Page 51 of Always a Chance
When I got downstairs without waking anyone else, I crept out into the rain, and Talia ran toward me, a grin stretching her pretty lips. “It’s raining, Johnny. Do you know what that means?”
I hadn’t, but I wanted to. I wanted her to tell me what put so much light in her eyes.
“Today, everything is clean.”
“Okay.” I hadn’t understood her then like I did now.
She’d gripped my shoulders, rain wicking off her nose. “It’s a fresh start. Don’t you feel it?”
A fresh start. The rain thundering down on the roof of my car now, fifteen years after that morning, didn’t feel like a new beginning. I second-guessed every choice I’d made that led me here, but it was too late to go back now.
I parked in the nearly empty lot outside Bay Park, a large stretch of grass and winding gardens along the coast. Most people thought Gulf City was all beaches and tourist spots, but they were wrong.
“What are we doing here?” Talia asked.
“Do you trust me?” I couldn’t look at her as I asked it.
“I… I don’t know.”
“Good enough for me.” It had to be. “Leave your phone in the car if you don’t want it to get wet.” I stepped out before she could ask anything else.
Sometimes, when I needed a change of scenery, I came to Bay Park and sat at one of the picnic tables with my notebook, writing by hand. It meant something to me because it was my place. I never came here with anyone else, and not even my family knew to find me here.
At the far end sat a gazebo lit up by twinkling white lights strung along the inside. From here, I could see the outline of Renly Ingham hunched on the same metal chair he sat on every day, rain or shine.
The gazebo protected him from the rain, but it meant he had no audience to enjoy the smooth tone of his saxophone.
I wiped the water from my eyes and looked over the car to where Talia stood. “You love your rain.” It was all the explanation I needed.
She shut the door. “The answer is yes, Johnny. I trust you.”
I rounded the car and extended a hand to her. She placed her wet palm against mine, and my heart kicked up a notch.
I tugged her toward the park, picking up speed until we were both running. Laughter sounded next to me, and I glanced over to see the smile she let loose.
It was better than I imagined.
We neared the gazebo, and Renly stopped playing. “Johnny boy, that you?” His failing eyesight hit me deeply when I first noticed it. “Yes, sir. And I brought a friend.”
“Do they have a pretty smile? It’s all in the smile, you know. Their soul is in the eyes, but the smile… well, it holds their joy.”
I glanced sideways at Talia, who was still holding my hand. Her eyes never left Renly. “Yeah, Ren. It’s all there.”
“Good, good. Well, young people, how about I play a little something for you?”
The song started, an upbeat jazz tune. Talia dropped my hand and turned in a circle, her face lifted toward the rain. It washed away the pain, the hurt, if only for just a moment. Maybe a moment was all we needed.
I watched her dance, badly and by herself, as she’d done that day so many years ago when she woke me up for an early celebration. Pieces of that kid peeked through the hard demeanor of the woman she’d become.
And suddenly, I didn’t know how I’d even tried hating her for the last decade of my life. Maybe I’d fooled myself, maybe I’d forgotten. But pain doesn’t erase everything that came before it, not unless we let it.
“Oh, tea!” She eyed the cafe nearby. It was little more than a tiny coffee shop with a few outdoor tables, but there was no stopping her.
We stepped inside, and the air conditioning made us both shiver. Before I could stop her, Talia pulled her credit card out of her pocket and paid. I didn’t realize she had an extra until we were walking back to the gazebo. “You must be thirsty.”
She looked confused for a second before glancing down at the drinks. “Oh, it’s not for me.”
I watched her saunter up to the gazebo and hand Renly a coffee, guiding his hand to it and saying something that made him smile.
