by Roz Lee
She let her head drop back against the sofa. She supposed he was right. The talent was obviously there, and it wasn’t going to go away. She should embrace it to whatever degree it would manifest itself. She didn’t think she had the ability to compose original music, but she could play by ear. It was a good parlor trick, at least.
“Uncle Jonathan, I’m far from being a musical genius.” An understatement if there ever was one. “I’ll leave the composing to you. Thanks for telling me about Daddy. It does help, and of course the tea helped, too.” She set her mug on the coffee table. “I’ll be okay. I’m not sure if Hank and I can work out our differences or not, but you shouldn’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help but worry about you. What else is bothering you? You can tell me.”
No, she couldn't. Jonathan had never blamed her for her father's death, but she knew in her heart he did. Everyone did. How could they not?
“Nothing. Really, I’m fine.” Liar.
“For the record, I think you’re making a mistake pushing Hank away. He's a good man, and if you love him, you should hold onto him with everything you’ve got. A love so powerful doesn’t come along every day you know. Take me for example. I’ve been searching for it all my life, and believe me, when I find it I won’t let it go without a fight.”
* * *
Hank stood in the doorway to his office, watching her work. Her dark hair fell from a high ponytail, exposing the creamy curve of her neck as she bent over the computer keyboard. His fingertips itched to touch her, to trace the graceful lines of her curves, to feel her satin skin.
“Hi.”
She glanced up with wide eyes. The ponytail swung down her back. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I thought you should know Guy arranged for a photographer and a video crew to come out next week. They’ll be here off and on until we’re through recording.”
“Why?”
“For the cover shoot. We’ve asked Jonathan to be in it. He said he would be honored. Can you imagine? Honored. We’re the ones who are honored.” He shook his head. “Anyway, the video crew will tape some of the recording sessions. Pieces of it will be used during the tour and to promote the CD when it’s released.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. I think Uncle Jonathan would recommend you all for Knighthood if he could.”
“He’s the best. I don’t think we could have done made the album without him.”
“What about me? I mean, in regards to the photographer and video crew.”
What about you? You're gorgeous, smart, stubborn, and I'd give anything to touch you right this minute. “If you don’t want them to know who you are, they won’t. We’ll keep your secret.”
“Okay. I’d appreciate it. I’ll keep a low profile, just in case.”
He nodded. Whatever you want. “I’ll talk to everyone and let them know.” He turned to go.
“Thanks. I’m almost through anyway. I’ll be spending less time here over the next few weeks. I can work on the last articles and the book at home.”
With a silent nod of acknowledgment, he left. Nothing had changed. She was still bent on running and hiding.
She stared at the empty doorway long after he was gone. He hadn’t argued with her about her choice to remain out of the public eye. Not like before. After all the times she had tried to get him to understand her reasoning, he did. He wasn’t going to push her to come out of hiding.
She should be happy she had won him over to her way of thinking, but instead, all she felt was…lost. And alone in an empty prison of her own making.
He loved her enough to let her live the life she saw for herself. He wouldn’t try to force her into one she didn’t want.
It was as if she’d turned a page in a book and there it was—the truth. He had tried to make her see it. The only thing standing between her and a lifetime of happiness were her own hang-ups.
I love him. He loves me.
The hopeless paralysis that had engulfed her for so long vanished. She wasn’t free, but she wanted to be free, and it made all the difference. Hank was right. The choice was hers to make. Happiness or miserable loneliness.
I choose happiness. I choose Hank.
But it wasn’t so simple. Making the decision to be happy was the easy part. Actually achieving happiness would require a lot of hard work. She’d lost her way a long time ago, and she needed time to find it again.
I have to find out who I am before I can be who I want to be.
Her head spun with images, flashes of what could be. She saw her life with Hank, the children they would have. That was the life she wanted. That was the life she would have.
His words came back to her. “When you come to your senses, I’ll be here waiting for you.”
Wait for me, Hank. Please, wait for me.
Chapter Twenty-five
She had a plan, and as soon as the photography crews hit town, she made herself scarce. She spent her days with her laptop in her home office and finished the promised articles for the Gazette. She dropped them off before they were due and handed in her resignation at the same time.
She polished her book outline and wrote several chapters. It took days to research literary agents online and compile a list to query. She had to stop and take calming breaths before she took the next step toward claiming her life. With trembling hands, she typed her name on the bottom of the first query letter. Melody Harper Ravenswood.
It was shocking to see it in print. Even her high school and college diplomas didn’t have her full name on them. She checked the paper tray on her new printer and bit her bottom lip as she hit the print button.
She practiced her signature a few times on a notepad before affixing it to the letters. Just for fun, she tried writing Melody Travis a few times. It looked good. Really good. But before she could be Melody Travis, she needed to learn to be Melody Ravenswood.
She stared at the strange signature for a moment before folding the letters and sealing them in the appropriate envelopes. She drove to the post office and tossed them into the drive thru drop box before she lost her nerve. Trembling, she pulled to the curb until she was calm enough to continue.
It was done. The letters were signed, sealed, and delivered. No going back.
She pulled into a parking space as close to the Donut Hole as she could find. She pasted a smile on her face and went inside. Cathy spotted her immediately and waved her to the side.
“Mel, you’re shaking. What’s the matter? Come in the back and tell me what’s wrong.” Cathy led her around the counter to her office. She pushed her into a chair. “Wait here.”
Cathy returned with two hot chocolates and a plate of doughnuts. “Here, eat, then tell me what’s got you in such a state.”
Her hands trembled too hard to hold a mug, and she didn’t think she could keep anything down the way her stomach was churning. “Thanks. I shouldn’t have come here. You’re busy. I should go.”
“You aren’t going anywhere. I’m not so busy I can’t take a few minutes for a friend, so tell me what happened.”
She took a deep breath and told her about the letters she’d written. “I guess I needed to tell somebody what I’d done.” Calmer, she sipped the chocolate and bit into a glazed doughnut. “Thanks for listening. And for the sugar, too.”
Cathy whistled low. “Wow! So, you’re going public?”
“Yep.”
“I think that’s fantastic, but why now?”
“It hit me a few days ago. I love Hank. I want a life with him, and the only way I’m going to have one, is to get my act together. He accused me of running and hiding. He said I was making excuses not to be with him. It took me a while to see it, but he was right. I’ve been Mel Harper for so long I lost track of who Melody Ravenswood is. I have to find her again. That’s the first step. You can’t even imagine how strange it was to see my own signature.” She laughed at herself. “I even had to practice before I signed the letters. Imagine. A woman my age having to practice her name like a
kid in grade school.”
“Have another doughnut. Your return to the real world is cause for celebration if I ever heard it.” They ate in silence for a few minutes. “What’s next?”
“I’m going to finish the book I started on Hank and BlackWing. It would be great if I could sell it, but if I can’t….” She shrugged. “I’m going to write my dad’s biography.”
Cathy froze, her cup of chocolate midway to her lips. “Are you sure you’re ready to do that?”
“I think I have to do it. I’ve given it a lot of thought. Writing the book will help me come to terms with what happened, so I can get on with my life. I need to ask the questions I was too young to ask when he died. I hope, once I have the answers, I’ll be able to move on. Either way, I have to learn to live with being Melody Ravenswood, and everything that means. Hank says he can live with it. But I'm not sure I can.”
“What do you mean?”
“I grew up in fear of being discovered by the paparazzi, and to hear my mother tell it, musicians will break your heart. If I'm to use her life as an example, and I have, then she makes a good case. But, being around Hank and the other band members, I've learned some things, and I can’t help but question the way I was brought up. My mother is going to have a cow if she starts seeing my name in the papers, but it's what I have to do. I have to find out who I am and deal with it.”
Cathy offered Melody another doughnut and took another one for herself, too. “What do you expect to find?”
“I know what happened to my dad, and there's no way around the fact he was coming to see me when his plane crashed. I'm just wondering why our family was in that situation in the first place. You know, my parents never divorced, don't you?”
“I think I remember hearing that.”
“Yeah, well, I, for one, want to understand why. Maybe if I dig into my father's life I can figure out why my mother and I lived the way we did. It was almost as if we were in the witness protection program or something. I didn't know any better when I was a kid. As an adult, I can see it wasn't normal. I need to know why.”
“What if you put yourself through all this soul searching and heartache and you still can’t face a life with Hank? What will you do?”
Mel swallowed hard, trying to force a bite of doughnut past the lump in her throat. There was too much on the line. Failure was not an option.
“I don’t know. But it’s past time for me to confront my mother, and even Uncle Jonathan about what happened. Hiding from it all these years hasn’t done me any good. It’s time for me to confront it, head-on.”
Cathy placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “I’ll be her for you. Just tell me how I can help.”
She squared her shoulders. “You can call me Melody for starters. It’s my name, and I’m going to start using it. Only two people have ever called me by my name. One of them is gone, and I pushed the other one away. I’m going to get to know the first one, and I’m going to get the other one back.”
Cathy embraced her. “Oh, Melody, I’m so happy for you. You’re going to be all right, I can see it. You and Hank are going to be so happy.” She sat back. “You aren’t going to drag him off to England to live, are you? I want you both to stay here in Willowbrook.”
Melody laughed. “No. I plan to fill his big old farmhouse with kids. Lots of them. Hank thinks we can live here without too much media attention. I hope he’s right.”
“I’m sure he is. So, how are you going about this return to the living?”
“I quit my job at the Gazette the other day. I’m going to Boston to interview some people about BlackWing, and I’m going to finish the book. It's almost done. After that, I’m going to confront my mother and Uncle Jonathan. I’ll interview everyone else I can think of who knew Daddy. I’ll probably spend quite a bit of time at Ravenswood, getting to know who he was, interviewing people he knew there. I may even stay there and write for a while.”
“What about Hank? Where does he fit into your plan?”
“I can’t be with him right now. I have to get my head on straight first. If I don’t do it while I’ve got the courage, I probably never will. He’s got to finish the album, and they’re going on tour soon. In January or February, I think.”
Cathy’s eyebrows shot up.“So soon? He just got back.”
“Yeah. I don’t know how they’re going to get the CD out so quick, but that’s what they’re planning. I think Uncle Jonathan is going to tour with them.”
“So, Hank's going to be on the road anyway?”
“Yes. And while he’s on tour, I’m going to find Melody Ravenswood.”
“I wish you all the luck, girlfriend.”
Chapter Twenty-six
She waited until late Friday afternoon to seek out Hank, hoping the video crew would be long gone by the time she reached the farm. Telling Hank about her plans would be hard enough. She had no desire to do it with a camera in her face.
Hank let her in—though he didn’t appear too happy about it. She followed him into the living room where he muted the television and plopped onto the sofa.
“Where is everybody?” she asked.
“Took the weekend off. It was either that or resort to murdering each other.” His weak smile suggested he wasn’t kidding. After spending weeks with them, she understood. Tensions sometimes ran high and though ideal in many ways, the close confines of the farm didn’t allow for a lot of personal space.
“Sounds like a good idea.”
Silence descended between them. Melody glanced around the room. A squashed juice box sat under a chair, and children’s books were stacked on every flat surface. Her gaze landed on Hank. He leaned on the arm of the sofa, one ankle crossed over his knee, staring at the silent television.
She wrung her hands. What had she expected, anyway? There was no one here so he had no need to pretend everything was all right between them.
“Hank.”
He looked at her. The blank expression on his face almost sent her running. He wasn’t going to make this conversation any easy for her. Okay, then.
“I came here to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, about us, about me…my life. I have no right to ask you to wait for me to get my act together, but I wanted you to know I’m working on it. I’ve made some changes, and some decisions. I’ve taken my name back. I’m Melody Ravenswood again. I’ve changed it on everything. My bank account, my driver’s license, everything. And I have a plan.”
Silence.
“Do you want to hear my plan?”
“Does it end with you marrying me?”
She wished she could say it was a certainty, but she couldn’t. Instead, she opted for honesty. “It’s my goal.”
He nodded. “Okay. What’s your plan?”
The longer she talked, the hotter his blood boiled. He ground his teeth and forced himself to appear calm on the outside. Hear her out. Don’t jump to conclusions.
“So…that’s my plan,” she concluded with a sigh.
Seriously? She calls that a plan? He stared at her and silently counted to ten. Exploding in a fit of rage wouldn’t get him anywhere.
He cleared his throat and willed his voice to a conversational tone. “What about us? I didn’t hear anything in your plan about us being together while you work through your issues.” Not one single goddamned word.
“I need to do this by myself, Hank. When we’re together, I can’t think straight. It would be too easy for me to hide behind our relationship, use it as an excuse to ignore everything else. I can’t see anything else when I’m with you.”
He stood and paced across the room, keeping his back to her while he tried to rein in his anger. She might as well have taken a kitchen knife to his gut. His stomach cramped and his knees threatened to give out.
What if she didn’t come back? What would he do then?
An invisible band tightened around his chest, and he fought to bring air in
to his lungs. He had to reach her, make her see what she was doing.
He faced her. “I’m proud of you for taking the steps you have. Taking your name back is big. But please, don’t do cut me out of your life. I want to be there for you, but I can’t help you if you leave.”
She stood, but as if an invisible barrier separated them, she remained across the room, cold and distant.
“I’m sorry. Please don’t think you don’t matter. You do. More than anything. I love you, and I want to be your wife.”
He ran a trembling hand through his hair.
“You’re everything to me,” she said. “Can’t you see? I have to do this for myself, for us. If I can’t learn to live with who I am, I’ll never be able to live with who you are, who we would be together.”
His heart knocked against his ribs. What could he do to convince her to stay? There was only one thing he could think of. Desperate, he laid his last card on the table. “What if I quit? Retire. I can after the ‘Melody’ tour. I’ve been thinking about if for a while. I don’t need the money. I need you.”
She shook her head, and his heart sank.
“You told me once you couldn’t change who you were. You can’t give up your music any more than you can give up breathing. I won’t ask you to try. All I'm asking is you give me some time to figure out who Melody Ravenswood is before I become Melody Travis. I don't want to begin a new life with all my past hanging over my head. I need to understand what happened to my family, what happened to me.”
He stared at her, searching for a crack in her veneer. But she’d made up her mind, and nothing he might say was going to change it. He tucked his hands in his pockets in an effort to appear casual, as if she hadn’t just gutted him.
