CHAPTER TWO
Alan could hardly believe it when the angel he’d literally almost tripped over made her way to the stage. She was one of the musicians. Part of the band his buddies had raved over and the reason they’d chosen to come to The Rose tonight, his first night back on Long Island after a long overseas deployment.
He’d been on his way to the bar to get the first round when the little pixie with dark auburn hair had run into him. As he made his way to the bar, following bemusedly in her fast footsteps, his mind was tracing out the possibilities. She hadn’t been wearing a wedding ring, though that didn’t mean she wasn’t involved with someone. Maybe even one of the guys in her band. But if she was single and unattached…Would she consider taking a risk on a world-weary soldier? Alan certainly hoped so.
She was already stepping onto the low bandstand by the time Alan made it to the bar. The bartender smiled at him and took his order, being sure to say that Alan’s drink was on the house, courtesy of the lady. Alan felt like he was getting a definite once-over by the barman, but he paid it no mind. If the staff was protective of the woman, so much the better. It meant she had people looking out for her, which Alan thought was always a good thing in this day and age.
Alan watched her through the night from his table in the corner, where he was surrounded by friends he hadn’t seen in far too long. The drinks kept coming, though Alan wasn’t one to drink to excess. He’d done all that as a teenager and was through acting the fool. Tonight was all about reuniting with his old crowd, learning what everyone was up to and sharing a great meal with fantastic music as the backdrop.
The noise level in the pub dipped when the band was playing and rose on the breaks. The band started off with a set of traditional Irish tunes, getting things started with a lively instrumental jig. The energy was high, and they held it throughout the first half of the set, engaging the appreciative audience. A few folks even got up and danced on the postage-stamp-sized dance floor in front of the stage.
All the members of the band took turns singing, but when the pretty woman he’d bumped into earlier took the mic, Alan was entranced. She had a sweet, pure tone, not a high soprano like the other woman in the band, but a deep, rich alto that send warm waves of appreciation through him.
His high school friend, Dylan, seated next to him, nudged him with an elbow.
“She’s not for you, Alan,” Dylan warned, gesturing with his beer bottle toward the stage. Dylan was a bit drunker than the rest of them, but it seemed he was more observant than the others, too.
“Who?” Alan tried for innocence, but it was clear from one look at Dylan’s face that he wasn’t buying it. “All right. Why not?”
“Tragedy,” Dylan said mysteriously. “That band isn’t all roses and rainbows. They’ve had tragedy recently, and for that girl, it was double. She lost her mother last Christmas and then her best friend, just a few weeks ago. The friend was the lead singer of the band. We’re all surprised they’re still performing without her, but they’re good enough on their own. With the dead girl, they were even better, but they’re learning how to go on without her.”
“Who was she?” Alan was intrigued by the story.
“Mary Kilkoyne,” Dylan answered after taking another long swig of his bottle. “I was a bit sweet on her myself—from afar, of course. She had lots of admirers, and a right bastard of an ex-husband. The lady drank a bit too much, we could all see, but nobody ever expected her to collide with a tree early one morning.”
“She was drunk at the time?” Alan frowned. That was a lousy way to go. He wondered what demons that poor woman had suffered to turn to the bottle so hard that she was drunk in the cold light of day.
Alan understood about demons. He’d battled his fair share. And he knew all about loss. He’d suffered the loss of enough of his Navy buddies to never want to feel that pain again, even though he was philosophical enough to realize that loss was a part of living.
“Plastered,” Dylan confirmed. “Kyle responded to the scene of the accident.” Dylan pointed to another of their group, seated on the far side of the table. Kyle had retired from the military after his last tour and settled into his new job as a county police officer. “Said she died on impact, so at least she didn’t suffer. We come down to the pub most weeks for dinner and to hear this band, so Kyle told us a bit about what he saw. He recognized her, even though the car’s airbag had broken her nose in the crash. It was the low-hanging oak branch through her chest that killed her quick.”
“Ouch.” Alan had seen worse after roadside bombs went off. He could very well picture the scene.
He raised his beer bottle in silent salute to the poor young woman whose life had ended so painfully. He hadn’t known her, but he thought maybe he understood the mournful undercurrent in the band’s music now, after hearing of their recent loss.
Since it was so close to Christmas, the band threw in a holiday tune every once in a while, including a mash-up of a bunch of different carols with a rock n’ roll flair. Alan was impressed with their musicianship and ability to take requests on the fly.
He was at the bar, buying another round, when the band took their first break of the night, and he lingered when he saw the woman he’d run into before heading his way. She smiled as she joined him at the end of the bar. It was busy enough that he’d have to wait a bit for the order he’d just placed, but the bartender saw the woman and came right over with a cold bottle of water for her fresh from the cooler.
She took a sip before turning to him.
“So, what did you think?”
“Of the band?” he asked, caught a bit off guard by her direct question. Based on their earlier encounter, he’d expected her to be shy.
She nodded. “The band. The musical selection. The food. The pub, in general.” She gestured with her water bottle. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Thumbs up to all concerned, and you haven’t seen me here because I haven’t been here. I haven’t been in the States for more than a year. I just got home from a stint in the Middle East.” He wasn’t usually so forthcoming with personal information, but something about her made him want to open up. Dangerous. This woman could very easily get under his skin.
“You’re a soldier?” she asked, her expression going serious.
“Navy,” he replied, tempted to say more, but some of his usual caution reasserted itself.
“My grandad was in the Navy in World War Two,” she answered. “He has some great stories to tell.”
“They truly were the greatest generation,” he agreed. “I’d love to talk to him sometime.”
She looked at him out of the corner of her eye as if appraising him, then nodded. “I think he’d like that.” She held out her hand in a businesslike manner. “Eileen Murphy,” she introduced herself.
He took her hand, pleased by her strong, no-nonsense grip. “Alan Fraser.” They shook hands, and he was reluctant to let her go.
“Well, Alan Fraser, what’s your favorite Christmas song?” A playful glint lit her pretty green eyes. She wasn’t a flashy sort of woman, but she sparkled in her own unique way.
“It’s a little obscure,” he warned.
“Hit me with the title. I bet I know it,” she teased.
“I think the official title is something like ‘Please Come Home for Christmas’. The version I know was sung by—”
“Don Henley!” she cut him off with exactly the words he was about to say. She grinned happily. “That’s one of my favorites, too. Nice and bluesy. A little sad, though. I’ll try to fit it into the next set for you.”
“Oh.” He was surprised by her offer, though he probably shouldn’t have been, considering she was in the band. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
“Only three weeks to the big day,” she said. “I have to make the most of the Christmas songs while we can play them. It’ll be back to our regular stuff soon enough.”
“Your band seems to have quite a following,” he said, hoping to keep the conversation flowing.
A wistful look crossed her delicate features. “They’re not really here for us. It’s more about the lead singer we just lost.”
“I heard, and I’m very sorry for your loss,” he said. “I know how it is to lose someone suddenly. I’ve lost a few friends overseas.”
She looked at him with dawning understanding in her gaze. “We didn’t lose her to enemy action, but I guess the sudden change in circumstances is similar. For what it’s worth, you have my sympathy on the loss of your friends, and my deepest respect for your service.”
He nodded in acknowledgment of her words. It always made him a little uncomfortable when someone thanked him for doing the job he loved. Uncomfortable and proud at the same time. Alan privately thought it was his honor to serve the country he loved so much.
Of course, his most recent stint was nearly over. He wasn’t sure yet if he was going to re-up for another tour or stay home for good this time. He had a few days to think about it, but he’d have to make his decision before Christmas. It was a question that weighed heavily on his mind.
Alan realized he must’ve stayed silent too long. The lovely woman next to him began to fidget as he gazed at her, but he couldn’t help himself. She was gorgeous.
The rest of the band was getting ready for the next set, and he saw her look over. He sensed she was about to take her leave, and he looked for some excuse to keep her there, talking with him, but he couldn’t come up with anything plausible. Nothing came to mind to stop her from picking up her water bottle and heading back to the small stage, giving him a quick smile as she left.
In the middle of the next set, Eileen put aside her guitar and took a seat behind the keyboard. Alan had kept watch on her throughout the night, and this was the first time she’d opted to play the piano. He wondered what would come next, and then, she began playing the distinctive intro to the song he’d requested.
A smile stretched his face as she launched into the bluesy tune he remembered from Christmases past. A woman of many talents, she was showing off some serious skills on the keyboard as she let loose with the vocals, the rest of the band backing her perfectly. Her version was spot on, as far as he was concerned, and her voice entranced him.
Alan didn’t get another chance to talk to the songstress, but he was sure to leave a hundred dollar bill in her tip jar before his group left. He would’ve liked to have stayed to the end of the band’s performance, but tonight was supposed to be about reconnecting with his old friends. They wanted to move on to play pool in the hall they used to go to when they were younger, and he couldn’t really come up with a good excuse to send them on without him. They had organized this evening just for him. The least he could do was be there for it.
*
“If he was really interested in her, he would’ve stayed,” the young spirit observed with a sniff, watching the handsome man leave the pub.
“Give the boy time. He’s got a lot on his plate, and he’s juggling the best he can,” the angel replied.
“That ain’t no boy,” the sassy spirit said. “If I was still down there, I’d go for him myself.”
“I know.” The angel’s voice was rich with disapproval.
*
Eileen watched the group of handsome men leave about midway through her second set. The band had been contracted to perform three sets, as usual, so it would be a while before they could go home.
She had smiled at Alan when he’d approached the bandstand, a bill hidden in his hand. He’d placed it gently in the tip jar kept right in front of her station on the platform. He’d returned her smile before he’d left, shrugging in a way that made her think he’d wanted to stay but couldn’t.
Leaning down to check her amp plug a few minutes after his group had left, she was shocked to find the folded bill had an extra zero. Pay must be really good in the Navy these days. Either that or he really loved that song she’d played for him. Either way, she was floored by his generosity. She didn’t often see hundreds in her tip jar.
Alan Fraser was a class act all the way, and she wondered idly if she’d ever see him again. Not that she expected hundred-dollar tips all the time, but aside from the money, he’d intrigued her. He was the first person she’d talked to who seemed to accept her sparse words about Mary and didn’t push her to say more. He seemed to understand exactly where she was coming from. Like he’d been where she was and knew what it was like.
She supposed he had been. Nobody really seemed to understand loss unless they’d been through it themselves, and each loss hurt in a different way, she was learning. Losing her mother had been devastating. Losing Mary was equally devastating but the pain was different.
Mom had lived a full life and had died too soon, but having had a happy family and complete experience on this earth. Mary had died tragically, her life unlived, her few days filled with sorrow and pain. Her marriage had killed her, in the end. Choosing the wrong man had been the beginning of the downward spiral that had finally ended in a fiery crash on a lonely road.
It was a heartbreak different from the one Eileen still felt when she thought about her mother, but just as sad. Perhaps even more so for the opportunities lost. Mary had been so full of life and talent. She’d barely begun to live before dying.
And she’d taken the sparkle of the band that was her showcase with her. Try as she might, Eileen just couldn’t do the same glitz and glamour Mary had put on so easily. Eileen was a simpler person with a simpler style. And it was damned hard trying to smile and entertain when her heart was broken and still bleeding.
Eileen knew she had to reinvent the band, somehow, because they couldn’t go on doing the same material Mary had excelled at. The glitzy approach didn’t fit any of the talent they had left, and it would be really hard to try to replace Mary with another musician of the same type. For one thing, it wouldn’t feel right. For another, Mary had been the real deal. She’d had perfect pitch and could pick up pretty much any tune in a matter of minutes, where the rest of them had to work at it a little.
Plus, they liked the band the way it was. They’d ironed out all their personality quirks early on and got along great, which was a blessing when spending so much time together under such intense scrutiny. They didn’t need to throw a new member into the mix. They just needed to figure out where they went from here, without Mary’s glamorous personality driving their direction.
Playing that bluesy Christmas song had felt really good tonight, Eileen reflected. It was a song Mary never would have done. It didn’t fit her sunny persona, but it had felt right at home for Eileen. Maybe she needed to go more in that direction. Lord knew, the band had suffered enough these past few weeks to play the blues with conviction.
Eileen resolved to ask the rest of the band about it on the next break.