Lost Melody

by Roz Lee

  Diane continued to scour the pot submerged in the soapy water. “Will you be coming back here? You know I want you to be here for Christmas. I’ve invited Jonathan to come, too.”

  It was the first Melody had heard about her mother’s plans, and she didn’t bother to hide her surprise. “Did he accept?”

  “Yes. He said he’d love to come. I think he may be bringing someone with him. Who do you think it is?”

  “I have an idea, but it’s probably not who you think it is. My guess is he’s bringing his new girlfriend, Miriam Wallingford. You’ll like her, Mom. I think he’s fallen for someone.”

  “You don’t think he’ll bring Hank Travis?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “So, what’s Miriam like? Tell me everything you know.” She handed the clean pot to Melody to dry. “How did they meet?”

  It was a safe subject, and she really didn’t have much to tell. She had been so wrapped up in her own troubled relationship over the summer she’d hardly noticed what her Uncle Jonathan had been doing.

  Chapter Thirty

  Hank returned to the farm and filled his time helping with the cotton harvest. He welcomed the dawn-to-drop work schedule that kept him too busy to think about Melody more than a thousand times a day.

  He let his hair grow. By February, he would once again be the man his fans paid to see. In the past, the ritual elicited excitement, but lately he could hardly stand the sight of himself in the mirror.

  After the harvest, he turned to his music, sequestering himself in the barn for long hours composing and practicing. Plans were under way for the new tour and details requiring his attention poured in daily. Conference calls with the other band members and hours of discussion, compromise and negotiation added to his workload.

  In addition, there was the mixing. Since he lived closest to the mixing studio in Dallas, it fell on his shoulders to monitor the progress of the CD. Highest priority was given to mixing “Melody,” and he was relieved when he approved the final product. Guy assured him the single would hit the airways across the country on January fifteenth—Melody’s birthday.

  As the days flew by, each one bringing him closer to the release date, he questioned his decision over and over again.

  He spent Thanksgiving with his father and Sir Jonathan, who still resided in Melody’s house. They were four at the table. Jonathan brought along Miriam Wallingford, who Hank suspected was the real reason he remained in Willowbrook.

  “What are you going to do for Christmas?” Sir Jonathan asked Henry.

  “For the last few years we’ve gone skiing in Colorado. Are we going again this year, son?”

  “I bought our tickets, and I reserved the same condo we had last year. I thought it worked out pretty well. You could ski right up to the chair lift from the front door.”

  “Why don’t you two come along,” Henry asked the other couple. “There’s plenty of room.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Thanks for the invitation, but Miriam and I are going to San Diego. Diane asked us to come, and I told her we would.”

  “Is Melody there?” Hank asked.

  “I don’t know. Diane didn’t say, and Melody hasn’t called me in months.”

  Hank nodded. “I haven’t heard from her either. You’ll let me know how she’s doing if you see her?”

  “Sure. She’ll be in touch soon,” he assured.

  “Thanks.” He hoped Jonathan was right. Every day Melody didn’t call or even email, he felt her slipping further away from him.

  * * *

  Sir Jonathan answered the doorbell. “Hank. It’s great to see you.” He held the screened door open. “Come in.”

  He stepped into Melody’s living room. “Thanks. I should have called first,” he apologized.

  Jonathan waved him to a chair. “No need. I was just sitting here wondering what to do next. So…what brings you my way today?”

  “I was hoping you could deliver something to Melody for me.” He pulled a small box wrapped clumsily in red Christmas paper from his coat pocket. “If she’s at her mother’s, will you give her something for me?” He passed the gift to Jonathan.

  Jonathan weighed it in the palm of his hand. One eyebrow rose, questioning. “Is there something in here?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. I’d rather not say what it is, but you won’t get arrested at the airport for carrying it.”

  “Well, that’s good.” Jonathan laughed. “I’ll give it to her.” He turned serious. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay, I guess. Could be better.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer.”

  Jonathan nodded. “Okay, ask away.”

  “How did you feel when you retired? What was it like to walk away from the business like you did?”

  Jonathan set the present for Melody on the table. “Are you thinking about retiring?”

  Hank sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just don’t know if I can do it. What was it like?”

  “You have to understand, I didn’t walk away by choice. When Milton died, a part of me died, too. We’d been as close as brothers, and his death hit me hard. It hit us all, knocked the wind right out of us. So we walked away. You’re talking about walking away in the prime of your career. Do you think Melody will come running if you quit? And if she does, will you be able to live with yourself and your choice?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I would do anything to have her in my life, and then I try to imagine what I would do with myself if I quit, and I can’t see it. The thing is, I don’t know if I can continue performing without her. But on the other hand, I may never have her if I don’t walk away from it.”

  “I can’t tell you what to do. You remind me of Milton when he was your age. You have a talent as big, maybe bigger than his. His life was cut short by circumstances beyond his control. But I can tell you this, he had to make a similar choice once, and it nearly ended his career. I watched him struggle with his decision for months, and from his struggle came the best piece of music he ever wrote. Eventually, he came to accept that he’d made the only decision he could, and he lived with the consequences every day after that.”

  Hank nodded in understanding. “Thanks. I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I appreciate you telling me the story. I don’t know about the talent thing, but I’m not stupid enough to argue with Sir Jonathan Youngblood. So, I’ll just say thank you for the vote of confidence.”

  “You’re welcome. For what it’s worth, I think she’ll come around. She loves you. No doubt about it.” He paused. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “She didn’t approve that version of ‘Melody,’ did she?”

  “No.”

  “Has she heard it?”

  “I played it for her once. I promised her no one would ever hear it.”

  “You’re taking a big risk, son.”

  “I know, but it was the only thing I could think of to make her see what she means to me.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know if you’ve made a wise decision with the song, but it’s a bloody masterpiece, in my opinion. If she sues you over it, I’ll be happy to testify in your defense.”

  “There you go again with the flattery, and I may be calling on you to testify, so don’t be surprised.”

  “It’s not flattery if it’s true, and I would be surprised if she sues you. She may never speak to you again, but I doubt she’ll take legal action.”

  Hank stood and zipped his coat. “I’d rather she sue me than quit speaking to me. At least if she takes me to court, I’ll get to see her. It could take years to sort it out in the court system.”

  Jonathan stood, too. “You could probably drag it through the system in two countries if you put your mind to it. It could go on for a lifetime.”

  Hank
smiled. “Good to know. I’ll hang onto that happy thought. Thanks again.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Melody took care of her business in New York then spent a few extra days shopping and enjoying the holiday decorations. She stood in line to glimpse the elaborate window displays at Saks and Macy’s. She bought gifts for her friends in Willowbrook and arranged to have them wrapped and shipped. For her mother, she purchased a beautiful jewelry box and a pair of diamond earrings to place inside as an extra surprise.

  Strolling in the Chelsea Art District, she found the perfect gift for Hank in the window of a small gallery on W. 25th Street. The oil painting, in the impressionist style, depicted a couple and a black dog walking along a dirt road. Their destination, a small brook, could be seen in the distance. Summer heat all but shimmered off the painting, relieved by the cool blue water hinting at relief from the relentless sun.

  A woman exited the gallery and approached her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Focusing on the artwork she could see through the window, she asked, “Do you work here?”

  “I’m Sunny Sheldon. Sunnyside is my gallery. Would you like to come in?”

  She glanced once again at the painting and nodded. “Yes, I would. I want that painting.” She pointed to the summer scene.

  Inside, she fell in love with several of the artists’ works and bought one for herself and the one in the window for Hank. She handed over her credit card and arranged to have the paintings shipped.

  “Are you the Melody Ravenswood?” She handed the credit card back and slid the charge slip and a pen across her desk.

  Melody froze. Of all the purchases she had made in the last few days, this woman was the first person who had actually noticed the name on her card. “Yes, I am.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I know what it’s like living in the shadow of a legend. My father is Curtis Sheldon, the actor.”

  Her matter-of-fact speech put Melody at ease. “Oh! I love his movies. I guess you do know what it’s like. I’ve just recently gone public. I’ve been trying to hide for most of my life. Well, my entire life actually. I’m not used to being recognized.”

  “I’ve been living with the notoriety since the day I was born. You get used to it, sort of. But there are a few things you can do to minimize the intrusion in your life. I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”

  “Would you? I need all the help I can get.”

  “Are you free tonight? I know a great restaurant…”

  * * *

  Melody almost didn’t recognize her new friend when she arrived at the small restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen. Sunny had changed out of her business suite into jeans, a black turtleneck sweater, and Ugg boots. Her long yellow-blonde hair was hidden under a knit cap. She had transformed from the sophisticated gallery owner to just another busy shopper in Manhattan. She blended in seamlessly.

  Sunny talked about what it was like growing up the daughter of a well-known movie star. Her mother wasn’t part of the business, much like Melody’s, and the women quickly found many areas of common ground. Sunny was two years older than Melody, but had a lifetime of experience dealing with being the offspring of a celebrity.

  “I admit, I’m probably not as newsworthy as you are,” Sunny said, “but I’ve found if you act like a non-celebrity, the world treats you like one. I don’t do anything to draw attention to myself…unless I’m in the market for attention, say for a charity event. Otherwise, I dress like everyone else. I keep a low profile, and when there is something newsy going on in my life, I smile for the cameras and let them take all the pictures they want. I go to great pains to make sure I’m as dull as dishwater the rest of the time, and they leave me alone. In other words, I hide in plain sight.”

  “I don’t know how well it would work for me,” Melody said.

  Sunny shrugged. “You’re big news because you just popped back up on the radar. Given what you’ve told me about the way your father died, there’s going to be some interest about you ever so often. My advice? Give them what they want. A few photo ops, release a statement through a publicist, lay low somewhere, and they’ll go away. Think about it. It’s the same people in the tabloids all the time.”

  “I guess you’re right. There are lots of people you never hear anything about.”

  “That’s because they don’t draw attention to themselves, and if someone wants a photo, they smile and let them take one. The tabloid photographers are trying to make a living. Give them something to sell once and awhile, and they’ll be a lot nicer to you. Like I said, there are certain times when they might come hunting for you, but if you’re proactive, you can manage them to suit you.”

  “You’ve given me something to think about,” Melody admitted. “I just wish the interest would die down.”

  “It will. Give it time. But if you just go about your business and smile for a camera once in a while, then when you want some publicity for the book you wrote, the media types will be more likely to give you good press.”

  * * *

  Melody scanned the crowd of holiday travelers at San Diego’s Lindbergh Field, looking for familiar faces.

  “Uncle Jonathan,” she cried. “It’s so good to see you.” She threw her arms around him as he stepped off the escalator.

  He returned her hug. “Hello, luv. I’ve missed you. You remember Miriam don’t you?” He reached for the woman accompanying him. She’d been right about Jonathan’s traveling companion, and though she hadn’t had a chance to get to know Miriam yet, she couldn’t be happier for Jonathan. It was about time he found someone who recognized what a wonderful man he was. She only hoped Miriam had the fortitude to stick it out once Jonathan’s career got back into full swing. He’d need a strong woman by his side.

  Melody smiled at the older woman. “Sure I do. I’m so glad you could come.” She gave her a warm hug. “Let’s get your luggage. You’ll be staying with me. My house is larger than Mom’s, and she’s agreed to have Christmas dinner there as well.”

  While they waited for the luggage at the carousel, Jonathan pulled Miriam close. “Melody, we have a surprise.”

  “Oh? Am I going to like it?”

  “I hope so, luv.” He gave his companion a little squeeze. “I asked this lovely lady to marry me, and she said yes!”

  Happiness radiated off the couple like the midday sun reflecting off the ocean. Melody embraced them both. “I couldn’t be happier! When’s the big day? Are you going to have a big wedding? Am I invited?”

  “We’ll tell you everything.” He grabbed their bags off the carousel. “Let’s get out of here first.”

  Later, sitting on the patio sipping champagne, the happy couple regaled Mel with their plans for a fall wedding in Willowbrook. After they were married, they planned to split their time between England and Texas, spending summers at Ravenswood, and winters in Texas.

  She was genuinely happy for them, but she secretly wondered if Miriam knew what she was getting herself into. Christmas Eve, she walked alongside the older blonde on the beach, enjoying the sunshine and the soothing sound of the surf. She couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

  “Miriam, are you ready for the kind of public life Uncle Jonathan leads? After the ‘Melody’ tour, he’s going to be in demand as much as he ever was. The paparazzi will be everywhere, even in Willowbrook.”

  The older woman continued walking as she chose her words. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve given it a lot of thought. I love Jonathan more than anything. Being with him means more to me than my privacy does. Besides, the reporters won’t be inside our house with us. We aren’t going to do one of those daily life reality shows or anything. Jonathan assures me when he’s not on tour, he plans to lead a rather quiet life. The paparazzi follow the people who insist on throwing themselves into the limelight. We have no intention of doing that.”

  “What about the times when you’ll be out in the social whirl? Uncle Jonathan said he wanted to get back i
nto the business, which means public appearances and even more tours maybe. How will you deal with all of that?”

  Miriam’s voice relayed confidence. “We’ll handle it together. I’ll stand by his side and he’ll stand by mine. I won’t hold him back, if that’s what you’re concerned about. He’s an incredibly talented musician. If he wants to share his talent with the world, I wouldn’t hold him back, but the rest of him is mine and mine alone.”

  “I wasn’t concerned about you holding him back. I don’t think you could, even if you tried. He’s come out of his self-imposed retirement, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be going back anytime soon. I’m really glad he’ll have you by his side. I think you’ll be good for him. He’s been alone for a long time.”

  “So have I. I was married once, a lifetime ago. We weren’t together very long before he was taken from me. We didn’t have any children, something I always wanted. That’s past both of us, but we’ll have each other, and I hope we’ll have you, too. I know Jonathan thinks of you as a daughter.”

  “He’s been a father to me for almost seventeen years. I love him with all my heart. That won’t ever change.” They stopped at the wooden staircase winding up the cliff face to her house. “I’m glad you’ll be staying at Ravenswood part of the year. The summers there are beautiful.”

  Miriam hugged her tight. “Thank you. I can see why Jonathan loves you so much. I’m honored to be part of your family.”

  Melody’s mother joined them for dinner and stayed the night so they could get an early start opening presents the next day. Melody woke to the smell of coffee and bacon. She found her mother and Miriam laughing and working together. Diane regaled Miriam with stories of Jonathan during the years they toured together with RavensBlood.