Face the Music (40 page)

It was past ten when the phone rang.  Emily and I l
ooked at each other in surprise,
no one ever called that late.  I picked up the receiver and listened as the lady on the other end explained that my mother had just been brought into the emergency room and was suffering serious injuries from a car accident. 

Emily stayed at the house with Molly while I rushed to the hospital.  I was frantic by the time I arrived and could hardly speak when I got to the nurses’ station.  The doctor hesitated in telling me that Mom’s injuries were fatal.  She was gone. 

The room spun around me as his words sunk in, my vision tunneling into darkness.  I collapsed.  When I woke up on the floor several minutes later, he was pressing
a
cool stethoscope to my chest.  It was the worst day of my entir
e life.  I was twenty-one years
old.

As if the memories themselves weren’t enough to stress me out, my test was scheduled for the
anniversary of her death
.  April twenty-fifth.  That day w
as always excruciating for me.  I
n
the years before,
I would take the day off and disappear from t
he outside world.  Unfortunately, this test wouldn’t allow me to do that
.  It would take a tremendous amount of focus for me to keep my mind on the exam, so I spent many hours locked away in my room, buried in textbooks and pap
ers
studying for it
.  I couldn’t be disturbed.

Not all my time in seclusion was spent studying, however.  Often
,
I would catch myself daydreaming about Mom and life before the crash.  One memory in particular haunted me.  When I was very young, six or seven, I
had
had a nightmare.  In this dream
,
someone kidnapped my mom and left Emily and me all alone.  I woke up that night in tears, went to Mom’s room, and crawled into her bed.  She kissed away my tears and stroked my hair.  “Don’t worry, sweet Allie,” she said.  “No one could ever take me away from my girls.”  In that moment
,
I felt happy and secure.  Something I hadn’t felt
again
unti
l Chris had come into my life.

The day of the test
,
I was a total wreck.  Half my grade came from this one assessment. Unable to concentrate on the questions, I frantically paged through the problems and answered the few that I could.  I then spent the next two hours trying to push aside my grief so I could construct reasonable answers for the other, nearly impossible questions.  By the end of the test
,
I was a complete mess. 

I didn’t go home right away.  Instead, I took a cab out to the graveyard to visit Mom’s plot, stopping only to buy a bouquet of bright flowers. 

The cemetery was deserted, and I inhaled deeply as I walked around the twisting path towards the family plot, filling my lungs with
the musty scent of rain.  Tree
branches rustled, and b
irds struggled to fly against the
strength of the
breeze.  Dark clouds overlooked the horizon.

The mere s
ight of her grave was upsetting.  I
t was overgrown with weeds and vines.  Disgusted at the neglect, I dropped to my knees and started ripping away at the tangled, obnoxious plants.  Their roots held strong, and I became more and more frustrated with each tug.  Prickly vines crisscrossed the headstone, but I tore at them with my bare hands and barely noticed the thorns cutting into my fingers.  Tears streamed down my cheeks and damp earth covered my knees, but I didn’t relax until every last weed was cleared away.

When the work was done
,
I sat back on my heels and, with a muddy hand, wiped away the tears. 

Emily and I
had
fought over what to have engraved on the headstone.  She wanted something simple and less expensive, but I thought Mom deserved more.  I worked and saved for nearly six months so I could get what I thought was appropriate. 

An intricate pattern of butterflies was etched around the inscription.

Ann
Marie
Banks

July 11, 1967- April 25, 2007

Farewell dear Mother, Mentor, and Friend

We l
ove and will forever miss you.

“Mom, why did you have to leave?”  My voice cracked as I whispered to th
e grave.  “I miss you so much.  I
t isn’t fair.”  Streams of silent tears ran down my face. 

I looked up to the sky as if expecting a response, but the only reply I got was a strong gust of wind and darkening clouds.  It would probably
rain
soon, but I didn’t care.  I didn’t feel like going home.  I just wanted to sit and be close to Mom.

The clouds opened up and a slight drizzle came down, but I didn’t move from my spot next to the grave.  I continued my one-sided conversation.  “So there’s this guy,” I told her.  “He is a
mazing.  You’d really like him,
I do.  I think I’m falling in love with him, Mom, and
it scares me
.”  I closed my eyes, thinking of Chris.  “I would give anything to have you here to talk to.” 

The rain came down even harder, and I looked up and closed my eyes, letting the cool raindrops mix with the dirt and salty tears on my
face
. 
A gust of wind
caught my hair and
swirled
it
around.  Loose strands stuck to my
damp cheeks
. 

It dawned on me that I had no way to get home. 
I came in a cab, but this wasn’t a usual
route.  I pulled my phone out
, but the battery had died
.  I’d been so distracted with the test and everything that I’d forgotten to charge it. 

This was just my luck.  I worked so hard all semester and studied all week only to bomb my test this afternoon.  It was already a
bad day,
one of the worst of the year, and now I was stuck out in this cemetery, miles away from anything. 

I gave in to
the tears.  It didn’t matter.  N
o one was there to see me cry.  I folded my arms across my chest and
kneeled
under a large oak tree, planning to wait out the
storm before I ventured home.

The wind blew harder and was cold against my wet clothes.  I shivered.  Why did this have to happen to me, and why now, of all days?  I hugged my knees to my chest and rested my head on my arms.  The rain pounded down in sheets and the wind blew hard.  I was completely
soaked and totally
depressed
.  And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
 
Welcome to my life
, I thought miserably. 

“Allie!”

I looked up when I heard my name.  Chris
was
running towards me.  

“Here you are!”  He wrapped me up in his arms and held me tight.  I shivered and clung to him, not wanting to let go.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked. 

He hugged me close and buried his face in my wet hair.  “I came by to see how your test went.  Emily let me in, and I waited fo
r over an hour.  You never came.
”  He pulled away and looked into my dirty face.  “I tried calling, but you didn’t answer.  Then Emily realized what day it is.  Your mom.”

Lightening streaked
across
the sky, the roll of thunder seconds behind.

He held my face in his hands.
 
“Are you okay?” 

I shivered again.  “There were weeds.  I couldn’t just leave them,” I said, lo
oking down at my bloody hands. 
“I took a cab
,
but then it started raining.  My cell
is
dead, and
I didn’t have a way to get back.
”  My teeth chattered against the cold. 

“Let me take you home.”  He pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders. 

At the speed he drove, it didn’t take long to get back to civilization. 

“Where are we going?” I shouted when we drove past my building.

“To the hotel.  Is that okay?”  The bike slowed as he waited for me to answer.

“Sure.”  The engine roared as we accelerated.  I didn’t care where we went as long as I was with him. 

Once in his room, I twisted a dry towel through my ha
ir.  He took off his shirt
, and I admired the view
. 
I shivered again, but only partly from being chilly
.  “Mind if I use your shower?”
I asked.

“Help yourself.”

The water was hot and stung my skin, but it did well in washing away all the mud and tears.  My clothes were still drenched,
so,
after drying off
,
I wrapped the towel around my body and went out to find Chris.  He was lying across his bed, wearing only a pair of dry
pajama bottoms
.

He sat up immediately.

“My clothes are
wet,” I said, feeling bashful.

He got up and walked towards me, taking my hands and examining my cuts.  “This must have been a horrible day for you.” 

“It’s better now,” I said, embarrassed by the condition he’d foun
d me in.  I was glad to see him,
glad to be in out of the rain, but sorry he’d witnessed my meltdown
.  “I’m sorry.”

His brow wrinkled when he looked at me.  “For what?”

I looked at the
painting above his bed, a
geometrical abstract done in yellow hues.  “I’m s
orry you had to see me that way.  Sorry for my temporary bout with insanity.”  I
felt
like an idiot.

He pulled me against him and rubbed my back.  “Never say that.  You’ve had it rough.  You know, I’d say you deserve to be a little crazy every once in awhile.”

I pressed my ear against his chest and listened to the slow rhythm of his beating heart.  “I don’t think I did too well on my test.”

He kissed the top of my head.  “No sense stressing about it now, right?  What’s done is done.”  

I nodded at the wisdom of his words, but I couldn’t make out the expression in his eyes. 
They were darker than usual. 
“What are you thinking about?”
I asked.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” I agreed.  I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, my lips finding his.  My towel fell to the floor, but I made no move to retrieve it.

Chris sucked in a deep breath and traced a fingertip down the length of my spine.  I could barely breathe. 

“Allison,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear.  He folded his fingers between mine, lifted my hands to his lips, and kissed each knuckle
, never taking his eyes off my own
. 
He then wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me
against him. 
His lips were hard against mine, hot and fervent.  One hand slid up to the back of my head and gathered a fistful of my
wet
hair.