Hearts Key

by Marianne Evans

  “No. Not right now. But you will. It took me a while, too.” When tense silence lengthened, she began to worry. “Tyler, talk to me. Please? What are you thinking?”

  “That Mark Samuels doesn’t deserve one precious second of the time God gave him with you, and that wonderful little girl.”

  Typical Tyler Brock. He was never, ever afraid to speak his heart. That was the beauty of him. Just like the words and melodies of his music, he laid it all out there and withheld nothing. Oh, how she admired that bravery of spirit.

  Once, she had been the same way, but she had never been smart when it came to matters of the heart. Instead, she had opted to keep Tyler playfully enamored, a friend but nothing more while she chased after the bigger, better deal. Well, woe unto her. “I paid the price for being star-struck by the popular guy, the guy everyone admired. In theory, he was Mr. Right. In practice he turned into Mr. Devastation.” She pursed her lips, and looked at her daughter. “And you’ve seen how hard it is on Pyper when it comes to adult men. It leaves me sick at myself sometimes.”

  Tyler leaned in and captured her chin gently in his hand. He looked intently into her eyes. “Don’t ever, ever take responsibility for a man abusing you and your daughter, Amy. You’ve pulled sunshine out of the rain. Do you understand that?”

  The words were kindly spoken, tender in a way, but she heard the reinforcing steel that went along with them. The force of his conviction unsealed a chamber of her heart where fear and loneliness had been caged for far too long. Set free at last, their power diminished as they performed a fast and final dance through her soul.

  Through it all, though, Amy wondered where she could, where she should she go now.

  Hearts Key

  7

  The party moved to Ken and Kiara’s lovingly maintained ranch-style house, and continued into the early evening, when everyone gathered around the dining table and shared memories, laughter, and a wonderful, grilled surf-and-turf meal of steak and shrimp kabobs. After dinner, Tyler wandered through the house during meal clean up and found himself in the family room. He trailed his fingers against the entertainment unit. Currently the stereo played quietly. Music was as much a fixture within the Lucerne’s home as it had been on the boat that afternoon.

  A song change on the radio left him rearing back, and blinking hard. “Hey, Ken?” he called toward the kitchen, “is that WMUZ you’re listening to?”

  “Nope. Should be WNIC. They play some great jazzy after-hours music.”

  Puzzled, Tyler moved slowly to the kitchen, feeling dazed. “You sure?”

  Ken entered from the kitchen, nodding but looking confused by Tyler’s questions. “I think so. Feel free to check it. Why?”

  WMUZ was Detroit’s Christian music station. WNIC played mostly adult contemporary selections, a few oldies, and a variety of soft rock. Tyler opened the cabinet door and checked the radio dial. Sure enough, it was WNIC. “’Cause they’re playin’my song. Right now. They’re playin’ Amazing Grace. C’mere and listen!”

  Ken’s eyes went wide as he tuned in and made the connection. Meanwhile, Tyler watched Kiara spin away from the sink, where she stood with Amy, cleaning dishes. Ken’s wife did a quick boogie dance and joined Amy in an excited shout. His parents, he noticed, rose from the kitchenette. As one, everyone charged for the family room..

  Like the fans they were, his family and friends started cheering, and they all danced like adorable fools. That’s when a word, and a feeling, crested over Tyler with the impact of a tidal wave. Crossover.

  In more ways than one, is that what was going on here? Would a crossover circle around not just his music, but his life as well? Was he poised at the precipice of soul-deep compromise? Desperation clutched at Tyler’s chest. He did not want to compromise.

  But the plan, and the momentum, just might be out of his control—happening to him whether he wanted it to or not, whether he was prepared for it or not. His stomach clenched and shivers worked through him from head to toe.

  “Is this from when you concerted at church, Mr. Tyler?” Pyper asked the question as she sashayed with Annie and the song continued.

  “No, sugar beet, this is a recording I did in a studio.”

  “It’s cool!” Annie exclaimed.

  “It’s the best!” Kiara rushed forward to give him a tight hug. “Tyler, ’NIC! Can you imagine? This is fantastic!”

  “It’s just as great when it plays on ’MUZ,” he answered. Still, his hands trembled. Still, his heart reacted with a thundering, excited beat.

  At the end of the song, the DJ came on. “That was Amazing Grace, performed by Detroit’s own Tyler Brock who’s home this weekend for a benefit concert at Woodland Church in Saint Clair Shores. We can see now why this young man is taking Christian music by storm. Congratulations, Tyler, and welcome home.”

  The DJ’s send-off inspired a second round of enthusiastic chatter in the Lucerne home. Once his fan club retreated to the kitchen, he caught Amy’s eye and tilted his head toward the doorway of the family room that led outside. He looked at her expectantly, and she nodded, picking up on the cue. The girls had run off to play in Annie’s room; the Lucernes and his parents chatted companionably in the kitchen.

  Amy mouthed, “Let’s go.”

  Sliding glass doors led to the back yard and a spacious patio. Thanks to Kiara’s talents, the back yard of the Lucerne’s home was a haven of tranquility, a showpiece of her landscaping skills and a sharp eye for all things beautiful. A series of ground lights illuminated a cobbled pathway that curved along the perimeter of the yard. Just now, the lengthening shadows of early evening painted their surroundings.

  The peace and quiet enveloped his troubled mind. It helped that Amy reached for his hand and held it while they began to walk. He wondered if she realized the gesture had come to her automatically.

  “If hearing Amazing Grace that way doesn’t give you an adrenaline rush, I don’t know what will.”

  “Aw, it’s not as big a thing as you might think.” Tyler bent and plucked a pair of pale pink hyacinth from the bevy of colorful blooms that ran alongside the bricks. “I’m in Detroit. That’s all. Someone at ’NIC found out about Woodland and decided to play the song is all. Not a huge deal.”

  A soft, cooling breeze skirted past. The early night air sang with cricket noise. He handed the flowers to Amy and she smiled, lifting them to her nose. Her hair, now loose from the ponytail she had worn all day, fluttered across her face as she breathed deep. Tyler watched her in fascination. He didn’t need to be close to smell the sweet, rich aroma. A blanket of hyacinth framed in slightly taller snapdragons then well-shaped evergreen shrubs. Lilac trees dotted the fence line, and periodically the combination of scents carried through the yard, intoxicating and bursting with spring’s renewal.

  Despite the blows of life, Amy remained stunningly beautiful. Sure, she had gone for comfort and ease for their day on the water—wearing a simple shorts and t-shirt combo. The lavender colored one-piece swimsuit she had worn was discreet and basic as well, but none of that mattered. Even in flip flops and ultra-casual attire, she left him breathless.

  Being near her, all he could think of was new life. New opportunity. The parallels caused Tyler to re-center as they continued their stroll. Between the airplay on WNIC, and Kellen Rossiter’s heated pursuit, he was a lot more nervous about the way things were going than he wanted to let on. He needed to pull back a bit; he needed to think things through. Most of all, he needed to pray.

  Amy interrupted his introspection. “Mainstream airplay is a huge deal, Tyler, and you deserve it.” He was grateful for her loyalty, and pride, but she didn’t understand the constant battle he fought to remain true to his principles when the call of celebrity, with all of its advantages, and all of its pitfalls, grew by the day. She twirled the flower stems gently. “You should tell Rebecca. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to hear the news.”

  That comment thoroughly diverted him from his anxieties. Tyler used his ho
ld on her hand to turn her toward him. “Is there something you’d like to ask me about her, Amy?” When she didn’t answer, when instead she watched him with wide, searching eyes, he reached up to brush his knuckles against her cheek. Sure enough, they were warm as toast. That made him smile, and gave him the courage to push a little. “C’mon. Ask me.”

  She shrugged in a negligent way, but her eyes betrayed her. Big time. That’s probably why she looked away. “I think she’s amazing. And she’s very gifted. You two seem to get along really well.”

  Affection for Rebecca rose to the surface of Tyler’s feelings, but that affection paled in comparison to what he held in his heart for Amy. Nothing had ever come close, and he somehow knew nothing else ever would. “Yes. We sure do. Now, Amy…ask me.”

  She sighed, her brows furrowed. “Whatever the answer is, it wouldn’t make a difference.” He swore he heard tinges of regret woven through those whispered words. “I mean, you and I, we…we’re friends, we’re great friends, but…it’s not like I have a hold…or like you owe me anything…”

  The blurred edges of a relationship with this revised, grown-up version of Amy Maxwell gained new resolution. Her display of hesitant interest, an interest she couldn’t seem to fight or deny, made his heart take flight. He slid his thumb lightly against the back of her hand. “You’re stammering. Please, just ask me what you want to know.”

  Her soft sigh cut the stillness of the night that drew in around them like a blanket. “Is she…are you two…involved? Are you together in a romantic way?”

  “No, honey. Not at all. If I were, I wouldn’t have been on a boat with you all day, hanging on every last second we have together.”

  He watched her downplay the smile, stifle the sparkle that lit her eyes, but they were there, and they sang to him as perfectly as a well-crafted melody. Tyler leaned down. Before kissing Amy’s cheek, he let his lips brushed against her jaw line, whisper against her neck. She smelled of an alluring spice, and vanilla.

  “You two were on Opry Bound together.” Her voice faltered, but she was obviously going for some semblance of control here. “You were competitors. That had to be hard.”

  He ignored her unsteady breathing pattern, and they resumed their meandering walk. “Yes, we were, but we were always friends, too. We connected from the start. It honestly broke me up when she got voted off. She was then, and is now, one of the few people who will ever understand how crazy and wonderful and difficult that whole period was. She’s one of my closest friends as the result. But that’s as far as it goes. For either one of us.”

  Something he’d said left Amy grinning like the young girl he remembered from high school, leaving him to puzzle as they nearly completed a circuit of Ken and Kiara’s backyard.

  “I have a confession to make,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah? It’s good for the soul, you know.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  “What’s the confession? I’m intrigued.”

  She shot him a bashful look. “Well. I dialed my fingers off voting for you when you were on Opry Bound.”

  “Really? You did?”

  “Of course. I couldn’t get over it. The sensation you created is something most people can only dream about.”

  Tyler ignored that, and instead focused on the revelation. “Who knows, Amy? You just might have been the difference. You might have been the one who put me over the top.”

  She stopped and turned to look deep into his eyes. “No, Tyler. You did that all by yourself.”

  Her simple, yet powerful degree of conviction left him silent for a time. She still didn’t realize. She had been the difference. All that he pushed himself to achieve had begun on a mission trip to Pennsylvania years ago, with Amy at his side, a childhood friend he loved with wistfulness and an absolute, unabated longing. It was then that he had known for certain how his life would evolve: The power of his mission he would give to God—through music. The key to his heart, he would give only to Amy.

  “You’ve always been there. Always. Don’t ever doubt it.”

  Amy’s lips twitched into a smile, and she sidled him a narrow-eyed glance. “Here’s what else I know about you, beyond that well-deserved victory on Opry Bound. Most of it comes from CMT, but…” The way she parroted his words from their time on the boat made him smile. The crack about CMT made him laugh outright. “You have someone hot on your trail by the name of Kellen Rossiter. What’s his deal? Who’s Kellen Rossiter?”

  This was an unexpected turn in the direction of their conversation. It circled Tyler back to anxieties and the professional circumstances he had to resolve, with the fate of his career in the balance. “Rossiter’s annoying.”

  “And flattering?”

  Tyler huffed out a sound that didn’t agree or disagree, but he forced himself to relax. He gave her a sidelong look. “Yeah. Admitting it makes me feel weak, but, yeah. I’m flattered by his attention. Dave Wells has me fully convicted on that count. Kellen is one of the biggest agents in the music industry. His roster is absolute A-List.”

  Amy paused. “And he’s looking for you.”

  Tyler shrugged. “He got wind of the statistics for the new album and he’s intrigued, that’s all.”

  “Sure, because high-powered agents track every potential client, via any means necessary, when they’re simply intrigued.”

  Tyler attempted to stifle a laugh, but in the end, he couldn’t resist. They continued to walk, nearing the patio. “Sometimes, you’re still a piece of sass, Amy.”

  “Sometimes? C’mon. What’s the story? It seems to have you bugged. Why?”

  “It’s not that I’m bugged; it’s that I’m afraid. He wants to represent me. Word I get from his numerous voicemails, e-mails, Facebook messages, Tweets, you name it…” This time it was Amy who burst out laughing. “…is that he’s got his eye on me as a crossover artist.”

  That stopped her short once more, right at the lip of the patio. “Wow. It makes sense, but still. Wow.”

  Tyler wasn’t as impressed. Not yet, anyway. “At the sacrifice of the work I do for God, yeah. Wow.” He eyed the large, padded chairs that were placed around a glass table, not wanting the moment to conclude. He’d do anything to stretch out the gift of this time with her, but she was probably tired, and… “You ready to go back in?”

  She looked his way for a moment. “Not necessarily.”

  The grin he gave her was returned full-force, and they sat down.

  “How would you be sacrificing the work you’re doing for God by signing on with Kellen Rossiter?”

  Tyler looked at thin, wispy clouds drifting across the light of a half-moon. Darkness increased by the second, adding an intimacy to the atmosphere. “Kellen is driven, and he’s not afraid to push. If I sign on with him, I’ll be pushed. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t want to get in over my head with a person who may not have all my best interests at heart. My life, my music, is a lot more than just making money and gaining audience exposure, know what I mean?”

  Amy nodded. “In fact, I’d expect nothing less coming from you.” She let a pause slip by. “But maybe Dave is right. Maybe you should at least talk to him. There’s no harm in that.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Fast vanishing sunlight painted golden rays against the mauve, blue and pink colors of the sky. “I’ve already come to the conclusion that I’ll regret it if I don’t. It’s just that I don’t want to be led into the land of temptation. I’m meeting with him when I get back to Nashville, once the tour craziness is over with.”

  Amy studied him in silence for a moment. “Well, I know who and what you are. You’d never compromise. Not when it comes to the way you live your life.”

  A breeze rustled the leaves. She slumped comfortably, and closed her eyes as she rested her head against the back of the chair. “This place has the best vibe. I always feel at peace when I’m here. Content. Wish I always felt that way.”

  Tyler leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees whil
e he watched her and absorbed. “Sounds like you’ve spent some time here.” Her eyes remained closed, but her body went taut. Tyler instantly regretted the comment. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  “No problem. It’s tough. On one hand, I don’t know what I’d do without Ken and Kiara. When I left Mark, I had nothing, Tyler. Literally nothing. I had the clothes on my back, and Pyper, which is all that mattered anyhow. Ken and Kiara let me stay here for a few months, until I found work, and was able to get an apartment and start a life of my own again.”

  “And on the other hand?”

  She sighed, still never opening her eyes. She spoke in a low, quiet voice. “On the other hand I wish I hadn’t made such stupid mistakes. I wish I hadn’t needed to rely on them in the first place.”

  “What about your family? Your mom and dad?”

  Amy turned her head, and at last looked at him. There was an ocean of pain in her eyes.

  Tyler’s brows pulled together.

  “It’s taken a while to find our way back.”

  A rift. Between Amy and her parents. Tyler remembered them—loving and devout, caring. Her statement earned his full attention. “They knew Mark was wrong for me. I wish I had listened to them. They were against our marriage from the get go, but when the pregnancy happened, there was no going back. We became alienated. Mark never wanted to be with them, so my visits became less and less frequent. Taking care of Pyper, protecting her, took every ounce of energy, every minute of time I had. They didn’t give up exactly, they simply stepped back, and waited, and hoped. We’re better now.”

  “But it wasn’t the ending they hoped for you.”

  “Nope. Not at all. Emotionally, it was easier to crash here than with my parents. They wanted me, and Pyper, of course, but this was better. In all things, God works His good, right?”