Playing for Love at Deep Haven (24 page)

“Oh my God, Vi!
You’re okay!”

“Have you been
trying to get me?” Violet’s phone had run out of juice sometime over the
weekend, and she’d forgotten to recharge it after calling her mother to assure
her that she was okay.

“Uh, you had a
little storm up there. It was all over the news! Of course I was worried!”

“Oh, Soph. I’m
sorry. My phone was . . . Well, I didn’t charge it up,
so . . .”

“You lost
power?”

“For a few days,
yeah. And a couple of trees and a pair of shutters. Otherwise we lucked out.
The power just came back on today.”

“Geez! That’s a
haul. I’m surprised you stayed. Or am I? How’s it going with the jerk?”

“He’s not
a—Jesus, Sophie. That’s not appropriate. You’ve never met him, and he’s changed
a lot. He’s not—”

“Oh. My. God.
You slept with him!”

“What?”

“Violet Smith!
Did you sleep with Nash?”

“
Zach
.”

“Whatever. You
did the deed, didn’t you? You’re all defensive and emotional about him, so you
definitely slept with him. I bet you got trapped with the storm, and he
probably made a fire and ripped your clothes off, ravaging you while the storm
raged outside.”

Violet rolled
her eyes. Sophie tended to apply her worldview to real-life situations that
didn’t call for extra drama. Then again, ripped-off clothes, ravaging, storm
raging: she wasn’t too far off either.

“Just tell me
one thing—was it good?”

Violet grinned.
Good? “No.”

“Oh.” Sophie’s
voice was low with a murmur of disappointment. “Sorry, Vi.”

“
Good
doesn’t scratch the surface. He
blew my mind.”

“I hope you
returned the favor by blowing his—”

“SOPHIE!”

“VIOLET!
You’re
the slut, not me!”

“Shut up.” She
giggled, remembering the maxim from all the teen movies she watched in high
school. She recited, “It’s not slutty if you love the boy.”

“Love? Wait, Vi
. . . You do? You’re sure?”

“It’s like you
said, I had lots of unfinished business. Unfinished because I never stopped
loving him. I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember knowing him. And being
with him again?” She took a deep breath, swallowing the lump in her throat. “We
want to give things a chance between us. See if we can make it work.”

“Wow,
hon
’.” Sophie paused. “Wow, I just . . . I’m happy for you.
Things are moving fast, huh?”

“I guess. If you
consider ‘fast’ falling in love with someone in college and getting together
with him nine years later.”

“That’s one way
of looking at it.”

“How else?”

“You haven’t actually
been around him in years. You sure you
know
him?”

“Yeah. I mean,
some things about him are different. He has an obscene number of tattoos. And
piercings. And shaggy brown hair. I hate some of the music he loves. But he has
the same heart, the same soul. He still writes music that makes my toes curl,
and the way he touches me . . . He’s changed, but he’s also stayed the same.”
She thought about what he said about growing up for her. “I think we can make
room for each other in our lives.”

“And he loves
you.”

“I’m sure of
it.”

“But what about
Shep
? All those years you spent with him? What was that?
Was that love?”

Violet’s heart
dipped when she heard
Shep’s
name, guilt making the
lump in her throat double. And suddenly she wondered if she hadn’t told Zach
that she loved him because she hadn’t totally let go of
Shep
yet. Not that she still loved
Shep
, or ever really
had. She’d wasted
Shep’s
best years still deeply in
love with Zach. But she owed
Shep
something for his
goodness and loyalty to her, and until she paid that debt, maybe she couldn’t
belong to someone else.

“
Shep
was a good man,” said Sophie gently.

Violet agreed.
Shep
was a good man. A good man who’d deserved far better
than her, far better than a woman who was in love with someone else the whole
time.

“Vi, you still
there?”

“I was never in
love with
Shep
,” she said. “And I feel terrible about
it. He could have found someone who really loved him, and instead he wasted all
those years with me.”

“Only
he
knew if it was a waste or not. He
stayed with you.”

“I feel guilty
all the time,” she confessed. “I never told
Shep
I
loved him. Not in all those years. I told him I cared about him. I told him I
needed him. I told him he meant the world to me. But I never told him I loved him
because it would have been a lie. And now I’m here. With Zach. And it
wouldn’t
be a lie, but I still can’t say
the words. I can’t make myself say them, and I know he wants me to, but I . . .”

“Why? Why can’t
you say it? I thought you said—”

“I do. I feel
that for him. And he’s told me so many times now, I’ve lost count,” said
Violet, feeling confused and a little bit miserable. “I think he knows how I
feel. I just haven’t said the words.”

“And you
shouldn’t. Until you’re ready. Those are big words.”

“I only said
them once,” Violet said. “To him, nine years ago. And it didn’t go well. It
scares me. I don’t want to say them again unless I’m ready. Totally ready.”

“You want my
advice, Vi?”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s been a
year. Settle the stuff with
Shep
in your head. Say
good-bye to him. Move on. It sounds like you and Zach have a shot at something.
You certainly held on to one another for long enough. When you’re ready, when
you can’t hold the words inside anymore, take a deep breath, look into his eyes,
and let the words fall out of your mouth. You loved him then. You love him now.
You just need to find the courage to say it. Your own way.”

Say it your own way.

(Then. Now. Still.) You were mine all along.

(Then. Now. Still.) No matter what we do.

(Then. Now. Still.) Now you before me.

(Then. Now. Still.) Then me before you.

The lyrics
started forming in her head, and she picked up a pencil. With “Forged By Fire” finished,
they still needed one more song, and she was pretty sure a good one was about
to come together.

“Sophie, I have
to go. Can I call you in a few days?”

“Oh, Vi. I
didn’t say the wrong thing, did I?”

“No! No
no
no
!
You’re
perfect
.
You’re
exactly right. I need to find the courage to tell him my own way.”

“You back on Friday?”

“Sunday night.
I’m planning to spend a couple of days with my mom next weekend.”

Although she
wasn’t sure of her plans anymore. She didn’t love the idea of letting Zach out
of her sight. She absolutely despised the idea of falling asleep without him
for a single night.

“So call me on
the drive home. And Vi?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m happy for
you. You know. Finding him again. Falling in love again. No more Miss
Havisham
, Mrs. Suburban Sellout. Just be careful, okay?”

She barely heard
the cautionary tone in her friend’s voice, distracted by the song lyrics that
were writing themselves in her mind. “Yeah, uh-huh. Talk soon, Soph.”

She pressed the
end button and picked up the pencil, moving the words around, the melody of the
Jim Croce classic “I’ll Have to Say I Love You in a Song” circling around in her
head as she wrote a love song for Zach.

***

For most of Sunday,
she’d written the lyrics to “Then. Now. Still.” while Zach put the finishing
touches on their first three songs, spending long hours in the basement studio,
before finally finding her on Sunday afternoon, to tell her that he was
finished practicing and ready for her to join him as he cut their official demo.

“Violet?”

He was watching
her from the kitchen door, his shaggy hair loose around his face. But it was
his eyes, dark and gray, that captivated her the most with their softness.
Two or three times after her conversation with Sophie
yesterday, she’d looked at him across the living room, fiddling with his guitar,
marking chords on a piece of paper in front of him. She’d felt the words in her
head,
Hey, Zach.
He’d look up at her,
and she’d just say it:
I love you. I
loved you all along.
But then a panicky feeling would rise up, making her
stomach turn uncomfortably, making her swallow the words before she could say
them.

She felt it now,
her mind and body and heart at war with one another. Her heart insisting it
loved him—desperately, completely, passionately—her body shifting toward him
with need and want, but her mind unable, or unwilling, to force her voice to
speak. As she worked on her song, she felt her courage growing. For nine years
she hadn’t uttered the words “I love you” to anyone. But she would. She wanted
to. Soon.

“Hey,” she said
softly, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. “How’s it going?”

“It’s good. I
think it’s really good.” He ambled over, and she watched the way his legs moved
in his beat-up jeans. She knew what was under those jeans, and it made her
insides leap with anticipation. He pushed her two chairs apart a little bit,
sitting in the one across from her and holding her displaced feet on his lap.
He rubbed them gently with his strong musician’s fingers. “Can you take a
break? Come and listen while I cut the demo?”

“I’d love to.”

“Ah, so you
can
say that word.”

She picked at a
nonexistent piece of lint on the front her sweater. “You know how I feel about
you.”

He bit his
bottom lip and nodded. She heard the longing and uncertainty in his voice when
he answered, “Mostly.”

“I do, Zach.”
She bent her knees and leaned forward, covering his hands with hers. “But I
haven’t said those words for nine years. Not to my mom. Not to
Shep
. Not to anyone. Just let me do things at my own pace,
okay?”

“Sure,” he said,
giving her a forced smile. “I guess I deserve to wait.”

“It’s not like
that. I’m not trying to punish you. I just want it to happen on its own.”

His lips
tightened. “And I just want to feel like the past is totally and completely in
the past, Vile. I want to leave it there and move forward.”

“Isn’t that what
we’re doing?”

He dropped her
feet and leaned back in his chair, his eyes guarded. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You
guess
? We’re leaving here on Friday, and
I’m headed into the city on Monday to be with you, to see what this looks like
in real life. I hope you’re doing more than guessing.”

“I know I’m
asking for a lot, but I couldn’t be more clear with you about how I feel and
what I want, Violet.”

“And I’ve gone
along with it, Zach. All of it. You wanted to get together? We got together.
You wanted to give this a shot? We’re giving it a shot.”

“You know what’s
missing in that whole statement, Vile? What
you
want.”

For God’s sake,
they’d only reconnected a week and a half ago, and yes, it had been amazing and
wonderful and she couldn’t imagine losing him again, but she needed a chance to
take it all in. She wasn’t ready to commit to forever quite yet. Couldn’t he
see that? When she looked up, she saw the worry and uncertainty in his eyes,
and she couldn’t bear it.

“I want
you
,” she said quietly, reaching out to
him.

He leaned
forward and put his hands under her arms, lifting her onto his lap and wrapping
his arms around her. She lay her head on his shoulder, and he kissed her
forehead and stroked her unruly hair.

“Okay.” His
voice was unconvinced.

“I do,” she
murmured into his neck.

“Okay, Vile,” he
said, his voice tender and resigned. “Okay.”

She leaned back
and looked up at him, marveling at finding herself in his arms again, hope
blossoming in her heart that second chances can be the best chances.

“Want to go
record a song?” she asked.

He leaned
forward to kiss her. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Violet didn’t
know what to expect when he told her that they were going to cut a demo of “My
Spot,” “Fall(en) Days,” and “Forged in Fire,” but seeing him behind the
controls of the soundboard, setting up the room for himself, and finally
sitting on a stool with his guitar in front of the microphone, definitely made
her see him in a new light. An additional light. Professional musician Zach,
who knew his way around a recording studio like the back of his hand. And, unexpectedly,
it was a total and complete turn-on. When he was at Yale, he was a fellow
student with ridiculous amounts of talent. Now, as an adult? He was a master of
his craft. And seeing the arc in his life, from promising music student to
wickedly talented professional musician? It made her smile. It made tingles run
up her arm. It made her want him.