Read After Hello Online

Authors: Lisa Mangum

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After Hello (8 page)

BOOK: After Hello
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“You said we were going to a church?” I slipped my sunglasses over my eyes, even though we were partially in the shade. Sam was much too observant for his own good, and I didn’t want to take the risk that he would see something he shouldn’t in my eyes.

“St. John’s.” Sam pointed. “It’s just up the street.”

“Then what are we waiting for? We’ve got a job to do.”

“A job?”

“For Piper,” I reminded him. “We have to find something amazing that she can hang above her fireplace—or else.”

“Oh, I know. I’m well aware of the ‘or else.’ It’s just that calling it a
job
makes it sound so . . . boring. A job is something you do every day—at least, it’s something I do every day—and I’m not sure what we are doing is an everyday sort of thing.”

“What would you call it, then?”

He drummed his fingers against his leg in thought. “An assignment?”

I made a face. “Sounds too much like homework.”

“A threat?”

“That makes it sound too dangerous.”

Sam shrugged lightly. “Then it’s gotta be a quest.”

“What?” I laughed. “We’re not on a quest.”

“Aren’t we? A dashing hero”—Sam pointed at his chest—“and a beautiful girl”—he pointed at me; I blushed—“are looking for the one object that will appease the wicked queen and save us all.”

“Piper,” I said with distaste.

“Exactly.”

“She is rather wicked,” I allowed. “But a
quest?
I don’t know—it
sounds so . . . silly.”

“That’s because you’re thinking of dragons and magic and elves—”

“Oh, my!” I chimed in and was rewarded with a smile from Sam. His smiles were beautiful. They added just the right amount of curve to his mouth. And they had just the smallest hint of unexplained sadness that kept them interesting.

“But a quest can be for anything—knowledge, love, a ham sandwich—not just a dragon’s lair or a magical ring.”

“Though I suppose you know where we can find one of those, don’t you?” I teased.

“A magical ring? Maybe,” he replied. “This is New York. You can find anything here.”

“Hmm, while a magical ring might qualify as ‘unexpected and bold,’ Piper also said ‘no fakes,’ so it would have to be a
real
magical ring, and that might be tricky.”

“True. And unless it was a hot pink magical ring, I doubt it would match her décor.”

I laughed again. “So rings are out—”

“Magical rings.”

“—
magical
rings are out. Dragons, too, probably.” I sighed melodramatically. “I guess we’ll just have to find something else to quest for. You mentioned something about a ham sandwich . . . ?”

His smile flashed bright. “So you agree with me. We
are
on a quest.”

All my earlier dark thoughts had fled from the force of Sam’s cheerfulness. Everything around me seemed brighter; everything inside me felt lighter. I looked up at Sam, noting the line of his jaw and the way his hair curled a little around his ears. I caught a glimpse of a silver chain around his neck, the thin metal disappearing beneath his shirt. When he ran his thumb along the underside of the strap again, I wondered what else he had in his messenger bag.

I had never met anyone like Sam before. I thought he was beyond interesting, and he seemed to offer more questions than he answered. I felt a small bubble of happiness start to swell inside my chest.

“Yes,” I said after a moment. “I suppose we are.”

 

Chapter 12

 

Sam

 

The doors to St. John’s Cathedral were tall and imposing. The dark bronze appeared almost black against the carved stone panels flanking the doors. Statues of people and stories from the Bible decorated the walls and the doors. Sam recognized only a couple of them—mostly the ones from the New Testament—but he could appreciate the artistry and the work that had gone into them. He especially liked the angels that seemed to soar high above.

Sara leaned so far back, her eyes following the rise of the spires, that, for a moment, Sam worried she might fall over.

“Wow,” she breathed. “This is amazing.”

“You don’t have cathedrals like this where you live?”

She shook her head, her mouth open slightly as she tilted her head even farther back.

“And where is that, exactly?” he asked, fishing for information. “I don’t remember . . .”

“That’s because I didn’t say,” Sara replied. She walked up the last few steps, brushing past him on her way to the doors.

“Are you ever going to tell me?” he asked.

She paused on the threshold of the doorway and looked back over her shoulder. “Maybe,” she said, a daring edge to her smile.

Sam chose to hear the word as a promise instead of an evasion. There had been a moment—right before she’d hidden behind her sunglasses—when he thought he had caught a glimpse of something unexpected. A deeply hidden pain. Raw anger. And maybe a little fear. Perhaps his first impression of her had been accurate. Perhaps they were kindred spirits after all.

There were layers to her that made her intriguing because beneath those layers of emotions, Sam sensed a core of strength in her. He appreciated that. Most people would have delivered the book to Piper and then walked away from her outlandish demand with a simple,
Not my problem
attitude. Not Sara. Even after he had pointed that out to her, she had accepted the quest, and Sam suspected if anyone could see it through to the end, it would be her.

He followed her into the church, trying to remember if he had ever been as brave as Sara seemed to be. Maybe. Once. Not anymore, though.

Sara hadn’t gone far. She stood just inside the doorway, her face lifted toward the high, arched ceilings. “Oh, wow,” she said again. She slid her glasses back up onto her head, her face peaceful.

The afternoon light filtered through the stained-glass panels on the walls and touched the floor with color. The rich sounds of organ music filled the church. Deep bass notes rumbled through the air, followed by a flurry of ever-increasing notes that traveled all the way up the scales to a piercingly high soprano pitch. Sam had been gambling that Daniel would be on the bench this afternoon. Sounded like he was right. That was good. But Sam knew they’d have to hurry if they wanted to talk to him before he left for the day.

Sam touched Sara’s shoulder and gestured for her to follow him.

They each dropped a few dollars into the donation box—the volunteer thanked Sam by name—and then they walked down the long aisle toward the nave. Tall, arched alcoves lined the aisle on either side. Sara pulled out her camera and looped the strap around her wrist. Her fingers twitched like she wanted to take a few pictures, but Sam tugged on her sleeve and quickened his pace. He wished they could take their time and really explore the church, give Sara the time she wanted to frame up some amazing pictures, but from the sound of the music filling the room, Daniel was almost done with his organ recital.

They reached the choir seats and Sam glanced up into the loft where the organist sat. A group of people stood together in a small cluster, watching Daniel play the final measures of music.

Sara sat in one of the empty chairs facing the loft, her eyes closed, basking in the echoing sound of the organ.

Daniel struck the final, thundering chord. The note held for a moment, then slowly faded away. The smattering of applause sounded weak and small in its wake. Daniel stood up from the bench and shook hands with each member of the tour group who had been watching him, then turned and stretched, lifting his arms high above his shaved head.

Sam raised his hand, waving to catch Daniel’s attention. “Not bad—for a beginner,” he called up in a loud whisper.

Daniel leaned his elbows on the railing. His dark skin looked even darker against the pale white marble of the balustrade. “Beginner?” he scoffed. “Nah, I
earned
my place here, my man.”

“Have a minute?”

“Always. Gimme a sec; I’ll be right down.”

Sam joined Sara on the front row, leaning back in his chair and stretching out his long legs.

“So, do you like it here?”

She nodded. “It’s so beautiful. And . . . quiet.”

Sam chuckled. “You didn’t appreciate the music?”

“No, it’s not that. Honest. It’s just . . . this place makes me feel quiet. On the inside.”

“I know what you mean. An inside quiet can be a good thing.” Sam absently reached for the silver chain around his neck and felt the familiar shape of the dog tags and the token that he wore beneath his shirt. As soon as he realized what he was doing, though, he dropped his hand. He hoped Sara hadn’t noticed; he didn’t want to invite too many questions. Or conjure up unwanted memories.

“You must come here a lot,” she said. “I mean, it seems like the people know you here. The lady at the donation box. The organist.”

“Oh, lots of people know me,” he said, but he made sure to keep his tone light. He didn’t want Sara to think he was bragging. “But I do love this place. When I first got to New York, I would come here at least once a week.”

“So you must be pretty religious, then, right?”

Sam swallowed. So much for keeping his memories quiet. He hadn’t meant to let the conversation take such a personal turn. Especially not here. He would have to be more careful.

Daniel emerged from one of the archways and jogged softly toward the choir seats.

“Hang on a sec.” Sam stood up, grateful for the interruption, and met Daniel partway, knocking knuckles and then slapping his back in greeting.

“Good to see you, Sam, my man. What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Sara and I are on a quest for a rather particular client.” He gestured at Sara, who sat a few feet away. She offered a small wave, then pulled one leg onto the seat with her, wrapping her arms around her bent knee.

Daniel leaned back on his heels and whistled, low, between his teeth. “You subcontracting your subcontracts now?”

Sam shook his head. “Not exactly. This is an unusually tricky job, and I’m helping out to make sure everyone wins.”

“Mm-hmm, I see, I see,” Daniel said, his dark eyes dancing. “’Cuz you’re all about helping the pretty girls in distress, aren’t you?”

“You know it.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Listen, I need a favor.”

“’Course you do. These days, you never stop by unless you’re on a job.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Doesn’t have to be fair—just has to be the truth. We’re in a church, my man. No lies allowed.”

Sam blew out his breath. “I’m not in the mood for one of your guilt trips, Daniel.”

“Then stop holding on to your guilt.”

Sam had to turn away from the softness in Daniel’s voice. His eyes fell on Sara—all angles on the outside, but filled with quiet on the inside—and he had to look away from her as well.

“Aw, hey, man, I’m sorry,” Daniel said, touching Sam’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay,” Sam said, shrugging off the touch. He heard the snap in his voice and shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said again, this time softer. “I know what you meant.”

“We good?”

“Yeah.” Sam shifted his bag. “Always.”

“Good.” Daniel smiled. “Then tell me what this favor of yours is and how ol’ Danny boy can help.”

Sam returned the smile, though it still felt a little brittle. “I’ll let Sara tell you the details.” He slapped Daniel on the back again and turned him toward the choir seats, hoping to regain some of that inside quiet that he’d felt once upon a time.

 

Chapter 13

 

Sara

 

“This is a tricky one,” Daniel said, handing Piper’s head shot back to me. “And this is all you have to go on?”

“Sam seemed to think you’d have some ideas that might help.” I risked a glance at Sam. I hadn’t been able to overhear his conversation with Daniel, but whatever they’d talked about had made Sam uncomfortable. A wall had come up around him that hadn’t been there before.

“And if you don’t make it back with the goods, then Paul’s head will roll?” Daniel ran his palm over the top of his shaved head. “That’s brutal, man.”

“My first thought was to see if you were finished with your sonata yet,” Sam said. He sat on the other side of Daniel but kept his eyes fixed on his boots.

“My baby? Naw, I’m not done yet. Why—what did you want with it?” A cautious tone had entered Daniel’s voice.

Sam tapped his fingers on his knee in a roundabout rhythm. “When Piper said she wanted something ethereal and original, I thought of your music first.”

“You did?” Daniel’s face lit up at Sam’s compliment. His smile took years off his age. Not that he was old to begin with, but now he looked to be about fourteen or fifteen instead of the mid-twenties I suspected he really was.

“I thought, if your sonata was done, we could make a copy of the score and frame it and give that to Piper.”

Daniel’s eyebrows came together. “Oh, I don’t know about that. My music is personal. And my baby is shy—you know how art is.” He bumped his elbow with mine as though we shared a secret.

I liked Daniel instantly.

“You write music?” I asked.

Daniel wiggled his long fingers. “Every day. You can’t play for as long as I have without the music in your soul demanding to be released.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew his phone. He touched a few buttons, and suddenly the screen was filled with staff lines and notes crowding together. “I’m still working on this one, but I think it’ll be my best one yet.”

I took Daniel’s phone and scrolled through page after page of music. Partway through the last page, the notes stopped, but clearly Daniel had more he planned to write.

“I wish I could do that,” I sighed.

“Write music?” Daniel retrieved his phone and slipped it back into his pocket.

I nodded.

“You play at all?”

I shrugged. “I used to play the piano—a little. Took lessons when I was a kid and everything.”

“Why did you stop?” Daniel angled his body toward me, but I could see over his shoulder that Sam had sat up a little straighter as well.

“I stopped because—” My words caught in my throat.
Because my mom had been my teacher and when she left, she took the music with her.
“Because I just did, I guess,” I finished, feeling lame. Heat encircled my neck. I ran my fingers over the camera in my lap, wishing I could delete a bad memory as easily I could delete a bad image.

BOOK: After Hello
12.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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