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She gave a tight shrug. “We did everything together. We both discovered we liked music. The old hairbrush act. We were nine-year-old stars at that.” She gave a soft laugh. “My mom used to egg us on. She thought we were hilarious. And Missy, she loved coming to my house because, she told me, it was music all the time there.” She glanced up at Ethan again. “Her family wasn’t into music like that. Didn’t really understand why she was so caught up in it all. And then, after my mom died, Missy suggested we form a band, be a kind of power sisters band like my mom wanted. And so we did. We did well, too. Didn’t really care about anything else in high school.” Kate snorted. “Well, not much. I mean Missy had Mark, and was into him, but the music, our band, that’s what came first.”
Kate looked down again. It was the next part that drew her to her beer, lifted it to her mouth, and made her down the remaining half of it in one large gulp. She waited a moment for the alcohol to flood her body, but maybe it was her nerves, her adrenaline already using up so much of it, that she felt nothing. No easing. She pushed on, desperate to finish the story.
“Then, I went to college. I mean I was still living at home, but it was different. I had classes. And Missy, well she had the music and a job for a while. But we weren’t with each other all the time. And I guess, without realizing it, we changed. And she started to resent the time I spent at college. Said I wasn’t dedicated to the band enough. That I didn’t want music. Why was I an English major, she’d ask me.” Kate took another breath, sucked in her bottom lip, sneaking a glance at Ethan. “And I’d made the mistake of telling her about you.”
Ethan raised his brows in surprise. “About me?”
Kate nodded. “I’d seen you play that first week. The showcase.”
“‘Suzanne.’”
She gave a small smile. “Yes, ‘Suzanne.’ As you know, that’s a special song in my family. Well, for my parents. Anyway, I told her about you. How talented you were. And she just shrugged it off. Then I went to your gigs a few times.” The modified truth made her redden. She’d been to every gig of his she could manage. But that was part of the point. She sighed. “Lots of gigs, to be honest. She began to see you as a threat. Started accusing me of wanting to pair up with you, to break up our band.” Kate shuffled a bit. Made herself look up at him. “And the fact is that it wasn’t far off the truth. I loved your music. Your playing.” She didn’t have to explain that it was more than his musical abilities that caught her attention, or the other ways she imagined they might be together. And for that part, she was glad.
Ethan’s eyes were intense, so focused on Kate they nearly hypnotized her. “You wanted to play with me?” he said softly.
She looked away and nodded. “She could sense it. My denials were useless. We just knew each other really well. And nothing I said, or Mark would say, convinced her otherwise. She began to go a little crazy, I think. Looking back on it all. She started hanging around with other people. Drug users. Maybe it gave her what she needed, I don’t know. But it got to a point where she started missing gigs, bailing out on any kind of meetings, or even going out with Mark. And if she did come, she’d be abusive. Sarcastic or just plain mean. Totally unlikeable. I started avoiding her and eventually, so did Mark.”
There was only the end to explain, and then she would be finished. Her hands were clammy, and her heart quickened its pace. “One night, Missy was out with her new friends.” She gavefriendsa sarcastic tone. “I’m not sure what they were on. Acid? I don’t know. I never bothered to find out. But they went up to that rock over the lake. The one Tom took you to the other day. And she jumped off and drowned.
“Now, you could say it was an accident. And that’s what everyone said at the time. But they would be wrong. I know Missy. I knew Missy.” Kate’s voice broke. “She could swim really well. She took those drugs and jumped from the rock, because that was the way she could manage to end her life. Because without the music, everything was dead for her, so why not be dead herself?”
The tears were streaming down her face, and she brushed them away with the heels of her hand, but they continued to fall. She found herself in Ethan’s arms, his hand rubbing her back while he uttered soothing sounds. The two of them stayed that way for a time, her head tucked into his chest, safe, secure. Kate found herself wishing it wouldn’t end.
“Shit, Kate. That’s terrible. And an awful burden for you to carry,” Ethan said in a low voice. She could hear the deep tones vibrate in his chest. He started to stroke her hair. “Especially since it’s not yours to carry.”
She started to pull away, but he held her firmly in place. “It’s impossible to know what goes through a person’s mind, especially if they are confused and under stress, let alone taking drugs. You didn’t put the drugs in her hand. You didn’t lead her to the rock and push her off. Or hold her underwater. Kate, you were both entitled to grow and evolve as you got older. It would have probably happened one way or the other, anyway. Missy might have found something else that replaced the music. Or not. But in any case. It wasn’t right for her to hold you to ransom over your growth and change.”
The words ran through her mind, sinking in slowly, finding a few places to settle where she could turn them over and examine them later. For now, the idea of them and his comfort were what eased, just a little bit, the deeply rooted knot inside her.
She sat wrapped in his embrace, feeling his warmth, his touch, as he stroked her hair. Something shifted and the fingers in her hair became small, gentle kisses that moved to the side of her face, and then her mouth. The kiss deepened, and the feel of him, his mouth, his hands, the press of his body against hers, lit her up. Lifted her. She was floating under his touch, his beautiful graceful hands that moved across her body, stroking, brushing. He was there, entwined, entangled in her thoughts and then her body as she melted away, up into their house of clouds. This was a dream she could store there, she had no doubt about that.
* * *
Early morning light filled the room, casting a glow on Ethan’s face as Kate slowly opened her eyes. His beautiful face, now in repose, was sculpted by the shadows and the bones that framed his face. His strong nose, the mouth, the forehead, his hair just long enough now that it fell across his brow. The urge to capture him, either on paper or in a photograph, was strong. But the lingering lethargy kept her in the bed facing him, transfixed.
He reached out for her, eyes still closed, drawing her closer and whispered low in her ear in a raspy voice. “What’s got your attention so much?”
“You,” Kate said softly.
He chuckled and began to nibble her ear. The nibbles turned into long, sensuous kisses that moved down her jaw and eventually trailed along the length of her, while his hands stroked her body. Soon they were moving as one, tangled and entwined like before. It was their own rhythm, a song, and it was a song that seemed so much a part of them and it was as if there was no other song but them.
And after, as Kate lay there in Ethan’s arms, still transfixed by the echoes of that song, she allowed herself for a moment to play another song in her head. The song of “what ifs.” Almost as soon as it appeared, she shut it down and shifted her weight off of Ethan, propping her head on her hand.
“You play more than instruments well,” she said grinning. “And in just as experienced a manner.”
Ethan frowned a moment, stroking her hair absentmindedly. “I’m not,” he said. “Well, not that experienced.”
She laughed. “Dude, you’re in the music industry.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Dude? Where, oh, where has thebella Italianagone?”
She looked away, suddenly self-conscious. “Gone. If she ever was,” she said in a low voice.
He continued to stroke her hair, studying her. “You don’t think you’ll go back?”
She shook her head, then did a one shoulder shrug. “Yes, no. Maybe.” She glanced at him and forced a smile. “Not for a while, in any case. After this exhibition. I owe Giancarlo for all his help. So I should probably go back for a while. Maybe do one more exhibition for his gallery. Then, we’ll see.”
“But you and Giancarlo?” Ethan asked in a quiet voice.
