Page 89 of One More Time
Gah! How did Sam always know how to do that?
He turned to go. Then, just as quickly, turned back.
‘Hey, Luce?’
‘Yeah?’
‘You’re not a disaster,’ he said solemnly. ‘You never were.’ Sam exhaled heavily, like he was going to say something else, but changed his mind. ‘You’ll figure it out. You always do.’
Lucy truly hoped that was true but, just that second, she didn’t really believe it.
‘Yeah,’ she whispered. ‘Thanks.’
The dinner was delicious. And long. Lucy and Nicky sat beside each other making casual conversation with Chandler’s parents and some Heylen cousins who’d traveled from Washington to be there. Oh, and Uncle Shane. (Who was, in fact, very nice. And a total silver fox.) Nicky had reminisced about Seattle with them and it had somehow made him feel even further away. His memories were sweet and warm and she had no part in them.
There were only inches between her and Nicky at the table, but the fact that they hadn’t had a chance to discuss her pulling away from him during the ceremony made it feel like they were already in different time zones. He hadn’t touched her once. Not so much as a graze of his thigh against hers. His absence was cold and painful, and she didn’t know how to make it right. Or if she should.
Even if Lucy had been up to piling her dirty laundry on the table like a centerpiece and discussing it with all the Heylens around, she didn’t knowwhatto say to Nicky. She felt pretty good about where she’d left things with Devin, but that was just window dressing.
Had she ever really beenin itwith any of her husbands? Had she been closed off her whole life? How was she supposed to move past that? Was there a hotline for emotionally unavailable forty-somethings she could call? Why had her internal dialogue turned into an opening ofSex and the Citywith all the dumb questions? Could Carrie Bradshaw please swoop in and solve all of her problems in thirty minutes (give or take a commercial break)?
Lucy wanted to sleep for a year or two, and wake upwith an epiphany. Instead, though, she tried to listen to the speeches from Hannah, Mason, and Brandon. She smiled and clapped, acting the part she was meant to play. In truth, she was relieved when the superstar DJ they’d hired started up and the plates were cleared away.
Lucy ordered herself a vodka martini (‘Just the idea of vermouth, please’) and sucked it down hoping it could mute the churning of her mind for an hour or two.
She hadn’t realized that she’d drifted back into thought until Nicky stood up and offered her his hand.
‘Shall we?’ he asked. He looked every bit like a hero from a black-and-white movie in his tuxedo. It threw his green eyes in sharp relief – the only color she could see – and it suddenly struck her that she’d gotten used to all his tattoos. A pure, vivid riot of colors was the norm around him.
Lucy recognized the crisp sound of Tom Odell and his piano. It was Chloe’s first dance. And she was missing it.
She put her hand in Nicky’s and he threaded his fingers through hers. Gave it one firm squeeze.
On the dance floor, Nicky folded her into his body, one arm fully wrapped around her back, his fingertips biting into her waist. One of her hands found the back of his neck, the other the solid curve of his shoulder. He rocked them back and forth, the music soothing like a lullaby, making Lucy’s eyes droopy and her mind blissfully quiet.
As the song ended, Nicky buried his face in the tumble of waves at her cheek. She could feel him inhale deeply, the heat of his breath coasting over her bare shoulder ashe exhaled. He pulled back, and their eyes connected. But it was only long enough for the beat of the next song to strike their ears.
The guitar was unmistakable, the drums quaked Lucy’s heart as they always had. She and Nicky both looked over to the DJ booth in shock. There, they found Chloe sparkling like sunshine in her wedding gown. She winked at Nicky – atNicky– before descending back down to the head table.
It was ‘The Breathing Room.’
The hall went crazy as Nicky’s voice blasted through the place. Eyes drifted his way. Cousin Whatever-His-Name-Was threw him a thumbs-up. Garbled, screamed lyrics pulsed around them as people sang along discordantly, bounced, and danced.
Sharp breaths, panted names
Beginnings and endings
Sometimes feel the same
But there would be no rocking out for Nicky and Lucy. Nicky held fast to Lucy’s waist and swayed her back and forth on the slowest possible downbeat.
His lips found her ear and he whispered along with the lyrics, ‘There with you, that was it … it was the calming … it was the fit … in the Breathing Room … you gave me breathing room.’
He was so close that Lucy could feel his heart pounding through the layers between them. Still, he guided her languidly, gripping her tight with the same strong fingers that had played ‘The Breathing Room’ a thousand times.The DJ’s lights blinked colors over their skin, discordant and as rapid as the blood whooshing through her veins. It made Lucy dizzy, unsteady.
Nicky’s lips on her ear mumbled, ‘Gasps, fiery and resounding … sated and restless, I cling … come undone, life changed … endings are beginnings … sometimes, they’re the same.’
Lucy could feel the sorrow in his hushed tones. The low hum of grief was unmistakable as it rubbed up against the potency and energy of the version of his voice that suffused the air around them – the lush, hopeful timbre of a boy of twenty.
