This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad (38 page)

“I can see that. Look at you; you’re so radiant and so damn fit!” She gently takes my arm.

“I know right! I train with Greg, just like old times,” I tell her. The last time I was in a dance studio that often was in my teen years. But it feels good to sweat with Greg, to eat with Greg, to laugh with Greg, to make love to Greg…Greg, Greg, Greg… “He got me the dress,” I tell her.

She looks at me. “I married the wrong dancer. Yours is def
initely straighter than mine,” she teases but is obviously drooling over my dress. “The school is keeping me extremely occupied and we’re selling the condo.”

“Suburbia?
Congratulations!” A busy Noor is a happy Noor and we all want a happy Noor. “And Andrew?” I ask as I see the few other guests coming toward us. We booked the private section of the restaurant for about twenty guests and half of them are finally here.

“He might be working on John Wilson’s next musical. It’s big and they’ll be touring, not recasting from one city to anot
her,” she says, all excited.

“And when would that be? Aren’t you guys moving?” I ask. Good old Johnny; he finally finished that musical. But why is this all on
her
shoulders again?

“A John Wilson production, Luce; I know you’re new to the musical theatre world but that’s huge,” she snaps.

“Forgive me for caring. Of course you guys will work it out,” I tell her calmly and then get up. “Now, excuse me. I can see Greg’s parents and a frightened Michael coming this way,” I say before walking away. The definition of denial: probably the best-known defense mechanisms. I catch Greg looking at me and smile to him. Denial: the refusal to acknowledge the existence of internal thoughts and feelings. Denial, denial, denial, denial…

I can feel Greg’s steady breathing on my cheek and his ribcage’s movements on my back. I thought I was the only person who could sleep so soundly but when he’s finally out, he’s really out. Nothing is waking him up until the first morning light for his daily five-mile run and that’s when I fake being asleep. I slowly get up and leave his bedroom with one of his sweaters on.

“Kathie?” I softly say. No response; she must have gone home with Michael after the restaurant. I’ll be smoking all by myself tonight. I sit on the large balcony and finish my cigarette as soon as it is humanly possible; it’s below zero and I only have a sweater and socks on. Denial; I’m not a smoker but I haven’t stopped smoking since London, no more than four a day. I go back inside, closing the doors so we don’t lose heat. I could go in the kitchen and start baking until I feel like myself again but who am I kidding? I haven’t felt like myself in months and no amount of cooking will change that.

I lay on the sinfully comfortable couch for a minute to catch my breath. Denial; it has become a real player in my life lately. However, I didn’t reinstate the Marcus gag order; I’ve just been acting like it hasn’t happened. Our entire relationship, my summer, London, all of this is just a vivid dream. And I’m completely over it…denial, denial. Alright, I’m getting there! The anger is gone and that’s something. I don’t dream about him anymore; I also spend entire days without thinking about him unless I speak with Patrick about his divorce, the kids and his parents. But it’s not about Marcus! Denial…maybe a little. At least I’m not sad anymore. I’m not denying myself this type of happiness any longer, unresolved feelings or not.

I look at Greg’s bedroom door. Why have we waited so long to do this? Our friendship was too important. Denial, but on my part; friendship couldn’t have been the only reason. He’s without a doubt the most beautiful man I ever met, inside and out. And he loves me. Broken, full of trust issues and still pa
rtially hung up on her ex, me. I need to be on the other side of that door.

I go back to the bedroom as quietly as possible and slip next to Greg after removing his sweater. He puts his arm across my waist and brings me closer to him.

“Hey, you went smoking alone? You should have woken me up,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Aw, you would have gone with me? You only smoke after sex,” I tell him, putting my arms around his soft neck. No, it wasn’t the friendship. Screw the friendship; this is making me so much happier.

“Well, if you insist. I’ll gladly take another look at my present,” he says, now fully awake. “I believe I missed a few ribbons.”

“Greg,
saranghae
,”
I tell him for the first time before kissing him.

“
Saranghae
,
Lulu,” he responds before unwrapping his gift again. Then, just like that, I’m starting to feel like myself again and there’s no denying it this time.

Marcus

I’m here in Glasgow. Matt is turning thirty tomorrow, so this time I can’t wiggle my way out of it. I decided to stay away after Lucia’s dramatic exit in Paris. I thought it would be the best solution for us, some time away to cool off. She was so cross the last time we spoke and I didn’t handle it well at all. Finishing the album took me longer than anticipated but gave more time to think about her and surprisingly, about myself, where I am and where I want to be. Then Patrick came back to town and couldn’t wait to share the smashing news. He just got back from Sydney after almost two months there visiting the girls.

“Hey, Marcus,” he said, sitting across from me for breakfast. “I’m so jetlagged and I have an interview at St Thomas’ Hospital today,” he said and started to eat his omelet. “Have you heard from Lucia?”

I stopped eating. “What, no easing into it? You’ve been back for less than eight hours, Patrick, and already you’re asking me about that?”

“After the interview, I have to see a real estate agent then… Have you heard from her?” he asked again.

“No, Patrick, I haven’t heard from Lucia. She made it pretty clear in Paris that I wouldn’t,” I told him. “Have you?”

“Yes, I have.” That completely took me by surprise. “And about her as well,” he added. He pushed a magazine my way. “Page sixty.”

I took the magazine and turned to the page in question. It was an article about Greg McMullan’s show premiere in T
oronto three weeks before. There was a picture of him with Lucia on his arm. She looked radiant in a dark-blue dress. “So, she went to his premiere. Why wouldn’t she go?”

“He made his move, mate, and he’s winning her over,” Pa
trick said, finishing his plate.

“Says who? It’s just a bloody picture. Of course she was at the premiere; she’s his friend,” I snapped back. It just couldn’t be that easy.

But apparently it was. He threw another magazine on the table. What? Was he just collecting them to torture me? “Page fifteen. What can I say? They fancy the guy Down Under and the Riddells are known there too,” he added and cleared his plate off the table.

Lucia and Greg were in many pictures together. They called her his “new leading lady”. They were running together, wal
king downtown, getting coffee, at restaurants… They really had a paparazzo on their hands. I checked the date. The magazine was from this week.

“And she told me, Marcus.” He took the Aussie magazines back.

“Lucia?” Why was I not surprised those two were in contact.

“Yes. We’ve talked a few times in the last two months. Did you really think she was going to wait for you to grow a pair?” he said.

“I don’t know. Maybe. But it’s none of your business anyway,” I told him before leaving the room.

“Oh, that’s mature, Marcus. Run away from the convers
ation! No wonder she chose the guy who kept showing up!” I heard him shout before I slammed the music room door. “So, what are you going to do about it?” he said after opening the door. “Besides sulking.”

“What do you want me to do? It looks like she’s moved on. So I should do the same,” I said then started to play my piano.

“Marcus, it’s not too late to fight for her.” But my response was to play even louder.

“Suit yourself, mate,” he told me and left the room.

My caring brother didn’t stop there; he made sure I knew what an idiot I really was. He got me that blasted magazine every week after that, even when he wasn’t in town. They really fancied the couple there. I had no idea if Lucia knew what I was up to but with that paper, I was aware of her every move:

Michael Holland’s first single, “Once in My Lifetime”, from his u
pcoming album is number one in the charts. The album was written and composed by Lucia Mpobo-Riddell, girlfriend of famous choreographer Gregory McMullan.

New power couple, Lucia Mpobo-Riddell and Gregory McMullan, caught in best Bermuda resort to bring in the New Year.

Choreographer Gregory McMullan will be choreographing for Beesly & Matt’s upcoming Second Coming world tour in February.

Michael Holland’s second single, “To My Beloved” – SMASH HIT! Holland rumored to be opening for Beesly & Matt.

It’s confirmed; Michael Holland will be opening for Beesly & Matt in Glasgow, Hampden Park, and his album is still rising up the charts.

The inseparable duo, Lucia Mpobo-Riddell and Gregory McMullan, will both be part of the Second Coming Tour and have been rehearsing in Glasgow for the past two weeks.

I told Patrick that if he sent me another fucking magazine I would physically hurt him and I was deadly serious. Then Mum called to give me a piece of her mind. Coward…

After checking into our hotel, I’ve decided to go and watch the rehearsals. The tour will be starting in five days and Beesly told me that they have been working around the clock. There, I just follow the music and open the door of one of the auditoriums. It’s the wrong door; behind this one are…dance rehearsals. I’m about to turn around when I hear her voice.

             
“Danika, your legs need to be higher,” I hear Lucia say from one of the front rows.

             
I enter the dark room and sit quietly in the back. I’m not spying, I’m just curious. She moved on and so did I. The music starts again. It’s “Pazza”. The dancers try again and the one I presume to be Danika makes the same mistake.

             
“Stop the music!” Lucia says.

             
This Lucia I’ve never met. I’ve met the musician, the singer, the dancer. I see a silhouette stepping out of the darkness and walking toward the stage, a lean woman with very long hair; this can’t be her? She appears on the stage; at least I think it’s her. Her new, straight hair is down to the middle of her back and is also some kind of honey-brown with big, loose curls at the tip. She’s so fit; not that she wasn’t before, but now she looks more like a dancer. I can only see her profile and with the black sports’ bra and blue dance shorts, I can see the beginning of her six packs. Lucia has a six pack. She turns around and is finally facing me. She has red and black highlights too?

             
“Sweetie, let’s start at the verse,” she says while Danika steps aside to look at her dance.

             
The music starts and she dances with the rest of the crew. She’s even more graceful than before; her technique has improved so much. She lifts her legs to the point of almost knocking herself with them! She’s just thriving on this stage. I’ve really never met this Lucia. She laughs at the end of the routine, an honest and happy laugh.

             
“I don’t think I can go that high every night!” Danika whines and to confirm she tries unsuccessfully a few times.

             
“That’s why I’ll be playing the guitar. I can change my solos anytime I want,” Lucia laughs.

             
“That’s lazy talk, Lulu!” a male’s voice says from backstage.

             
“Where the fuck have you been, Greg?” Lucia giggles a little. Greg steps on the stage with Beesly. “You’re so not the boss of me, lad!” she puts her arms around his neck and kisses him.

Everyone on the stage is making a fake barfing sound. I pe
rsonally feel like my breakfast is coming back up.

“Oh yeah?
Your favorite torturer is back. So now I can go to
my
rehearsal,” she tells the rest of the crew, still in Greg’s arms. “B? Are you joining us later?”

“In an hour or so, Luce.
I have to…work on a few routines,” she says. I could have sworn she’s seen me in the dark. “I’ll walk you out,” she’s directly looking at me.

“
Jagiya,
” Greg says, releasing her. “I love you.”

I just got punched in my guts.

“So, you’re in love with me are you?” Lucia says with a ridiculous Scottish accent. “I love you too
.
”

Forget my guts; I think my soul is bleeding. It’s an awful fee
ling. They both unknowingly pass me when they leave the auditorium, and Greg starts the rehearsal again, but this time with an iron fist.

Beesly comes back inside and quietly walks towards me. “Are we enjoying the show, Cushion?” she whispers while si
tting next to me.

“So you did see me,” I tell her, not taking my eyes off the stage. Looks like Danika is finally getting her move right. I turn to her. “She has changed.”