“Thank you,” I said, feeling awkward as the center of attention. “Yes,” I said. “Sophia, after my mother and great aunt.”
Soon, I had Ken, Sarah and Mrs. O standing in a semi circle asking me about how I was feeling, when I was due and a dozen other questions.
“I hear your due date is in August,” Mrs. O’Riley said.
“Yes,” I said and smiled. “August 27th or thereabouts.”
Drake stepped in between us and turned to them. “Don’t pester the poor girl. Now, let her be or she won’t be coming back again, for fear of getting ambushed.”
Drake gathered them all up and pushed Ken towards the stage.
Before she left, Mrs. O’Riley winked at me. “Come for Sunday dinner, Kate. I promise we won’t ambush you – too much – but you have to know that a baby on the way is irresistible and we’ll want to hear all about it.”
“I would love to come,” I replied and smiled back. “I felt like a prisoner for the past twelve weeks. I’ll be glad to get out and see people.”
“Good. We’ll have a nice roast with all the trimmings.”
By the time they all left me alone at the bar, and Colin began pouring drinks once more, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much. It was a relief to turn and listen while the band warmed up, playing their various instruments before the lights focused on them and the crowed became quiet.
The first song was by the Rolling Stones. “Ruby Tuesday.” Drake sang and played his bass, while Ken sang background vocals. The band was pretty tight and while Drake’s voice wasn’t as tart as Mick Jagger’s, he did a good job and it surprised me how much he got into character. I saw a whole different side of him up there on the stage. Drake always seemed reserved in public, so completely in control, although in private he had a really great sense of humor and loved to tease, but this was a different Drake than I had ever seen before.
While I was sitting listening, a tall, dark haired woman entered the bar and stood in the shadows by the washrooms. I don’t know why I noticed her, but it was strange that she didn’t come inside and take a seat, for there were a few tables open. A waitress went up to her and spoke with her, but the woman shook her head.
I turned back and continued listening to the band play, and she slipped my mind until a while later, when I felt her eyes on me. I turned and she was staring intently in my direction. I glanced around to see if she was looking at someone else, but there was only an empty table beside me. When I looked back, she was gone. I glanced around but she was nowhere to be seen.
Whoever she was, her expression sent a shiver down my spine. I turned back and watched Drake, pushing the image of the dark haired woman out of my mind. If I had come to O’Riley’s before I met him, I could have easily had a crush on Drake, seeing him up there on the stage, singing and playing his guitar. He was so handsome and well-built, his nicely developed physique apparent, even under his clothes. He looked like he belonged on the stage or on some catwalk at a DKNY show in Milan. Sometimes, it was hard for me to remember that instead, he was a very serious neurosurgeon who used robotic instruments to stop seizures and movement disorders in his patients.
His outward appearance was so different from the man inside.
I loved him so much at that moment, for letting me in this close to see this other side of him. The side he showed me that night was a side he usually kept from the women he had been involved with since his divorce, and him showing himself to me like this meant so much. It was the last wall he kept up between us, and it meant I was fully in his life.
I turned and watched the crowd and saw that most of the patrons were couples or small groups of men and women. I wondered what the women were thinking of Drake. They would see only the gorgeous hunk of man playing a guitar and know nothing of the slightly kinky man who liked to take control in the bedroom and was specializing in pediatric neurosurgery.
Now, with me at O’Riley’s for a performance, I felt as if the very last piece of food on Drake’s plate was touching all the rest.
As he’d said, he broke all his rules for me. I hoped he was happy and from the way he looked on stage, playing his guitar and singing, completely at ease and in character to play a song by the Stones, he was.
Drake announced the next song, with an intro that mentioned me.
“This next song goes out to the one I love, Kate, the love of my life and the mother of my child.”
When the song started, I had to cover my mouth from emotion. “And I Love Her” by the Beatles.
Ever since that first night I heard him play it, it had been on my iTunes playlist. I felt as if it was ‘our song’, even if that sounded corny. He said it reminded him of us, and so now, that is what it meant to me. It was Drake admitting he loved me.
It was Drake letting me into his life and his heart completely.
I knew at that moment how lucky I was to have met him. Who would have ever thought that going to my father’s fundraiser that October night would lead to the happiest time in my life?
The night I went to my father’s fundraiser seemed so far off in the past, even though it wasn’t quite a year and a half earlier. Back then, I still thought of my father as a controlling bastard who I could never please, who expected me to do a degree in journalism covering politics. I felt as if he didn’t really know me, his own daughter, having some wrong idea about who I was and what I really loved.
Instead, he only wanted me to be happy and fulfilled, and agreed with everything I ever suggested. It was me who didn’t know him.
I looked over the crowd, wondering what they were thinking about the music and what they’d think if they knew I was the one mentioned in the dedication for that song . It was then I saw her again – the dark haired woman – and for a moment, I thought about Drake’s stalker and I actually shivered. Was that her? Lisa?
On the stage, Drake was focused on playing his guitar. I’d speak with him about her later. I checked back to where she had been standing but she was gone again, as if she was popping in and out, and I wondered if she was in the dining room and just peeking in to see the band playing. I tried to brush my fears out of my mind. It was probably nothing.
The band seemed to really enjoy themselves as did the audience. They were pretty silent, considering it was a Saturday night. I guess they really did like the band. Mersey was a cover band and played no original music, but O’Riley’s was an Irish pub and people wanted British music.