Amanda
I had already decided to keep my phone call with my mother a secret from Eliza, because I knew exactly what she would say. She’d freak out if she knew Solomon planned to come here, and she’d rage about Celeste, before giving her signature Eliza Dragonsong “you’ll-listen-to-me-because-I-know-better” glare and telling me what to do.
I hated when she did that, but I never bothered arguing with her. Arguing with any lawyer was difficult. Arguing with my sister? Impossible.
If only Solomon hadn’t heard me sing. Then everything would have been so much easier.
I mentioned as much to Charlie when we met for drinks after work at Fat Heads Saloon. Tommy hadn’t shown up yet, and I was grateful—and disappointed. But mostly grateful.
At least Charlie was happy. She munched away on nachos as the bar slowly filled with people. Being a popular spot, it was already crowded, but since Charlie knew the owner, we got seats at the bar.
I ordered an Iron City Light, and Charlie rolled her eyes at me. She’d somehow turned into an IPA kind of girl.
“How’s everything been going at work?” she asked, her mouth full of nachos.
“Good. Eliza’s office is busy, and it’s interesting…”
“But?”
I twisted my cocktail napkin. “I spoke with my mother.”
Charlie took a sip of her beer. “How much guilt did she lay on this time?”
“Oh, the usual.”
“That much, huh?”
I ordered a second beer, and another one for Charlie, too. The bar grew more crowded, and louder, as people came in after work. My gaze kept going to the door. No Tommy. Not yet. I wanted to tell Charlie about the Vegas thing, and Solomon O’Sullivan, but it didn’t seem like the right time. Also, it was kind of embarrassing.
“Is Celeste still determined to make you a star?”
She asked the question with a flutter of her lashes, and I laughed, already a little buzzed. The beer was cold, the company was great, and I was happier than I’d been in a long time. Even if Tommy still hadn’t shown up.
“She won’t settle for less. It’s what she wants.”
“What do you want, Amanda?”
“What do you mean?”
Charlie tilted her head to look at me. Instead of the braid she wore earlier for her job as an EMT, tonight her hair hung long and loose down her back in dark waves. She had on jeans and a sweater, with a puffy coat hanging on the back of her chair. I was still dressed for work, with tights, flats, a short plaid skirt, and a roomy cardigan. Charlie looked casual and sexy. I looked like Nancy Drew again. I needed to revamp my wardrobe.
“You’ve always done what your mom wanted you to do,” she said. “Celeste wants you to sing. The question is do you want to sing, or do you want to do something different with your life?”
I frowned, perplexed. “I’ve never considered doing anything else. Singing is what I do.”
“But is it who you are?” she asked.
Her words shocked me, mostly since I’d never even considered it. “I don’t know.”
She pointed at me. “You need to figure it out.”
I was thinking about what she said when a deep voice boomed from behind us. “What are you two miscreants doing here?”
We turned around to see Anthony Belfiore standing there with a smile on his handsome face. Instead of his police uniform, he wore jeans that hugged his muscular thighs and a black T-shirt that accentuated his chest. He had a nice chest. He had a nice everything. Leaner than his cousin Dario and shorter than his brother Tommy, Anthony was movie star gorgeous, in a James Dean bad boy sort of way that appealed to women everywhere, and probably to lots of men, too.
“Hi, Amanda,” he said. “You shouldn’t be hanging out with this one. She’s nothing but trouble.”
“Hey,” said Charlie with a mock scowl. “Not fair.”
He pulled her into a hug that looked more like a choke hold. “You know I love you, Charlotte. In fact, I love you so much I’m getting you both another round of drinks.”
He was gone before I could protest, heading up to the bartender. Charlie watched him go, her eyes on his butt. He did have an extremely nice butt.
I nudged her. “How long did the two of you date in high school? I can’t remember.”
She laughed. “I don’t know. Six weeks? Long enough. But it was never anything serious. He dated everyone at St. Alphonse.”
“Not everyone,” I said, before I could stop myself. “I mean, he never dated me.”
She gave me a funny look. “Of course, he didn’t. But you know why.”
I pushed my glasses up my nose. “Because I looked like a future nun?”
Charlie nearly spit out her beer. “No. Because of his brother, stupid.”
“Tommy? What do you mean?”
As soon as I said his name, Tommy appeared in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room, and his face lit up when he saw me. He smiled as he made his way over to us, and I smiled back. How could I not? He’d shown up, and he was smiling. I couldn’t believe it.
He joined us as Anthony arrived with our drinks. “Tommy,” said Anthony. “Glad you could make it.”
Anthony grabbed two barstools and squeezed them in on either side of Charlie and me. He took the one next to Charlie, which left Tommy sitting next to me, so close his thigh pressed against mine. I felt like I should say something, so I cleared my throat.
“It’s nice to see you. And Anthony. And you.”
I felt my cheeks heat up. Why was I so stupid? I took a sip of beer so I would stop talking.
He laughed. “It’s nice to see you. And Charlie. And you.”
Tommy rested his hand on the back of my chair. He smelled so good. He looked good, too. His dark curls fell across his forehead and brushed the top of his collar. His hair seemed damp, like he’d just taken a shower, and he needed a haircut. His eyes drew my attention, however. They were still the greenest green I’d ever seen. Like spring grass. Or one of those poisonous tree frogs from South America.
The idea made me choke on my drink. He patted my back. “Are you okay?”
His hand stayed on my back even though I wasn’t choking anymore. It felt like heaven. It also brought back a whole host of memories I’d tried hard to forget.
“I’m fine.” I shot him a sidelong glance and changed the subject. “Great job at Wicked Wienies today. It’s great you ended up being a firefighter. Remember the time in middle school when we set off the smoke detectors? Sister Mary Magdalena was not pleased.
He laughed. “I lit one harmless little fire to demonstrate the rules of fire safety and suddenly I was the bad guy.” He nudged me. “You were lucky. None of the nuns ever got mad at you. All you had to do was sing for them.”
“Not true.”
“Oh yes, it is,” said Charlie.
Anthony agreed as well. “Those nuns were putty in your hands. You ruled our school.”
“What are you guys talking about? I was a nothing. A nobody. Invisible. Yes, I could sing, but I hardly call it ruling the school.”
They all stared at me, in a stunned sort of silence. Anthony looked at Charlie. “She’s joking, right?”
Charlie studied my face, as if trying to work out a puzzle. “I don’t think she is.”
“Well, you’re wrong,” said Tommy. “Everyone loved you, and not only because you could sing.”
I gaped at him, momentarily rendered speechless. “Uh, thank you…?”
“Hey, Tom-tom.” A sultry voice from behind us made me turn around. Becky Bowser, in all her blonde, perfect, former-captain-of-the-cheer-squad-and-also-prom-queen glory, stood right next to us. She was as beautiful as I’d remembered, with her perfectly straight hair, porcelain skin, and big blue eyes. A flash of recognition filled those eyes as soon as she saw me. She recovered quickly and burst out laughing, a hollow, jarring sound. “No way. Amanda Dragonsong. You have not changed a bit. You’re even wearing the old school uniform.”
Becky put a way too familiar arm around Tommy and whispered something in his ear. She had on a low-cut red blouse and matching red lipstick. She looked gorgeous, and she was right, I was exactly the same.
“Hi, Becky.” I forced a smile onto my lips, tugging self-consciously on my oversized sweater. Reacting to her always made the problem so much worse.
“Tommy, you were supposed to call me yesterday,” she said with a flutter of her eyelashes as her hand wandered down his arm.
Her voice was a husky whisper, but I heard it clearly, mostly because I still sat so close to Tommy. I also caught a whiff of Becky’s perfume, as she flicked her hair over her shoulder. As much as I despised her, I had to admit she smelled almost as good as Tommy. Maybe it was a thing with beautiful people. Maybe they all smelled as nice as they looked.
“Sorry. I’ve been busy,” he said, his cheeks tinged with pink.
“Really? Too busy to call?”
“Yes.”
Space had opened up next to Tommy, but he didn’t move away from me. In fact, he moved closer.
Becky seemed perplexed. I was perplexed myself. She frowned at him. “But Tommy—"
“Crawl back under your rock, you reptile,” muttered Charlie.
Becky lifted one perfectly arched eyebrow. “Excuse me?” Her gaze went to Anthony, and she narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to let her talk like that to me, Anthony? Or are you just going to sit there?”
“I’m just going to sit here, Becky. Charlie can say whatever she wants. If it bothers you, you’re free to leave.” He took a long swig of his beer, never once looking at Becky. I vaguely remembered they’d dated for a long time in high school and it hadn’t ended well.
“Anthony, you’re such a—”
Becky’s words were cut off when loud music boomed over the speakers, and a man in jeans and a flannel shirt jumped onto the small stage in the back of the bar. He spoke into a microphone, as a spotlight shone down on him.
“It’s time for Tuesday night karaoke,” he said, and the crowd cheered. “This week we’re doing songs from famous musicals, and the winner gets all-you-can-eat nachos for an entire month. Are you ready?”
“Nachos?” Charlie grabbed my stool and spun me around so fast I nearly fell off. “Please, Amanda.”
“Please what?”
She pointed to the stage. “Go. You have to do this.”
Becky shot me a dirty look. “Don’t bother, Amanda. You’ve already lost.” Plastering a bright smile on her face, she lifted her hand into the air and shouted, “I’m ready,” before running toward the stage. The crowd parted and clapped for her, cheering her on. She preened as she climbed onto the raised platform.
Charlie rolled her eyes. “Oh, great. It’s the Becky Bowser show.”
Becky waved at the crowd like she was Miss America. She kind of looked like Miss America. Or maybe a psycho Barbie doll.
“Okay, we have one contestant,” said the host. “How about another?”
Charlie begged. “Free nachos. For a month. I’ll get you another T-shirt. A really cool one. Please. I need this.”
“She does,” said Anthony. “And you should do this for her. She’s your best friend.” He grabbed my hand and hauled me to my feet.
I dug in my heels. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“You can, and you will,” said Charlie. “Show Becky who’s boss…and score me some nachos. You’ve got this.” She pushed me from behind as Anthony pulled. I looked at Tommy for help, but he just grinned.
“Sorry,” he said, lifting his beer to me. “I love to hear you sing. I’m not going to stop them.”
“Do we have a second contestant?” asked the host, shading his eyes with one hand as he squinted out into the crowd. “Does anyone else want to sing tonight?”
Charlie and Anthony, two of the loudest people in Pittsburgh, shouted at the same time. “She does.”
The spotlight flew around the room until it landed on my face. There was an awkward silence. I forced myself to stand taller and pushed my glasses back up my nose as everyone stared at me.
“What’s your name, hon?” asked the host, squinting as he tried to see me.
“Amanda Dragonsong,” yelled Charlie.
The crowd applauded politely, and I gave a weak wave. “I am going to kill you for this, Charlie. You, too, Anthony.”
“You’d never kill Anthony,” said Charlie. “He’s a police officer, and you have way too much respect for the law. Now go win me some nachos, baby. And show that evil wench Becky Bowser who’s boss.”
Charlie clapped her hands, bouncing up and down as I got onto the stage. Becky somehow managed to keep the fake smile on her face. “I’m going to crush you,” she said, through clenched teeth.
I didn’t respond. I straightened my wool skirt and saw some pitying glances from people in the audience. Becky fluffed her hair and stuck out her boobs. She wore red pumps that matched her shirt, and jeans so tight they seemed painted on, but she looked beautiful. As always. Standing next to Becky, I looked pathetic. The audience took in my curly hair and Nancy Drew clothes, and I could tell they were laughing at me, thinking I was going to embarrass myself. They were wrong, but as I watched them stare at me and judge, I decided at that moment that things were going to change. I was done being the girl in dowdy clothes. They were a defense, a way of hiding, but I wasn’t going to wear them anymore.
I was also done being the girl who let her mom and dad and even her sister boss her around. Yes, I was still the girl who let her best friend push her onstage to perform for strangers, but that was something different. Nachos meant a great deal to Charlie.
“You’ve got this, Amanda,” shouted Tommy from the front row. He lifted his beer to me. Becky gave him a look that could have turned someone to stone, but he never even glanced her way. Maybe he was mad at her. This would, after all, be the ultimate punishment. For him to flirt with a girl like me right in front of a girl like her. It was a joke.
As I stared at his beautiful face, I decided to stop being the girl who never thought she was good enough for someone like Tommy. He was perfect, and I was not, but it didn’t mean I didn’t deserve someone just as kind and sincere and good smelling.
Was that even a word? Maybe I was drunker than I realized. I tried to pay attention when the host spoke.
“You know the rules people,” he said.
“I don’t know the rules,” I said, and everyone laughed.
“For Amanda’s sake, I’ll explain. Do you see these cards?” he asked, and I nodded. “On each of them is the title of a song. You have to sing whichever one is chosen. Don’t worry if you don’t know the words. They’ll be on the screen.” He pointed to the large, white screen behind me. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
I picked one of the cards from his hand. When I read the title, I groaned. This was bad. Sad songs were always dangerous. Almost as dangerous as love songs.
“Both of the songs are from Grease, ladies and gentlemen, our musical of the night. Which one of you lovely ladies would like to go first?”
Becky raised her hand. “I would.”
“Okay. The beautiful Becky. Let’s get this contest started. May the best singer win.”
Becky sang “Look at Me, I’m Sandra Dee.” She sounded great and acted it out brilliantly. People laughed when she turned me into a prop, pretending I was the pitiful virgin mentioned in the song. It wasn’t kind, but Becky had never been known for her kindness. Even so, the audience ate it up.
I glanced out into the crowd. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but it felt like it was at my expense. Well, everyone except Tommy, Anthony, and Charlie. Tommy and Anthony had their arms folded across their broad chests, and they frowned. Charlie shot a death glare at Becky, but Becky didn’t respond. The crowd enjoyed her little act, and she wiggled and danced and sang her heart out.
When she finished, I applauded for her along with the rest of the crowd. She walked up to me, a snarky smile on her face, and handed me the microphone. “Beat that, Dragon Breath.”
Ah. The return of my old nickname. Now the evening was complete. The host gave me a sympathetic look as Becky waved and flounced to the corner of the stage.
He covered the microphone with one hand. “Don’t worry. They’re all half-drunk anyway. You’ll be fine.”
“Great. Thanks.” I gave him a big thumbs up. “And now I’m going to make all these nice people cry,” I said the words under my breath, but the host gave me a quizzical look.
“Come again?”
“Nothing. Let’s do this.”
As the strains of “Hopelessly Devoted to You” filled the air, I didn’t need to look at the screen. I knew the words by heart. And I didn’t mean to stare right at Tommy as I sang, but I couldn’t help it. First of all, he stood right there. Secondly, he was ridiculously tall. Thirdly, the song fit how I felt about him, and vocalized lots of things I’d never been brave enough to say.
As the words of the song flowed out of me, tinged with heartbreak and love and sad acceptance, the bar grew silent. Everyone stood, drinks in hand, staring at me.
It didn’t take long for it to happen. It started with a few sniffles from people in the crowd, followed by a little sigh. The host was the first one to all-out weep. He leaned on an annoyed looking Becky, sobbing all over her pretty red blouse.
I turned away from Becky’s angry face, a satisfied smile curving on my lips as I sang. By the second refrain, everyone in the bar was crying except Tommy. He stood there, watching me, his beautiful eyes locked on my face.
When I finished, and the last few notes of music faded away, no one moved. At first, the only sound was residual sniffling, followed by a mournful wail echoing across the room. The burly bartender, a giant guy covered in tattoos was ugly crying.
“Thank you.” I held out the microphone for the host and everyone seemed to come out of their stupor. The applause was deafening. The host pulled me into a long and slightly awkward hug as he sobbed on my shoulder.
Becky sent me a hate-filled look, but even she had tears on her cheeks, and I had to admit I felt kind of bad for her. Yes, she was a total bitch, but it would have been hard going to school with me. She had a great voice, and at any other school, she would have been the star. In our school, she was the prettiest and the most popular. She was homecoming queen and prom queen and cheer captain and voted “most beautiful” in our yearbook. She had it all, except for one thing. She wanted to be the best singer, and I stole it from her every single time.
She slipped out the back door of the bar as the host continued to weep. I patted his back, sending a pleading look at Tommy, who came around the side of the stage and waited there to rescue me.
The host wiped at the tears coursing down his cheeks as he finally backed away. He seemed to have forgotten about Becky, as had the rest of the crowd.
“Amazing. You win, Amanda. You win everything. Instead of a month, she deserves free nachos for a year. Don’t you all agree?”
The people in the bar cheered, lifting their glasses to me. I grinned at them, but I knew I should make my escape. The small stairway to the stage was already blocked by people who wanted to hug me and possibly cry on me, like the host had. Tommy came closer and waved me over to the edge of the stage near the back door.
“I’ll help you down,” he said.
He held out his arms and lifted me off the stage as if I weighed nothing. Then he took me firmly by the hand and we snuck out the back. Charlie and Anthony joined us there. Charlie’s eyes were red and a little swollen from crying, but she handed me my coat with a grin.
“Free nachos for a year. Thank you, my friend. It was even worth this,” she said, indicating her face. “I hate it when you make me cry.”
“Me, too,” said Anthony, still looking somewhat shaken.
“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly, as Tommy helped me into my coat.
“You got me right in the feels,” said Anthony.
“She got Becky in the feels, too. Did you see her storm out?” Charlie slapped her leg. “That was awesome.”
“I felt kind of bad for her,” I said.
Tommy and Anthony didn’t say anything. They exchanged an awkward look. Charlie wrinkled her nose.
“She deserved it.”
Anthony shoved his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m off tomorrow and I’m in the mood to drink. Let’s do shots.”
Charlie gave him a high five. “Whoever gets drunk first pays.”
“No way. I fell for that last time,” said Anthony with a shake of his head. “We all know you can drink me under the table. Stop trying to take advantage of the situation.”
Anthony put a friendly arm around her shoulders. He and Tommy resembled each other, but Anthony’s eyes were brown, and his hair was straight. He was a police officer with the South Side Police Department, and the biggest heartbreaker in the history of St. Alphonse.
I took a look at my watch. “I have to work tomorrow. I should head home.” I handed Charlie the free nachos card and she kissed it. Then she kissed me loudly on the cheek.
“I’ll go with you,” she said. “I can drink with Anthony any time.”
Before I could protest, Tommy spoke. “I’ll take Amanda home,” he said. “My truck is right there. You guys go and have fun.”
He pulled out his keys and the headlights flashed. His truck was only half a block away. He gave Anthony a meaningful look, and Charlie eyed them curiously.
“Okay,” she said. “I guess I’m getting drunk with Anthony. Famous last words. See you later, Amanda.”
I frowned, confused. When she pulled me into a hug, I spoke through gritted teeth. “What are you doing?”
“I’m doing you a favor. Trust me.” She whispered the words into my ear before waving goodbye. I watched them go, unsure about what to do. Apparently, I had no choice.
“Shall we?” asked Tommy, tilting his head to indicate his truck.
We walked side by side in silence, our arms brushing. A chilly wind rushed through the alleyway, and I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. We climbed into his truck, and as we drove out of the South Side, an oddly uncomfortable silence stretched between us. I struggled to come up with something to say.
“I think it’s going to snow.”
The weather? Really? What should I discuss next? The latest sale on chipped ham at Giant Eagle?
Tommy didn’t seem bothered. “Not yet, but I love the first snow of the year. It’s…”
“Magical?”
He turned and smiled at me. “Exactly.”
“I missed snow when I was in California.”
“What else did you miss?” he asked.
You.
It was the first thing that popped into my head. Thankfully, I didn’t say it out loud.
“Oh, you know. The usual things. Pierogis. The three rivers. Steeler games.”
“You like the Steelers?”
“Not really, but I missed them anyway.”
He laughed but seemed distracted. “Amanda, I need to talk to you about what happened back there at the bar,” he said, his eyes on the road.
“What?” I feigned ignorance, hoping he’d fall for it. “Do you mean about Becky? I’m sorry I upset her.”
“No. This is not about Becky,” he said. “You made a room full of people cry by singing. You made Griffin the bartender cry so hard, he had to go to the restroom in order to compose himself. Griffin is not a crier.”
I remembered the burly, bearded bartender. Tommy was right. He didn’t look like a crier.
“Maybe they just liked that song.”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “You used to make the nuns cry, too.”
“Well, they had a soft spot for certain hymns, and, oddly enough, several dance tunes. It’s a mystery, but it’s normal for nuns, I guess.”
“What you have isn’t normal, but I’m not sure what it is.”
I stared at his profile in the semi-darkness. “Tell me, Mr. Belfiore, why didn’t you cry?”
We were at a red light, and only a few blocks from my house. When Tommy looked at me, his expression was unreadable. “I don’t know. The song was beautiful, and I felt all the emotions of it, but it didn’t make me cry. Maybe because…”
His voice faded, and the light turned green. When he didn’t continue, I prodded him. “Because what?” I asked as he pulled into my driveway.
He put the truck into park and turned in his seat to look at me. “Because as much as I love your voice, I wasn’t thinking about the song. I was thinking about you.”
His greener than green eyes focused on my lips, and, for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. Not good. I was about to embarrass myself. Again.
I reached for the door. “Thanks for the ride. I’m sorry you had to do this two days in a row. I know you aren’t a taxi service. I didn’t mean to take advantage or anything.”
Tommy jumped out and ran around the truck to open the door for me, his expression worried. “Hold on. Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Of course not. But you should make sure Becky is okay. She seemed pretty upset.”
“Becky?” he asked, frowning in confusion.
“Aren’t you dating?”
He shook his head. “Why would you say that?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
I turned to walk to the door and was caught unaware when Tommy took me gently by the arm and pulled me toward him. I could blame the fact that I immediately melted against him on being surprised by his gesture, but it wasn’t true. I clung to him because I couldn’t help it. It felt good. It felt right. And when he leaned forward and touched my forehead with his, we were so close it felt like we breathed as one.
“I don’t understand what’s happening here, but we’re going to talk soon,” he said. “I want to know what’s going on, and I also want to know what happened five years ago.”
“Five and a half,” I said automatically.
He kissed me, his lips warm and sweet, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself. I didn’t pull away. I couldn’t. I’d missed him too much.
“Yes, five and a half,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m glad you remembered that much at least.”
Before I could ask him what he meant, and why he kissed me, and what the heck was going on between him and Becky Bowser, he got back into his truck and drove away. I stood for a long time, staring after him, because I didn’t understand what was happening here either.