Page 75 of Serenade Me

Chapter Twenty-five

Anca

It takes Dennis, Hailey and their team only minutes to come up with an entire strategy for the event. It is fascinating to me to watch them in motion. It’s enlightening to me to watch Hailey act with such poise, with such confidence. Dennis is firm with her, but leads with love and gives her every opportunity to make the decisions. At first, I think it’s because she’s his daughter. But then as we sit there on the plane, drawing up the plans, he never fails to ask for my opinion.

“You’re the one who knows the place well – do you think this will work?” He asks about different aspects of the concert, and I can’t help but get swept up in all the excitement. The ease in which he instills confidence in me is so… unfamiliar to me, I almost get heady at the feeling of inclusion.

The plane lands with a screech of the tires and I don’t even realize that the whole hour flight had flown by. Hailey gives me a wink as she steps off the plane, her phone already glued to her ear. I watch as the rest of the band file out, Seb and Brad drowsy from their naps. Jez stops by my seat, waiting for me to get up.

“Ready, sis?”

I smile up at him, I know he’s trying to ease the tension between us. I just don’t know whether it should be eased or not. Sooner or later, he’s going to have to realize, I’m not the same weak Anca anymore. I’ve grown. And he has to let me grow.

“Ready, Jez. Just let me grab my jacket and I’ll be right out. You go first.”

A frown flickers across his face, and he glances to the back of the plane before sighing and disembarking.

“Marius?” I call out to the back of the plane. He doesn’t answer. “They’ve all gone. It’s just us. We’re meant to meet at the hotel in an hour.” Still silence. “I’m not leaving until you come out.”

“Just go, Anca.”

“You did hear me just say I’m not leaving, right? What part of our interactions in the last few weeks would give you the indication that I’m going to change my mind?” There’s a sigh and a rustle, and his head pokes out from behind the curtain.

He adopts a blank look on his face. “Yes? What?”

“I’m not going to talk to a floating head, Marius, come out.”

“What part of our interactions in the-…” he starts mimicking me. And then stops and steps out from behind the curtain. His hair is ruffled, and he looks tired. And all I want is to hug him. Be near him. Bury my face in his chest. Tell him everything is going to work out just fine.

“Let’s go – I want to show you something.”

“Jez-..”

“Shhh. Come on, everyone’s gone to rest at the hotel. We have some time. I have to tell you something. Please.” I hold my hand out to him, and my heart stops as I wait to see if he’ll take it.

He steps forward and slides his hand into mine. And it’s like there was never a moment it wasn’t there.

***

We take a car from the airport and it takes us along the pristine coast of Nice. The sea lays out in front of us almost like a canvas of blue oil paint. I have to stop myself from the urge to reach out and touch it, as if I can feel the soft ripples like dried bumps of paint under the whorls of my fingertips, instead of the warm, crystal blue waters of the Mediterranean. I press the button on the side of the door and the window opens to let in a soft, salty breeze, toying with the wisps of hair on the nape of my neck.

It’s new. It’s all new.

It’s been over a year since I’ve been back here, and the memories of that time comes rushing back. A time of complete confusion, of darkness. Seeing it now, it’s not like coming back. It’s like arriving somewhere new for the first time.

We sit in silence for the twenty minutes it takes to get to our destination. I gesture to the driver to pull over to the side of the road and Marius gives me a funny look before following me out of the car.

We stand like awkward figurines on the side of the road until the car drives off, leaving us finally alone.

I spin, slowly, first 50, then 90, then 118, then the full 360 degrees.

Taking it all in.

The Côte d’Azur on one side.

The shell of the abandoned church on the other. Grey rubble and errant weeds scattering the ground. We’re more than a mile from the center of town, but you can still hear the sound of cars dodging the tourists, sandals crunching along the pebble beach.

“Where are we?” he asks after I don’t say anything for a few minutes.