The Song

by Chris Fabry

  She looked at the window from the couch—it was light outside but still early according to the clock. Thinking she would surprise Jed, Rose crept upstairs to their room only to find the bed empty and his overnight case gone.

  Through the window she saw the limo pulling out of the cul-de-sac. He hadn’t woken her to say good-bye.

  “Mom?” Ray said from his room. “Is Daddy still here?”

  “No, Son, he had to leave. I’m sorry.”

  She heard the drumsticks click together. “Mom, do you want to be in my band?”

  CHAPTER 28

  THE HUM OF THE PLANE lulled Jed to sleep like it always did. He never had any problems crashing on the plane ride, no matter how short. Over the din of the engines and the game they were playing behind him, he fell asleep. The band members knew better than to wake him.

  He felt his chair bump and a voice close to his ear startled him.

  “When are you gonna stop being so rude?”

  He sat forward and turned to see Shelby Bale hanging over the back of his seat. He’d never seen a nose ring that close before. He’d never heard such a sultry voice.

  She reached out a hand. “I’m Shelby.”

  “I know,” Jed said.

  “You know now,” she said.

  Jed put a leg in the aisle and turned farther to face her. She had long brown hair that framed a pretty face. Dimples that showed when she smiled and dark eyelashes. Perfect teeth. Just a hint of perfume. She had tattoos on her arms, and he guessed on other parts of her body, and wore dark fingernail polish. Shelby projected a bad-girl image onstage and in the songs she sang, but there was something equally vulnerable to her style. She didn’t seem too “bad” close-up. And certainly not hard on the eyes.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me who you were?” Jed said.

  She shrugged. “Kindness. I was being nice.”

  “How was that being nice?”

  Her smile faded. She was serious now. “For a moment you felt wanted and . . . it’s a good feeling, isn’t it?”

  Jed saw two of his band members glance at him, overhearing Shelby’s words. He narrowed his focus on her and tried to think of some comeback. Before he could speak, she pushed away from the seat.

  “Unless turning me down was unpleasant. If it was, I’m really sorry. You can let me know how I can make it up to you.”

  Her voice, her facial expressions, her body language, the way she spoke so close to his ear, all of that let him know she was interested, she was pushing toward him. Or maybe that’s just the way Shelby was with everyone. Just her personality.

  No matter which was true, Shelby was right. It did feel good to be wanted. It felt good to be pursued.

  He watched her walk down the aisle, unable to avert his eyes. She glanced back and smiled when she caught him looking.

  The next two nights were a blur, crisscrossing the country in the Gulfstream. He’d have to talk with Stan about a more reasonable tour schedule, but there were rumblings of Europe that would only mean a more grueling travel schedule and more time away from his family. Something had to change.

  Jed was onstage in Raleigh, North Carolina, when something did. It happened out of the blue, something he couldn’t have predicted or prepared for.

  He was singing “All I Wanna Be” in that slow, somber, plaintive voice of his, as if Rose were standing right there in front of him and he were telling her of his desire from the heart.

  “What is all this for?

  I wonder as I’m walking out our door again.

  What is all my talk going to?

  When all I want to be is with you.

  All I want to be is with you.

  “There is nothing that’s new under the sun,

  I ain’t doin’ nothing that hasn’t been done.

  I’ve let lies be truth to me.

  When all I want to be is with you.”

  When Jed got to the lyric “I want your love, I want your touch,” his heart ached as he thought of Rose and how good it felt to hold her. He was lost in those thoughts when the audience responded. The applause felt out of place. He thought perhaps something was happening in the crowd that he hadn’t seen, but they were clapping and pointing toward the stage. That’s when the violin began a heightened rhythm with a few short strokes of the bow.

  We don’t have a violin player, Jed thought.

  He turned to see Shelby smiling and quickening the pace of the song. Jed was so upset he couldn’t see straight. He wanted to scold her for coming onstage during one of his signature ballads, but the band joined her and matched her rhythm, turning the ballad into something different. She was calling the shots with the guys now and he wanted to rein them in, but the music was like a swollen river and he couldn’t paddle upstream.

  He sang the next verse as she continued to lead the instruments.

  “I miss you more with every mile,

  I go to bed just to dream of your smile

  You’re a garden view with a thousand hues

  All I want to be is with you.

  “And with every good-bye it gets harder to try

  When all hope seems lost, the heart just dies.

  But there’s life if we see this through.

  All I want to be is with you.”

  Shelby played along, underscoring the tune with her violin, and on the next chorus she began singing harmony. It made the sound more full and rich as her voice mingled with his own. In fact, the whole song improved with her presence and Jed knew it now, not just because the crowd was going wild, but also from the feeling he had inside.

  When the song was done, Shelby wasn’t. She cranked up the tempo with just her violin, coaxing the whole band to follow, and follow they did, the crowd clapping along at a feverish pace.

  Jed was in it now, in the rhythm with the guitar and feeling the movement, the life Shelby was bringing to the stage. And what happened was incredible—there was no other way to describe it. Each member grabbed the song and rode it to the end.

  When the music stopped, Shelby smiled at him and he hugged her with one arm and said, “Good job.” Jed waved as the entire band got up and walked backstage. The crowd was going wild, calling them back for an encore.

  “That was awesome,” Jed said. “So good.”

  Shelby couldn’t stop smiling. “Thank you.”

  “I knew you were good, but that was just ridiculous.”

  Stan came up behind them. “Guys. That was magic. That was absolute wizardry. I need three more months of that, okay? You got it. You can do it.”

  Jed looked out at the crowd and for a fleeting moment thought of Rose. She was not going to react well to three more months of travel and being away. But the crescendo of the crowd was too great. No way he could stand up to Stan. “All right.”

  “Perfect!” Stan said, and he was off.

  Jed looked at Shelby. “Do you know any more of my songs?”

  She gave him a smile, a grin like a Cheshire cat. “I told you, I’m a fan.”

  “What do you want to play?”

  “The one they came to hear,” she said.

  The crowd jumped up and down as they took the stage and Shelby began the slow melody of “The Song.” Jed and the others joined in and Shelby moved toward the microphone.

  “Okay, I always thought ‘The Song’ needed a lady’s touch. How ’bout y’all?”

  The people at the front pushed toward the stage, hooting and whistling.

  Then Jed stepped to the microphone. “That may be true, but I don’t see a lady up here right now.”

  Shelby feigned outrage. “Jed, you just try to sing the song and I’ll see what I can do.”

  The crowd was enjoying their repartee, the back-and-forth of two talented artists at the top of their game.

  “I’ve been waitin’ on you to come along,

  seeing notes on a page but not the song . . .”

  Singing next to Shelby, looking into her eyes, Jed felt something stirring. She was the perfect tou
ch, the oil to the gears of the machine they had going, and he couldn’t believe Stan had found her and brought her along.

  That night in his hotel room, he thought of Shelby, the way she’d responded to subtle changes in his delivery. The way her violin filled in the missing pieces and took them to another level. And how easy it was to watch her play. There was something about her that drew him and he imagined her coming to his hotel room door and knocking.

  He shook the thought away and picked up the phone to call Stan and tell him they should rerecord those two songs with Shelby and put them on a live release. The energy they conveyed was captivating.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Stan said. “You love what she brings to the stage.”

  “Absolutely. She’s the best thing that’s happened to us since . . . since you and I got back together.”

  Stan laughed. “Can’t argue with you there, big boy. You two are creating some buzz. People are taking notice. And I have news. Europe is not just a rumor anymore. I’m booking London, Dublin, Amsterdam, and a whole lot more. We’re taking this show to the world. It’s gonna be a few months to iron things out, but I can’t wait to see you guys set those countries on fire.”

  With Europe came more travel, of course. And with more travel came the distance between Rose and Ray and him. Jed hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling. There had to be a way to make his marriage work. There had to be a way to keep them growing together.

  He pulled up the contact list on his phone and clicked on Home. Then he looked at the clock. It was 2:30 in the morning. No way Rose would be up. And the conversation would just keep her from getting the rest she needed to see Ray through the next day. He put the phone away and made a mental note to call first thing in the morning.

  CHAPTER 29

  ROSE TUCKED RAY into bed and read him a story from his Bible. He liked David killing Goliath. He liked Noah and the ark and the animals. But most of all he liked Jesus and the stories about him helping people.

  “Why did they want to hurt Jesus, Mom?”

  “They didn’t like what he said. Didn’t like it that so many people were following him.”

  “What did he say that made them so mad?”

  “That God was his Father. People back then didn’t understand that God could be a daddy to you.”

  “Like my daddy?”

  Rose looked away. It had been a long time since she’d felt anything but hurt toward Jed. As his career ascended, his heart seemed to be drawn further away from his family, from the things that really mattered. She tried to think of something positive to say.

  “Your daddy tries hard to love us,” she said. “He’s a good provider. And that’s what God does, he provides for us.”

  “But God isn’t home very often, is he?”

  “That’s where things get a little hard to understand. God is always home. He’s always waiting for you to come to him. And your daddy wants to be with us, but his job takes him far away.”

  “Why doesn’t he just work at the vineyard like Paw Paw?”

  “He could. But God has given him a gift, just like he gave his daddy—your other grandpa you never got to meet. And your daddy wants to use the gifts God gave him.”

  “His songs, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  Ray thought for a minute. “Mom, is it okay if I don’t become a drummer?”

  She smiled and kissed his forehead. “It’s okay with me if you become anything you want to be.”

  She prayed with him and turned out the light but left the door open a crack so he could see the light from the hall. She must have gotten it right for once because he usually asked for a little bit more light.

  Her life had become this day-to-night routine, picking weeds and watering a life. Food and dishes and grocery shopping and staring out the front window. She’d found a ladies’ Bible study just down the street and the women were sweet. When they found out she was Mrs. Jed King, they made a big fuss, but then she became just one of the women. Someone with hurts and struggles like the rest of them. But no matter how good the study, she couldn’t bring herself to open up and talk about her real problems. That would somehow betray Jed, she thought.

  She headed to the sink as the front door opened and Jed walked in, his beard more full than she had ever seen it. He looked tired and road-weary but she couldn’t bring herself to run to him and hug him. There was so much of the past down deep, the best she could do was say, “Welcome home.”

  “Thank you.” He put the suitcase down and came behind her, putting a hand on her waist and leaning in. “Where’s Ray?”

  “He’s asleep.”

  “Good,” he said softly. Gently he brushed the hair from her neck. “Hi.”

  Rose stiffened. “I’m really tired, Jed.” She said it without feeling, without much hope. She tried to communicate something between the lines of her own song, but Jed wasn’t listening, wasn’t reading the music.

  “Me too. I’m exhausted. I’ve been gone a long time.”

  She sighed heavily and went back to the dishes. “How long are you home this time?”

  He retreated from the kitchen like a hurt puppy. Like a child who’d been told he couldn’t have the extra cookie. “The tour was great, Rose. Thanks for asking. I had a great time.”

  She turned her face to him. “I know how the tour was. I have the Internet. That’s how I get to know my husband.”

  He shot her a glance. “You have the money, too, right?”

  “You think that’s what I care about?” Her voice was pleading, hurt.

  “I think you care about your dad. And I can feel it. Every time I’m lying in bed. By myself.”

  “Thinking about all you care about,” she mumbled.

  “Rose, if that was all I cared about, I could get it. I wouldn’t have to come home.”

  She stared at him, disbelieving. How could his heart have turned so cold? Who was this man staring at her? “Can we at least talk first? ‘Hi, honey. How was your day? How was your year?’”

  “Don’t exaggerate. Don’t act like I haven’t seen you all year. Like we don’t have this same fight every two or three weeks.”

  “No, no. Those times, I was trying to get you to do something romantic.”

  “I was just trying to do something romantic.”

  “I’ve had to lower the bar since then . . . you know, ask you to talk or do something else besides just walk in and grab me.”

  “How awful for you, to feel desired by your spouse. It’s a terrible thing.”

  They were into it now, a full-throttle fight, and Rose could see his body tense. Before he could speak again, she snapped, “Just leave me alone, Jed.”

  “Forgive my insensitivity, Rose, but I don’t have a lot of experience in that recently.”

  She turned and moved away from him.

  His voice rose in intensity and volume. “Maybe you can tell me what that’s like.”

  “Leave me alone, Jed!” she yelled.

  And that seemed to bring him to his senses. “I’m sorry,” he said. He moved toward her now but she pulled into herself like an injured animal.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He took her hand and looked into her eyes.

  Just then Rose heard the sound of small feet padding on the hardwood. She turned to see Ray looking at them from the other end of the kitchen. His face was contorted as if he were trying to understand a story that didn’t have a moral to it. A story with a sadly-ever-after ending.

  “Baby, come here,” she said.

  “Hey,” Jed said. “Hey, buddy!”

  Ray ran to Rose and she picked him up and held him in her arms.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?” Ray said.

  “Nothing, baby. Everything’s fine. It’s okay. I just miss your daddy.” She looked at Jed and for the first time felt like they connected. “That’s all. Let’s go to bed.”

  Rose was on her side of the bed, turned away from him, when Jed slipped beneath the co
vers. There was a Grand Canyon between them and no words or actions could span the gulf. At least that’s what she thought.

  “I know I’ve hurt you. I know you don’t want to hear that I’m sorry for the things I’ve said. I get that. But I have an idea. Let’s go to your dad’s place. We can leave in the morning, early, and go over there and stay all day. Stay a few days if he’ll have us.”

  “You think that’s going to solve everything between me and you?”

  “No, I don’t think it will solve anything. What it’ll do is give us some time together. I think that’s what we need. And you need to see that I want more from you than just, you know. Just me grabbing you.”

  Rose was crying now, wet tears rolling onto her pillow. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d made her cry like that, so she let them fall without brushing them away.

  “I think I’m at a crossroads here,” he said. “We’ve hit this level where everything has come together and we either go to the next plateau or we fall.”

  “You talking about us or the band?” she said.

  “Us. But it applies to the band too.” He propped himself up against the headboard and sighed. “Remember that night when I asked for wisdom? When you encouraged me to do that?”

  “I remember.”

  “I feel like God honored that. Like he gave me what I asked for. He gave me you. And he gave me the music that’s touching people’s hearts. I love what I do. I hate the travel. I hate being away from you. But I love singing my songs and making music that feels like it’s changing the world a little.”

  He rolled over, not touching her, but getting closer. “I’d give it up in a minute if I had to. If it meant I was losing you, I’d give it up totally. But I don’t think it has to be either-or. I think we can make this work. I also feel like I’ve failed at the most important hearts I’ve been given to reach. Yours and Ray’s.”