Mending a Broken Heart

Decisions

Andrea’s POV

After Emily left, I stood behind the counter in the diner wondering what I should do when the news came on. There he was, Ryan Porter in all of his glory. This seriously had to be the worst interview I have ever seen, it was as if the reporter was trying to verbally undress him. “So, rumor has it you are here to find your duet partner for the first single off your new album. Any prospects in mind” the bimbo of a reporter asked as she adjusted her self so her boobs were more visible than ever. “Well,” Ryan started “no one as of yet. We’re going to be holding auditions next week to start the search.” Great, that just means mass amounts of tourists will be here. That will be great for business but bad for me, I can’t stand people. 

I changed the channel on the TV when I heard the door open, who ever it was stopped abruptly when they came in the door. Oh good, maybe they will leave and I can get the hell out of here. Nope, I was wrong. It was Ryan Porter himself. He walked up to the counter looking slightly confused with his hat pulled down over his forehead but he was staring at me very intensely. It made me uneasy so I put on my best fake smile and asked “are you all set to order or would you like a menu?” I don’t think he heard me very clearly but he asked for a slice of pie and coffee. Weird combo if you ask me but whatever will get Mr Hollywood out of here fast I am here for. 

I turned to make his coffee and cut the pie while he found his way over to a booth. While the coffee was brewing I was contemplating what would be the most affective way to get him out of here fast. Based on the baseball hat basically pulled down to his nose, I am assuming he does not want to be recognized. So that is what I will do, let him know I know who he is. 

I walk over to his booth, as I am placing his coffee and pie in front of him I simply state “Here ya go, Ryan. Can I get you anything else, Hollywood boy?” To say he was shocked would be putting it mildly, he tried to ask how I knew but I just cut him off stating that he was a grade above Marc and I. I am sure he doesn’t remember him, Ryan played football while Marc played Hockey. Those two sets of jock’s didn’t exactly get a long. He has no clue who I was either which, shockingly irritated me so with an annoyed retort stated “Andy. My name is Andy, Andrea Morgan. You’re eating in my family’s diner? Any of that ring any bells?” A look of horror came over him, like he recognized the name thanks to Marc’s accident. I was truly hoping recognizing him would sending him packing immediately, this seemed to having the opposite affect. I started thinking of how else to get him out of here, would contacting his manager be too much? Then a question I was dreading that someone would ask came out of his mouth, he ask where he could find Marc. How could he ask that? How could anyone ask that! I wish I was still holding his coffee because I would have dumped it on him, “Yea, I know where you can find him. In West View Cemetery.” And with that I turned on my heel and went behind the counter. I asked Lucy, our head waitress if she would deal with him for the remainder of his meal and I went for a walk. 

I walked aimlessly down the side roads to my house, getting completely lost in my thoughts. How could he ask me that, why would he ask me that! Haven’t we gone through enough? From what I remember he was here when Marc died. That was the top story around here for over a year, especially during the trial.

It was spring break. Marc had come home to spend time with Emily while I stayed in New York to get a couple extra days at the office hoping to end my internship early. Marc called me on his way home from the store, he planned a picnic for Emily to ask her to marry him. I was beyond excited for her to officially become my sister and to be able to stop hiding this from her. He was telling me how he planned to set up at the picnic in the flower gardens when he abruptly ended the call.  A couple of hours had passed before my mom started calling me non- stop. The phone call to tell me to come home, just to come home. Nothing about the reason why or that anything had happened to Marc. 

Once I shook the horrible memory out of my head I realized I made my way to my front door. Dreading actually walking in side, not knowing what I will find tonight, I opened the front door to see my other passed out with a bottle of wine in her hand on the kitchen table. I didn’t see dad but I could hear him on the phone in his office, where he spent most nights. I walked over to the office door and knocked, waiting for a response that never came. I opened the door, “Hey dad, how are you” I asked softly hoping not to startle him. “Oh, Andy its you. Hi. Can we chat tomorrow sweetie I’m extremely busy.” I just nodded and walked away, I have heard that sentence everyday since about two weeks after Marc’s service. 

I grabbed a snack and made my way to my room, flopping on the bed feeling completely drained from just one conversation with Ryan the Golden God Porter, I called Emily hoping to clear my mind. I filled her in on the nights events and was cut off my an excited scream, “IT’S A SIGN! YOU HAVE TO GO TO THE AUDITIONS!” Emily was too much for her own good sometimes. “Emily,” I started trying to calm her so I could express how much I couldn’t stand that guy “I can’t go to the auditions. I do not sing anymore and besides, after what he said tonight I don’t exactly want to see him again.” Knowing he had the nerve to ask about Marc put everything over the edge for me and I want nothing to do with him. “But Andy, it’s not his fault. Maybe he didn’t know. Marc’s left us right around the time Ryan had that mystery ‘illness’ and a few months after that he left for LA. Please remember that Marc’s wouldn’t want you to hate someone on his behalf, we both know that hate was not part of Marc’s vernacular.” 

I hate it when she’s right, “I hate it when you’re right” I could hear her massive grin through the phone. “I know. Now, what are you going to be singing at the audition? I think you should stick to some classic Miranda Lambert. But what do you think?” Miranda Lambert? She can’t be serious, I mean I love her music but I went to school for this. “I don’t know Em, I don’t sound the best singing her music. If I am actually going to do this, I need to think about the song choice. Have they released any information about what the style of the song is going to be?” The line sounded like it went dead, Emily liked music but she new nothing about the technical side of it all. “Andy, I am not you. So, even if they did release some information I wouldn’t even know what would be useful for you.” She had a point but any intel at all about the new album would be useful for my song choice. “I guess you’re right. If you hear anything else can you let me know? I am trying to avoid anything Ryan Porter related until I have to” I gained as I heard her giggle. “I will. Night, Andy” I smiled and said goodnight. 

I should just sleep on this, maybe having a clearer head tomorrow will help me through, this is a big decision that I am not sure I am ready to make yet. I gave up music when Marc died, he was my other half and felt like my true happiness left with him. The potential out come of this audition processes, I am not sure that I cannot even fathom how my life would change but I cannot get my hopes up. 

I tossed and turned most of the night. I gave up around 4 am,  I had to get up at 5 and open the diner anyways. In desperate need of clearing my head, I quickly showered and decided that walking to work could be a blessing in disguise. I could not have been more wrong. I was consumed with my thoughts, flashing back to the weeks after Marc’s death. Everyone walked on egg shells around me, I was the only one who kept the diner running but our regulars were way too nice. I know no one truly knows how to handle that kind of situation but knowing that everyone just looked at me with that sad little head tilt. 

For weeks, most people didn’t even make eye contact with me. I could hear the hushed conversations about the accident and how everyone thought it was weird that we didn’t want to know who the people he saved were. “Part of him is still here,” that was something that was said to me constantly when I was being comforted. They weren’t wrong, Marc was an organ donor. From what my parents were willing to hear, he helped a burn victim, a teenager with cystic fibrosis, a dialysis patient, and someone around our age with a fatal heart condition. We could have gotten the names of the recipients but my parents didn’t want to know. 

As I approach the diner, it actually felt like coming home. It was the last place that I saw Marc, I was working my last shift at the diner when he came in to say goodbye. Emily was going to drive him to the airport, I knew he and I would face time once he was settled and again once a week once I was back at school. Being alone in the diner in the morning gave me time and the space to pretend that the last two years were a dream. That Marc is still with us and I am just waiting for him to come help me open. Before I know it, it’s after 6am and the first customer is here. I turn to greet them and who is it? None other than Ryan Porter himself.