Athena's Daughter
Page 1
Praise for
Athena’s Daughter
Juli Page Morgan’s rock star romance Athena's Daughter hustles you to a time when love consumed your entire life and music meant everything. A beautiful story of lost love that returns.— Debra Kayn, Hard Body novel series, Grand Central Publishing
The characters are so alive they leap off the page as they unravel secrets and find forgiveness on their way to happily-ever-after. – Rachel Cross, author of Rock Her
ATHENA’S DAUGHTER
Juli Page Morgan
Published by Juli Page Morgan
Smashwords Edition
This book is also available in print at most online retailers
Copyright © 2013 Juli Page Morgan
Cover photos copyright © 2013 Chelle Morgan
All Rights Reserved
Grateful acknowledgement is made for permission to include the following copyrighted material:
Lyrics from “Remembrance of Things Past” by Christopher L Webster. Copyright © 2009 by Un-Reel Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Used by permission.
Excerpt from Crimson and Clover. Copyright © 2013 by Juli Page Morgan. Reprinted by permission of Crimson Romance, an imprint of F+W Media, Inc. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Jason Horton
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Find out more about the author and her books at www.julipagemorgan.com
Smashwords Edition License Notes:
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Also by Juli Page Morgan
About the Author
For my husband, Phillip, my rock star!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Athena’s Daughter wouldn’t be here without the help and support of these amazing, wonderful people:
The Book Pimps – Debi Matlack, Stephanie Hussey and Missy Katano, the best critique group in the Whole. Wide. World! Not only do they help me whip my books into the best shape they could possibly be, they are all such incredible friends and instinctively know when I need pictures of Jimmy Page and Johnny Depp for inspiration. Yeah, that’s it – inspiration!
Photographer Chelle Morgan, stylist Katie Christian, and models Erica Hare, Tyler Livingston and sweet little Cadence for rocking the cover of Athena’s Daughter. They have my undying gratitude for doing the most super job imaginable even when our original photo shoot location was overrun with toddlers and we had to find a different park, and it was overrun with poison ivy!
My sister-in-law Susan, for letting us use her guitar for the photo shoot.
Jason Horton, my cover designer with mad editing skills who took my vision of what I wanted the cover of this book to be, rocked it out, and made it better than I could have ever imagined.
Christopher L Webster, musician extraordinaire and dear friend, for letting me use the lyrics to his song, “Remembrance of Things Past,” and for just being so wonderful all the time. And if you want to hear what the song really sounds like, go to the website of his band, Mr. Happy!
Sherry Thrasher Cunningham, my friend, my cheerleader, my Queen, for her enthusiasm and support, emergency supplies of chips and French onion dip, and her amazing ability for choosing Extreme Balloons!
Authors Debra Kayn, Deborah O’Neill Cordes, Liv Rancourt, Traci Douglass, Rachel Cross and Terri Herman-Ponce whose talent and enthusiasm are a constant source of inspiration.
My brothers Alan and Matthew, and my sister Sandra, the best siblings in the world!
My daughters Laurel and Chelle, and my son-in-law Sean for their support and love, and for well-timed phone calls and excellent advice.
My husband Phillip. I love you!
CHAPTER ONE
Memphis, Tennessee, April 4, 1975
Dithering over what to wear to work wasn’t something Athena Chandler did on a regular basis. Despite being the manager of Stax of Wax record shop, the most dressed up she ever got was jeans and a T-shirt. After all, no one was looking for a pencil skirt and sensible heels in a store decorated with psychedelic black light posters. However, the following day was going to be an emotional roller coaster, and she’d feel a lot better if she looked great. She’d settle for looking presentable and not throwing up.
As she stood in front of her closet hoping something cool and sexy would materialize from the meager selection of garments, the patter of small footsteps sounded in the hallway outside her bedroom. She turned with a smile as her six-year-old daughter barreled through the door and threw herself on Athena’s bed with the enthusiasm of a cliff diver.
Hands on hips, Athena fixed the little girl with a stern look. “Elizabeth, I’ve asked you not to hurl yourself on the furniture, remember?” She didn’t know where the child had picked up the habit, but the springs in their mismatched collection of second-hand furniture wouldn’t hold out for long under that sort of treatment, and there was no way Athena’s salary would stretch to cover replacements.
“I’m sorry, Mommy.” Elizabeth rolled over and gave her mother a sad, puppy-dog look from eyes that were such an incredible shade of blue that strangers would stop on the street to comment on them. “I forgot.”
“Well, you’re going to have to remember, okay? It’s not good for the furniture.” She abandoned her perusal of the closet; there wasn’t anything in there that hadn’t been worn to death already, and she was just going to have to make the best of it. “Ready for me to braid your hair?”
“I don’t wanna braid my hair.” Elizabeth’s mouth turned down in a pout. “I’m tired of braids.”
Unmoved by this familiar refrain, Athena picked up the hairbrush from the dresser. “Doesn’t matter. If you sleep on it while it’s down, it’ll be so tangled in the morning we can’t brush it. And you know Aunt Andi will braid it anyway when you get to her house.”
She
repressed a grin at Elizabeth’s long-suffering sigh and sat down on the bed. The little girl scooted closer and turned her back so her mother could complete their nightly ritual.
As Athena smoothed the tangles from Elizabeth’s hair, still a bit damp from her earlier bath, she marveled again at how beautiful it was. Dark brown as a strong cup of coffee and with glints of auburn when the light stuck it, it hung in soft waves down Elizabeth’s back. It was so different from Athena’s own sandy-blonde hair with its curls and tendency to frizz. Her daughter had been fortunate to get her father’s hair, along with those startling eyes.
Just thinking of Elizabeth’s father made Athena’s heart jump up into her throat and her stomach roil with nerves. She took a deep breath to settle herself as her hands moved automatically in her daughter’s hair, parting it in three strands.
It had been seven years since she’d seen him, but she was reminded of him every day when she looked at her daughter’s face. Elizabeth was so much like him, even having that same half-smile he charmed people with. It wasn’t just her looks, either; she resembled him in temperament more than she did her mother, a fact for which Athena was grateful. That calm acceptance and ability to remain unruffled in the face of adversity would serve Elizabeth well. The little girl was the only one in her first-grade class who had a divorced mother, and already there had been questions about Elizabeth’s father from teachers and other parents, some of which Elizabeth overheard.
Instead of having a full-fledged meltdown, Elizabeth calmly asked why her mother wasn’t married, and listened with quiet attention as Athena stumbled through an abbreviated explanation about divorce that a child could understand. After digesting the information, all Elizabeth asked for was a photo of Steve to keep in her bedroom, and Athena managed to find one. Cameras hadn’t been numerous at the New Mexico commune where she and Steve had married, but someone produced one that day and, wonder of wonders, even had the film developed. Otherwise, Athena wouldn’t have had any photos of her ex-husband at all.
As she worked the strands of Elizabeth’s hair into a long, tight braid, Athena shook her head at the memory of that picture. Her pregnancy had just begun to show, but in the photo she could pass for a young woman carrying a tad too much weight. It was a great likeness of Steve, though, with his goofy, zoned-out grin, long tangled hair and full beard. Athena knew Elizabeth told it goodnight before she went to bed each evening, and felt a pang of, not regret, but maybe remorse. The marriage ended up a disaster and Steve bugged out when Elizabeth was only two months old. But when Athena saw her daughter telling a photo goodnight, she couldn’t help but think that maybe she should have tried harder to keep Steve around.
But no; he’d never been the kind of man who would be happy with a wife and child. He was too free-spirited – Athena’s mother called it irresponsible, and she was inclined to agree with her – to remain tied down for very long. Better that Elizabeth have no memory of him at all than to grow up with the sounds of frequent arguments punctuated with cold, angry silences.
“There you go.” She patted Elizabeth’s head. “All done.”
Elizabeth twisted around to look at her with hope. “Can I watch TV?”
“What do you think?”
The little girl’s face fell flat. “It’s bedtime,” she sighed.
“Yep. Come on.” Athena stood and held out her hand. “For me, too. I’ve got a big day tomorrow and I want to make sure I get enough rest.”
As she’d hoped, Elizabeth was distracted by the turn in the conversation and slipped her hand in Athena’s. “What kind of big day do you have?”
“A band is coming to the store to sign copies of their records, and since they’re a popular group there’ll be lots of people there.”
“What band is it?” Elizabeth swung their linked hands between them as they walked down the hall to her bedroom. Because of the records Athena brought home from work and the fact that they listened to the radio both at home and in the car, Elizabeth was as well-versed as her mother on the popular music of the day.
“They’re called Wolf.” Despite the band’s success and frequent airplay, Wolf was one band with which Elizabeth wasn’t familiar. Athena had made sure of that by never playing their records when her daughter was around, and switching the station when one of Wolf’s songs came on the radio. In hindsight, it was a stupid thing to do, but Athena added it to her already long list of Things To Make Right Later.
Elizabeth wrinkled her brow. “Wolf? That’s a silly name.”
“Yeah, it is.” Athena laughed under her breath. “But their music is good, so that’s why they’re popular.” Thinking about the band’s arrival at the store the following day, her mind turned again to her pitiful closet, and she sighed as she turned back the quilt on Elizabeth’s bed. “In you go.”
Elizabeth climbed in – no jumping this time Athena was glad to note – and slid under the covers. “Story?”
“We read two stories after your bath,” Athena reminded her. “That’s why it’s already past your bedtime.”
“Oh, yeah.” Elizabeth turned to the photo on her bedside table. “Goodnight, Daddy,” she murmured, patting the cheap plastic frame. She turned to Athena and held up her arms. “Goodnight, Mommy.”
Athena bent and hugged her tight, giving an extra squeeze to try to make up for an absent father. “Goodnight, munchkin. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” Elizabeth replied with a big kiss on Athena’s cheek. “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
“No bugs of any kind, please.” Athena chuckled. “Sweet dreams.” She clicked off the lamp.
“Sweet dreams to you too, Mommy.”
By the light spilling in from the hallway, Athena located the tattered stuffed rabbit that was Elizabeth’s favorite sleeping companion and tucked it under the covers next to her daughter. The little girl wrapped her arms around it, snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes. With a last soft kiss on her daughter’s head, Athena left the room, pulling the door halfway shut behind her.
She made a circuit of the small apartment, turning off lights and making sure the doors were locked before returning to her bedroom. Sighing, she opened the closet door once more. The next day was going to be a big one, and she busied herself trying to find something to wear to meet it.
CHAPTER TWO
As she drove her battered powder blue VW Beetle past the front of the store the next morning she saw a line already forming along the sidewalk. Oh, great. Stax of Wax didn’t open for another hour, and she shuddered to think how many people they’d have waiting to get in then.
Circling the block, she parked in the alley behind the store and let herself in the back door.
“Wow! Don’t you look nice.”
She looked up to meet the friendly gaze of Rondall Thompson, the owner of Stax of Wax. Suddenly self-conscious about her appearance, she ran a nervous hand over her dress. After giving up on her own closet, she’d ended up calling her sister and asking to borrow something nice, and the red jersey knit dress with the v-neck and long, belled sleeves was what Andi chose. It wasn’t her style at all, but it was better than her usual Levis and a faded-from-too-many-washes T-shirt.
“Thanks,” she said, and tucked her hair behind her ears. Instead of her everyday braid or ponytail, she’d left it loose and pulled back the front on each side in a barrette on the back of her head. As usual, errant curls escaped confinement and brushed her forehead and ears. “Is it too much? I kind of feel like I’m wearing an evening gown to a pool party.”
“No, it’s not too much,” Rondall protested. “You look fine. We’re gonna have a crowd today, and I think someone’s coming from the paper, too.”
Shit. As much as she was hoping for some free press from the event, she hated having her picture taken. Making a mental note to duck out of the range of any cameras, she walked into the front of the store with Rondall trailing behind. “Everything ready to go?”
“All set.” Rondall nodded, his r
ound face shining with satisfaction. “I’ve hired two off-duty cops to run interference in the alley, you already called all the part-timers in to work, and I set up the table where the band will sit.”
Athena looked where he was pointing and bit back a sigh. Rondall was a sweet man, but sometimes she would swear he just didn’t think. “Maybe having the table right by the door isn’t the best place for it. It’ll cause a logjam and we’ll end up with a bunch of pushing and shoving. Besides, if we put it here in the back, people will have to walk past all these tempting records before they reach the band. Might result in some extra sales.”
Rondall’s sweet, friendly face went blank. “Didn’t think of that.”
Laughing, Athena patted him on the arm. “That’s what you hired me to do. Let’s scare up Wally and Buckshot and have them move this table.”
While two of the teenage boys employed part-time at the store wrestled the table to the back by the cash register, Athena double checked their inventory of Wolf’s albums. After the table was set up, she got the boys to stack the albums behind it while she moved the folding chairs where the band would sit. Then she rushed around making sure there were enough pens for autographs and making sure those pens had ink.
All these activities were designed to keep her mind off the fact that Wolf would be arriving in mere moments, but it didn’t work. Despite her feverish running around, she kept glancing at the clock, her heart pounding a little harder with each tick of the hands.
“Man, I can’t wait to meet those guys.” Buckshot’s voice intruded on her agitated thoughts. “They’re my favorite band.”