I hadn’t heard my best friend on the drums in years, and he played that song with enthusiasm, whipping us all into a frenzy. He was magnificent, damn him. When it was over, the cheering was deafening, and a sweaty, happy Beebub took a bow.
His eye caught mine, and though his smile faded, his gaze was intense, holding steady as the float moveddown the road. I swallowed and rubbed the back of my neck, knowing what my heart wanted, but afraid all the same. If I let him in, and he broke my heart again, I didn’t know if I would survive.
* * * *
At the beginning of May, I was at home on a Sunday afternoon when Marlene called.
“Hey, what’s up?” I greeted as I loaded the dishwasher with one hand.
“Can you come over in ten minutes? I need help with something.” She was whispering for some reason.
“Sure.” I hung up. Maybe Beebub was out of town on business? It didn’t matter. I would do anything for Marlene.