
Chapter 13
Audrey
Playlist: I Want to Hold Your Hand | Kate McGill
A little over fourteen years ago, Piper took her first steps. She’d kept me up all night, screaming, and refusing to settle. Out of pure desperation, and a need to get out of the house, I carried her to the beach as the sun rose over the sound. When she’d pushed herself to her feet and swayed, I’d gotten to my own feet and taken two steps backward, just to see. To my surprise, this wobbling little creature took two tiny steps forward before falling back on her butt. She’d stared up at me expectantly, like she had done it because she knew I needed it. Knew I needed something to remind me life could be good.
While nothing will ever beat that moment, my hand enveloped in Ren’s for the entirety of this concert is a new moment I’ll remember on the days when the darkness is too much. When I need help remembering there is some good in the world, and it’s happened to me.
As the lights come on at the end of the concert, he and I get to our feet like everyone else in the concert hall. Unlike everyone else, we aren’t clapping. And despite my expectations, his handis still firmly clasping mine, filling me with a warm feeling I’ve only ever dreamed of.
“Did you like it, Mom?”
I am the worst mother in the world. I almost forgot my kid is next to me.
I quickly glance at our clasped hands and pull mine away. I pretend not to notice the way he flexes his hand before he shoves it into his pocket. I quickly turn away and face Piper.
“I did!” I tell her, an all-too-real smile on my face. “It was great.”
“Which score was your favorite?” she asks.
Oh. That’s… not what made the concert enjoyable.
“Hey,” Ren leans across me and grins brightly at Piper. “Did you like it?”
“Ilovedit!” Piper squeals, clasping her hands together. “It made me want to watch the movies they’re from! The music told a story all on its own.”
“Yes!” Ren says enthusiastically, and I don’t know, being sandwiched between these two adorable nerds may be the second best thing to happen tonight. “That’s what a good score or soundtrack should do. John Williams is one of the greats, for sure.”
Ren gives Piper her earplug case back as we file out of our row and into the lobby. Ren excuses himself to run to the restroom, and Piper and I wait in the lobby.
I’m checking my work email when she clears her throat. I raise a brow. “Yes?”
“You never answered my question,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.
