All She Ever Wanted Ch. 03

For the first time since he'd started Daniel realized that he was actually looking forward to playing at the club. His usual attitude of stoic willfulness had been replaced by a feeble glow of anticipation. It was as if a pinpoint of light had appeared at the end of a very dark, very long, tunnel. A faint breath of hope seemed to waft through the darkness. It made him think that perhaps the day would come when he'd stand in the sunlight and feel the warmth seep into his skin again, full of the joy of being alive. It seemed far away. There was a lot of unknown ground to cover between here and there. But the hope was there.

THAT FRIDAY WAS much the same as the first two up to the point where Daniel left the stage, put his guitar in its case, and walked toward the back of the room. This time he stopped at her table.

"I believe we made a date for coffee," he said. She noticed that he didn't seem so listless and withdrawn.

"I believe you're right," she smiled, getting to her feet. Her heart sang a little to know that he'd remembered. She followed him to the back of the room and stood quietly as he and James took care of their business. James greeted her with more warmth than he'd previously displayed.

She walked Daniel to his truck, waited while he stowed his guitar, and then they crossed the street together and entered the Elm Street Cafe, famous for its sticky buns. Several minutes later they were seated in a booth, gazing at each other across a small table. A waiter, obviously a University student, took their coffee orders.

"So, how was your week?" He queried.

She gave him a brief rundown, pleased that he'd asked.

"How was yours?" She felt an empathetic pang when she saw how his eyes went dull.

"I got through it. It's getting a little better all the time."

"Are you doing any writing?" She asked.

"Bits and pieces. A line here, a line there." He bent his head and looked at the table for a long moment. "I lost my muse."

"I'm sure you'll find a new one," she said, trying to do it lightly but almost certain she'd failed.

"Can we talk about something else?" He said. "This is kind of painful. Tell me about yourself."

"Not a whole lot to tell. I was born in Albuquerque and spent most of my life there. My dad teaches at the community college and mom's a housewife although in the last couple of years she's been getting into real estate."

"Siblings?"

"I have two older brothers from my dad's first marriage. Their mom died. I'm the only child my mom and dad had together. My brothers and I were never really close but they had fun with me." She looked at him with a guarded smile and gave a little shrug. "Not very exciting."

"How did you end up in Cedar City?"

"Well, to make a very long story short I came here to visit my friend Cynthia, the one you met, about three years ago. I liked it here so I stayed. How about you?"

"I was born here," he said. "I've traveled some but always came back. My grandmother died about eleven years ago and left me her house and a bit of money. That's when I really began to focus on my music."

They continued to talk. The conversation, for the most part, flowed easily and when it didn't even the silences were reasonably comfortable. Then she glanced at her watch.

"Oh, goodness," she said, "I've got to work in the morning. I didn't realize how late it was." She stood up and he followed suit, picking up the check.

"It's nice to have a friend, Melissa," he said. "Of course I've got James. And Trevor and I have been exchanging a few emails..."

"Trevor Trent!?"

He smiled at her surprise. "Yeah, I met him in Nashville several years ago and then, just recently, at the radio station and I guess I made an impression. Anyway, I was starting to say that it's different having a woman for a friend. There are a lot of things guys don't feel comfortable talking about with other guys."

"I've never really had male friends. I like Walter, you know, Cynthia's husband, but I wouldn't say we're really friends. We don't talk all that much."

"I've had a few women friends. Cathy..." Daniel's face went stiff; she could see the muscles of his jaw clenching. He turned and quickly moved to the cashier's counter and paid for their coffee. "I'm sorry," he said as he met her at the door, "It still catches me by surprise."

"It's okay, I understand," Melissa said as they pushed through the door and onto the sidewalk.

"Cathy was my best friend long before we decided to get married. I really miss her." There was a raw edge to his voice.

Melissa didn't know what to say so she touched him lightly on the arm. He turned for a brief moment and gave her a rueful smile. They walked across the street in silence.

"I've really enjoyed this," Daniel said as they approached his truck. "Jimmy thinks you're good for me," he added with a chuckle. "See you next week?"

"I'll be here," Melissa smiled. She waited until he'd climbed into his truck and started it and then with a wave headed for her car.

As she drove to her apartment she happily reviewed the events of the evening. It was clear that Daniel was beginning to come out of his shell. She did have to admit to herself, though, that she felt a twinge every time he mentioned Cathy. It was hard to fight a ghostly rival.

The next morning, before starting work, she called Cynthia and gave her the latest news.

"Maybe I was wrong," her friend said. "From what you've told me he does seem to be more alive than when I saw him." She paused. "And I have to say that you don't seem as desperate as you have been in the past."

Melissa smiled to herself and thought of the words of Daniel's song: 'I took my time and played my part till my love had healed your heart'. Those were the words she was living by now. "I like him. I like being with him," she told Cynthia. "I'm not trying to push this into any particular box. We're friends."

"That's unusual for you," Cynthia said. "I can't remember your ever just being friends with a man."

"Yeah," Melissa said, "that's what I told Daniel. Walter comes closer than anyone but it's not like we have a whole lot to say to each other."

"You could," Cynthia

interjected, "Walter thinks highly of you."

Melissa was silent. She was a little shocked to learn that Walter thought highly of her. And had told Cynthia. But what was even more amazing was the realization that her attitude toward men had somehow changed without her being aware of the shift. She could actually imagine being Walter's friend.

"Mel?" Cynthia said.

"Yeah, I'm here. You threw me for a loop there." She smiled as she listened to her friend's warm laugh. "This is the first time it's truly sunk in that on some level I don't really like men. Or didn't. Or something."

"I'd say that's progress," Cynthia said. "I don't claim to understand what's going on but I've always known there was a way you weren't giving guys much of a chance."

"Well, I'm going to have to give this some thought. Thanks for the insight."

"Anytime kiddo," Cynthia said. Melissa could almost see her grinning.

"I'll talk with you later. I've got to get to work," Melissa said.

"Later," Cynthia said as she hung up.

THAT SAME MORNING Daniel woke up with the idea for a complete song flitting through his consciousness, for the first time in many months. Before doing anything else he picked up his guitar and began searching for the chords that would best fit the melody that played in his head. Within an hour he was able to get a rough version put down on his digital recording system. It wasn't very good; he didn't have any illusions about its quality. But that didn't really matter. What was important was the fact that he was writing again. It felt wonderful.

As he made breakfast he listened to a couple of his favorite musicians, Rodney Crowell and Aaron Neville. Something else he hadn't

done for much too long a time.

For once he wasn't inclined to sit outside in his favorite chair so he opted for one in the bright sun-filled kitchen. After he'd eaten and the music had ended he continued to sit. But it was different from before. He wasn't trying to lose himself in order to hide from the pain.

He thought about his conversation with Melissa the previous evening. And about her rounded brown face, the sparkle in her dark eyes, and her vivid smile. The memory made him feel warm inside.

Running his mind over all the things they'd discussed he remembered her comment about her brothers and recalled that it had struck him at the time as an odd thing to say. And oddly familiar. But he wasn't in the mood to spend much time trying to solve the puzzle. He wanted to relive the feeling of vitality and comfort he felt when they were together.

SHE WENT TO Strange Brew, as she'd promised, the next Friday. And she and Daniel had gone out for coffee again. This became an established pattern that continued through September and into October. Neither of them suggested that they meet at any other time but, for both of them, the Friday night conversations became the high point of their week.

As they grew better acquainted they realized they were very different in a lot of ways but it didn't seem to matter. They simply liked each other. Their differences actually made the friendship more interesting.

Melissa had a sense of exploring uncharted territory. For the first time in her life she was able to be friends with a man without needing to become more involved. There were moments when she was aware of Daniel's attractiveness and felt her body respond in an almost abstract way but she never felt driven to act on her feelings. Partly because she'd vowed to take her time and play her part but also because she was aware that Daniel's emotional energy was so focused on grieving for Cathy that he wasn't available for anything more than a non-physical friendship.

But she could clearly see, as each week passed, that he was slowly moving out of the dark place he'd been in when they met. A couple of times she'd talked with James, who was also becoming something of a friend, and he'd told her how scary it had been for him to watch Daniel's almost total withdrawal after Cathy died. And how relieved he was to see Daniel beginning to recover.

Concurrently she found herself opening up with Walter. Being friends with a man was almost like having a new toy and she itched to play with it every chance she could. And, like Daniel, Walter was safe. He wasn't going to push for anything physical.

The first time had caught her by surprise. She'd gone to visit Cynthia on a Sunday afternoon in early October and they'd talked for a couple of hours, sitting in the kitchen over coffee while the two children played in the next room. She was aware that Walter was home but hadn't seen him. Then, the coffee having reached the point where nature started calling, she excused herself and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Along the way she passed Walter's little office. The door was open and he was sitting at his computer with his back to her.

"Hi," she said as she went by. He raised his hand in greeting.

On her way back she stopped and looked in. "Whatcha doing?"

"Hi Melissa," he said, swivelling his chair around. "Just doing some research on some of the mutual funds we've invested in. Gets kind of boring after awhile. How are you doing? How's Daniel?"

"Daniel's fine. I talked with him Friday. I'm fine too." There was a long moment of silence during which they gazed at each other with unfocused smiles. Before this she would have said 'well, so long' and returned to the kitchen. But remembering what Cynthia had said a month ago about Walter thinking highly of her she decided to reach out for something more. It took her a minute to work up the courage.

"Walter, do you have many women friends... besides Cynthia?" She asked.

His smile was suddenly full and warm. She had the feeling that he and Cynthia had discussed her problems with men. It made her feel exposed and cared for at the same time.

"Come in Melissa, have a seat," he said, gesturing toward a chair against the wall. "Yes, a couple of the women I work with. I wouldn't say we're real close but I do consider them to be friends. We can talk about most things."

"So you feel it's possible for men and women to be just friends?" She asked as she sat down.

"Oh, I don't know about 'just' friends. Friendship is important," he said. "Plus I've discovered with Cynthia that a man and a woman can be involved on all the other levels and still be friends. It seems to me that it's a matter of developing trust and learning to be open with each other. Which isn't always easy. So yeah, I think it's possible."

"You know, I'm thirty-six and Daniel is the first man in my life I think of as a friend. Besides you. But you and I never really talked before." She felt more than a little flustered bringing up the last part but Walter seemed unfazed.

"I've always liked you Melissa," he said with a gentle smile. "But for most of the time I've known you I've felt that there was a wall between us. I didn't know why. I still don't. I have the impression, though, that your experience with men has taught you not to trust them."

Her hands were tightly clasped together, pressing into her closed thighs. It was strange for her to realize that while the subject of the conversation was disturbing to her she felt comfortable with Walter. "Until I met you I didn't even know men like you existed," she said softly.

"And he's not the only one," a voice said from the doorway. She looked up to find Cynthia smiling at her. "I suspect that because all you expected to find were the kind of men you were familiar with you couldn't even see the ones who were different. I can't tell you how happy I am to see that changing."

"Could we talk about something else?" Melissa asked. "I think I've been psychoanalyzed enough for one day."

"Sure," Walter said with a grin. "Whatever you want to talk about. But why don't we adjourn to the kitchen where we can all have a seat. I could use a cup of coffee myself."

The three of them had discussed a variety of topics into the early evening. By the time she left Melissa felt certain that this conversation was only the first of many.