Page 20 of The Night the Stars Went Dark

“I’m gonna try.” I offered a half smile. “You’re helping.”

“Good. So, Penny, what makes you happy?” He pointed to all the vendors that were surrounding us.

“Ice cream.” I grinned as I began dragging him toward the pink and white striped awning that adorned the front of my favorite ice cream shop. “Dad used to bring me here once a week for a double fudge cone.”

“Let’s get one in his honor.” Bryson laughed as I rushed us through the door. I hadn’t been here since before he died. I couldn’t bring myself to do it, but Bryson was making me brave. Parts of me were seeing that it was ok to love things again and to be happy.

The shop smelled just as I remembered it. The same list of flavors was posted on the wall, and the same pink napkins were stacked on the counter. Before I could even get the words out, Bryson had placed our order. When he handed me the cone full of double fudge ice cream, I couldn’t help it. I was overwhelmed with emotion. I smiled as a tear slipped free. “Thank you.” Those words didn’t seem like enough, but it was all I could manage at the time.

“Let’s walk this way.” He guided me back out onto the sidewalk and began leading us back the way we came. Whenwe reached the town square, we found a bench and sat. The drummer had finished setting up and was putting on quite a show. A small crowd had gathered, and as we sat there, Bryson tapped his foot to the beat.

“You know, you should bring your guitar here, and play. I bet you could find others who might be looking for a bandmate that way.” I tossed the idea out, thinking it was crazy and he’d ignore it.

“I might consider that…if you come and play too.” He didn’t look at me when he said it. He just let the words hang between us.

“I can’t.” It fell from my lips without any effort. I’d uttered these words so many times that I didn’t even have to think before I responded.

“Can’t or won’t?” He turned this time, shoving the final bite of his cone into his mouth.

“You know this.” I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t play anymore.” I hadn’t told him about my night in the bar a few days ago. How I gave In and let myself play and it almost broke me. How the pain almost swallows me every time my fingers touch the keys. He didn’t know that giving up that part of me was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

“I just don’t understand it, I guess. I mean, you clearly still love it. I see the way you look at the instruments. I see the smile you get when you hear a piece you know. How can you just walk away from it?” He was facing me at this point, both hands on my knees.

“It hurts too much. I’ve tried, more times than you could ever imagine. I’ll sit in front of the keys and will myself to touch them. I’ve done it, twice, and both times I felt like my heart was going to split in two. I can hear him each time I think about it, telling me how to fix whatever mistake I keep making, reminding me that I can get it. I can see him pacing as he thinksabout what piece to give me to learn. It’s all right there in my head. All the time, every day. Pushing music out of my life made it not hurt so bad.” I finished my ice cream and stood up. I needed space. He was making me feel things I wasn’t ready to deal with yet.

“Penny, it’s been five years. Do you want to live the rest of your life feeling like this? You have to let this out. Music is who you are. Let it help you.” He sounded like he was begging.

“It’s who I was.” I wiped at a falling tear. “I’m not that girl anymore.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He shook his head at me. “You’ll always be that girl. It’s who you are. You can’t hide her away. She’s in there—” he pointed at my heart “—you just have to let her out.”

“I can’t.” I started to walk away.

“It’s what you were made for,” he called at my back.

“Not anymore,” I murmured as I kept walking.

I made it all the way home. I thought he’d follow, but he didn’t. I slowly climbed the steps of my building, let myself inside my apartment, and went into my bedroom. I passed by the piano, the only thing I really had of my father’s, on the way. I flopped across the bed and began crying as I hit the mattress. What started out as a day to move on from this grief, had just been a tease. It was still there, just under the surface, like a sore that had scabbed over, and Bryson kept picking at it. Music wasn’t a part of me anymore, and I needed to him to accept it, or stay away.

Chapter 13

Bryson

What just happened? I thought we were getting somewhere, but she just shut down and walked away. I thought if I got her to see what she gave up, she’d want a part of it back. Her father wouldn’t want this life for her. He pushed her so hard to be the best, and now she doesn’t even want to be a part of it anymore.

I sat there in the square just listening to the street performers. Most played into the afternoon hours, but then it got warm out and shoppers dwindled. I thought about going after Penny several times, but each time I realized it wouldn’t do any good. She didn’t want me around right now, and forcing my company on her might cause her to retreat even more.

I slowly made my way back to my hotel and up to my room. My guitar case was standing in the corner. I opened it up and made myself comfortable on the chair in the corner. I strummed a few chords before looking at the piece of paper I’d scribbled on the night before. There were a few lyrics and some notes jotted down, but all I had at the moment was a chorus. I’d been wanting to write something original that would get me noticed. I’d been playing covers in other bands for years, but it wasn’t going anywhere. I hummed along, hoping the next phrase would come, but it didn’t. Frustration soon followed. This was the one thing I’d always struggled with. Penny and I used to joke that we’d need to get a job as a pair. She’d write the lyrics, and I’d write the melody.

I played for a few hours until my stomach growled, alerting me that I needed food. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead, so I set the guitar on my bed, and decided to go back to the bar. I had no idea if she was working, but we weren’t playing tonight, and she knew that. I thought maybe she wouldn’t avoid the bar if she thought she might not run into me.

It was only about a fifteen-minute walk, and when I opened the door, music from the sound system blared. A large group of people were gathered at the bar, and occasionally, they’d shout or let out a hoot. I scanned the place but didn’t see Penny so I made my way over to an empty spot on the end.

“Whatcha drinkin?” A petite blonde came over and placed a coaster in front of me.

“Got any ciders on tap?” I scanned the pulls around the U-shaped bar.

“We have two. A seasonal one, and our regular ‘Mad Apple’.” She smiled.

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