I sat, waiting on Annabelle’s doorstep. The scent of lavender drifting through the gaps of her door, calming my silent sobs of tears.
Inside, i could hear Annabelle humming. From the tune, I knew she had yet to have a coffee. It’s never safe to go near her before her morning coffee.
My head rested on her bright green door, the sound of the kettle whistled along with her song. My hands couldn’t keep still. They kept running through my hair, remembering his call.
Annabelle’s footsteps clicked closer so i shuffled to the side, letting the great big cat of a door yawn open.
She swung herself down to the newspaper then turned, “come on babe, coffee’s brewing. It’s safe.” And like an obedient dog, sniffling, I followed her inside.
I sat on her retro bar stools, coated in red leather. They had never been my taste, but the fitted Annabelle like a glove.
“What’s the matter love?” she mused as she took a swig of her coffee.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I stared blankly down at my own intense, sugary brew.
“So…what do you want?” she sighed inquisitively.
“I want to be fed with the blues. Nourished on the golden caramel of Eva Cassidy’s voice. I want you to take me dancing in faraway places, where they don’t speak in a dialect I understand. I want you and I to sit by a fire with people we’ve only known a few hours and listen to them pick up their guitars after slightly too much to drink. I want to hear them join each other’s songs into one, as their lovers lie with their feet up, staring into the flames until one jumps up and scats so beautifully that there is nothing but the music left in the world. I want you to take me back in time, and I want to see Eva play live, watch her work her magic up there, on a real stage. I want you and me to find a little town somewhere, where we can sit and feed ourselves on the salty air of the ocean.”
I hear Annabelle chuckle in amusement. “Well… I can most defiantly nourish you with some golden caramel and dancing. I can’t speak another language, but I can pretend; just for you sweetie.”
With grace, she slides a CD into place. Then like over exited children, we climbed through her cupboards, playing dress-ups till we felt exotic enough, different enough; that we could escape from ourselves for a moment.
With her murmuring something that was meant to sound like French in my ear, we twirled our way into the hours pasted the first brush of dawn before I pull away gently.
“He smashed my heart into little pieces.” I tell her, “I hate that red phone. Burn it for me?”
She pulled me into a bear hug. “Oh hun, burning isn’t good enough. Let’s throw it as far away as we can, in tiny little pieces.”
Suddenly, the coffee is swapped for hot chocolate with swirling melted chocolate half mixed into the dark concoction and I know that I’m home.
For as long as I can remember, I have loved Eva Cassidy’s music. It inspires and moves me. The song doesnt start right away, but it dose pretty soon into it. this is the song i wrote this to, so i thought i should give you all the opertunity to hear her sing live.