Adrian’s smile widened. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll be fine.” He checked his wristwatch. “Have you had dinner? I was just about to throw a burger on the barbecue. I can easily make two.”
She splayed her hands on her queasy stomach. “I don’t know. I’m not sure how I feel. I don’t even know why I’m here. I’m sorry to interrupt your dinner. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Adrian stepped back and extended one arm in the direction of his kitchen. “You’re always invited. If you really don’t want a burger, then the least I can do is offer you a cup of coffee.”
Celeste followed him through the kitchen to his back patio, where his propane barbecue was heating up. He directed her to sit in one of the lawn chairs, then disappeared back into the kitchen. The microwave beeped while she waited. When he returned, he carried both a cup of coffee and a plate with two hamburger patties, both defrosted. As he placed both burgers on the grill, he peeked over his shoulder at her. “Just in case you change your mind.”
Celeste’s heart sped up to double time. If only she’d met someone like him eight years ago.
Adrian poked at the patties with his spatula. “I think I speak for all of the guys when I say that I can hardly wait until Sunday when you’ll be with us.”
“You don’t mean this Sunday? You mean next week, right?” She thought back to her previous experiences. Whenever she had performed without having practiced with the rest of the band, their audience had been too drunk to notice a few misplayed notes. This was different. Not only would everyone listening be thinking clearly, this was for God, and she wanted to do her best.
Completely serious, Adrian turned around. “I got an e-mail from Randy this afternoon, asking if I’d heard from you. He’s already planned some new settings he’s going to try. He fully intends to be in the sound room, not at the front, playing.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
Adrian shrugged his shoulders. “If it makes you feel any better, I phoned Paul after I read Randy’s e-mail. He was really impressed with what you did yesterday. He’s very excited about how we’re going to sound with a good pianist. Frankly, we can’t possibly be any worse. He said running through everything when we’re setting up Sunday morning will be enough. But if you’re nervous, I can go over the songs with you this evening. It’s not the same, but it’s better than nothing.”
“I wanted to set my standards high. If you’re willing to take the time, then I’d really appreciate it.”
Adrian gave the burgers a flip. “Great. These are almost done. If you’ve hungry, come into the kitchen, and we can fix the buns. I left the other stuff inside because of the bugs.”
A sudden breeze sent the aroma of the mouth-watering burgers into her face. Her stomach grumbled. “That smells so good… But I don’t know…”
Adrian turned down the heat, closed the lid of the barbecue, and escorted her into the kitchen to fix the buns. “I’d still be cooking and eating, even if you weren’t here. Don’t worry about it. It’s no extra trouble.”
It wasn’t the trouble, or even the expense of feeding an extra person that caused Celeste to hesitate. This wasn’t frozen supermarket pizza. It was a real dinner, and sharing dinner was too much like a date. She couldn’t do that. The changes in her life were too new to be exploring such options, if she ever explored those options again. If she did, a nice man like Adrian wouldn’t be interested in someone like her. Recounting the details of her life to Pastor Ron had served as a potent reminder of who she was, versus who she now appeared to be.
“I’d better not.”
Adrian bunched up a towel and removed a tray of fries from the oven. “You don’t want to make me eat all this by myself, do you?” He set the tray down and pressed his free hand to his very flat stomach.
“You’ll never be fat,” she mumbled.
“I’m not so sure, but there’s only one way to save me from that fate, and that’s to share so I don’t eat it all myself. If you’re in a rush, we could always eat while we practice.”
She certainly didn’t have anything else to do, but eating while they practiced was a way to make it work-related, which was good enough for her. “I think that’s a great idea. Let’s get set up.”
All the instruments lay exactly as they’d been left the day before. It felt strange playing without the rest of the band, but as promised, Adrian guided her through the songs to the best of his ability.
When they were done, Celeste clicked off the keyboard, then turned to Adrian. “You know, you’re much better than you give yourself credit for. What you think is bad isn’t lack of talent. It’s just inexperience. It takes time to get good when you only practice together once a week. The dynamics are very different than when you’re playing alone.”
Adrian hesitated, then laid his guitar carefully into the case. “I appreciate you saying that. I’ve been working really hard at learning to play properly. These songs will sound even better than this on Sunday morning, when we’ll all be together. Adding Bob on the drums makes a big difference.”
Celeste hesitated. “I still don’t think playing in front of the congregation without everyone having practiced together is a very good idea. This was good, but maybe we should wait until next week.”
Adrian leaned down and turned off his amp. “Paul will be really disappointed if we don’t play. Maybe I should e-mail everyone and ask if they’re free for a short practice tomorrow evening.”
Celeste gulped. “But tomorrow is Friday.” Everyone she knew always had plans on Friday night. Big plans. But that was a different world. She didn’t know what good, decent people did on Friday nights. Recently she had spent most nights alone in front of the television, but on Fridays, when the emptiness of her home haunted her, she went to the library. Even though she spent her time in solitude, there were other people around her, all quietly minding their own business. She’d even rediscovered the joy of reading, something she hadn’t done for many years.
Adrian shrugged his shoulders. “I never talked to them about what they’re doing, but they’re probably free because none of us is seeing anyone right now. But I never thought to ask you first. I’m sorry. I should have realized. I can tell Paul we’ll start playing together next week, after you can have a real practice on Wednesday with everyone.”
Guilt roared through her. “It’s certainly okay with me if it’s okay with everyone else. I just thought you had plans.”
He shook his head. “We’ve done last-minute stuff like this before, and it’s always fun. I’ll let you know what they say. Do you have an e-mail address? Or can I have your phone number?”
Her first impulse was to refuse, but she couldn’t. She’d promised God that she would trust Adrian. Adrian already knew where she lived, and no more harm could be done if he had her phone number. However, the only e-mail address she had was at the office. By giving him the company name, he would know her last hiding place, where she worked, dissolving the last thread of the anonymity she’d worked so hard to achieve.
Before she changed her mind, Celeste scribbled her home phone number and e-mail address onto a scrap piece of paper. “Here they are. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s getting late, and I should be getting home.”
As usual, Celeste parked her mother’s car where she figured it would be least noticeable, and hurried into the restaurant.
In midafternoon she’d received an e-mail from Adrian telling her that he’d finally heard back from everyone. No one had other plans, so they were going to practice as discussed, just a little earlier. Adrian had also hinted that he wanted to talk to her before everyone else got there, and so to be even earlier. Unfortunately she’d been asked to put in an hour of unplanned overtime, and now her stomach