Hearts In Rhythm (9 page)

Her heart was a delicate place, like a garden that needed tending and nurturing. She had to take care of it, not let anyone in to trample her blossoms before they had a chance to really show their flowering glory. She was not going to let just anybody in.

Allie brought herself out of her memories and back to reality.

“Brandon, that song was lovely.”

“Thank you,” he said looking at his shoes. “You’re the first person I’ve played it for.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“Well,” he said, “let’s just say you were my inspiration.”

Allie caught her breath before Brandon heard her gasp.

“You mean, you wrote a song about me?” She couldn’t keep from smiling. “Woohoo! I’ve always been jealous of those girls who have songs written about them. You know, ‘Jessie’s Girl’, ‘Angie’, ‘Good Golly, Miss Molly’”.

They both laughed. Allie was enjoying him more and more. She still didn’t know where Simone stood in all of this, and quite frankly she was afraid to question. She didn’t want to ruin it by bringing up her name, and yet the suspense was killing her.

“Still cold?” Brandon asked her.

“A little.”

“Let me get us something warm to drink.” Allie watched him walk into the kitchen.

She got up and walked over to the stereo system.

“Can I hear that song again?” she called into the other room.

“Sure,” he called back. “Just push play.”

She pushed the arrow indicating play and the room filled with the melodious sounds of Brandon’s voice and a piano accompaniment. She stood there, still with the blanket draped around her shoulders, swaying to the sounds. She listened to the words more closely this time amazed, that someone would write a song about her. Maybe he’s feeling some of the same feelings, she thought.

Brandon walked into the living room carrying two black steaming mugs. One with a red guitar and one with a set of drums. He held out the mug to her.

“Very cool,” she said.

She took her mug in both hands and brought it to her mouth allowing the steam to rise into her face.

“Let’s make a toast,” Brandon said.

Allie raised her cup and listened as he began.

“Here’s to the band and their many successes to come. And here’s to us, to the beginning of a friendship.”

They clinked their cups together and took a sip from the steaming mugs.

For the next few minutes they talked about music and how they both began playing.

Allie tipped her cup and drank the last of her hot chocolate then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Brandon, I’ve got to be going. Samuel was discharged and I want to get home to him. I’ve got some balloons in the car that I picked up at the store.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I’d love to see him again.:

Allie clasped her hands together.

“I would love that. I mean, he would love that. We both would.”

“Great,” Brandon grabbed a set of keys off a long nail hanging by the door.

“I’ll just follow you over in your car.”

“Wait. But my car is…”

Brandon interrupted her. “Fixed. I had Cody come over. He’s the resident mechanic. He replaced the starter. She runs like a champ now.”

Allie couldn’t believe her ears.

“How much do I owe him?”

“It’s already been taken care of,” he said, opening the door. “After you, my dear.”

* * * *

“Mommy!” Samuel yelled when Allie opened the door and stepped inside. He lay on the couch, his little neon casted leg propped up on a pillow. Cartoons were blaring from the television. He held a red Popsicle in his good hand but he wasn’t eating it fast enough. It sat slushy on the stick and red lines ran to his elbow. He was equally excited to see Brandon, squealing when he stepped inside after Allie.

Allie tossed her purse in the corner and rushed over to her son. She sat on the edge of the couch.

She began covering his face in kisses, repeating I love you’s between each kiss. Samuel giggled and squirmed under her barrage of affection.

“Let me get a napkin before you become a big sticky mess. You say hi to Brandon, okay?”

Allie stood and walked toward the kitchen.

“It’s time for his pain meds,” Gail called from her bedroom. “They’re in the kitchen, the directions are on them.”

Allie retrieved a napkin and Samuel’s medicine and headed back to him. There was a loud knock on the door.

“I bet that’s Maureen. She said she was coming to sit with you awhile today.”

She handed the napkin to Brandon.

“Do you mind?” she asked.

Brandon took the napkin from her hand and began wiping all the red from Samuel’s hand and arm. Allie walked to the door and turned the knob expecting Maureen to be standing there in her loud print clothes.

She felt Samuel’s bottle of medicine slip out of her hand and heard it hit the floor. She blinked hard.

“Hello Allie. It’s been a long time.”

Chapter Nine

Brandon had never seen the man standing on Allie’s porch, but he could easily sense the tension filling the air.

“Dylan,” Allie said. “What do you want?” Her voice was low, but Brandon heard the quiver in it.

Dylan bent over and picked up the bottle of medicine that had landed right inside the door.

“You dropped this,” he said. He handed it to Allie. Then pushed the door wider and stepped inside.

“So this must be Sam.”

“Samuel,” Allie corrected him. “Dylan, what do you want?” she repeated louder.

“What do I want? You’re the one who called me. I’m only returning the call. In person.”

“He doesn’t know you.”

“It’s time to change that.”

“No. You need to leave. Now.”

Dylan snorted. “Still the same little bossy thing, aren’t you. I’ll leave when I get ready. Right now I’m going to meet my son.”

Dylan approached the couch where Brandon was still sitting with Samuel.

“My, my Allie. You’re more of an unfit mother than I expected. How does something like this happen to a child?”

Samuel’s look of calm had been replaced with a furrowed brow. His breathing was rapid and he had instinctively put his thumb in his mouth.

Brandon hated to interfere, seeing as he knew nothing about the situation, but he cared for Samuel and it was obvious he was becoming anxious.

He put one arm carefully under Samuel’s bent knees and the other around his back and hoisted him into his arms. He looked at Allie.

“Me and Samuel are going to try out his superman cape in his room,” he told her.

“No, you’re not,” Dylan was before him in an instant. “This is my boy. I have every right to him.” He began to try to take Samuel out of Brandon’s hands. Allie forced herself between them and faced Dylan.

She shoved him on his chest. “Get out! Get out now! You have no right to him. Just get out!”

Tears streamed down Samuel’s cheeks. His crying almost matched the volume of Allie’s voice. He was reaching for his mother, almost hysterical. Brandon smoothed his hair and held him tight to keep him from wrenching loose from his grip.

Dylan’s voice remained steady. “You can’t stop me from seeing him, Allie.”

Gail stepped around the corner from her bedroom.

“It’s time for you to go. Or I’m calling the cops.”

Dylan began backing towards the door.

“Don’t think you’ve heard the last of me. That’s my boy, and look at him. You’re unfit, Allie. I’m going to prove it too. I’ll see you in court.”

At that, he turned and walked out.

      Allie turned towards Brandon and Samuel who was still screaming. She wrapped both her arms around them and began to sob.

“No one is taking my boy away. No one.”

* * * *

Allie lay awake that night. Samuel was nestled beside her, sleeping deeply. His heavy breathing was a sweet sound to her ears. She, on the other hand, was restless. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions. What if Dylan gets a lawyer? There was no way she had the money to afford one, but she wouldn’t dare go to court without one. She could only hope he was bluffing. He didn’t even know Samuel. Why would he want a relationship with him now after all this time?

She contemplated her options. She had none. Except to run. She could take Samuel and go someplace else, not tell anyone, not even her mother. It would be best that way, so no one would be forced to lie.

But where would she go? She lay in bed, one leg thrown out of the covers, stroking Samuel’s head imagining a new, different life. She envisioned a nice little two-bedroom house for her and Samuel. It was white with Kelly green shutters on the windows. There was a puppy in the yard, and there was Samuel running and playing, the puppy at his heels. She was there too, sitting in a rocker on the porch laughing at her son and his dog. Yes, it was possible. She could make a good life for the two of them.

She eased out of bed, pulling her arm gently from underneath Samuel’s head so not to disrupt his sleep. She froze in the dark room when he groaned and rolled to his side. She waited just a second to make sure he was back to sleep and padded to the dresser. She opened her sock drawer and found the pair of black socks with four leaf clovers stamped on them.

She reached into the toe of one and pulled out the roll of money that she had been saving. She unfolded the bills and counted them. She already knew how much money was there, but she wanted to double-check herself. She didn’t have enough to last long, but enough to get her settled and one month’s rent paid. She replaced the sock back in the drawer and walked out of the bedroom.

Using her cell phone as a night-light, she went to the bookcase in the living room where her mom kept an atlas that had a page for each state. She sat on the couch with the atlas in her hand and began thumbing through not looking for any place in particular.

Her thoughts wandered to her mom. She would be distraught when she discovered them gone, but it would be a relief to her as well. Allie knew her mom loved her and Samuel dearly, but they were also a big responsibility, one might even consider them a burden. Especially since Samuel’s accident, Gail had appeared depressed. She was always gloomy, but Allie noticed a more pronounced sadness. She felt guilty, Allie knew it, but accidents happen. Even the child welfare, when they came to the hospital to investigate, dismissed it as accidental.

Allie knew Gail would take their leaving hard, but it would be best in the long run for everyone. And then there was Brandon. The band would suffer, but not as much as she would suffer if Dylan really did what he threatened. She could be replaced as a drummer, and they would survive. She would miss Brandon, but she didn’t know his feelings for her anyway. He has Simone and it would be best if she gets out of the picture. New scenery and a new start away from her mom may be just what she needed.

She opened the map wide and it fell open to a random page. She would let destiny decide her future. She squeezed her eyes shut and lifted her finger. Turning it slowly, a childhood song came to mind.
Round and round and round she goes, where she stops nobody knows
. Her finger plopped down on the page. She slowly opened her eyes and shone her phone toward it to see her fate. She lifted her finger and read the name underneath. Paramount. Paramount, Massachusetts. What a fitting name. A supreme choice for a very important move.

* * * *

Across town, sleep evaded Brandon after the situation he was involved in. He rolled to his side and looked at the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. 2:17 glared back at him.

He got out of bed and dressed quickly. Grabbing his keys, he backed out of his driveway and headed south. It was a cold night in early December. The sky was clear but patches of snow still remained along the sides of houses and in the shadows of tree trunks. He turned off the radio willing the silence that surrounded him to calm his mind.

Before he realized it, he was heading down Allie’s street. He parked the car across from her house and cracked the window. The neighborhood was quiet. He could hear a dog barking some distance away. A light appeared in a window. It could be Gail, but it also could be Allie. He wanted to talk to her. She had been so upset after Dylan had appeared; Brandon thought it best that he leave without prying or interfering.

He got the gist of the situation however. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure it out.

What Allie didn’t know, was that Dylan didn’t leave right away. When Brandon stepped outside, he saw him leaning against his car smoking a cigarette.

He checked both ways before crossing the street. Not so much for cars, but for witnesses. His blood was boiling. Before he could even get over to him, Dylan had scoffed.

“So what? Are you Allie’s new thing?” He blew out a long stream of smoke and didn’t wait for an answer.

“Let me save you some trouble. That girl, she’s nothing but a two bit tramp with kid that’s a…”

Brandon didn’t wait for him to finish. He doubled up his fist and made contact with Dylan’s nose. He even surprised himself with that action. He watched Dylan’s head snap back and then fall forward. He hoped that would be all it took to get him to leave, but instead he dropped his cigarette and came at Brandon. Brandon braced himself as Dylan threw his weight into Brandon’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his waist.

The momentum was too much and they fell to the street. Rocks and gravel dug into Brandon’s back as he squirmed trying to throw Dylan off of him. But Dylan overpowered him and began landing blows to Brandon’s face.

He placed his arms in front of his face to block and winced at every blow that snuck past and landed on his face and head. He felt blood running down the side of his face and into his ear. And yet they just kept coming.

A shooting pain went through his eye and he cried out for the first time but it was drowned by the grunts and curse words of Dylan.

In the fraction of a second it took to wonder if he was going to be beaten to death, he saw Allie’s face. She was there just for an instant. But in that instant, it became clear, the reason he was lying on the ground taking a beating in the first place surfaced. It was for her. And it was for Samuel. He would fight for them. He would do whatever it took.

At that moment, something inside of him snapped. He gritted his teeth and with a power and force that he hadn’t known he possessed, he used his arms and his hips to throw Dylan off of him. Dylan landed on his back and began to scramble to his feet, but Brandon was faster. He quickly swiped the blood out of his eyes and ran towards Dylan, who was in a half-crouch, hunched over position attempting to stand. Brandon drew his leg back just like he practiced when he was the kicker on the football team. With a running impact, He lifted his leg and aimed it right toward Dylan’s head. He felt the impact immediately and knew he landed a good blow.

Dylan fell backwards at once and lay quiet on the ground groaning.

“You broke my nose,” he said in a nasally tone. “I think you broke my nose.”

Brandon walked over to him and squatted down beside him. He clenched Dylan by the throat and squeezed.

“Tell me that you’re going to leave Allie and Samuel alone.”

“I am,” he wheezed.

“You’re not going to get a lawyer, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re not going to bother her ever again, right?”

“Never again.”

Brandon released Dylan and he immediately rolled to his side and began coughing and gasping for breath.

Brandon pulled a blue bandanna from his hip pocket and tossed it on the ground before Dylan. He picked it up and held it to his nose, continuing to cough.

“Go home,” Brandon said. He walked to his car and drove off.

At the stop sign, he looked at his reflection in his rear view mirror. His eyes were already beginning to swell shut. His lips were busted, blood was smeared across his face, and his hair was matted with blood and sweat. He touched the back of his head. Warm wetness met his fingers and when he removed them, his fingertips were coated in blood from his head hitting the pavement repeatedly with each blow.

He made it to his house and in the bathroom. He turned the hot faucet on at the sink and waited while the water slowly warmed to a temperature he could stand. He placed a washrag under and began cleaning his face and washing his cuts.

He’d never fought anyone before. It was apparent he didn’t know how, and he hoped he never had to fight again. The pain in his head and face was excruciating, but he couldn’t help but feel another feeling. What was it? Honor perhaps. A sense of pride. Accomplishment. He felt like a warrior. Not a mean, vindictive man who was out to hurt people for no reason, like Dylan. But a hero. Someone who stood up for the underdog. Someone willing to fight for the rights of those who couldn’t fight for themselves. That someone was Allie. And Samuel.