Pink Shades of Words: Walk 2016 Read online

  “What do I owe you?”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t owe me anything.”

  I know he’s referring to the cost of the wine but I can’t help but bristle. He’s wrong regarding the bigger picture. I owe him so much and I always will. In the rawness of my youth, Matt made me feel special, both beautiful and not just smart, but clever. No one since has made me feel as extraordinary.

  “Thank you, Matt. I’m happy to get the next round if they make us wait longer than expected.”

  He doesn’t reply but takes a swig of his beer. He looks toward the front of the theater and I’m wondering if he’s still waiting for someone, but then I realize his gaze moves to his seats and then he looks over where my jacket is still draped over the back of mine. His expression is tense—conflicted, and I can’t imagine why.

  “That’s your seat?” He scrunches up his face.

  “Yeah, I know it sucks. But I bought the ticket late. It was just a twist of fate that I even found out about it.”

  “How’s that?”

  “My damn chiropractor was late, so I was paging through LA Weekly, beating back the urge to snark at the receptionist.”

  He lets out a quiet laugh. “You always were impatient.”

  I give him a pretend smirk. “Hello? What about you Mr. Now or Never?”

  He shrugs with a crooked grin. “Yeah, I can’t deny it, but you used to get a lot louder than I ever would.”

  I roll my eyes and take a sip of wine. “Guilty as charged.”

  “So have you mellowed out?” he asks.

  “About some things, and I’m worse about others. So I guess it’s a wash.”

  He nods as his gaze moves to the front of the theater again. “Hey, I’ve got an extra seat and it’s a hell of a lot better than your crappy seat. You’re welcome to it.”

  “Really?” I ask, overwhelmed by the gesture.

  He shrugs. “Sure.”

  I step back and grab my jacket. “Let’s go.”

  He gently takes my elbow as he steers me down the aisle and I swear I feel something akin to an electrical charge every moment he’s touching me. The feeling makes me wish I were younger, still holding on to the shine of my youth. These days I’m referred to as an attractive woman. I’ve stayed in shape and although there are some fine lines around my eyes, they’re still bright and full of curiosity and a desire to have new experiences. But L.A. is full of men who want the single note of twenty-year-old super-models, not the complex orchestration of a woman who’s lived a rich life.

  I sit down in the seat next to Matt and smooth out the folds of my dress. It feels decadent to be in the second row, center, and with this polished man who projects something I never imagined Matt would. I struggle in my mind to define the feeling and then it hits me. He’s successful and he wears it well. But there’s something else...I sneak sideways glances as he checks his phone. There’s a faint stubble along his jaw and his long fingers comb through his thick mane of hair, giving Matt an edge he didn’t have in his youth.

  Whatever he’s reading is making him tense as his strong jaw takes on a sharper edge. Holy hell. I get it like a jolt of lightning.

  Matt is sexy. His features have hardened, melting away his boyish charm. He’s always been brilliant, but now seeing this confident, commanding man he feels like another person entirely. It’s wrong for me to want him, yet for a moment I think I’d give anything to be in his bed one more time.

  He slips his phone back in his jacket pocket. “Sorry about that. We’re in the middle of a tough negotiation. I shouldn’t even be here.”

  I arch my brow and tip my head. “Why are you then?”

  There’s a long pause as he looks deep in my eyes. “Bucket list,” he finally says.

  I gaze into his dark eyes. “Me too.”

  We’re halfway through our drinks when he turns to me. “So did you ever write like you’d hoped to?”

  “Yes, and I teach as well. I’m a professor at Occidental.”

  He nods, visibly impressed. “What do you write about?”

  I pause, wondering how to frame it for him. I realize there’s only one way...with honesty. “I write about redemption.”

  “Hmmm.” He runs his fingers down his throat. “Does that mean you’re an expert on the subject?”

  “I aspire to be.”

  His eyes narrow and he turns to look at the empty stage. My curiosity of the seat I’ve occupied overtakes me as his silence lingers. “So this seat...who was it meant for?”

  He shrugs. “A woman I see when I visit L.A. but she had a last minute business trip come up.”

  “I’m sorry, but her loss is my gain. These seats are amazing. Do you have a connection at this theater?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And you’re not married?”

  “Divorced. And you?”

  “Divorced, twice actually. Maybe one day I’ll get it right.”

  As we nurse our drinks and wait for the concert to start we fall into a surprisingly easy conversation. Matt tells me about his work at NextWave, and the trials of raising a fifteen year-old son.

  “He’s smarter than me, and always testing us,” he laments.

  “He sounds a bit more wild than you were at his age,” I suggest with a grin after hearing about his latest detention.

  Matt rubs his fist against his chin. “I worry about how the divorce affected him. I spend as much time with him as I can—at least every other weekend, and I go to all his tennis matches and debates. He’s state ranked,” he says proudly.

  “You sound like a good dad,” I say with a smile. “I always thought you would be.”

  He lets out a sigh and looks back at the stage. “What about you?”

  His question reminds me how we used to lie in bed and imagine our future family like it was a sure thing. My gaze drops down as I blink back tears, and I take a big gulp of wine, finishing it off. “I guess it wasn’t in the cards for me.”

  He looks over at me with a sympathetic gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too,” I whisper.

  “Hey, you’re out of wine. Let me get you another.”

  I shake my head. “I’ll get tipsy. I’ve already had two.”

  He gives me a crooked smile. “Maybe you need to cut loose tonight?”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “Only if you have another beer.”

  “Deal.” He’s halfway up the aisle before I fully realize he was serious.

  Could Matthew Richardson be trying to get me drunk? And to what end?

  Another half glass of wine gone and I better watch myself. Every emotion is starting to feel more raw and vivid. I keep fighting back the urge to push him to say how he really feels seeing me again. But can I bear to hear the answer?

  We can detect commotion behind the curtain and the theater lights dim and then brighten again. I’d been so focused on Matt that I’d almost forgotten why we’re here. As people return down the aisles to take their seat I bite my lip and lean over to Matt. “Do I look like you’d imagine I would?”

  My heart is fluttering as he looks over at me confused. The longer he pauses the more awkward I feel. Finally he speaks up.

  “Well ... I didn’t ...”

  I cut him off, the flush of embarrassment working its way up my neck. “No of course you didn’t wonder about that ... about me.” I give him a forced smile. “I was just kidding.”

  And thankfully timing is on my side. The house lights dim and a haunting melody begins as the curtains slowly start to part. When Alec steps onto the stage and the entire audience rises and cheers, I’m overcome. It’s a thrill to realize that I’m here finally seeing this musician who’s given me more pleasure and inspiration through his music than can be quantified. I glance over at Matt and see that he’s grinning, his eyes wide with wonder.

  We eventually settle back down in our seats, not wanting each song to end, and when it does, sitting on the edges of our seats to hear what’s next. I keep sipping w
ine, embracing the smooth sensation of how it’s slowly loosening me up.

  I have tears during some songs. I softly sway in others. But nothing prepares me to hear the song I’d erased from my memory ... Broken. The song always seemed to me to be a letter to his first love who left him for someone else, and broke his heart. He sings it with so much emotion, such vivid heartbreak that my regret moves through me like a buzzsaw shredding any feeling of reconnection that I’d made with Matt tonight. Next to me, but now far away, I sense Matt closing into himself as his shoulders curl forward and his head tips down.

  I lean into him, pressing my lips to his ear. “Restroom,” I say, then quickly turn as he nods so he doesn’t see my tears. I rush up the aisle without looking back.

  Once in the elaborately tiled bathroom I splash water on my face over and over willing my tears to stop. I had a brief reprieve for the first part of this evening, but now my regret has its spindly fingers wrapped around my neck and it’s choking me.

  I finally calm down enough to pat my face dry and I step back out into the hall and settle on a bench that faces the balcony. After battling my inner turmoil, I finally accept that it would be best for me to leave, but I can’t leave Matt hanging.

  I suddenly feel the cushion sink down to my left. I can sense it’s him without even looking over.

  I feel his fingers hook under my chin and turn me until I’m facing him. “You’ve been crying. Are you leaving or something?”

  I nod.

  “It was that song, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah.”

  We sit silently for a minute and I gather my thoughts before I turn toward him. “Can I tell you something before I leave?”

  “Sure.” His eyes look wary but I know he’s brave.

  “My bucket list isn’t the only reason I came tonight, Matt. I came to make peace with our past. Honestly, knowing that you were living up North, I never dreamed you’d be here but I’m so glad you came.”

  “I am too,” he replies with a solemn expression.

  “And considering everything you’ve been very kind to me tonight, showing more grace than I could’ve hoped for.”

  “A lot of years have passed, and with time comes perspective,” he says like he’s been tested by this idea by more than just me.

  “True but regardless, what I did to you is the biggest regret of my life ... honestly, the only regret that I would go back and change if I could.”

  He takes a sharp breath, but remains silent, his gaze focused forward.

  “We had something so special. You were my one true love and I was too young and stupid to understand what that meant. I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you.”

  He looks over at me stunned, and I nod to reaffirm my words.

  “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. Frankly I don’t deserve that, but I want you to know the depth of my regret and that I’ve always wished for you all the good things you deserve.” I let out a deep breath of relief. My confession makes me feel like a heavy cloak has been pulled off my shoulders. I may be left naked in my honesty, but for the first time in years I feel clean.

  I take the tissue I’ve been dabbing my cheeks with and I tuck it and the cell phone back in my purse, then start to put my jacket on.

  “Angie?” he says quietly. “Please don’t go.”

  “But ...”

  He shakes his head firmly. “Look I came all this way because I had a strong feeling I would see you tonight. I came to make peace with our past too, but I’ll feel cheated if you leave now when we’ve finally been honest with each other.”

  “You don’t still hate me?”

  “Look, I’m not going to lie. There was a hole blown through my heart that night, and no one else could ever fill it as much as I wanted them to. But believe me I’m not perfect and I know now if you don’t take care of relationships they’ll fall apart. I’m here to heal and I can’t do it if you walk out that door now.”

  I lean forward and press my hands against my face. “I’m overwhelmed ... I have so many feelings.”

  “You always did,” he teases.

  I lower my hands and blink at him. “So if I stay, what then? What do we do?”

  He shrugs and then gives me a small smile. “We go back in and see if Alec sings our song.”

  “And I just act like everything is fine, like I wasn’t just sobbing in the bathroom?”

  “Remember that game we used to play? Let’s Pretend?”

  My eyes grow wide. “How could I forget that? So what, we’ll pretend we’re still friends?”

  He folds his arms over his chest and looks toward the elaborate light fixture. He’s bathed in a golden light and he slowly smiles as he turns back toward me. “Why don’t we pretend we’re still in love?”

  I lean back in shock. “Are you serious? Wait, you’re joking right?”

  He sits up taller and squares his shoulders back. “I’m completely serious. This is one night, and we’re at this concert finally fulfilling a dream we had years ago. We may never see each other again, so let’s make this night count.”

  “One night...” I whisper.

  He reaches out and gently squeezes my hand.

  “One amazing night,” he says.

  I smile and nod. “Okay ... let’s pretend.”

  * * *

  Matt doesn’t let go of my hand the whole way back into the theater. When we settle into our seats we naturally lean in toward each other like two magnets reaching for their connection. As I fall into the music, it occurs to me that Alec’s voice is rougher, perhaps worn from the hard years that have preceded his youth. But to me that roughness gives it depth, there’s an honest rawness to the songs now that moves me.

  We’re nearing the end of the scheduled time for the concert and I’m aware that both Matt and I are on edge, almost afraid that he won’t play our song. I try to convince myself that the song being omitted won’t be a bad omen for us, but the honest truth is that I’m convinced it will be. Before each song starts I chant silently to myself, please, please, please and then my hopes crash when it’s another song.

  Finally, there’s a pause where Alec gets up to wipe his brow and down a bottle of water while we wait patiently. When he steps back up to the mike and nods to the band they only have to play three notes for Matt and I to recognize our song, One Love. My inner joy is overwhelming to contain. I have a huge grin on my face as my knees bounce excitedly and just when I think I can’t be happier Matt reaches over and takes hold of my hand and winds his fingers through mine. My heart skips and I squeeze his hand.

  I lean close in and whisper in his ear, “our song!”

  He nods with a grin.

  I focus back on Alec, every molecule in my system focused on being totally present in the moment, taking in and feeling every note and lyric. My joy is pure, my spirit dancing across the stage. And in this moment it feels like for the first time in forever my young heart, encased in this older, sturdy shell of a body, is finally exactly where it should be.

  Near the end of the song Matt lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it, then keeps his warm lips pressed against my skin a few seconds more. I sigh, still feeling the trace of his warmth, after he pulls away. This simple gesture stirs me to my core. I wouldn’t allow myself to dream that he’d touch me so tenderly ever again.

  The final song of the night the entire audience stands and sways to the music. Matt steps behind me and possessively rests his hands on my hips as I rock them side-to-side. I lean back against his chest, like this closeness is the most natural thing in the world. It’s startling how right it all feels.

  When Alec takes his final bow and the theater lights come on it’s our beautiful bubble bursting, our fantasy coming to an abrupt end. I glance up at Matt with what must be a look of panic. I can see the wheels winding in his brilliant mind and I hope he has an idea how we can buy a bit more time of magic before our real lives crash over us.

  He grabs my hand. “Come on!”

  I ke
ep up as he drags me forward, fishing something out of his jacket pocket. When we get to the far edge of the stage he asks the security guard something I can’t hear while showing him what’s in his hand. We’re directed to a side door where he shows the pass again.

  “Where are we going?” I ask.

  “We’re going to meet Alec.”

  I stop suddenly. “What? How?”

  He shrugs trying to hide a mischievous grin. “I know someone.”

  I roll my eyes, fighting back a huge grin. “You always did.”

  We’re led down a dimly lit hall, and then another until the guard asks us to wait outside the door. A moment later he cracks open the door and waves us in.

  There’s an eclectic group of people in the room that I don’t recognize as the band. They’re gathered in an area with a few couches and random chairs, but we’re led to an alcove on the left where Alec is sitting in a chair in front of the mirror, apparently having some make-up removed. He tips his head toward us as the woman attending him steps away.

  “So Joey says you’re Nathan’s friend.”

  I’m star struck and speechless. This can’t be happening.

  Matt steps forward and offers his hand, which Alec shakes. “Yeah, I’m Matt. Nathan and I go way back.”

  Alec grumbles. “Well, can you tell the asshole to call me?”

  Matt chuckles. “Sure. And Alec, this is Angie.”

  Alec sizes me up giving me an enigmatic smile. “Hello beautiful Angie. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

  I press my hand over my heart. “Oh, I did ... so very much.”

  Alec turns to Matt. “Is she your girl?”

  Matt pauses, his gaze locking with mine. “She is tonight.”

  Alec’s eyebrows lift up as he studies us. “Well then.”

  Not caring if I embarrass myself, I’m so thrilled to be in his presence that I step forward and start spilling our story. “When we were young we fell in love while listening to your music. And tonight it’s so extraordinary to see you in concert since this is the first time in almost twenty years since we’ve seen each other.”

  Alec’s eyes widen and he reaches over, hands each of us a bottle of water, and then opens a bottle for himself and takes a drink. “Sorry it isn’t something stronger, but this is a better choice for me. The only reason I’m able to perform again.”