Seven Days (4 page)

“So this is the club,” Rhys said with admiration.

“Yep. It sure is,” Cera said quietly.

She had brought him to a small brick building in Chestnut
Hill with an inside that was the color of burnished wood. Gold and russet
finishings highlighted the room, which was more long than wide, yet somehow not
narrow. Small cocktail tables were arranged throughout the room, all facing a
small raised stage whose main occupant was a gleaming black baby grand piano.
It was intimate, but not crowded, atmospheric, but not pretentious. It was Cera
all over.

“It’s great. It really is.”

“Thank you” she said.

Cera’s whole body felt like it was smiling. She was so
happy. She had finally made her dream come true and she couldn’t quite believe
it. She was actually standing here in her very own club.  Even the few
customers seated in various tables and booths didn’t seem to convince her that
she had really done it.

She had been working so hard on getting the place
together that it was hard to believe that things had really worked out. 
Now standing unobtrusively in the shadows, she watched Rhys take in the place.

Rhys was the first of her friends that she had told about
the club. In her own neurotic way, Cera hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about
opening her own piano bar until she had actually done it. She feared jinxing
it, though she wasn’t remotely superstitious.  She had put all of herself
into this place and it was a big risk. If it didn’t work out she would lose her
entire inheritance, and then she’d have nothing.

Watching Rhys take in the place, Cera realized how glad
she was that he had come back home. If anyone could appreciate this club, it
was Rhys. She knew exactly when he saw the centerpiece of the whole place. He
walked over and smoothed his hand against the black wood of the piano, which
stood alone and silent on the stage. He ran his fingers lightly over the ivory
keys, caressing them so they wouldn’t make a sound.

Rhys caught Cera’s eye with a toothy grin and a gleam in
his eyes and silently asked permission to play. She inclined her head, watching
him slide onto the bench to test out the instrument.

Cera had always enjoyed watching Rhys play. He was like a
different person—totally free of whatever responsibilities and obligations
tugged at him. He seemed to physically lighten as if he were floating above
himself. A peaceful smile settled on his face while he was playing and she knew
he was lost in the moment.

Music filled the room and echoed off the walls. Some of
the customers paused in their intense conversations to listen to Rhys, while
others kept eating without seeming to notice. At the moment, she did not care
what her customers were experiencing. Rhys had come to life in front of her
eyes and that was something she would not miss.

Rhys finished his warm up with a flourish and was
surprised to hear a smattering of applause. He looked around and remembered
that there were other people in the room besides Cera. He was a little
embarrassed and smiled sheepishly at his audience.

Cera slid onto the bench next to him, put her arm around
his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. “You were great. I’m always amazed
by how good you are.”

“You better stop it. You’re giving me a big head.”

Rhys truly was a little self-conscious, but he had to
admit he had enjoyed himself. It had been a long time since he’d played. Living
in New York, he didn’t have access to a piano and he missed playing.

“Impossible,” she said. “Go on. Play something else.”

Rhys moved his fingers across the keys and filled the room
with music once again. He played an upbeat, modern tune and Cera started to hum
along until one of the customers came onstage and requested a song. Caught up
in the moment, Rhys and Cera looked at each other as the woman returned to her
seat and Cera broke out into giggles.

“I am so happy right now.”

She didn’t need to tell him, he saw it all over her. She
leaned toward him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, “Thank you.  You were
the magic that I needed to make this place work. My piano bar is now complete
with requests!”

Cera reached behind the curtain at the side of the stage
and pulled out the microphone stand, which was hidden there.

“Ready?”

Rhys nodded and started to play. Cera came in right on
cue. Her rich voice melded nicely with the tones of the piano. She was watching
him closely, looking for cues as to what he was going to do next and he decided
to let himself stretch; he knew she could keep up with him.

It had been a long time since they had goofed around like
this. He worried for a moment that they’d make fools of themselves. Somehow,
that didn’t happen. They were right in sync with each other and managed to
finish their impromptu performance with panache.

Rhys looked around the applauding audience and saw
smiling faces looking at them with admiration and acceptance. The mood in the
club was electric. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in the fact that
these strangers had judged him and found him worthy based on what they had seen
of him—not on what they had expected of him. He felt at home sitting on that
piano bench, doing what he loved best as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

He took Cera’s hand and kissed the back of her palm. She
was the true magic. He hadn’t felt this good in a long time and it was because
of Cera. She was the reason that he finally felt like he had come home.

They stayed at Cera’s Place until closing, continuing to
sing off and on throughout the evening and occasionally surrendering the mic to
other talented folks in the room. The sweetest music of the night, however, was
what Cera heard standing by the door as people left: the repeated refrain of
how much the evening had been enjoyed and promises to return with friends.

When the last customer was gone, Cera turned the lock and
leaned her back against the door. Rhys was still sitting at the piano playing
random chords as if composing a new piece.

“I’ve been holding my breath for what seems like months,”
Cera said, “but now I think I can finally breathe!” She whirled around in a
circle and then ran across the room and bounded onto the stage.

“I’d say that’s probably a good idea. Cera’s Place is a
success!” Rhys emphasized his point with an appropriate flourish of triumphant
trills. “Congratulations.”

She was quiet for a few moments taking in the moment.
“Come on. Let’s go before I wake up from this dream.”

It was late when they got to Cera’s home, so she
suggested that he stay over rather than call a cab.

“You know what I’m in the mood for?”

Rhys had no idea. He waited for her to answer the
question rather than guess.

“Hot chocolate,” she said with a devilish grin on her
face. “Would you mind making us some while I change?”

“Sure, no problem,” Rhys said, but she was already out
the door. He fumbled his way around her kitchen until he found what he needed.
It had been a while since he’d been a regular visitor and knew where everything
was. He made two steaming cups of cocoa and brought them into the living room.

Cera came out of her room bundled up in cotton jammies.
She handed him an old tee shirt and a blanket.

“This might be more comfortable to sleep in,” she said,
“and this is the softest blanket I own.”

He recognized the gray shirt immediately, the big blue V
recognizable to any Villanova alumnus. She had given it to him freshman year
and he’d worn it all through college. And after.

Rhys cleared the sudden lump in his throat, “Yeah, this
will be great.”

She turned away as he swapped shirts. He draped the
blanket around his body and sat on the floor with his back against the sofa.
Cera, wrapped up in a blanket of her own, sat in the armchair facing Rhys and
sipped her cocoa.

As late as it was, he wasn’t tired and didn’t think she
was either. They started talking like the old friends they were and spent most of
the night touching on everything from Cera’s fears about the club to what color
nail polish she preferred.

Things took a serious turn when Cera asked him about his
life in New York. Maybe, if he hadn’t been half-asleep by that time, he
wouldn’t have shared what he’d promised himself he would keep secret.

“You want to know something?” he started, “I really hate
New York.”

“Oh come on!” Cera wasn’t buying it.

“No, I mean it,” Rhys said seriously and Cera narrowed
her eyes at him.  “New York is for a different kind of person than who I
am. I just could never get into the whole mentality—that whole ‘I’m so cool’
thing. It was all so fake,” he paused, “I didn’t like it. I don’t like it.”

“Wow, I figured you had would have fit right in. There’s
so much opportunity for a guy with your talent to really find his place,” she
stopped to sip her cocoa and, Rhys thought, to digest what he’d just shared.
“Did you get to play at all when you were there? I know you went to be Joe
Businessman but it’s also a haven for artists.”

“No, which is weird. I felt really cut off from the one
thing that I really enjoyed. I was so busy all the time too. Work took a lot of
my time and I didn’t have too much time to experience the softer side of the
city I guess. If there even is one.”

“Did you like your job?”

“Not particularly. Isn’t that crazy? I uprooted my whole
life for what I thought was the change I needed after my parents’ accident and
the only thing I found was just…I don’t know, nothing. I found nothing.”

He felt her eyes on him and wondered if she understood
what he was trying to say.

“Did you meet any interesting people, at least?”

“Oh, yeah. Everyone in New York is interesting. I just
didn’t find anybody that interested me. I went there with all these
expectations and it just was not what I expected. The city is so big and
everybody there has already done this and that. There’s nothing new for them so
there’s no wonder in anything for anybody”

“Well, that’s sad.”

“Yes, it is.”

She was looking at him, not with any real expression,
just with focus that showed him that she was really listening. He wanted her to
truly hear.

“It’s like this. I feel tired when I’m there. New York
just tired me out. I realized that when I came back home. I haven’t felt so
relaxed in such a long time and tonight…” he trailed off, remembering how he
felt at Cera’s Place. “I haven’t felt like me until tonight at your club.”

He’d carried this knowledge inside for some time, not
having ever dared to speak it. The relief that saying the words brought! He looked
down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. He flexed his fingers
and remembered the feel of the piano’s keys as he’d pressed them, as he had
made music. That was what his hands were meant to do.

“That’s nice to hear,” she said, and he let his hands
drop onto his lap. “What will you do when you go back after the wedding?”

His brown eyes snapped to hers, “I’m not going back.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I actually quit my job last week. I’m coming home
to stay. I just hadn’t told anyone yet.”

“Hmm,” Cera took a deep breath and adjusted her blanket,
pulling it tight around her, “the two of us and our secrets. When are you going
to tell them?”

If anyone had the right to judge or question his news it
was Cera, but she didn’t. As always, she fielded whatever as thrown at her.

“Soon. I just have to get them used to the idea of having
me back around. Everybody’s so into who they think I am, I haven’t had a chance
to tell them that that’s not me,” he paused. “You know, when I went to New York
I felt like I had to go, but I also felt like that was what was expected of me.
Like I was supposed to go off and make something of myself. Become some big
businessman or something. Make lots of money so I could protect the family.”

“And didn’t you?”

“I did. But I didn’t really enjoy it. I mean, is that
what my life’s supposed to be? Me doing a job I hate with people I can’t stand
in a city I don’t like? That’s enough to drive anyone crazy.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell
anyone?  I don’t think anyone had any idea.”

“I don’t know. I guess I just figured people wouldn’t get
it. I mean from the outside looking in, things look great. You know what I
mean? But after a while things get real old real quick. I guess I was homesick
or something.”

He saw her surprise at that admission and knew everyone
who knew him would react the same. He’d been lonely in New York and missed his
friends and family more than he’d expected. No one had any idea. They all
thought he was having the time of his life—hell, he expected to be having the
time of his life! Funny how things had turned out.

“Here we were all thinking that you were actually doing
something with your life while we were sitting around at home spinning our
wheels.”

“Believe me, I was spinning my wheels, too, but no more.
I’m taking back control of my life. Starting here and starting now.”

Milan was dozing off. She was lying on her side with her
head on Julian’s lap. After dinner they had both fallen into quietness on the
sofa in the living room. In the back of her mind she was aware of Julian’s hand
in her hair absently curling it between his fingers.

When they were together like this, things were great, but
too often there was tension between them. That same tension had been exciting
when they had first started going out, but now it always seemed to drag them
down and leave them tired and remote. They were like a broken porcelain dish
whose pieces had been glued back together, but was forever marred by the line
that told of the earlier break.

Despite last night’s debacle at the bar, Milan was
surprised at how easily Luke had managed to make her feel at ease. It was a
refreshing change to the way things had been lately with Julian. She had chalked
it up to the stress of planning the wedding, but when you looked at it, she was
the one who was really doing all of the planning. Julian had it easy—show up
for the fitting and plan the honeymoon.

What was she going to do about Luke? Luke was attracted to
her in a major way. Who knew how long he had been pining away for her? The
James brothers were quite charming. Funny how she had never given Luke any
thought before last night. Rhys was always the one who had caught her eye, but
for some reason he never seemed to see her.

She remembered when she first met Rhys. She and Julian
had only been dating for a little while at the time. Julian worked out at the
gym regularly then and he had brought her along as a guest. She remembered what
dorks all those serious gym goers were strutting around in their spandex.

Julian had just explained how to use one of the machines
and she was propped up in this contraption with pulleys and weights all around
her. She had no idea what she was doing, but she didn’t want Julian to know
that at all.  When he asked her if she would be alright for a few minutes
while he ran to the men’s room, she put a nonchalant “no problem” look on her
face and brushed him off with a, “take your time.”

As soon as he was out of sight she disentangled herself
from the machine and tried to figure out how to decrease the weight.

“Much better,” she whispered and tried to settle back
into the machine, but she couldn’t remember out how to place her arms. She
tried this way and that but none of them seemed quite right. Feeling like an
idiot, she surreptitiously looked around to make sure no one was watching her
make a fool of herself.

“This is ridiculous. He just showed me how to do this,”
she said, frustrated. Faking confidence, she jammed her arms in and just
started to push. If she looked like she knew what she was doing, no one would
even notice.

Milan looked up—and into the dark eyes of a very
attractive man in the machine opposite her. He had a slight smile on his lips,
one that he looked as if he was trying to suppress. His eyes sparkled, despite
their deep brown hue.

She immediately went into demure mode and quickly looked
away. She had to admit, not everyone in this gym was a dork. She looked back at
him, ready to respond to the kindness she had seen in his face, and realized
that he was on the exact same machine as she except he was positioned
differently.

She panicked. Embarrassment that she was doing this
completely wrong flooded through her body. All she wanted was to get out of
there as quickly as possible. She surveyed the room in search of a quick exit.
Where was Julian? She had never felt more alone.

Milan started to move her arms very slowly off the pads
as if by doing so no one would see her. She was so focused on her slow-motion
exit from the machine that she didn’t notice her new workout buddy approach.

“That’s a tricky machine,” he said. “I had a hard time
figuring it out myself.”

Unable to look up due to the sheer weight of her
mortification, Milan mumbled, “Yeah, well I heard you could also use it to work
out other muscle groups so I was trying a new form.”

“Oh yeah? Hmm,” he seemed to ponder that piece of news.

Was he buying this?  Milan straightened up a little.
“Yeah,” she said, “It also works on the triceps,” Milan looked up at him to see
he was still smiling—and what a great smile he had. “But,” she stumbled over
her words, “You could show me how you use it…?”

“Sure, if you’d like,” he said. He leaned forward to
position her in the apparatus and then pantomimed how to push the levers with
her arms.

“This works, too,” Milan said, trying to sound
knowledgeable.  “Thank you. I’ll see how this works.” She smiled at him as
if to say, “thank you and good-bye.”

He picked up on her silent cues. He nodded his head at her,
slung his towel over his shoulder and melded into the mix of men in the room.

As soon as he was gone she leapt off the machine and went
in search of Julian. She didn’t have to go far. He was standing talking to some
guy whose back was to her. When he saw her approaching he motioned
enthusiastically for her to come over.

“Guess who’s here?” he asked, holding out his arm to her,
“I want you to meet my best friend since forever.”  A tall man with an
athlete’s body, chiseled features and a gorgeous smile turned to face her.
“Milan, this is Rhys, the friend I’ve told you about.”

Milan hardly heard a word Julian said. She was too busy
being horrified. Julian’s friend was none other than her friendly helper.

“Oh, hi again,” Rhys greeted her cheerfully and held out
his hand.

“You two have already met?” Julian subtly pulled her
closer.

“Sort of. Milan was showing me how to work my triceps.”

He charmed her with that smile and she couldn’t help but
smile back.

“Yes, I was. But don’t overdo it. You’ll regret it the
next day.”

Rhys’s dimples made an appearance as he chuckled at
Milan’s warning. “I wish I could hang around and get to know you better, but
unfortunately I was on my way out. I’ve got to get going.  Milan, it was
very nice to meet you. I’m sure I will see you again.”

“Same here. Thanks for your help.”

Rhys patted Julian on the shoulder, “Jules, I’ll catch up
with you soon.”

Milan couldn’t believe how long ago that day had been.
She had thought Julian was so handsome, but after meeting Rhys she finally knew
what gorgeous was. How different things might have been if she had gone to that
gym as someone else’s guest.

Milan closed her eyes and allowed herself to fantasize
just a little about how different her life might be right now if she had been
with Rhys rather than Julian. She might even have gone off to New York with
him. How funny, Julian would be the best man this time around and she wouldn’t
be feeling this anxiety about him as they approached the wedding date.

And Carolyn and I would be sisters! With Carolyn around,
she’d never have any time at all with Rhys. Maybe things wouldn’t be so
different after all.

Sitting on the sofa with Milan’s head in his lap, Julian was
restless. He really had wanted to make things right with Milan and it seemed
that they were on their way to being back to normal, but something Milan had
said earlier in the evening had stuck with him.

She had asked him if he was having second thoughts. He had
said he wasn’t, but now he wondered if maybe she was right. He was marrying one
of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Shouldn’t he be more enthusiastic?
She was ambitious and independent. They went well together. At least that’s
what people always said about them. But did they really?

On the surface, they were well matched he had to admit. It
was when you went deeper that you noticed how the puzzle pieces were forced
together. When it came right down to it, they didn’t have too much in common.
He was laid-back and she was high-maintenance. She was what he always thought a
woman should be and what he always thought he was supposed to want. After last
night, it was becoming clear to him that maybe he wanted something else.
Someone else.

Julian shook his head. No, this is nerves, he thought. He
was in love with Milan. He was going to marry her. Soon. They were going to be
very…well-matched.

He had to stand up; his leg had fallen asleep and the
tingling was getting to him. Slowly he maneuvered Milan’s head onto a throw
pillow and eased himself out from underneath her.  He bent from the waist
to stretch out his leg and reveled in the relief that came along with the
extension.

He had been restless all evening but especially now after
sitting there for so long. The stretch felt good. Just like after a run. That
was what he could use now. A nice long run would get rid of this restlessness.
He looked out the balcony doors and saw how dark it was. It was after ten
o’clock, too late to go running.

Quietly stepping onto the balcony, Julian inhaled the crisp
air. It was a beautiful night. The stars were out and the moon was just a
sliver. It was the perfect temperature for running. Julian turned around and
look through the glass at Milan’s sleeping figure. Why not? Milan was asleep.
What else was he going to do? His stuff was in his car and if he wore himself
out, he rationalized, he’d be able to go right to bed.

Julian reentered the apartment and wrote a quick note on the
brown paper bag that had held their dinner. He quietly picked up his keys and
headed out the door making sure not to let it bang when he closed it. His
efforts were in vain. Milan awoke just in time to see the door close behind
him.

* * *

Julian laced up his sneakers while sitting in the backseat of
his car. He had changed quickly in its shadow amusing himself with thoughts,
should he get caught, of explaining to his friends why he was nearly naked when
the police had arrived.

His cell phone was on the seat next to him. Like the glimmer
of a firefly, the thought of calling Carolyn flashed through his mind. They had
never gone running at night. It was such a great night; Julian couldn’t think
of anyone else he would rather have accompany him on this adventure.

It’s late, he thought, and dismissed the idea while tying
his shoelace. But it was only a little after ten, he rationalized. If she says
no, then she says no. Not a big deal. He picked the phone up, but still his
thumb hesitated over the speed-dial button.

Home alone, tucked into the loveseat in the living room,
flipping channels on the television. This was Carolyn’s Sunday night. It was
unexciting at best but mostly frustrating, given how restless she was. Luke was
putting in extra hours at the studio, Rhys had gone off somewhere with Cera and
Mark was winging it to the Far East. It was up to Carolyn to find something to
do.

Palming the remote, she took one more tour through the
channels. Still unimpressed, she checked the time. Quarter past ten. May as
well go to bed. Carolyn clicked off the television and started to straighten
the room before going upstairs.

Her phone rang and it was the most exciting thing to happen
all night. She raced across the room to grab it before voicemail kicked in and
caught the name on the display as she flipped it open.

“Hey, Jules,” she said and grinned.

* * *

Since it was dark, they decided to run along the Schuylkill
River on the trail by the art museum—less chance of getting hit by a car. They
stretched side by side feeling like kids who were sneaking off to do something
they shouldn’t.

“Look at us both grinning like idiots,” she said.

“I know. I feel like we’re doing something risky in a way.”

“Me too,” Carolyn agreed.

“It’s silly. We’re just running, right?”

“Yeah, just running. At least one of us is!” Carolyn took
off in a sprint leaving Julian standing on the path. Seconds later he broke
into a run.

“Hey there, Speedy Gonzales,” he said as he caught up with
her. “What’s your hurry?”

“No hurry,” Carolyn was still smiling. “I just have so much
energy tonight. I have to burn it off.”

“Me too. It’s weird. I was so restless tonight; I actually
left Milan sleeping on the couch.”

“You did?” Carolyn was genuinely surprised. “She’s not going
to like that.”

“I left her a note. She’ll know that I went out.”

“So you didn’t tell her you went running with me?”

“No,” he said. “When I left I wasn’t going running with
you.  I didn’t think about calling you until after I got to my car.”

“Are you going to tell her that we’ve added nighttime
jogging to our exercise routine?”

Julian considered her question for a moment, “I hadn’t given
it much thought. She doesn’t even care that I run. It’s not her thing really.”

The two jogged in silence for a few minutes and found their stride.
“Do you think she’ll be mad that I went out?” Julian asked.

His question sounded too nonchalant to Carolyn’s ears. How
to answer this?

“Well, I don’t know that ‘mad’ is the word,” she hedged,
“but I’m pretty sure she won’t be too keen on the idea of your sneaking out to
go running with me—not that you left to hang out with me,” she clarified
hastily, “but that you left her and ended up with me.”

 “What do you mean?”

Carolyn raised her eyebrows at him as if to ask, ‘are you
blind?’ but Julian was looking ahead and didn’t see her face.

“Let’s say I don’t think she’s my number-one fan.”

“Oh.”

They ran in silence, their feet hitting the asphalt and the
soft rush of wind stirring the water the only sounds.

“So serious all of a sudden,” Carolyn interrupted his
thoughts. “Hey, it’s okay. I can take it.”

“What?  No. Noo, you’re wrong.”

“About Milan? I don’t think so.”