Second Chances - 4. The Past Rekindled

“Damn, I don’t believe I grabbed this.” I sat down on the bench in front of my locker, staring at the swim suit in my hand.

“What’s wrong?” Jerod glanced at me while sliding himself into his suit. “Looks like perfectly good speedo to me.”

“It is, I suppose. But I hadn’t planned on bringing a speedo in the first place and in the second place this is the one Annie got me … our last aniversary. Personally, I’ve never figured why since I had other good ones.”

“Well slip it on and let’s go. You can’t get in the water nude, dude, and I’m not letting you weasel out of the swim.”

I stood to finish dressing. “Did you really just not only say ‘dude’ but rhymed it with ‘nude’?”

He grinned. “Pretty good, huh?” He paused and stared at me. “I think I know why Annie liked those … you do pack them well.”

“I dunno know what you put in your coffee in the mornings, Jer – but I do think you should share it.”

“Don’t think you could handle it, Paul. Private blend.”

“And quit staring, you’re making me self-conscious” I grabbed my towel and held it somewhat in front of myself.

He threw his towel over a shoulder. “Can’t help it. You know what you’ve got and you know me – so there should be no real surprise here, partner.”

We laughed and headed to the pool. Our ears were assailed by the screeches of children before we rounded the final corner. We both stopped short and stared. The shallow end of the pool was filled with splashing, laughing kids with a few older teens. Sitting around the lip of the pool were young adults, assumedly parents to the giggling horde.

“Oh damn, I forgot,” he exclaimed.

“Forgot what?”

“First Saturday of the month is their ‘Toddler Swim’ thing – they teach little ones how to swim.”

“When did this start?”

“A few months ago.” He looked at me. “You really have been gone too long, you know that?”

“So now what?”

Jerod glanced at the clock behind one of the two lifeguard stations. “It only goes until ten, so in twenty minutes they clear out.” He pointed across the enclosure. “Hot tub’s open.”

I started across the room. “Sounds good. We can soak for a bit then swim.”

We dropped towels on a couple of chairs by the whirlpool. Jerod stepped over to turn on the timer dial for the jets while I slid myself into the water. I relaxed in front of a jet, sinking until my shoulders submerged, legs stretched out in front of me. Jerod had just stepped into the water when he stopped short.

“I …think I know why Annie liked that suit.”

“Huh?”

“Just a sec.” He got back out and turned off the timer on the jets.

“What did you do that for?”

“Look at yourself. I mean your suit.”

I started to stand.

“No – just look down at your suit.”

I arched a brow then glanced down at myself through the water. “Crap!” I jumped up and stumbled out of the tub, grabbing my towel. I glanced down once more before wrapping the towel around my waist.

Jerod laughed softly. “Easy man, you’ll give yourself a stroke.”

“The damn thing disappears in water! What the hell was she thinking, having me wear this?” I started looking around the room to see if anyone had noticed when I got out of the tub, particularly nervous about the younger set at the far end of the adjacent pool.

“I dunno if it ‘disappears’ but it sure comes close. I’ve never seen a suit do that before.” Jerod winked. “I bet I know a certain club clerk that would love to see it modeled.”

I felt the anger rising in my face. “Shut up, Jerod. Just … shut up.”

“Paul…”

“Shut the flip up.”

He sighed and glanced across the room. “Looks like the crowd is on its way out a little early.”

“So?” I queried. I can’t go back in the water with this thing. Damn, when I think of all the places I’ve worn this suit – No wonder I got some of the looks I’ve seen! Half surprised I was never arrested for indecent exposure.”

“Paul, chill. No one has said anything, no one paid any attention. If anything, you’re drawing attention to yourself now. Just relax already.”

I plopped myself into one of the chairs. “Jerod, what was she thinking? Why would she … expose me like that?”

“Don’t do this to yourself, man.” He replied. “You’re distraught and over-stressing this thing. Let it go. You can get rid of it and not worry about it anymore.”

I sighed and allowed myself to calm. “Sorry, Jer. That just really rattled me. You understand I am not going swimming.”

He actually laughed. “It’s ok. We’ll just postpone for next week. And to make it clear, yes – I will be picking you up next Saturday at nine in the morning to come swim.”

I smiled and nodded. “Got it. Thanks, Jer.”

My hands were still shaking after showering and getting dressed. Jerod initialed my exit for me on the logs and we walked in silence to the car. As he was starting to back out of his parking place, I chuckled then started laughing. Hard. And crying at the same time.

Jerod stopped the car. The concern on his face was etched in stone. “Are you ok?”

I struggled to catch my breath. “Yeah. I’m just … yeah, I’m cool.”

“You don’t appear ‘cool’. You look like you’re having a breakdown.”

I slowed, then broke out laughing again. I shook my head and fought to regain control, gradually calming and relaxing my breathing. “Sorry.”

“What just happened?”

“Annie’s warped sense of humor.” I chuckled again, but managed not to break into full laughter. Instead I shook and the tears began again. “I miss her so much.” I leaned my face against the coolness of the window beside me.

“I know, Paul. I know,” was all he said before putting the car in gear and heading out to take me home.

It took a few more weeks before Saturdays at the club became a natural part of my week. I looked forward to the time with Jerod, but it was the work out and swim time that truly began the trek toward ‘normality’ for me. My best friend had a sense of humor that shone like a beacon through the fog of my life, lifting my spirits and guiding me to safe harbor through the shoals of isolation I had surrounded myself with. So when the phone rang one Friday evening in late April, I figured he was simply he was checking in before our normal Saturday morning meet. Instead, he through a curve ball I was not expecting.

“Hey man, what are you up to?”

“Not much, kicking back. This week has been hell. But I’ll be ready in the morning.”

“Great, but I was thinking more of tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Jazz program at the club. Harris is in town.”

Michael Harris was an incredible jazz trumpet player. He also happened to be a winger on our rugby team back in college. The man had incredible speed and it only took one connection during practice for me to be thankful I didn’t have to oppose him on the field. Like a locomotive brick wall, if Michael ended up with the ball you could be sure it would be moving a good distance across the field. All that and a gift with the horn that could still give me goosebumps.

“It would be good to see Mike again…” I started.

“Then you’ll come. Don’t say ‘no’”.

“I don’t know. I’m not really into social gatherings. Even when Annie was alive. You know that.”

“Paul, I do know that. But we’re going to go listen to a good friend blow some heat then chill and chat later.”

“Maybe.”

“You have to come. I already left word for him we’d be there.”

“Jerod.”

“I can pick you up at seven. He won’t start playing until eight-ish.”

“Fine. Except I’ll meet you there. If it gets to be too much, I’ll come home early.” There was silence on the other end of the line. “Jerod?”

“Ok. Be there by seven-thirty so we can get a good table.”

“Alright. See you then.”

“Thanks, man. You won’t be sorry. Later.”

I hung up the phone slowly. What did I just do? Why can’t I ever tell that man ‘no’? I chuckled softly to myself. Jerod had a way of getting under my skin and moving me out of myself. I couldn’t really complain. If it hadn’t been for him, my college life would have been pretty dull. For that matter, I probably wouldn’t have met Annie. So it wasn’t really a bad thing. I hoped.

It turned out to be a great evening. Michael was as hot as ever, and, with it being a jazz program, the crowd was small and intimate. I hadn’t been in the main hall of the club for years. There were always different events in play; Annie and I had learned swing dancing there. Took some lessons in two-step as well. When I wasn’t tripping us or stepping on her toes, we actually had a lot of fun.

The room was quite large with dark oak floors throughout the room. Great acoustics, which accounted for some great live concerts. Mike’s program was certainly no exception. Jerod had secured us a table in front, off to the right so we weren’t ‘in the line of fire’ but were able to sit back and enjoy. Our vantage point gave us full view of the stage, yet being off to the side there was no one behind us so we didn’t have to worry about blocking anyone’s view.

Near the end of the program, Mike gave me the shock for the evening when he requested I join him on stage. I shot him a look of consternation but stood and walked up on the platform as he introduced me to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Paul Veroll, a good friend and an outstanding pianist.” He looked at me. “Paul, how about joining me for a number?”

“I’m more than a little rusty,” I stammered.

“It’ll come back.” He pointed at the piano. “Sit.”

I shot him another look as I moved to the keyboard. His usual player stood and shook my hand as I approached, then moved offstage as I sat on the bench. I rolled my shoulders and looked over at Michael. “E flat?” I queried.

“Go for it,” was all he said.

I took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. I closed my eyes and began to play. Slowly at first, open chording just to get a feel for the instrument. The drum player kicked in almost immediately, followed by their bass. I smiled as Mike released the first note and we were in it. Like riding a bike, the feeling and flow came back – being in the mix with such seasoned musicians was a major help. We played for five or six minutes before winding down. I stood to a loud response and bowed my head to the crowd, shook Mike’s hand, and made my way back to the table where Jerod stood, applauding.

I looked at my friend with a grin. “I should shoot you for this.”

“Hey, it wasn’t my idea. Michael did that on his own.”

“Right.”

“Truth, man. You can ask him after his last set.”

After the program, and waiting for Michael to shake a few dozen hands, the three of us were sitting at the table reminiscing when Cheryl and a few friends walked up. She kissed Mike’s cheek.

“It is so good to have you in town, Michael,” she said. “I’m glad you played for us.”

“The folks would skin me alive if I hit town and didn’t,” He replied. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks. And Paul. I’ve forgotten how well you play. You sounded great up there.”

“Thanks, Cheryl. It was fun.” I turned to Michael. “Unexpected, but fun.”

“Had to do it,” he replied. “We’ve always jammed well. I just … I just wish Annie could have been here. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here for her service.”

“Thanks.” I paused. “I understand.” I looked around the room. “I don’t see Tara. She didn’t come?” Tara was his wife of twenty-three years.

“Sore throat,” he answered. “She’ll be sorry she didn’t come when I tell her you played.”

“So Michael,” Cheryl interjected. “How long are you in town?”

“Only a couple more nights, then were headed down to Minneapolis and across. Going to land in Chicago for a couple of weeks, then swing south.”

“The life of a performer,” she laughed. “I wish I could stay, but my friends want to go out for a late bite before we call it a night.” She walked over and bent down to kiss my cheek. “Call me, Paul.”

“Ok,” I answered, more than a bit uncertain. “Maybe we could go out for dinner next week some time?”

“Perfect,” she purred. “Talk to you then. Ta, everyone.” And with that she was gone.

Michael, Jerod and I sat and talked old times until the place closed down at two in the morning. I hugged them both, promised Michael to stay in touch, then left.

Before I left the parking lot I scrounged through the car and found a CD I had made years back for when Annie and I traveled. We loved the old songs – I slid it into the box and turned it up, humming with the music as I drove. I was almost home when Helen Reddy’s voice broke through with “You And Me Against The World”. The song had been a mainstay for Annie and I – starting with the time Sara was caught with two friends stealing a car. Thirteen years old and the child was driving when they stopped her. The county had stepped in then and our uphill battle with our second child became a major effort. The song just seemed to fit at the time.

I pulled into the drive as the song was ending. After I shut everything down I sat there, tears flowing as the memories marched through at a furious pace. The trials of raising children, the years when I fought for work, the major hell dealing with the Health And Services, my affair with Cheryl – and then Annie’s untimely death. My body shook with sobs as the emotions surged. Eventually I calmed and left the vehicle, walking slowly into the empty house.

I stripped down and headed to bed, stopping at our wedding picture that hung faithfully on the wall beside our bed. I raised a shaking hand to lightly stroke her face. My voice cracked as I spoke to the greatest love I had ever known.

“Damn, I miss you girl.”