April's Glow (18 page)

Zac …

Huh? She opened her eyes. For a moment she thought he was tricking her and had walked in, ready to catch her in the act. He had promised he would walk into her store one day, but she knew he was nowhere near being ready to do that. If he ever would. Which reminded her, she had to read his book. Read the book, and he'd walk in here one day. She better get reading tonight, especially now she had finished the book Olivia gave her, and discovered all its secrets and smiled at the happy ever after.

I did about one minute. That's a start,
she texted.

See if you can improve on that tomorrow. How's business?

She replied:
I need to come up with a way to celebrate my store's birthday in October.

He replied after a couple of minutes:
Something that not only helps you but helps charity?

Her:
Yes, I was thinking that.

Him:
Weather will be nice and warm then, what about something in the park? At night even. You could set up a stall for your candles, and get other businesses to sell some of their stuff too. A percentage of proceeds go to charity. And have a competition. Every purchase goes in the draw.

Excitement bubbled up inside April's mind.
Shall I employ you as my business coach as well as my meditation mentor?

Him:
Happy to help.

Her:
Thank you, that's actually a really good idea.

Him:
I have a lot of time on my hands to think up such genius ideas.

She chuckled. Then opened her ideas file and jotted down some notes. She could ask some of the local business owners if they'd be interested, see what they thought. Olivia and Mrs May's would be in on it. Maybe Café Lagoon could set up a portable coffee stand. And some of the crafty people from the monthly markets might also take part. That way it wasn't all about her and her store, it was about the community. Creating a fun event that people would remember. She could also give discount vouchers or special offer vouchers to people who bought her products on the night, to be used in store at a later date and encourage repeat business.

‘What's got you looking so excited? Another lovey dovey poem from Zaccy?' Belinda asked as she walked back in, tucking an over-hairsprayed clump of hair from her cheek to behind her ear.

‘No, business stuff!'

‘Wow, really?'

‘Yep. Can you watch things for a little while? I want to go talk to some of the other store owners about an idea.'

April walked around to some of the other terrace shops she thought might be interested. They were. Then she visited Olivia who gave her some more ideas for the night, and said she would help out. Then she went into the ladies boutique in a small arcade behind the brasserie, and almost walked out again. A song was playing, and she didn't know why but it did something to her. As she talked to the store owner, she tried to concentrate on her now perfectly practiced script, but the words from the song kept weaving their way into her consciousness. ‘What is this song?' she asked.

‘
All of Me
,' the woman said. ‘Beautiful isn't it? My cousin had it at her wedding.'

That was why. It was one of those that-would-be-perfect-at-my-wedding songs. They always made people emotional.

When she walked out of the store, her breaths came faster. Was she having a panic attack or something? Maybe she was dehydrated having walked halfway around town. She should rest. She grabbed a coffee from Café Lagoon and sat on a picnic table in Miracle Park. The same one she'd sat at the day she'd been stood up. She scanned her surroundings and imagined the community event and how it might look. She could use her battery-operated candles on the night to create a glowing atmosphere without causing a safety issue. Maybe she could line the walking and bike track with them, creating a Hansel and Gretel trail towards her store's stall.

The song lyrics suddenly interrupted her thoughts.

Go away,
she muttered to herself.

She used to love music, and singing along to songs, and hadn't experienced that sense of connection to a song in a long time. She barely even knew the lyrics to this, but snippets of words crept into her mind. And heart. Something about loving someone for who they were. She would have loved Kyle for who he was, who the accident caused him to be. Somehow. If he'd let her. She missed his smile, his voice, his support. But now
he
needed support, and his parents and carers were providing it instead of her.

A thin film of tears spread across her eyes and she dabbed at the inside corners of her eyes.

No tears.

And no music.

That's all it was. And that's why she didn't listen. Songs only triggered deeply buried emotions and made things more difficult.

Damn memories.

She would just keep focused on her business birthday plans, doing her daily meditation, and reminding herself she was only ever going to be friends with Zac.

* * *

By the end of May she had finished reading
The Prophet
. It was a Monday afternoon and she was off work, and had been relaxing on the couch with her legs up.

No time like the present,
she thought, getting up and heading towards Zac's house.

She knocked on his front door and waited. She could have called him, but liked to be spontaneous. She had planned to greet him by reciting one of the pieces of wisdom in the book, but the door remained closed.

She peered through the gap in the curtains at the dim interior. Angling her ear towards the window, the faint sound of water trickled, like he was in the shower.

Oh well. She could come back later. Or …

She dashed back home and got a piece of paper and pen, then came back to his front door. The water sound was still present. She nibbled her bottom lip as she thought, then wrote on the paper:

She placed it inside the book and on his doormat, then went back home and sent a text:

Surprise on your doorstep. Open it at own risk.

She giggled to herself then flopped on the couch again and scrolled through Facebook. As she ignored a video-gone-viral of some amazing thirteen-year-old singer, the words to that song she'd heard in the clothing store invaded her mind again.

This time it didn't trigger sadness about Kyle. Not as much as before anyway. This time there was something else. Intrigue. Hope. She needed to hear the lyrics, the song, just once, and then maybe she could get it out of her head and move on.

She took a deep breath and searched for
All of Me
by John Legend on iTunes. She only used the account for her store's music. This would be a first.

Her finger tentatively hovered over the preview button, then as she pressed it she closed her eyes. A sneak peek of the song played and she panicked. She pressed pause.

Okay, okay, it's just one song. I can do this. How can I encourage Zac to get out in the world again if I can't listen to a simple song?

But instead of resuming the preview she clicked ‘buy'.

When the song had downloaded she allowed the music to wash over her, through her, as she closed her eyes and lay on the couch.

As soon as the lyrics started so did the tears. Slowly at first, then in a deluge of overflowing emotion. She leaned over to the drawer under the coffee table and got the box of tissues, dabbing one at her face.

It was too much. She had to press stop.

No, something wouldn't let her. She needed this. Strangely, she needed the pain, the intensity, the cathartic power of the song.

When it had finished, she immediately pressed play again. There was something she couldn't quite grasp the first time, something that made her mind and soul go places that were new. New and intriguing, exhilarating, terrifying, but she wanted it. She wanted it all right now in this moment. The words rang true; some made her think of Kyle, but more so …

It made her think of Zac.

Crazy, weird, amazing, beautiful, damaged Zac.

Oh God, it made her want him. Want to risk it all and accept him the way he was, take a chance. But she had promised herself no. Besides, she'd barely known him long enough to be good friends, let alone more than that. But their conversations had bypassed much of the polite small talk and gone straight to no holds barred, raw, honest interaction.

Why? Why did she have to feel something for someone so wrong?

If the accident hadn't happened she would be married to Kyle and would never have met Zac. None of this would be happening. But it was. And her life was unrecognisable from the one she'd had and the one she'd planned for.

When the singer sang about crying, she cried even more. The chorus came again and she ached for that unconditional love that she thought would be part of her life by now, that complete acceptance and love for another person that you felt no matter what. Yet here she was, judging someone she hardly knew because he had the same addiction her father had. She didn't know if she could ever love unconditionally again. It was too risky. Too dangerous.

She allowed the tears to flow freely, and played the song a third time. By this time the tears were slowing, but her face was aching and her eyes burning. Halfway through the song there was a knock at the door.

‘Oh crap!' She stood, wiping her face fiercely.

She dashed to the bathroom and patted her red face with cold water. Her phone beeped as the song went softer for a second, and when she returned to the living room she looked at the text:

I know you're in there. Are you embarrassed by your pathetic poem?

If she hadn't been crying so much she would have laughed.

She glanced at the door, a shadow behind it. His shadow. She could ignore it or say she'd just got out of the shower and was naked. But the song, him, it made her want to try to be honest, open, vulnerable. She needed to let people in, not just on the surface, but deeply. Inside her heart. Even if for a moment.

She opened the door and turned her face away slightly. ‘Sorry, I …'

‘April, what's wrong?' Zac came in, put something down on the couch, then grasped her arms.

She shook her head and covered her eyes with her hand. ‘I didn't want you to see me like this. I'm so embarrassed.'

‘Hey, your poem was bad, but not
that
bad.'

She managed a weak chuckle.

His gaze went to the phone on the coffee table, the song still playing. ‘You're listening to music?'

She held up her hands in a shrug. ‘See? Can't handle it.'

‘But you took a step forward. That's good.'

‘It's just …' she wiped her eyes, ‘so intense. The feelings, the …'

‘I know, I know.' He slowly slid his arms around her waist, gently pulling her towards his chest. ‘Just be with it. Let it flow.'

His voice was smooth and warm beside her ear, like honey; warm, oozing honey that soothed and sweetened the sour, raw intensity of emotion.

He held her like that for the rest of the song, and she tentatively held the sides of his waist. Though his arms were all the way around her, she couldn't quite bring hers to do the same. But this was enough for now. This was okay. This was … nice.

‘You okay?' He moved his head back slightly to look at her.

‘I will be,' she whispered.

‘Do you want me to go now? Or should I–'

‘Stay,' she blurted, before knowing what she was doing. ‘Stay.'

It was late by the time he'd arrived home. They'd ordered pizza and watched mindless TV, which had opened him up to a whole new world he'd forgotten existed. But it was cool in a way, taking a break from the constant awareness and alertness that occupied his mind. He'd also handed her the book he'd brought over,
Ask and it is Given
, by Esther and Jerry Hicks. One of his favourites. She'd said since it was so big it would take her at least till the end of the year to read. To encourage her, he'd promised that for every two chapters she read he'd reward her with some kind of food or beverage. She agreed.

Two and a half months later she was still not finished the book, but was enjoying regular free food courtesy of Zac's Kitchen. And they seemed to have mastered the platonic friendship thing. Tonight's reward was cinnamon cupcakes, made with honey instead of refined sugar, for dessert.

He piped the frosting on top into swirls, pleased with how skilled he'd become in the kitchen. There was one advantage to being home all the time, you had to learn to provide for yourself and get creative. He sprinkled cinnamon on top and smiled at his accomplishment. He placed them on the dining table near the cinnamon candle, which, although burnt down halfway now, still burned bright in the centre of the table.

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror above the mantle.

She'd be here any second.

* * *

April knew it had to be done. Zac had suggested it ages ago, but she'd never felt ready. Now she was. Finally.

Before she went to Zac's place for dessert, she needed to put the letter in the envelope and seal it. Sealing the past where it belonged, never to be opened again.

Before she could, though, she had to read it one last time.