After the Rain Page 7

  He gave a few more details regarding the music festival coming up; then it was time for my Miss Lonely Heart shtick. I ignored the knots in my stomach and watched the lines light up. I pushed line three.

  “Tell me your story, Richard,” I said after introductions.

  “Well, I’ve been in a relationship with this girl for a few months. Now, don’t hate me, but I’ve started having feelings for her best friend.”

  The knots could no longer be ignored. I started to clench and unclench my fists.

  “Something happened between us the other night, and now I know that Ju—I mean, her best friend, has feelings for me too. How can I go about this without hurting my current girlfriend? I want a clean break. This other girl and I—I mean, we’ve got to give this a try. I never thought a girl like her would like someone like me. What do I do?”

  “How long have you and your girlfriend been together?” Andy asked.

  “About three months. But it’s not going anywhere. I mean, I don’t see myself with her long-term.”

  “Of course you don’t,” I snapped. “You’re too busy looking at her best friend.”

  Andy’s eyebrows shot up like a spiked radar going off. He coughed.

  “It’s not like that,” Richard insisted. “I didn’t go looking for a connection with her best friend. It just happened.”

  “Ugh. I hate that excuse so much. ‘It just happened.’ Like grown adults have no control over what they do.” I shook back my hair and tried to keep my voice from shaking.

  “Okay,” Andy intervened, obviously attempting to calm things down. “What if you break up with the girlfriend, wait a little while, then start dating the best friend? Maybe give her time to move on too.”

  “I don’t know. Things are heating up with me and the best friend, and I feel like this is our moment.”

  “I guess the question is, do you want to be a cruel, narcissistic jerk? Or do you want to be a human being?” I said, my chair swiveling with my anger. “Your girlfriend has no idea that you—and her best friend—are about to ruin her life because you’re so selfish. You seriously can’t slow things down? Why not? Are you sixteen years old and have zero control over your hormones?”

  “Ouch,” Richard said, and I could hear the building irritation in his voice as well. “Someone’s angry.”

  I couldn’t speak. Andy held his hand out to me, indicating for me to sit back and stop.

  “Dude, that’s probably just a touch of the anger you’re about to get from your girlfriend. If you ever cared about her, which I’m thinking you did, since you’re worried about her reaction, then maybe you should just be up front with her. Let her go before things get more serious and she ends up really hurt.”

  Oh, she’s going to be hurt either way.

  “Yeah,” Richard mumbled. Andy’s easygoing tone seemed to defuse Richard’s defensiveness.

  It didn’t work that way for me.

  The call ended and I stood up. Andy went to break and pushed away his microphone.

  “You okay?”

  I crossed my arms. “I don’t want to do this stupid segment anymore.”

  Someone tapped on the glass. Andy waved them off.

  “You know how popular it is, Deb. We get flooded with calls every day. No one’s going to be on board with cutting something that’s hot right now.”

  He was right and I knew it. I’d gotten myself into a mess.

  “The lines are blowing up. Have you got this or what?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get it over with. One more call.” I sat down with a huff, blowing my hair out of my face. I grabbed my headphones and pushed the button for line one with a vengeance.

  “Miss Lonely Heart here. Tell me your problems and we’ll see what kind of revenge we can dish out today.”

  When the segment finally ended, I took off my headphones, my hands trembling. Andy took us to break and then he did the same.

  “Hey.” He rolled his chair closer to mine. “You’ve got to get a hold of whatever’s going on here.”

  I couldn’t answer. I just gave a brief nod.

  “Deb.” His voice was calm. I managed eye contact. He continued. “I know this isn’t easy for you. You need to take it for what it is at this point. You’re playing a role on the show. And however you feel, you’re great at it.”

  “Thanks,” I said in a small voice.

  He nodded, his eyes still serious. “Keep in mind that this segment is doing things for your career. You’re building an audience. Our listeners like you. I worried when Ellie left that we’d struggle to find someone who connected with our base. You stepped in and it’s been so easy. I know you worked at a smaller station before, but this place will open doors for you. How far you want to take it is up to you. Whatever happened with that jerk who dumped you—shake that off.”

  My heart twinged without warning. He wasn’t a jerk. He was everything. That’s why this hurts so much.

  Andy’s quiet voice spoke to me, low enough that I knew he wanted to keep this conversation between us. “You’ve got a great career here if you want it. And the longer you’re here, the more valuable you are to the network. You’ll be able to negotiate for a larger salary eventually. You could buy a house, travel, whatever you want. We’ll be at festivals in Nashville next year, doing some great interviews. If everything goes as it should, you’ll be with me at the iHeartRadio awards next year too. You’re going to make so many contacts.”

  He pushed his chair back to his microphone as time wound down on the break. I slid my headphones back on and shot Andy a grateful look. He gave me a thumbs-up and moved us into an advertising stint. I couldn’t verbalize how much it meant to me to have someone rooting for me, but I think he knew. This job was about all I had left going for me. I needed to make it work.

  My phone buzzed, and once I reached the stoplight near my apartment, I checked it.

  WANT TO DO COFFEE?

  Ben. He’d insisted we trade numbers after our tell-all on the mountain Sunday afternoon. I still didn’t know how I felt about the confession session (as I’d grown to call it in my head). But the truth was, I’d never been a secretive person. I didn’t want to rehash my sob story every moment, but I didn’t want to pretend it never happened.

  Well, most days I wished I could pretend, but it was so encompassing that pretending wasn’t possible, not when just functioning took so much effort.

  He’d shared his story with me too, after all.

  He was easy to talk to.

  I drove home without answering, realizing that therein lay the problem.

  I didn’t want to hang out with cute singers who were easy to talk to. I couldn’t chance any feelings forming and more disappointment in my life. Oh, I hoped I’d move on eventually. I certainly didn’t want to find myself all alone and joining a knitting club for companionship. (Not that I had anything against knitters, since I’d known how to do a garter stitch since the age of nine, courtesy of my nana.) But the new me imagined herself settling down later, with someone older maybe (well-off financially isn’t a sin either). We could have a few children and I’d talk politely with the wives of his friends while our kids did water polo or something.

  The point was, good-looking musicians were dangerous at the best of times. I was not even close to the best of times.

  I looked at the clock. It was already eleven.

  My phone buzzed again.

  OR HOW ABOUT LUNCH? I’M HUNGRY.

  My stomach growled. I looked down at what I was wearing. Some mornings I was so bleary-eyed that I showed up to the station wearing no makeup and a ballcap on my head. As I looked at my cuffed-up jean capris, white Converse shoes, and one of my old favorites, a loose black Johnny Cash T-shirt—I figured I looked presentable enough. I could reapply eyeliner. I grabbed my phone.

  OKAY. WHERE SHOULD WE MEET?

  Fifteen minutes later, I was sitting at Tokyo Joe’s, sipping a soda. I watched Ben jog through the parking lot. With Nike shoes and long, loose sho
rts, he looked like he’d been either at the gym or on a basketball court. The top half of his hair was pulled back in a topknot, which somehow looked perfect on him.

  “Hey.” He stopped in front of me, catching his breath.

  “Where did you come from?” I grabbed my purse and stood up, then we walked together to the counter to order.

  “Basketball at the rec. I play every week.”

  We both ordered bowls of steaming teriyaki chicken and then went back to our table. I kept looking at that tattoo on his arm.

  “Tell me about your tattoos.” I took another sip of my drink.

  He looked down at his arm and ran his hand over the ink.

  “This one is old, from way back in college. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking or why I ever thought it was cool. No special meaning or anything. I liked it because it made me think of skiing or surfing. At least, I think that’s why I liked it. I do still really like the movement of it. I added this later.” Along the side of the curved stripe read Isaiah 43:19. I made a mental note to look that up later. Ben flipped his left wrist and held it out to me. “This one was a few years after college.” I leaned closer. One word.

  Healed.

  I tried to swallow but my mouth felt parched-dry.

  “It’s a reminder to me that no matter how broken I feel or what I do, God healed what matters.” He flipped over his right wrist and my heart twinged at the sight of one name. Sadie. Above his wrist, on the inside of his forearm, there were these words: When the brokenhearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, Let It Be. “I got this one in college as well. It seems to be the time for bad decisions.”

  “The Beatles,” I said and he nodded. “I like it,” I told him. Without thinking, I reached out and touched the tattoo. I looked up to find him staring at me, so I quickly withdrew my hand and cleared my throat.

  “Any other ones you want to tell me about?” I finally asked.

  He grinned a wicked grin—and this from a worship pastor! “Not yet.”

  I rolled my eyes. He chuckled as he devoured the teriyaki bowl in front of him. I refilled my soda and sat back down. “I was wondering who influenced you musically. I love the definite edge of rock in all your music, but you’re not afraid to infuse some pop to lighten it up.”

  “Just a tad,” Ben said, holding up his thumb and forefinger to indicate an inch or less. I smiled.

  “I’m eclectic in my taste,” he told me. “I’ll give anything a try, and I think there’s value in all kinds of music. I grew up on gospel and I still love it. My dad always liked Johnny Cash; there’s no doubt Cash made an impression on me. So … that shirt you’re wearing? Yeah, I like it.” He winked at me. I looked down at The Man in Black on my T-shirt and then glanced back up. I couldn’t help thinking Ben should be careful with those winks. A girl could get carried away. Ben continued, “The Beatles are probably my favorite band ever. They changed everything. Bob Dylan. Steven Tyler. Pearl Jam. U2. Skillet. Radiohead, of course. Nirvana. Even Coldplay reaches me. Now, I follow lots of indie bands. There’s so much music out there, it’s hard to tap into everything. Twenty-Four definitely leans into rock, but I like so many genres, I’m always open to mixing things up.”

  “I get that.” I nodded. “I listen to everything from showtunes to hip hop, depending on my mood. First concert you ever went to?”

  He cracked his knuckles and folded his hands. “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”

  I grinned at that. “Mine was Shania Twain. My mother loved her—she still does—and took me to hear her.”

  Ben laughed. “Awesome.”

  “I enjoyed it a lot.” I shrugged. “But the first time I was blown away was when my mother took me to see Les Misérables. I was ten, I think. I cried.”

  “You love theater, then?”

  “Passionately.”

  “But you went into radio?”

  “I’m terrible onstage. I tried in high school. I always get so wrapped up in the story that I forget my lines or want to sing along with someone else’s song. I get way more out of it by buying a ticket. And truly, I enjoy radio so much. For the most part. All the advertising can get annoying.”

  “I listened to your show this morning,” he told me. “You’re really good on-air, Deb. You and that guy have good chemistry.”

  “Thanks. Andy’s really nice. He’s been doing this for longer than I have and he’s made a name for himself around here.”

  “You did this in Texas too?”

  I nodded, wiping my mouth after finishing the last bite of my lunch. “Yeah, I worked for a Christian radio station for a few years. It was a good experience. One of the women who worked there had a contact here at KGBL. She helped get me the job. Patty is her name. She knew I needed a change.”

  “What made you get into this line of work?”

  I leaned over and rested my chin on the palm of my hand. “I majored in communications and minored in music. I love both and I had a goal of working in radio from early on. So I worked at the radio station on campus at the college I went to. Then I did an unpaid internship with a more well-known radio station. Money was tight, I lived at home, but the experience was worth it, and I made good contacts. That ended up helping me get the job in Texas. I was totally ready to go—ready for an adventure. I moved without knowing anybody. Now I’m here.”

  “What do you play? Or do you sing?”

  Neither at the moment.

  “I taught guitar lessons for extra money in Texas. I used to sing sometimes at church. But music—well, I’m concentrating on work right now.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me about Twenty-Four Tears. I think I’ve already memorized all your songs.”

  His eyes lit up like fireworks. “Really? Well, Bryce and I have written most of the songs. A couple I wrote, he wrote a few, and we collaborate on everything. Karis has been with us about seven months. Xander is our drummer. Seth plays keys. Sometimes Milo comes around to help us with sound.”

  “Have you tried to get signed?”

  He sighed. “Not exactly. We paid for studio time and have about half an album available online or burned on CDs. We do a lot of cover songs too. We’ve been playing fairly consistently in Denver and the nearby cities. We all have jobs outside of the band, of course, so it can be hard to work around schedules. Xander and his wife have a new baby. But we love performing together. So we keep at it.”

  I ran my finger over one of the grooves on the table. He studied me closer. “I’d love to hear you sing sometime.”

  Never. Going. To. Happen.

  I dropped my crumpled-up napkin in the plastic bowl, preparing to throw away trash. “I don’t have an extraordinary voice or anything. I’ve just always been drawn to music. I think I’m pretty good at recognizing talent, though. That’s helpful in radio.” I walked to the nearby trash can. When I got back to the table, Ben was cleaning up as well. The line of customers had reached the door and nearly every table was claimed.

  “What do you have going on for the rest of the day?” he asked me once we were walking back toward our cars.

  “Not much. Sometimes I sleep after my shift, since I work so early in the mornings.”

  “Well, my schedule is all over the place. I work full-time as the music minister at Rock Community, but that carries over into doing whatever Eric needs. I try to help out where I can. Wednesday nights the band practices. Saturday morning the worship team practices. Sometimes I help Drake and Shauna—they run our teen ministry.” He chuckled. “I think since I don’t have a wife or kids, everyone on staff sees me as the go-to guy for anything.”

  “Do you mind?” I wondered aloud. He shook his head.

  “Nah. I say no when I need to. I like being around people. And really, I like being busy. The only time I want everyone to give me space is when I’m working on a song. Sometimes I have to hole up when I need to write. Have you ever written a song?”

  “I’m not a songwriter. Do songs about turtles count? I
think I wrote three songs about my turtle, Zach, when I was in the fifth grade.”

  Ben laughed, and I liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. “You had a turtle? Not a dog or a cat or a hamster?”

  “Nope. Zach the turtle,” I stated, and he laughed again, a warm and happy sound.

  “You’ve been here two months, right? That’s what Paige was saying.”

  I nodded.

  “Have you seen much of Denver yet? Or Colorado for that matter?”

  I leaned against my car. “No. I flew out ahead of time and found my condo. Then I drove out with a U-Haul over a weekend, started working on Monday, and basically hit the ground running. I work all week. I met Paige, but she usually works Saturdays, so we haven’t hung out much other than lunch dates and dinner a few times. I’ve been to a few malls—I like the outlets at Castle Rock, and 16th Street is cool. But no, I haven’t explored the area much yet.”

  “Excellent. Colorado is awesome, especially during summer, and I volunteer to help show it to you. Starting with our turtles.” Ben rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  “Turtles?”

  “I’m free today. You’re free. Let’s go to the zoo. When was the last time you went to a really good zoo?”

  “Well, in Texas, you could die from heatstroke during the summer, so I never went to the zoo. I went to one in Minneapolis when I was a kid.”

  “The zoo in Denver is great. The one in Colorado Springs is even better. But the one in Denver is closer. Want to go?”

  This guy. Boundless energy.

  “You want to spend your afternoon at the zoo, with me?” I shook my head in disbelief.

  “All right, I admit it. I love the zoo and no one else ever wants to go with me. I’m hoping I found a new friend who likes the tigers as much as I do. Also, I’d like a reason to avoid setting up for the women’s Bible study held at the church tomorrow morning.”

  I laughed at the sincerity in his voice. “You and me and the turtles and tigers. Let’s go.”