Thank you so much for the support and reading! It makes my heart happy. I worked really hard on this story (still am) so it's really encouraging, as my next project is an original novel.
I can't respond since you're not logged in, but WanderingWinter you made me laugh! Imagining him up in the trees! Haha! But I just wanted to say that he wasn't, he just was tall enough that it looked like his eyes were in the trees when Christine first saw him. He was actually standing by the mailboxes, near the trees. So funny though! Could you imagine? XD
Christine went to her next lesson feeling refreshed and enthusiastic. Even Anne had picked up on her sudden optimism.
"Oh that was so wonderful, Christine. You chose such a beautiful song too. I knew you would," Anne praised her with sparkles in her eyes. Christine preened under the appraisal. She could feel the difference herself.
Before she left, Anne surprisingly offered her a slot at the next Marlers concert and Christine's mood faltered.
"Oh, I mean, I'm just getting back into this, I don't know if—"
"It's your decision, of course Christine. I wouldn't pressure you. However, I am positive that by the time the recital comes, you'll be right back to where you were when we left off all those years ago. And besides, it's not a competition. No one will be there to judge you or criticize you in any way. It's just a way to get back into performing and show off that beautiful voice you have."
In the end, Christine agreed to take the slot. Anne was right. It wasn't anything major. Just a small performance with the other students that took lessons at Marlers. Most of them were children. There was absolutely no pressure.
It wasn't until she was riding home in the Uber that she realized with a heavy heart that it would be her first performance without her father in the crowd.
Upon reaching her door that night, she found a small brown package on the stoop and she frowned. She didn't remember ordering anything. She bent down and picked it up, seeing the label addressed to an Erik Irivani, apartment A1.
Her heart jumped at the name. Erik. His name was Erik.
Before she could do anything else, her phone rang and she balanced the box on her hip to grab the offending device from her bag. With a glance at the screen, she saw it was Meg.
She answered it and held it between her cheek and shoulder, the box in one hand and using her keys to unlock the door with the other.
"Hey Meg," she said, straining herself as she multitasked and managed to get inside the apartment with a kick to the door.
"Hey… You sound busy. Are you busy?"
Christine laughed breathlessly and dropped her bag on the couch and carefully set the box down. She quickly grabbed her phone. "Just got through the door. What's up?"
"Oh! Okay well in that case, I was wondering if you wanted to come out with me and Sam tomorrow night. We're heading over to that new crab house that opened up."
Christine grinned. "That sounds great! I'll be there."
"Yay!" Meg paused awkwardly afterward. "Do you mind if one of Sam's friends comes too?"
Christine's spirits immediately dampened. "Oh. Um... I don't know Meg. This isn't some kind of double date, is it?"
"No! No, it's not, but he is single and he is really nice. You'd like him. He mentioned he wanted to meet a nice girl. So I thought of you and I was going to ask you to join us anyways—"
Christine sighed. It was a double date. Maybe if she went along with it this time, Meg would get off her back for a while. "Alright, no it's fine. I'll be there." She had no idea what she had just signed herself up for.
Meg brightened her tone immediately. "Oh, yay! I'm so excited! Okay, we will pick you up, alright?"
Christine suppressed her negative thoughts and they hung up after coming up with a time. She sighed and put the rim of her phone to her forehead, closing her eyes. Meg just wouldn't stop. She knew her friend wanted her to be happy, she knew that, but what did "I'm not ready for a relationship right now" mean to Meg?
When she opened her eyes, she glanced at the box on her couch. Erik.
She'd need to return it to him. She smiled when she thought of their last conversation and how well she had done at her lesson that day. She almost wished he'd been there to hear her. Would he have liked it?
She picked up the package and headed back out the door.
Christine grew more timid than she thought she'd be when she heard his piano. Her hand shakily rose to the door and gave a soft knock. The melody cut off abruptly in a tangle of chords that made her wince.
Of course, she could have just left it on his doorstep, she realized. But what was done was done and she couldn't take it back.
… Or maybe she could just put it down now and save herself from further embarrassment—
She had just leaned down to put the box down in front of the door, when it swung open.
Frozen in her bent over position, she looked up, her eyes level with a familiar black encased torso. She shot up to her mere height of five foot three and met his eyes. They were pale again in the early evening light. She wasn't sure which ones she preferred, the unsettling barely there eyes or the glowing yellow ones.
He was still wearing that mask. She was beginning to wonder if he ever took it off.
"May I help you?" He asked, seeming surprised by her sudden intrusion. She supposed it was a bit odd to randomly knock on his door.
She gave him a bright smile to hide her discomfort. "Um, a package addressed to you was at my apartment so I'm just returning it." For emphasis, she held the box out for him.
He looked at the package for a long moment, almost seeming suspicious, before gingerly taking it with gloved hands. Who wears gloves in seventy degree weather?
"Thank you." His eyes slowly lifted from the box to hers and she tried not to visibly react to the way it made her insides twist.
"Of course, we're neighbors," she laughed lightly, nervously, trying to remain calm. There was just something about him that was extremely intimidating. Or thrilling. She hadn't decided which one. "I'm Christine, by the way. I don't think I've properly introduced myself."
His lips moved gracefully as he spoke. "It is a pleasure to meet you… Christine."
She was wholly unprepared for the way that amazingly melodious voice said her name. She didn't think she had ever truly liked her name until that exact moment. How could a voice be so captivating? I wonder if he sings.
She smiled at him, cheeks warm. When he didn't offer his name in return, she cleared her throat awkwardly. "I noticed your name was... Erik, on the box. Is that right?"
"Yes," his voice slightly cracked as he spoke, but she hardly noticed.
He sure was a man of few words. It was like pulling teeth. She wasn't sure why she was wanting to converse with him so strongly, but she just did. It could have been his music. It was just as captivating as his speaking voice. Or it could have been what he'd said about her singing. Either way, it made her curious about him.
"I, um, should tell you. I'm going to be performing in a few weeks. At a concert for Marlers Music Company. You, um, said you liked my voice so I... thought maybe you'd like to come?" Her chest felt hot under the skin, the tell tale sign of just how apprehensive she was.
He regarded her with unreadable eyes and a thin, frowning mouth, giving her absolutely nothing to go on to gauge his reaction. "You want me to come?"
She quickly backtracked, her face on fire. "Oh, is that crossing a line? I'm sorry, I know we don't know each other really, I just thought maybe, you know since what you said to me and—"
"No!" He hastily interrupted her, putting a hand up, his eyes wide with a strange panic that startled her. "Thank you for the invitation! I appreciate it and I will… consider coming."
Christine smiled softly, relieved that she hadn't made a fool out of herself after all. "Oh, good. I'm glad. I hope to see you there." She bit her lip and put a hand up to her hair, unable to think of anything else to say to him. "Well, bye Erik. I'll see you around."
"You as well, Christine."
She headed up the stairs with a quick heart, feeling his pale gaze following her every step.
oO0Oo
Christine stared at herself in the mirror. The red lipstick. The pinned back blonde hair. The mascara on her lashes. The rose colored sweater over her floral dress, making her eyes seem brighter.
What on earth was she doing?
This wasn't a date, she told herself. It wasn't. This was just merely going to dinner with Meg and Sam… and his friend. That's all it was.
She sighed and scowled at her reflection. This definitely looked like a date. Maybe she should wash off the lipstick—
Her phone buzzed on her bathroom counter. She looked down and saw it was Meg letting her know they were there to pick her up. Christine huffed. There was no time to change her appearance now.
Here goes nothing.
The restaurant was busy. Because the crab house had been open for only a couple of weeks, the novelty was still high. Christine didn't even want to know what it looked like on a weekend.
"Oh, there he is! Lance! Over here!" Meg called, waving ridiculously from across the room.
Christine's heart jumped with nerves and she looked over to see a man around their age with short brown hair approach them. He was smiling and she had to admit he was attractive. Angular features and warm chocolate eyes. He was a little bulkier than Sam's lithe figure, telling her he probably worked out in his spare time. He wore an aqua polo shirt and tan slacks, casual dress shoes on his feet. He looked like he should be on a golf course. She didn't think he was her type but honestly she wasn't even sure what her type actually was, so maybe he could be.
As he greeted Sam and Meg, he glanced in her direction, flickering over her dress a few times. Christine's cheeks flamed, continuing to regret the idea to dress up. When his eyes hesitantly met hers, he smiled.
"You must be Christine."
She smiled back, feeling Meg's intrusive eyes on her. "And you must be Lance. Nice to meet you."
"I must admit, when Meg said you were a dog groomer, I didn't expect you to be so pretty."
Christine wasn't sure how to take the off handed compliment but was saved by the hostess calling Sam's name, letting them know their table was ready.
Thankfully the table they were assigned was on the outside patio and the evening breeze blew through her, settling her nerves.
All in all, the night wasn't so terrible. Lance was nice. She could tell he and Sam had been friends for a long time. Apparently they had met in New York years ago. He was nervous though, that much was obvious. His fingers drummed on the table when he wasn't eating and his leg jostled under the table. He frequently shot glances in her direction and only spoke to her when he was expected to. Was she that intimidating to him?
Meg wasn't pushy, not really. She gave her a couple of meaningful looks, but other than that, she didn't meddle. Christine was thankful for that.
Lance suddenly smiled at her over his large glass of dark soda and Christine awkwardly swallowed her mouthful of iced tea. "I was surprised to hear Meg had other friends that weren't dancers."
Christine smiled meekly. "Oh no. I'm not graceful in the slightest."
"She sure can sing though!" Meg insisted and Christine inwardly groaned. Her eye twitched and Meg just stuck her tongue between her teeth, leaning over to Lance. "She's taking lessons and is going to be performing for Marlers in a few weeks. You should come with us. She's really good."
Christine blushed when Lance raised an interested eyebrow in her direction. "Is that so?"
Christine clamped her hands around her perspiring glass. "Yeah, but it's nothing major. It's just one song among a whole bunch of kids."
"You take lessons with kids?" Sam asked, a little startled.
"No, the students there are mostly children. Or teens," she explained with a nervous laugh. "Not all of them sing. Some play instruments. It's... it's just a little concert for their families." Christine's voice broke over the word family and she tried to cover it up with a clearing of her throat. She took another quick drink of her tea to hide the slip.
"We're going," Meg told them confidently. "You'll love her voice, guys. She's amazing. She used to sing for competitions all the time in school. She was the best."
Christine's cheeks flamed with the praise and the attention, her chest feeling splotchy already. "I wouldn't say that... but you're more than welcome to come."
The night finally ended when Meg yawned loudly and Sam ushered them out to the cars. Lance fell in step beside her and Christine tried to keep composure. She was relatively inept in dealing with men who were interested in her. At this point, she just wanted to go home and put the night behind her.
"Hey, I know that we just met but... you're pretty nice and I just thought maybe we could exchange numbers or something? Maybe we could go out some time?" The words were rushed out, like he had to say them as quickly as possible before he lost his nerve.
Christine almost tripped, feeling her insides clench with discomfort. Her first instinct was to decline and tell him the truth, that she wasn't looking for someone right now... but she didn't want to be rude and he wasn't horrible. She could tell it had taken a lot for him to ask her. She gave him a smile. "Sure."
Lance visibly relaxed his shoulders, pleased, and his smile was admittedly pleasant to look at. They exchanged numbers in their phones out in front of the crab house, and said farewell. Meg and Sam dropped her off and Christine trudged up to her apartment, wondering if she had made a mistake giving a man her number. If he was looking for anything in her, he'd be sorely disappointed.
She washed her makeup off and brushed her teeth, before grabbing the TV remote and aimlessly watching a nonsense sitcom. She didn't want to think of anything else at the moment and she was dismayed to not hear his music that night.