by Lynn Stevens
“Hank’s in the hospital.” His face darkened. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but the performances are canceled for the rest of the weekend.”
“Oh,” I whispered. This was not what I was expecting. This was way worse. “I thought he just had a bad night.”
“That’s what we all hoped for.” Mr. Reynolds rubbed his hand over his face. “Dylan took Hank to the hospital this morning. He woke up and couldn’t talk at all. They admitted him this afternoon.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I reached into my pocket and felt for my phone. Maybe I should call him.
“I’m sure he will be.” Mr. Reynolds pressed his eyes closed for a moment. “Amilia could use more help with the wedding this weekend. I’ll have her schedule you for some more hours. Hopefully, we’ll know what’s going on with Hank soon.”
I didn’t really know what to say, so I just nodded. Mr. Reynolds gave me a tight smile and left the room. I didn’t hesitate. My phone was in my hand and the text was sent before I stopped to think Dylan might not want to hear from me.
I got my answer in his silence.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I worked as much as they would schedule me. Mom hired me to work at the restaurant as a hostess until the show started back. As much as I hated the job, it was kind of cool to see Mom in action. She was good at her job. The staff respected her, and the customers loved her. She drifted around the dining room like she owned the place.
A week went by. Then another.
I was at the restaurant when Crystal and Heath showed up.
“Hey, Cam, long time no see,” Heath said as he strolled through the door. His white short sleeve button down with black tie looked so wrong. Over the pocket was a black name tag and title “Computer Specialist” under “Heath” in white.
I pointed to the outfit. “What’s going on here?”
“Gotta pay bills somehow.” He laughed. “Computers are easy work.”
Crystal shook her head. She smiled sadly. “Can you take a break?”
“Yeah, sure, I guess.” I waved toward Mom.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked when she got to the hostess station. She saw Crystal and Heath, then turned on her managerial charm. “Is there something we can do to make your dining experience the best?”
“Well, now that you mention it—” Heath began, rubbing his chin. Crystal cut him off by elbowing him in the side.
“Mom, this is Crystal and Heath.” I pointed at each of them. When her face showed zero recognition of the names, I added, “From the band.”
“Oh,” Mom said. It still wasn’t dawning on her.
“Hank Walker,” I said, rolling my hand. Mom had only come to the theater once.
“Oh, right.” She smiled. “Cami will seat you shortly. It’s nice to meet you.”
She turned to walk away, but I put my hand on her elbow. “Mom, can I take a quick break?”
“We’re sorry to bother Cam at work,” Crystal said. She glanced between us. “This will only take a minute. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”
Mom stared at each one of us for a couple of beats. Then she nodded. “Be back in fifteen.”
“Thanks.” I ushered Crystal and Heath toward the kitchen and then out the back door. This was the designated smoking area. Fortunately, nobody was outside at that moment.
“It’s over,” Heath said, crossing his arms.
“We wanted to tell you in person,” Crystal added. “Hank’s on a plane back to L.A.”
I fell back against the cool red brick. “Dylan?”
“Went with him.” Heath grimaced. “Sorry.”
I nodded. “What’s wrong with him? With Hank?”
“At first, they thought his vocal chords were strained, but...” Crystal let the sentence drift away.
As much as I disliked Hank, this sounded worse that strained chords. I stared at Heath.
“Cancer,” he said. “In his throat.”
“That’s all we really know,” Crystal added when I opened my mouth to ask another question. “Nobody’s talked to Dylan except for Reynolds.”
“He didn’t say anything to either of you?” I asked anyway. Crystal had just said as much, but I felt the need to ask anyway. He’d never responded to my last text.
They both shook their heads.
“This sucks,” I said.
“Yeah, it does,” Heath said, huffing out a long breath. “So, we need to get our schedules together and find a time when we can practice. Mike’s playing with some metal band out of Cape now. We’ll need to find a bassist and guitar player.”
“For what?” I asked.
“Our band. Well, your band,” Crystal said. She widened her eyes. “Did you forget?”
I barked a laugh. “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking that direction. But, yeah, let’s figure it out. I was only filling in here until the show came back. My schedule is flexible at the resort, but I usually work days.”
“My schedule is flexible too,” Crystal said. “Heath’s working days and evenings, but we can work it out.”
“We’re really doing this?” I asked, a bubble of excitement formed in my chest.
“Yeah, why not?” Heath smiled and offered his hand.
I put mine on top and Crystal added hers.
“This is going to be amazing.” Heath turned his hand over and tickled mine.
I laughed and pulled away. “It will be.”
Crystal and Heath hugged me then left a few minutes later. My break was over, but I needed to do one more thing before I went back to work. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. His number was still stored under my favorites. I stared at the photo of us together before I messaged him.
Sorry to hear about your dad. You and your family will be in my prayers.
My phone buzzed before I put it back in my pocket. I hesitated before I opened his response.
Thank you. That was all he said. It was enough.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
July turned into August fast, but September came even quicker. Once Labor Day passed, business in Branson slowed. My hours at Mountain View Resort were cut back. It made it hard to save anything. I bought a van with what little I had saved. My band needed a way to haul our gear to shows. We’d had a few already, then our guitar player quit. It wouldn’t take long to get someone into our groove, but it would cost money on gigs we had to cancel.
Money was everything in this business. If you didn’t have any, you couldn’t get to a gig. If you didn’t have any, you couldn’t buy or repair equipment. But you had to have the gigs to make the money. I was learning a lot about the dirty side of the music industry.
My YouTube channel was getting hits. The video for “Walk Away” that Dylan had made was over a hundred thousand views and growing. Crystal had taken over getting us the gigs, managing my brand, and basically running everything behind the scenes. She thrived on it. Our little band was getting seen and it was thanks to her.
I parked in front of Crystal and Heath’s new place. They’d moved in together before Labor Day. We used the garage to practice. Sometimes with an audience made up of the neighborhood kids. Heath had started teaching guitar and drum lessons, and many of the kids were his students. Crystal took a new job at a call center until we could get the band off the ground.
“Hey, Cam,” Heath said as he set up chairs in the garage. One for me and one for him. Crystal was working overtime, but we had our cameras to record the potential candidates.
“How many do we have today?” I asked as I strolled toward him.
He lifted his head with a grin. “Ten. Hope they’re better than the ones from yesterday.”
“That Gary kid wasn’t that bad,” I pointed out.
Heath just snorted. He nodded toward the door. “Get the cooler, would ya? I loaded it with water and beer. That should get us through the afternoon.”
I went inside and walked straight into a galley kitchen. The cabinets were white and the appliances matched. Crystal had painted what
little wall space they had a pale yellow. It wasn’t much, but it was theirs. I loved it. The small cooler was on the counter. I reached for it when Heath’s phone buzzed beside it.
Dylan’s face lit the screen. I hadn’t talked to him since the day he left. His face disappeared, leaving behind notification of a voice mail. I closed my eyes to steel my racing heart. It didn’t matter. I made my choices, and it was what was best for both of us.
“Hey, what’s taking so long?” Heath asked when he peeked inside.
I pointed to his phone. “You have a missed call.”
He held out his hand for his phone, and I gave it to him. Heath swiped the screen and his infectious smile disappeared. His gaze shot to mine.
“I didn’t know you still talked to him,” I whispered, failing to hide the hurt in my voice.
“I didn’t tell you.” Heath put his phone in his pocket without listening to Dylan’s message. “You okay with it?”
I nodded, because I had to be okay with it. No matter what happened from here on out, Dylan would always own a huge chunk of my heart.
“Sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said. Forcing my game face back on, I smirked. “Let’s get this show going. Are you prepared to find the next Jimi Hendrix?”
Heath’s smile returned full watt. “I’ll be happy if we find someone who knows what a chord is.”
We stepped into the garage just as our first audition arrived. He let his bicycle fall to into the gravel before striding up to the garage with his guitar on his back.
“Hey, I’m Vaughn,” he said, holding out his hand.
Heath shook it, and Vaughn let his hand fall before I could. I raised my eyebrows at Heath who merely shrugged. This was my show now. Heath wasn’t going to say a word.
“Let’s see what you got,” I said, pushing Heath’s phone down when he raised it to record. Vaughn was going to have to win me over first.
Three bars later, he hadn’t. His chords were sloppy, and his fingering was all over the place. I needed a lead, not a rhythm.
“Thanks,” I said from my seat.
“We’ll let you know,” Heath added.
Vaughn glanced between us, then his head fell. He knew it was over.
“Thanks for coming.” I smiled as gently as I could.
Once he was gone, the next person showed. For five hours, Heath and I listened to good and bad. Nobody was great. We were going to have to settle for good. I hated that thought, but maybe we could turn good into great. One person stood out in that regard.
“Jeannie,” I said once the final audition left. “She’s it.”
Heath shook his head. “Maybe. We’ve got one more coming.”
“You said ten.”
He shrugged. “Had another one contact me earlier. Wanted a shot. I figured why not.”
“Fine, but I’m going to get a soda. I need some caffeine.” I stood from my seat and stretched my arms. “You need anything?”
Heath checked the cooler. “Shit. I ran out of beer. Grab me another, would ya?”
“You ran out of beer two hours ago,” I said, laughing as I went inside.
“Don’t get me one of Crystal’s light crap,” he shouted before I closed the door.
I laughed harder. Crystal and Heath had many debates about her choice of alcohol. It was hysterical. I was never a participant but a willing listener. Beer was not my drink. Alcohol by nature wasn’t my choice. I grabbed a diet soda and Heath’s heavy lager. My thoughts drifted to Dylan. After this last guitarist left, I’d wanted to ask Heath about him. I just wanted to know if he was okay. The stuff with his Dad was pretty epic. Hank had surgery in L.A. to remove the tumor on his vocal chords. It was benign, but his career was officially over.
Voices echoed in the garage. The next audition was here. I needed to get Dylan out of my head. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door, watching my step as I held two bottles in one arm while trying to close the door with the other. When I looked up, both bottles fell onto the concrete floor. Heath’s beer shattered next to my foot, soaking my flip-flop clad foot.
Dylan stared at me, a guitar case in his hand.
“You?” I asked.
“If you don’t want me here, tell me.” His voice was music to my ears. He stepped toward me. “But if there’s a chance....”
I stared at him, taking in his dark hair. It was slightly longer. His wide eyes, still so full of expressions, racing through every emotion in the human handbook. His large hands, his broad chest, his long legs. I just didn’t want to believe he was here, because if he was here...
“Cam?” He whispered my name, begging for an answer.
“Let’s hear you play,” I said, swallowing hard. I moved toward my seat. Dylan tossed a curious glance at Heath who sat beside me. I didn’t dare take my eyes off Dylan though. The apparition could disappear at any minute. I wanted to dream to play out. “Whenever you’re ready.”
Dylan shook his head and plugged his Les Paul into the amp. He tuned it quietly, the only person other Jeannie who did so. Then he began. I knew the song instantly. It was the one we wrote together, but he’d changed it. It was smoother, bolder, quieter. It had more power. I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees. My fingers played at my lips, stopping me from singing the song with him. When he strummed the final chord, the world felt as if he’d emptied it.
“How long do you plan on staying in town?” Heath asked. It was a leading question, one I desperately needed to hear the answer to.
“Well,” Dylan said, his gaze darted toward me before focusing solely on Heath. “I don’t know. You see, there’s this girl who broke my heart here. And I need to win her back. Once I do, I’m hoping we’ll head to Nashville together.” He paused. “With this new band she’s started, that is. So as long as it takes would be my answer.”
“What if she doesn’t want you?” Heath asked quietly. Another leading question, and one I did know the answer to.
“I think she does.” Dylan stared at me. “I found out the real reason she broke me. And I wish she would’ve talked to me about it.”
Broke me. He said I’d broken him. Not just his heart. I’d broken myself too. Swallowing hard, I stood and walked toward him. “It was ... I couldn’t leave my family.”
“I know. I understand.” He pushed his guitar behind him. “I would’ve understood then.” He took my hands in his. “After everything that happened with my father these past few months, there’s one thing I am more certain of than ever. You can’t live for somebody else.”
“But—”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t take care of your family,” he interrupted. His fingers wove through mine. “But you can’t do everything for them and nothing for yourself.”
“I’m doing this for me,” I said, meaning the band. “I haven’t given up my dreams, Dylan. I just couldn’t hold you back from yours.”
He pressed his forehead to mine. “You’re part of my dreams, Cam. You have been since the first day I heard you sing.”
I kissed him, hard and fast, like I’d long to trap those words between us. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me tight against his body.
“Looks like we have our new lead guitar,” Heath said quite loudly. “Still here, guys.”
Dylan broke the kiss then kissed my nose. “If you’ll have me.”
“God, I’ve missed you,” I whispered.
“I love you, Cam. Let’s make beautiful music together.” Dylan smiled
“Jesus Christ, can you be any cheesier?” Heath threw his arms around us and pulled us into a bear hug. “I’m so glad Mom and Dad made up.”
“You set this up, didn’t you?” I squinted an eye at him.
“Maybe,” he said, faking the innocence in his voice. “Either way, it’s time to kick it into high gear. We’re moving to Nashville by this time next year at the latest.”
“Before,” Dylan said. “I know people.”
“Then you two need to get writing.” Heath squeez
ed us again. “I’m going to call Crystal. She’s going to scream. You might hear it out here.”
We waited until the door closed.
“Thank you for believing in me.” I kissed Dylan again. It was hard to believe he was here. And that he was giving me a second chance. “But what about your dad?”
“He’ll be fine. He’s got enough people fussing over him. He doesn’t want or need me around.” Dylan ran his fingers down my cheek. “What about yours?”
“Mom finally admitted to me that part of the issues she had was an error with Dad’s disability. They had cut him off completely. Now it’s back to normal. And his new therapy has him moving around more. It’s great really.” I smiled. “I’ve been saving up almost all my money again. I’m not where I was yet, but I haven’t given up on my dreams, Dylan. I never did. I just couldn’t stand the thought of holding you back here.”
“You didn’t give me a choice, Cam.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I would’ve chosen you. Every time, I will choose you.”
I fell against him, letting his words fill me with hope and love.
And a new song in my heart. One that sings in his too. That beats in time with our hearts.
Just one song. That’s all we need.
Lynn Stevens flunked out of college writing her first novel. Yes, she still has it and no, you can't read it. Surprisingly, she graduated with honors at her third school. A former farm girl turned city slicker, Lynn lives in the Midwest where she drinks coffee she can't pronounce and sips tea when she's out of coffee. When she's out of both, just stay away.
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Also by Lynn Stevens
Roomies
Swipe Left for Love
Rebel Princess
Westland University Series
Full Count
Game On
Stealing Home
Girls of Summer Series
Extra Innings
