You forgot to catch me

“I wrote a song for you.”

I stared at him silently, disbelieving what I had heard. Surely I had heard wrong. He hadn’t written a song for me. He hadn’t known me that long. Perhaps I had imagined he’d said that. It wouldn’t be the first time my mind had played tricks on my feeble heart. When my mum had first told me about my dad I used to sit at the top of my stairs…everyday at 6.00 pm imagining him walking through the door, wearily hanging up his blazer even though my mum used to moan about it claiming that it wasn’t a coat so it should be hung up in the wardrobe and not on the coat rack…and then he’d kick off his shoes by the door and lazily open his arms for me to run into just like he always did but as soon as he did he faded again and I’d be sitting in an empty hallway…waiting. Waiting until it was dinnertime before I finally got up. Looking back it was a stupid thing to do. I knew he’d never come back. Mum had told me straight out…no amount of wishing would bring him back to us. He was needed somewhere else. And I believed her…but that didn’t stop me from hoping that one day he’d be allowed back. I was only 10 then and although the situation with Nick was different I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had made all of this up.

Snapping out of it, I narrowed my eyebrows and turned back towards the sink, letting my eyes look anywhere but at him as I tried to re-focus my mind. I didn’t want to think too much about my dad…I don’t think crying was the reaction he expected. After a few more seconds of silence I risked glancing at him but as I expected his gaze hadn’t moved an inch. He reached out and gently rested his fingertips on my arm as if to comfort me without actually knowing what was wrong. “You wrote a song for me” I stated waiting for his expression to change but he just continued staring at me. He might have been trying to read me but I was too distracted by our proximity to find out…he was so close…I could just lean forward and…then suddenly I felt a surge of exhilaration run course through my body. Throwing all of what was left of my sanity out the window I launched myself at him and in one swift movement wound my arms tightly around his neck. In response Nick wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me closer into our embrace till I could feel the muscles beneath his shirt and the harsh beating of his heart against me. “I don’t know what made me do that,” I whispered softly leaning back slightly so that I could look at him properly but his arms were locked around me. “I guess I’m just…” my mind began to conjure up a list of adjectives and emotions such as thrilled, excited and grateful but none of them seemed to fit right. “Amazed…” the word seemed to roll off my tongue before I had time to think about it but it didn’t matter. It was just the word I was looking for because I was amazed. Amazed that someone like him hadn’t walked away from me from day one. Amazed that he’d stuck by me. Amazed he was here now…smiling at me. “That you would take the time to work on a song for me…”

Nick frowned and cocked one of his eyebrows upwards. “Nobody’s ever done that for you before? Is that what you were gonna’ say?” He teased scuffing his black converse against the counter.

“Actually…no…” I found myself saying picking up one of the dishes on the side and dipping it, hesitantly, into the water in the sink. “My dad used to write songs for me. They were silly songs though…nothing serious…they were usually songs to entertain me or to get me to sleep…he used to say that he’d teach me how to play one day…” as I neared the end of my sentence I felt the oxygen sticking to my throat until no more words would come out of my mouth.
“Why’d he stop?” He asked, not noticing my change in mood. Without looking at him I could tell he was grinning at me – for someone who wrote such observant lyrics he was completely oblivious to the fact that I wanted to change the subject.

“Cause he died five years ago before he got the chance…” I answered automatically not allowing myself to lose focus of the dishes. Taking hold of the cloth hanging on the oven handle I dunked the plate into the water and scrubbed violently. “But I’m okay with it…it’s been five years…” I added hastily pushing a false smile onto my lips hoping that it would convince him though Penny had pointed out on various occasions that no matter how much I pretended I was like an open book. “But I’d also appreciate it if we didn’t talk about it anymore…you wrote me a song…”

Either he didn’t know what to say or he was eager to show me the song as he immediately dropped the subject. “I know you’re thinking that I’m being really forward right now…” Quickly I snapped my head up to look at him. “And I am but I think you need to hear this. It’s not a love song. I’m not about to get down on one knee and declare my love for you or anything. But I wanted something to show you how much I’ve enjoyed meeting you Caitlin and I couldn’t think of any other way to show that to you…” It was strange how fast he could raise my spirits. Replacing my fake smile with a real one I nodded, unsure of how to reply without launching myself at him again.

“Here goes…” he murmured running his fingers along the guitar strings, finding the right chords he began to strum. Little by little I could hear a sweet tune coming together and becoming a melody. But then he did something I didn’t expect – he sang.

“I’m good at wasting time.
I think lyrics need to rhyme
And you’re not asking, but I’m trying to grow a moustache…” as soon as the sentence passed his lips I felt the plate slide from my grip and hit the ground with a deafening crash.