Page 62 of Sing For Me

My eyebrows fly up. Never once have I known Kelly to admit to behaving badly. When we were married, after fights she’d initiate, she’d kind of sidle up to me and start talking about mundane things. That was her way of showing me she wasn’t mad anymore. But she’d never own up to anything.

I think of Reese then, how the one time she snapped at me back when we were in Jewel Lakes after a shitty day at the restaurant she worked at, she’d felt so bad she cried. It had made me wonder just what had happened to her in the past to make her think that wasn’t just a normal part of two human beings being close.

I never wished Kelly would have done that, but she never confessed to being at fault. Or at least, she never used to.

“I’m uncomfortable,” she admits, folding her arms. “I never wanted to come here. It was all Neil. Well, you saw it. And now that I’m here, you and Reese…I didn’t think…” She hesitates. “Anyway, you look happy. And Neil is so preoccupied with the show and…other things. I’m not at my best.”

I’ve never seen her like this—awkward and unsure.

No, that’s not true. When Kelly and I first met, she was sweet. Young, innocent. Ambitious. But that latter quality grew legs. It went from being inspirational to ugly. She grew possessive with her stories at work, sure the other reporters were trying to steal her leads and opportunities. Bitter and hard when they won promotions and accolades without her. She once asked me if I thought she was pretty enough for a national news anchor role. That had struck me as the saddest thing, especially since nothing I said seemed to matter to her.

I see that desperate insecurity flash over her face now, just the tiniest flash before it’s back to one more distant, more pensive.

“I think I thought things would be different—more relaxed—when I stopped being onscreen myself. I thought I’d feel good, taking myself out of the game while I was on top. Switching to producing. But I miss it. I miss that thrill of chasing a story, being first on the scene. Do you remember, Eli, how you used to drive me to those stories?”

She reaches for my arm again, and this time I do step back.

“I miss lots of things,” she says, holding her rejected hand like it’s been burned.

But the way she’s holding it reminds me of Reese. Of how she rubs that fucking ink on her wrist. How she tried to hide it from me when we first met.

My mind is so messed up, my feelings and words so jumbled in my chest, that I almost don’t hear the buzzing of my phone, strapped to me in the little pack on my waist.

I pull out my phone, awkwardly. It’s just my running app, asking me if I’ve finished running.

No, I’m not finished. Not even close.

Still, it’s a good out. I hold up my phone. “I’m sorry, Kelly. I have to take this.”

I don’t even wait until I’m out of sight before finding Reese’s name and dialing.

CHAPTER15

Reese

TRACK:Nina June, “Rainbow Ashes”

Iscratch a line through the words on my notebook.

I never knew days could roll by like thunder…

I never knew days could roll by like a thundering river.

It’s not great. But it’s a little better. I remind myself it doesn’t have to be perfect because this isn’t for anyone but me.

I pull down the mic, readjusting myself on the stool and Lenny on my lap. Rufus doesn’t even look up from his blanket in the corner, which, even though he’s a dog, has gone a long way to easing my nerves since we got here this morning. He loves me even if I suck.

Then I strum the chord and sing the line.

Not quite there, but it feels good. I try adjusting my hold on the syllables.

I never knew days could roll byyyy like a thundering riiiiiver.

I grin, making a note in my book before trying the whole song. It comes out clean and easy, and by the end, I’m slapping Lenny and Rufus is standing up and barking excitedly.

“Not bad, right?” I laugh at Rufus, admonishing him to calm down. Then I get up and stretch.

I’ve been here since nine this morning—and it’s been, frankly, amazing, though my voice is starting to get a little hoarse. I know I need a break.

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