by Emma Tharp
“You don’t have to be sorry. None of this is your fault.” There’s a sharp edge to his voice.
“Okay.” With every word of this conversation, it feels like another boulder is moving between us, broadening the wedge there. “Are we okay, Ethan? I have to know.”
“Christ. I think so. I mean… If I’m honest, I’m not sure if I know who you are anymore. The job you have isn’t you and I absolutely hate it. If I think about it too long I want to punch things. And you told me that you didn’t want to sing without me anymore, but as soon as the opportunity arises, you sell me out. It’s confusing me and fucking with my head.”
“But wait. That’s not true.”
“No. What’s not true is what you’re saying and doing. There’s no congruency.” A beep sounds over the line. “Shit, it’s my mother. I have to take this. As far as things go with us, I need a minute. Okay?”
I’m stunned silent and I have no words left to say. “Okay,” I whisper.
He hangs up and I stare at the phone as tears rain down my cheeks.
Another glass of wine and a half a box of tissues later, I’m sitting in my room with my guitar over my shoulder.
Without my sister here and my heart in pieces, I need an outlet. Music has always been it for me. It doesn’t matter what’s going on in my life, I can find peace in notes and lyrics, comfort in getting lost in the process of putting random chords together into something new and meaningful to me.
Memories of sitting on my dad’s lap with the guitar and his big hand over mine flood in. He smelled like spicy aftershave and spearmint. The scruff from his beard used to rub over the smooth skin of my shoulder and it’d tickle me and make me laugh. “This is how you play this song, watch me.”
I’d stare intently at every strum of his finger and mimic it the best I could. “Like this?”
“Good job, peanut. You’re a natural.” His praise and warm smile filled me with love and confidence.
Any spare time my father had, I’d beg him to teach me new songs and he never turned me down. It made him proud that I picked up music and loved it like he did. It was our special, unbreakable bond. Rachel would join us from time to time, but she didn’t crave it like I did. You’d never have to ask me twice if I wanted to play; the answer was always yes.
Ethan and my dad always got along, sharing their mutual love of sports, music, and me. Dad would tell me not to let the good ones slip away and Ethan was a good one. Funny how after his death, I did the exact thing he told me not to do.
So tonight, I have my father with me as I strum my guitar and write lyrics about losing love and finding it again and not letting it slip away.
It’s an easy write, and it flows out of me. Feelings and emotions that have been pushed down for years bubble up and spill out. It’s a cleansing experience, taking me through the first time I saw Ethan back in high school, to our first date at a Chinese restaurant, to our first kiss, when he took my virginity, the ups and downs with the band, to the day I said goodbye and left him behind, and rediscovering each other again. It’s like a movie playing in my mind, one I love and never want to end.
The song is the best I’ve written. I call it “Forever Just Us.” Ethan and I wrote a song called “Always Just Us” back in school. It was when our love was new and it’s deeply emotional. The song I wrote tonight is one I know Ethan would love and I hope he gives me the chance to play it for him.
“It’s a good song, Dad. I think you’d like it.” A tear slides down my cheek. “Thank you for teaching me to love music. When I play, I know you’re with me. But it’s time to let you go. I think it’s the only way I’m going to be able to let Ethan back in.”
I’m not foolish enough to believe that my father will ever be forgotten because he never will be. But when he died, a deep-rooted fear of losing anyone I loved wrapped its claws around my heart and I naively thought that the only way to protect myself from that kind of pain was to avoid it all together, to keep love at arm’s length.
I’m done with that. And now I’ve got a plan to change things around for me. I can only hope I’m not too late.
9
Caroline
It’s no surprise that Ethan hasn’t answered my phone calls the last two days. I’ve upset him and he told me he needed a minute. If I were a patient woman, I’d give it to him, but I’ve used it all up in the last five years, the well is dry. Now I’m a persistent woman and I don’t plan on stopping until I get what I want. That’s why I called Marcus Campbell at IM Records and now I’m sitting in the reception area outside his office.
The leg peeking out of my navy blue pencil skirt bounces of its own volition, up and down over and over again. I attempt to stop it but it just starts going again when I think about what I’m going to do. I could back out now. I haven’t opened my mouth yet, but the only reason I’d hold back is because of fear.
Screw fear.
This could have negative consequences, but I made up my mind last night and there’s no going back now.
Marcus’s secretary tells me that he’s ready to see me.
Standing on unsteady legs, I lift my chin and walk in his office with as much fake confidence as I can muster.
“Ms. Carter, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Marcus Campbell sits behind his grand desk looking dapper and relaxed. His navy suit jacket is unbuttoned, a white crisp dress shirt, and maroon silk tie on display. Not a hair on his head looks out of place and he’s wearing a pair of dark rimmed glasses today.
“Thank you for taking the meeting with me today. I realize you’re a busy man,” I say, my heart pounding in my chest, I’m surprised my voice didn’t waver. No, it was clear and concise.
“It’s not a problem. Why don’t you have a seat?” He points toward the chair across from his desk.
Sitting down, I tuck the bottom of my skirt under me and sit up as straight as possible like I’ve got a metal rod in my spine holding me up to my full height, extra support so I don’t slump over in fear during this meeting. “First of all, I wanted to tell you how truly grateful I am that you saw something in me and decided to take a chance on me. I know how lucky I am.”
“You’ve got talent, that’s what I saw. And the rest of the team agreed when you came in last week.” He sets his forearms on the desk and leans in closer. “You got here because you deserve it, it wasn’t luck.”
“Thank you. And I know you’ve got an ear for talent because of the acts you’ve signed. That’s why I brought you this.” Standing, I pull the thumb drive out of my purse and hand it to him.
There’s a hard set to his jaw when he asks, “What’s this?”
“It’s music, of my band. I’d like to ask you to listen to it. If you think I’m good, you need to hear us all together. We’re right up your alley. You signed The JoJos and Tomorrow Never Dies. We have a similar sound to the both of them, but in our own unique way. Please listen.” My voice and eyes plead with him.
Rolling the thumb drive over and over in his hand, he says, “Do you have any idea how many of these I get in a day, and that’s on top of emails with links to SoundCloud or YouTube channels and snail mail packages?” he asks with a slight note of impatience in his tone.
It’s overwhelming to think of how many he must receive. Everyone insisting they are the latest and greatest thing, like I’m doing now. I do my best not to pale and cower away. “I’m sure you get hundreds of them. And they might be wonderful artists, but I don’t know what they sound like. I do know how we sound. And I’d be forever grateful if you’d listen to one track. Just one.”
“Just one? You think that’d be enough to sell me?” He raises a speculative brow.
My heart hammers in my chest. “I do.”
He sets the drive down on his desk and taps his finger against it. “And let’s say I listen to it. Then what? Where are you going with this?”
Licking my lips, I push out a breath and say, “I’d like you to consider bringing us in front of the team. If you all like u
s, I’d rather sign a contract with the band and not go it solo.”
“Wow.” He pushes his hands back and clasps them behind his neck. “I have to say, I didn’t see this coming. You’re bold. Do you know that? I’ve never had anyone who was offered a contract come in here and fall on their sword to get anyone else signed.” He’s got a disbelieving grin mixed with something else, admiration maybe.
“I believe in us, Mr. Campbell. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t.”
He nods and sticks the thumb drive in his computer. His hand moves his mouse around and in a few seconds the familiar music starts to Always Just Us. Darren on the piano starts the song, warm and strident. My voice begins the haunting melody. Our guitars come in next, a mix of Ethan’s low bassy tones and Rachel’s and my higher twangs. Tom’s drum beats a thick timbre and I can’t help but tap my toes against the floor. It’s nearly impossible for me to not hum or sing along.
It’s encouraging to see Marcus’s pen tap against the desk to the beat, but his expression is unreadable.
Ethan and I belt out the lyrics about finding each other and learning what love is and how no matter what happens, it’ll always be just us. It’s the first time I’ve listened to the song in years and it tugs at my heart. The band wanted to play it at the reunion, but I wasn’t ready to sing it yet, the emotions were too deep and they bubbled up when they asked me to play it. It was my favorite and the lyrics sink into me and bring me back to the time Ethan and I wrote it in his bedroom at his parents’ house. We’d play for a while and get caught up in it and set our guitars down and make out. A smile spreads across my lips.
“I like it,” Mr. Campbell says as the song comes to the end. He taps on his forehead with his finger, his lips are in a pucker, and he’s giving me a sidelong glance.
I stare at him, willing him to tell me what I want to hear.
“It’s a quality song and the production is good, too. If I give you a shot, can you get everyone here next week?”
“Yes.” I nearly jump out of my chair I’m so excited. Even though I haven’t even asked everyone if they’d even like to get the band back together, I’m guessing based on what everyone talked about when I was back home at the reunion, they all seemed on board if we did get back together. Now let’s hope they’ll all show up here next week. So many logistics to iron out. I’ve got my work cut out for me.
“Okay, I’ll have my secretary forward you the information. Don’t make me regret this decision.”
“I won’t, sir.” If it’s the last thing I do, I won’t.
“Hi,” I say to my sister when she picks up. “When are you coming back to Nashville?”
“Tomorrow. I thought I told you that.”
“Sorry, I thought it was today. I’ve got some good news and I’d like to share it with you in person, but I can’t wait.” I called her the second I got to the parking lot. I’m bouncing up and down, unable to contain my excitement.
“What’s up?”
“Any interest in getting the band back together?” She has to say yes. There isn’t another option, but I ask the question anyway.
“Do you even have to ask?” Rachel’s voice goes up a notch.
“Are you with Tom?”
“Yes.”
Opening the door to my car, I slide into the seat. “Ask him what he thinks.”
There’s some mumbling in the background like she’s put her hand over the phone. “He said of course.”
I do an air fist pump and say, “Great. Can you put me on speaker phone?”
“Done. Tell us what you’ve got planned.” There’s curiosity in her tone.
“Hi, Caroline.” The deep timbre of Tom’s voice greets me.
“Hey, Tom. It’s good to hear your voice. I’m glad you guys are together. I had a meeting today with Marcus Campbell at IM Records. I played him one of our demos and he wants us to come in and play for the team. Next week. You think everyone will be on board?” The words spill out in a fast tumble from my lips.
“What?” Rachel’s voice is loud with excitement.
“Are you kidding?” Tom asks.
“No, guys. I just left his office. Tell me you think everyone will want this. I stuck my neck out on the line.” It sinks in now how much I’m risking in the hopes I can fix what I ruined when I left and the band broke up. We all dreamed of making it and getting signed. I hope they all still want this.
“This is amazing. We will all get our asses there next week if I have to drag them,” Tom says, his tone playful.
I sag in my seat, relief starting to wash over me. “Can you guys get in touch with Darren today? I’ll call Ethan.”
“He doesn’t know yet?” Rachel chimes in.
I’m silent for a moment. I don’t like to admit defeat and that’s how this feels. “He’s upset with me, but it’ll be fine. Call Darren and get back in touch as soon as you hear from him.” I’ll be at the edge of my seat until I get confirmation.
“We’ll take care of it. This is the best news. Thank you so much for setting this up,” Rachel says.
“No problem. Now call Darren. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” they say in unison.
Before I leave the parking lot, I call Ethan.
My heart drops when he doesn’t answer.
“Ethan, please call me as soon as you can. I’m so sorry about everything. I know you needed a minute, but I’ve got some exciting news that you’ll love to hear.” I decide to give him a little teaser to tempt him to call. “I met with Marcus Campbell today. I gave him our old demos. Call me as soon as possible.”
With bated breath, I drive home hoping he gets the message and isn’t too upset to call me back. Daydreams of Ethan and I and having a new future where we live together and tour together come to mind. Hope and anticipation take up residence in my belly.
Not a minute into my drive, my phone rings. It’s him. I turn my Bluetooth on.
“Hello,” I greet him, unable to hide my excitement.
“I got your message.” I love hearing his voice, even if there’s still some distance there. It’s amazing how much more alive I feel the second he speaks. My hope is by the time this call is over, his mood will change and he’ll warm up to me again.
“Thanks for returning my call.”
“It sounded important,” he says, curiosity tinges his tone.
“Yes. It is. First, let me say how sorry I am. I know we’ve gone over this and you asked for a minute, but this couldn’t wait. But before I go on, I’ve been worried sick about your dad. How is he?”
“He seems better. He’s been taking it easy and getting more rest.”
I’m immediately relieved. “Great news.”
“Thanks. It is. What about you, what did you want to tell me?” He’s a little impatient. I hear it in his tone.
Gripping the steering wheel, I can barely contain my joy in sharing the news with him. “I told you that I saw Marcus Campbell today. It was a meeting that I requested. Since you left all I could think about is how much I miss you and how bad I want to sing with you and the rest of the band, too, so I brought the demo we had and begged him to listen. He chose one track and it was ‘Always Just Us.’”
“Oh,” he says, there’s some pleasure in his voice with this information. “What did he say?”
A wave of exhilaration works its way through me. Sharing this news with him is like a dream come true. I hope he’s as proud of me as I am of myself. “He liked it and thought the production was good. And the best part is that he wants the band to play for his team next week. Do you want to do it? Will you fly here?”
He’s quiet. I wish he’d say something and share what he’s thinking with me. I tap my left foot on the floorboard and wait for his response, feeling like I might burst waiting for it.
“I think I can do it. Have you talked to anyone else?” There’s next to no emotion in his tone. What the hell? If I were close to him, in the same room, I’d grab his shoulders and shake him.
; “Rachel and Tom are in, and they’re getting in touch with Darren now. I wanted to tell you.”
“Thank you for the call, and for doing that. It couldn’t have been easy for you.”
My heart warms. “No, it wasn’t, but I wanted to. So much. Can you get here next week?”
“I’ll be there. Message me the details when you have them. I’ve got to go.”
I try not to sound disappointed even though I am. At least he’s coming here. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.”
“Goodbye, Caroline.”
“Bye bye,” I say.
He was still keeping his distance. He’s still hurt, but when he gets here it’ll be my job to close it and bring him closer to me.
The sweet sound of tuning guitars and cymbals clanging fills the space in a sound room of IM Records. Today is the day.
Everyone flew in this morning and Rachel and I picked them up at the airport. Energy and excitement buzz all around us. None of them can believe that they’re actually here and this is happening. I can barely believe it myself.
The air around Ethan is still cool. He was cordial when he first got here, giving me a kiss on the cheek and saying thank you. It’s okay for now. I’m going to let him have his minute, but I won’t give up on him.
Tom and Rachel are another story. They are beyond taken with each other. The second he got here he took her in his arms and gave her a romance movie worthy kiss. I can’t help but be envious.
Rachel and I have been rehearsing since she got home last week and the guys have been, too, back in Pennsylvania. We’ve had Skype calls and many phone calls to go over the song choices and logistics. Despite the distance, we all still feel confident and ready to play today.
“Everyone ready?” Darren says from behind his keyboard after all the members of the IM team are seated and ready for us to begin.
Ethan looks at each of the band members and finally me last.
I shake my head and he says, “Let’s do it.”
