Where Love Finds You (The Unspoken Series) (5 page)

Lydia always loved me. There’s no doubt about it. From that first thumbs up to the last chance she gave me as she stood by the piano, waiting for me to serenade her with our future as husband and wife. Only I played a depressing song. Again.

Gavin stumbled out of his bedroom and found me in the living room, still holding the door knob. 

“What’s going on?” He scratched his head. Eyes still adjusting to the summer light. “Thought I heard you playing something depressing again. Could’ve been a nightmare though.”

“Good morning to you too.”

“Thought I heard Lydia.”

I nodded and closed the door. 

“She really letting you go this time or what?”

“I hope not.”

“Come on, man. You can’t string the girl along forever. You know how lucky you are to have a love like that. And you want to throw it all away for some stupid reasons that make sense to no one but yourself.”

“I don’t want to string her along. Maybe if she finds someone better then I’ll know it wasn’t meant to be.”

“What you’re looking for doesn’t exist, Matt.”

“Then what are you waiting for? You are looking for the same thing.”

“No.” He pointed to my chest. “I’m looking for what you already have.”

“This goes down as a great moment in history.”

“What does?”

“The first time Gavin Kessler was jealous of something I had.”

“Not jealous. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I will have my girl soon.”

“Don’t be so sure of yourself.”

“So what’s your plan for today?”

“Need to run a few errands, give an estimate to someone, then nothing.” I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of orange juice. “What about you?”

He followed and poured a glass for himself. “No plans here.”

“Shocking.”

We downed a glass and poured another. “Was thinking of taking a drive to the beach.”

“A drive to the beach? Why?”

“Who needs a reason to drive to the beach?”

“Long drive for no reason.”

“Want to come?”

“No, thanks.”

“Come on.”

“Nope.” I set my empty pulp-covered glass into the sink. “Hey, I tried
Chances
the other day. It’s pretty nice in there. You’d probably like it.”

“Oh yeah, I have a few friends who have their art in there. I should talk to the owner and see if I can get some of my paintings on the wall. Another guy I know sold some of his work for $3,000 a piece.”

“No question there. I’d definitely ask.”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll head in there now. You wanna come with me?”

I looked at my watch. “I don’t know.”

“Run errands later.” He tapped my watch. “Come with me.”

A few minutes later we were walking down Spruce Street in the 80-degree humid morning. Without Gavin I’d probably had spent most of my twenties alone in my apartment watching too much Jack Black and Adam Sandler.

We rounded the corner onto South 15 Street, walked a little further, and came up to
Chances
on the corner of South 15 and Latimer. I opened the door and Gavin walked in. 

“What a gentleman.” He laughed and scooted in the door.

We walked up to the woman at the register, same as before. 

“Nice to see you again,” she said. “And I see you brought a friend.”

“Hey, actually I was wondering if I could talk to the manager,” Gavin said. “Is he around?”

“Actually, that would be me. What can I help you with?” She piled a mountain of whipped cream on an iced coffee and placed it on the counter. “Kenny, your drink is up.”

A slender man took the coffee, tipped his hat, and said, “Thanks, Dee. Be back tomorrow.”

“Rise and shine. See you then.” She looked back to Gavin. “So, what was it you needed?”

He eyed the photographs on the wall. “Actually, I’m wondering if I could show you some of my art. Maybe sell a few of them here in the coffee shop.”

“Oh, oh. That’s not my area. You will need to talk to the owner about all that.”

“Okay. Thank you,” he said. “Is he here?”

“She”—Dee laughed—”is away for the weekend.” She looked up at the chalkboard menu behind her. “Anything you guys want?”

“Surprise me,” I said. “With something different than last time, too.”

“Wow, Matt.” Gavin leaned onto the counter. “This is quite the unusual happenstance.”

“I’m spreading my wings.”

Dee laughed, so did we. 

“I’ll take an iced white mocha latte with some caramel in there for good measure,” Gavin said.

“Coming right up. Oh, wait.” She pressed a few buttons on the register. “Total is 9.82.” 

I pulled out my wallet.

Gavin pulled out his. “I got it, Matt.”

“You paid for pizza last week. I’ll get this.”

He put his wallet back in his pocket and scanned the walls. He stopped at the same picture that caught my eye last time. I knew he would. Hands in his pockets, he kept walking and stopped at a black-and-white picture of a woman’s silhouette. Violin at her side. 

“I’ve seen this before,” he said.

“Really?” The girl said from behind the counter. “That’s the owner actually. She used to play the violin.”

I took the surprise drink she handed me. “Used to?”

“Yeah. She’s never told me why she stopped. I never asked either.” 

I took a sip of the drink and looked at Gavin, deep in thought. “Where’d you see it before?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Somewhere.” He walked back to us and took his drink. “I had a friend who sold some art in here. Paintings. Do you guys still take that kind of thing? Or just the photography?”

“Anything.” The girl rubbed her wrist where she had a tattoo of a bracelet. “She loves all kinds of art. You can submit music too if you’re into that. You can even play a show here if you want. She’s pretty picky though.”

Gavin thanked her for her time, said he’d be back in a few days to drop some things off and talk to the owner. We walked out together. 

“You should play a show there,” Gavin said to me. “Some nice moody piano. Can’t go wrong there.”

“Love you too, man.”

“She’s a brick and I’m drowning slowly.” Gavin sang the rest of the way home. A smile painted under his eyes the entire time.

I tuned him out. Pictured Lydia’s sun-shiney face on the other end of the phone. The night she finally called me. She waited until Friday. I’m not one for those three day rules. Why wait if you like the person? It’s annoying. 

She waited two days. Not as bad as three, I guess. I didn’t recognize the number on my cell phone and figured I’d probably hear her voice on the other end. When I did, a smile lit my face from that moment until the next time I saw her. They say it takes more muscles to frown than to smile. Could’ve fooled me. Every time I got off the phone with her I had to rub my jaw for three hours.

That’s about how long we talked, too. At least the first night. The second night we talked until four in the morning. I can’t remember what we talked about. She can’t either. All we remember is laughter. And her sweet voice. I still love her voice. Especially when she sings to me. 

All those times we’d sit at the piano. I’d play and she’d sing with me. Somehow we never made it through a song without our lips touching. 

Maybe I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

Gavin opened the door to our apartment building. “What are you thinking about?”

“Guess.”

“If you love her, then marry her. What’s so hard about that?”

We walked up the stairs to our apartment. I unlocked the door and walked inside, Gavin following behind me.

“I don’t know,” I said, flopping my keys on the end table by the door. “We have tons of good memories. I miss her every time we break up, but I wonder if I miss her because there’s no one else. I miss the idea of her. The idea of having a girlfriend. But not her. She deserves for me to miss her.”

“You mean you don’t miss her at all? You just miss having a girlfriend?”

“I guess.” I walked into the dining room and imagined her sitting at my piano the first day Gavin and I moved in. “Sometimes I think I miss her because we’ve been together since we were so young, right after my high school romance came to a crashing halt. There isn’t an important memory in my life from then to now that doesn’t include Lydia.”

“And you’re saying you want to start over with someone new? Find something better?”

“No.” I sat down at the piano. “There is no one better than her. Just different. Someone different. Something new, exciting. You know, Lydia and I have spent our twenties together, growing into adults together. We were off and on for so many years. We had so many down moments. Maybe I want to fall in love with a woman, instead of a girl. Maybe I want to know what it feels like to be with someone else.”

“That’s not really fair to her.”

“I know.” I pressed down on a low A key. “That’s why I need to let her go.” 

The bridge from Philadelphia to New Jersey is so beautiful. Something about it inspires me every time I cross it. Except this time Sarah’s iPod just so happened to play a familiar tune, one that made me sink down into the seat and ignore the gorgeous landscape.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah turned the music down.

I looked out the window, ignoring her question.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Ella. I didn’t realize my iPod was on still.”

Silence carried us to the other side of the bridge. Over the same river I got stuck on the night I lost my dreams. 

“That was weird timing,” she said, looking for my reaction.

My gaze didn’t leave the window.

“How long are you going to let this eat at you?”

“Easy for you to say,” I snapped. “You still have your camera in your hands.”

“I’m sorry.”

I exhaled and looked at her. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to react like that. It’s just that you still take pictures, just like you did when you were a kid. There’s only one thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid and it’s been taken from me, all because of my stupid choices back then. If only I would have—”

“There are no ‘if only’s’ in this life, Ella. You know, you wouldn’t have met this man you are waiting for if it weren’t for your choices back then. That night may have scarred you forever, but it also gave you him . . . something to live for. And you have been living for mysterious Mr. Right for the last few years. You don’t need to zero in on one thing like this to find joy. You can be happy no matter what your circumstances are. You don’t need dreams and fantasies to be in love with life. Just live your life and you will fall in love with everything around you.”

I avoided her gaze.

“I love you. I hope you know that. And loving you means telling you the truth. Trust me, it kills me that you feel that way, but photography isn’t my dream. It never was. Sure, I love it and it’s fun. I love that I get to make a living off of my favorite thing to do and I don’t take that for granted. But it’s not my dream.”

I finally looked into her gentle eyes. She did love me. I knew she said these things out of love. 

“My dream is every day. When I wake up, I want to find something new. Something beautiful about each day I’m given. I want to take the cards I’m given and play them with a smile, not to win, just to play. My hands could be sliced off and I wouldn’t spend my life trying to find a way to snap pictures with my feet. I would pick up the cards I’m given and enjoy the game. That’s my dream. To live today. Tomorrow may never come.”

“Not according to Annie. She thinks the sun will come out tomorrow, clearing away the cobwebs and the sorrow.”

“Annie needed hope. We all need hope. Maybe she was just looking in the wrong place. Hope doesn’t need to come tomorrow, it can come right now. We don’t need perfect circumstances to find hope. Annie didn’t need caring parents to find hope. Hope lived in her, she was just too focused on her surroundings to realize it.”

“You have gotten much more introspective over the last few years.”

“I guess that’s what being single does for a person. Too much time to think.”

“Cheers to that.”

We arrived in Cape May, checked into our bed and breakfast by the beach, and immediately walked out to the shore. Sarah, of course, brought her camera. Honestly, the thing seemed to be permanently attached to her hands. Not so good for me, because I spent more time with her than anyone else. If she didn’t ask me to pose as a subject, well, then she’d ask me to hold up a reflector or a flash or something to help.

I always wanted to be a photographer, but it just didn’t work for me. A few times Sarah let me borrow her back-up camera. I’d meander about the city, take a few pictures here and there, and come back with nothing exciting. Music came natural to me, the other areas of art . . . not nearly as much. 

I guess that’s why it was so difficult for me to see others blossoming in their own creative expressions. I would probably never be able to play the violin again. 

“What are you thinking?” Sarah asked as her camera collected images of the frothy shores.

“Just wonder how different things would be if I didn’t miss that flight.”

“Yeah.” She rolled her finger over the tiny button on her camera. “But if you keep trying to fix the past and plan your future you will never live today.”