Be Here Now: A Cedar Creek Novel (3 page)

When I stepped onto the dimly lit stage, I heard shouts and hollers throughout the bar, making me smile in anticipation. I grabbed a bar stool from the corner of the stage and moved it in front of the microphone, hopped onto it, and looked out to my audience. From where I was sitting, I could see the whole place. Being on a stage about to perform was exhilarating, always had been. I had been told before that my voice would get me places, but I wasn’t much for being in the lime light or playing in big places. My dream had been to work in the background and write music, but then life happened and changed my priorities. But every now and then—in a small setting like this—I enjoyed sharing my music and my voice. It was one of the most intimate things I could imagine, sharing yourself and your emotions like that with an audience.

I started strumming my guitar randomly, not really playing anything specific, just running my fingers across the strings softly and playfully, letting my fingertips feel the roughness of the metal strings. As I looked out over the people watching me expectantly, I noticed that I knew probably only half of them. It looked like tourist season really was starting early this year.

I kept strumming quietly when I addressed my audience.

“A lot of you know that Cooper’s has been jonesing for a new stage for some time now. Well, our wish has been granted, and starting tomorrow, this old lady will be replaced by a bigger and better one.” I looked down at my hands on the guitar as I kept strumming then looked back up. “But I wanted to give her one last farewell. She’s seen some good times throughout the years and deserves one last hurrah.”

Loud hollers and hoots echoed through the room.

I grinned. “I see you guys agree.”

The hoots and shouts got louder. My grin got bigger.

“Well, for everyone who doesn’t know me, my name is Loreley Cooper, and I’ll be playing a few of my favourite songs for you tonight. If you’d like me to play
your
favourite song, feel free to shout it out and I’ll see what I can do.”

I stopped strumming and laid my hands flat on the strings, stopping the sound.

“The first song I am going to play is one of the saddest and most beautiful songs out there. I dedicate it to the people in my life I have lost, people who were and still are close to my heart and who I think about and miss every day.”

I looked down to my hands as I started playing the opening notes of Eric Clapton’s
Tears in Heaven
unplugged version. The audience was quietly watching and listening as I played the quiet and sad notes of the song’s intro. When I started singing, asking if he’d know my name, I lifted my eyes back to the people watching me. But instead of seeing their eyes on me, I saw the eyes of the people I had lost. They were watching me, smiling at me, encouraging me.

Losing two of the most important people in my life, people I had loved with all my heart, had almost destroyed me, and I had struggled for the past year to come to terms with it and move on with my life. When I got to the part of the song about being strong and carrying on, tears started to pool in my eyes. I remembered how hard it was sometimes, how painful, to get up every day, knowing they were no longer a part of this world. But like Rick had said earlier, I was in a better place now; I was stronger. As I sang, my mind went through all the good and happy memories it had stored, and I felt a kind of peacefulness wash over me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It almost took my breath away. I kept on singing and closed my eyes, giving myself over to the song, feeling it, breathing it, letting its words heal me.

Because that was what it did.

It healed me.

It helped me say goodbye. Eric Clapton’s beautiful and devastating song about love and loss helped me let go.

My eyes stayed closed throughout the whole song, throughout the whole almost five minutes of it as I watched those peaceful and happy eyes I could see behind my eyelids as they watched me, and I let go of the pain. I could practically feel it leave my body and be replaced with acceptance, a sad acceptance, but acceptance nonetheless. Acceptance they were gone from this world but would live on in my heart and soul, would forever be a part of me; and because of that, would never be lost to me. I carried them with me every hour, every minute, every second of every day, and the thought of them being with me made me unbelievably grateful and happy.

As the song came to an end and I played its final notes, I opened my eyes again and saw some of the feelings I was feeling reflected on the people’s faces in front of me. It was a powerful song, and I wasn’t surprised that people felt deep listening to it. And seeing as half of the people here had known me since I was born, they knew about the loss I had endured and had watched me go through it.

I ended the song on a smile, finally feeling at complete peace with myself. I caught Chris’s eyes behind the bar. They were worried and concerned as they took me in. My smile grew bigger and brighter, reassuring him and myself that I was okay. His eyes warmed on me and his face split into a big and proud grin as he started hollering and clapping, breaking the silence that had come over the room since I finished the song. Every person in the room followed his lead and started clapping and shouting. I let that wash over me, too, as I pulled myself together.

“Thank you,” I said into the microphone when the noise died down.

“I promise that was the only sad song I will play tonight. Now, I heard there is a birthday celebration going on tonight, so let’s party and play some rock ‘n roll!”

The cheers and shouting and clapping picked up again as I started the next song and continued for the next hour. I played mostly classic rock songs, but mixed them with the occasional newer hit and requests that were shouted at me.

I had a blast.

And judging by the smiles and laughs and singing and general rocking out, I was guessing, so did everyone else in the bar.

“All right everyone,” I said as I got up from my stool and took the guitar strap off my shoulder. “That’s it for tonight. Make sure to stop by next Saturday when
Breaking Habit
is christening the new stage!”

I made my way to the side of the stage to hop off it when I a loud voice stopped me in my tracks. “Wait! I’ve got one more request!”

I looked out over the people to try and pinpoint whose voice that had been. There were so many people I didn’t know that I had no clue. A lot of them were turning around to look at the shadows in the back, like me, trying to figure out who was speaking.

“Please,” I heard, “Just one more,” the voice begged. It sounded strangely familiar, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out whom it belonged to.

Giving in to the request, I walked back to the stool and sat down. “All right, I’ll play one more. What’ll it be?”

“
Angel
by Sarah McLachlan,” I heard the voice say and my body went solid, my mind finally making the connection as to whose voice I was hearing.

It was Jason Sanders’ voice.

Jason fucking Sanders.

I had forgotten. Forgotten what that voice used to do to me; how his voice could affect me.

But it all came crushing back now.

Memories flooded my brain, the good and the bad: his voice singing to me while we were in bed, both naked after making love, me lying back, watching him, while he sat cross legged with his guitar in his lap, his eyes lovingly on me, singing the very song to me he was now asking me to sing; his growly voice as he was saying my name while moving inside me; his soft voice as he said he loved me.

And his angry voice filled with accusation as he told me I was being selfish for wanting to chase my dream of becoming a song-writer and go to L.A. without him.

And finally, his half-naked whore’s voice after she opened the door to his apartment, telling me Jason was in the shower.

All those memories ran through my mind within seconds and I squinted my eyes, trying to find him in the shadows.

That bastard.

He knew of course that
Angel
was my all-time favourite song. I loved Sarah McLachlan, and this song in particular was so beautiful, it had always threatened to bring me to tears. Jason knew this. Back then, I sang this song to him more than once, just as he had to me.

And now that motherfucking bastard was in my bar after almost six years, asking me to sing it for him again.

I closed my eyes in an effort to get control over all the feelings that were rushing through me. When I had stood on that doorstep, looking at the whore he cheated on me with, my world had turned from not-being-able-to-wait-for-the-future-to-start to a world of hurt and betrayal and disbelief. When a few months later, he refused to even talk to me on the phone and I had gone to one of his concerts to talk to him, my world had turned from hurt and betrayal and disbelief to one of anger and hate.

That. Mother. Fucking.
Bastard
.

I opened my eyes again and now I could see him standing at the back of the room.

God
!

He looked just as good as I remembered in his jeans and t-shirt, his tattooed arms hanging at his side. It made me hate him even more. His hazel eyes seemed almost black they were so dark and they were locked on me.

They were serious.

And determined.

And remorseful.

Yeah, right
.

He had no business showing up at my bar out of the blue, asking me to sing to him. Looking at me like that. Looking at me like he was asking for forgiveness. He had no business being anywhere near me!

There would be no forgiveness from me.

He had broken my heart, obliterated it, made me turn into a person I didn’t recognize, sent me through hell and back twice.

He didn’t deserve my forgiveness.

He didn’t deserve shit from me.

But I would play the song.

I’d had one hour of acceptance and peace, one hour where I felt like I could be happy again at some point in my life. And I wouldn’t let him take that from me. He had taken enough.

So I would play that damn song.

I would play it and show him that I didn’t care, that neither he nor the significance of the song had any power over me.

That I was over him.

That I had moved on and he meant nothing.

His eyes were still boring into mine as I pulled the guitar strap back around my shoulder and settled in.

“Sorry, guys. I know I promised you I wouldn’t play another sad song tonight, but since it’s someone else’s request you can’t blame me. So here it goes.”

I kept my eyes on him, making sure to have a look of indifference on my face that told him his presence didn’t touch me, that he didn’t affect me. I could see his eyes flare and his jaw clench and I smiled a cold smile I didn’t know I had in me. Then I started playing the song, my eyes fixed on his the whole time, never wavering. It almost felt like we were locked together, fighting a silent battle. A battle in which we could read each other’s thoughts and emotions: I was telling him that he wasn’t welcome here, that I had no idea why he would come back after all this time, not caring that he did, not wanting him back in my life, while he was telling me that he was determined and that nothing would make him change his mind, that he would do what he came here to do. What that was exactly, I had no clue, but I could tell that his resolve was solid.

That he wouldn’t waver.

That he would fight.

I narrowed my eyes at him as the song ended and people all around us were breaking out into loud applause and cheers. I didn’t hear any of it as I broke our eye contact, got up, and hopped off the stage, the guitar still hanging on my shoulder as I headed for the back hall and my office.

I needed a minute.

But I didn’t make it that far.

I was halfway into the hall when a strong hand on my arm made me stop and turned me around.

And then I was standing not two feet away from the man who had ripped me to shreds twice.

And he looked good enough to eat.

I had to clench my teeth so as not to remember the things I would feel when he touched me, when he explored my body, when he whispered sweet nothings into my ear, when he kissed me. My body instantly reacted to him as if it was conditioned to his closeness, his smell, his aura. My heart rate picked up, my breaths came in shallow pants, my belly dropped, and my whole body was about to shiver.

But I’d rather die than let him see any of that. So I locked it down, clenched my teeth harder to the point it hurt, and glared at him.

Jason was watching me, trying to read my reaction while at the same time I could see his body reacting to mine the same way mine had reacted to his. I could see the signs: his eyes had melted, his face was soft, his body was leaning into mine as his hand on my arm tensed in preparation to pull me towards him.

Oh no. That was not going to happen.

With a vicious twist I tore my arm free from his grasp and took two steps back.

“Loreley—” he started to say in his soft voice, but I interrupted him.

“What do you want, Jason? What could you possibly want from me?” I asked, my voice harsh and cold.

He flinched, then straightened and narrowed his eyes on me.

“I came here to talk to you.”

“You and I have not one thing to talk about,” I hissed.

He crossed his arms on his chest.

“Oh yes, we do. More than one thing actually, but we’ll start with this: I came here to apologize. I know it’s about six years too late, but here I am. I was a dick, a dick and an idiot for letting you walk away from me over some stupid fight, for not fighting harder for you, for not fighting for us. I said things I shouldn’t have said. I didn’t mean them and I have regretted every word every day for the past six years.”

My body locked.

Oh. My. God.

He had to be shitting me.

He came to my town, to my bar, after he threw me away like we meant nothing, and thought he could make it all better with a lame ass confession and half-assed apology?

What an asshole.

I mimicked his stance and crossed my arms on my chest.

“You can’t be serious!” My voice was still a hiss.