I'm glad to see that people are reading! This is the last full chapter I had saved on my computer, so I'm going to have to start writing again. I have a good portion of the next chapter done, so hopefully it won't take too long to finish. Let me know if you like it!
Chapter 4- Scenes from and Italian Restaurant
It was in a quiet cafe on the south side of town that the past and the future collided. To an onlooker, the collision was nothing more than the light brushing of two worlds against each other. A name spoken aloud, causing a head to turn. A baby's sweet smile over the shoulder of his mother and a flash of anger in blue eyes. There was nothing unusual about the moment. But that was just to an onlooker.
The cafe was known for having the best chai in town. So good in fact, that it had earned itself a number of regular customers. One of those daily customers was a dark haired man in his late twenties. Each morning found him sitting by the window, sipping his milky drink in silence. The waitresses and baristas had fawned over him for the first few weeks, falling victim to his piercing eyes, but their overly obvious flirting had no effect. Soon enough, they gave up, realizing that he was only interested in the tea and the newspapers he brought in with him each day. He read the papers slowly, starting with the music section. He also glanced through a few tabloids, only stopping to read the occasional headline. It was as though he were waiting for something to show up; something that never did.
The sun was weak but bright in the little cafe on the afternoon that this simple routine was shattered. Bells rattled against the glass door as it opened, granting access to a young family. The man by the window didn't bother looking up, he just continued reading the paper. A gust of wind closed the door behind them, rattling the bells extra hard, but still the man by the window didn't lift his eyes from the article he was reading.
"I don't know why you have to go back to Toronto so soon." The young woman said, her face forming a small pout. The family took their place in the line leading up to the counter. "Can't they hold things together without you for a little while longer? I mean you haven't even been home for two weeks yet." The thin brunette bent over the stroller she had been pushing and lifted her small child out of the seat. She turned to her husband with sad eyes, knowing even as she did, that he would leave again.
"I'm doing the best I can, Michelle, you know that. I'd love to stay longer, but I have... responsibilities in Toronto. I've made commitments and I can't just walk out on them; not now." There was a distant look in his eyes as he finished the sentence, but it went unnoticed.
"You've made commitments here too, Jamie. You've got a family that loves you and wants you around." He looked at the floor, listening to the lecture that he had heard each time he left. She was right, he needed to be there for his family, but things were never that easy. Misreading the look in her husband's eyes, she attempted to explain her frustration. "I know that owning your own record company is a lot of responsibility, and taking that on at your age is amazing, but you've got to find a balance. That's why you have a partner. Maybe you should talk to Pagan about handling the Toronto branch himself. You can focus on developing the company here in Los Angeles and still be home for dinner every night."
Nobody noticed the man by the window sit up straighter in his chair. He had yet to look up from the article that he was reading, but his posture had changed. His shoulders were rigid, and his jaw was tight. Without his realizing it, bits and pieces of the conversation had drifted in his direction, catching his attention. Toronto. Jamie. He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thought. It was a coincidence, it had to be. He struggled to find his place in the article he was reading. Toronto is a big city. he reminded himself. There are plenty of people named Jamie. But he continued to listen subconsciously while staring blankly at the article he was attempting to finish. Record company. Pagan. Now his skin prickled. His eyesight blurred as his fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. Something wasn't right.
Finally, the man at the window looked up from the newspaper and caught his first glimpse of the young couple. She was a pretty brunette woman, thin and willowy, holding a baby on her hip. His eyes traveled from the woman to her husband, just as he turned around to face her. In a fraction of a second, time seemed to stop moving as the man in the corner felt the simple life he had created for himself crash to the ground, being replaced with the memories of another world. His blood ran cold.
Jamie glanced down at his wife, seeing the heartbreak in her eyes. He knew there were no words that could cure her disappointment over his leaving, so he just hugged her softly. "I'm sure I can push things back a few more day, stay until the end of the week." He sighed, turning back toward the counter, placing the order for the whole family. Turning around, he scanned the café for a place to sit. Noticing an empty table by the window, Jamie led his family over to the cozy table. Reaching down, he cleared the abandoned paper off of the surface. He glanced down casually at the page it had been left on and stopped dead in his tracks. Staring up at him was a picture of Jude, next to an article entitled 'Have we heard our last song from Jude?' Jamie quickly hid the flustered look on his face, tossing the paper face down onto another table. The bells on the door rang softly, announcing the exit of another café patron, Jamie never bothered to look up.
Outside the door, the man who had just exited glanced back at the café, seeing the small family sitting at the table he had just occupied a few moments before. Pulling out his phone, the man crossed the street, quickly disappearing around a corner. He dialed a number from memory and waited impatiently for an answer on the other end.
"Hey Marco," He said quickly into the phone, not betraying the emotion stirring in his body. "I'm not going to be in the office for a while." He waited for a response before divulging one last piece of information. "I've got to make a visit to Toronto."
She's actually gone insane this time. Speid thought to himself as he listened to the tail end of Jude's telephone conversation. She had just booked performance number five of the week. In addition to that, she had studio time set up with all of the artists she was producing, as well as her own studio session for the first time in months. She'd rearranged his kitchen, cleaned out the refrigerator and had taken up both baking and painting as hobbies. She was currently attempting to take a pie out of the oven while still holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder. Spied rushed to take the wobbling cookie sheet that held the pie pan out of her hand just before she dropped it.
"Thanks." Jude said, snapping the phone shut as she turned back toward the counter. "Now that the pie is done, I can take a whack at these cookies." She was already pulling out the ingredients, searching around for the right sized measuring cup. Speid put his arms on her shoulders, pulling her just for enough away from the counter to keep her from reaching the flour.
"Slow down there tiger, this isn't a bake-a-thon." Speid said, as he turned her around to face him. She squirmed in his grasp, impatient to get back to the task at hand. "You've been on the run all week, you aren't sleeping, and you've got a killer day set up for yourself tomorrow." His glance softened as he took in her agitated state. "You are running yourself ragged and I am worried about you." Jude broke the gaze between them, pulling away from his grasp. She sighed, sitting down at the table and resting her forehead on the cool surface. After a moment, she looked up at Speid.
"I'm staying busy. I need to stay busy." Jude said, her eyes pleading with him to understand. He sat down across from her as she put her head back down on the table. He looked helplessly at the curtain of blond hair that blocked her face from view.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked, knowing that there was something particular on her mind. There were only a few things that Jude obsessed over to the point of insanity.
"I'm lost Speid." She glanced up at him, her eyes glistening, the unshed tears threatening to spill over. "I've made so many wrong choices and now I don't know who I am." Now that she had stopped moving, reality was crashing down on her in huge waves.
"You aren't lost Jude, you are right here. Behind all the pain and sadness, you're still there, the crazy girl who throws drumsticks at my head and shreds harder on a guitar than anyone I know. You are still my rock goddess." Jude shook her head slowly, hiding her face behind her hair again. Spied got up from his chair and rounded the table, kneeling in front of Jude.
"I can't find him Speid." Jude said quietly, mentioning him out loud for the first time. Speid looked sadly at her, knowing who she meant. "He's the only one who can fix the mistakes I've made."
"He's out there somewhere Jude, he'll turn up." He took her hands in his, wishing he could help her in some way. He knew her heart was broken, and he couldn't put it back together. The pieces belonged to someone else.
"I've looked everywhere Speid, I can't find him." She said, thinking of Detective Avery and the painfully thin folder that she had hidden in her guitar case. She finally cracked, letting the tears fall silently down her face, tracing a path from her eyes to her chin.
"Then maybe you have to wait for him to find you." Speid said sadly. He silently prayed that wherever Tommy was, he could somehow sense when Jude needed him most.