The Songs We Remember: A Young Adult Romance (The Songs in Our Hearts Book 2)

by Chantal Gadoury

  I opened the door, surprised to see my mom and her friend on the front porch. I recognized her friend as Mrs. Miller, a woman from the widows’ group at church. Her husband had passed away from lung cancer.

  “Mom?” I was confused. “Mrs. Miller?”

  “Hey, Charlie, I left my key,” she explained. “I forgot something and remembered that you were going to be home. So Sue and I stopped by really quick.”

  “Oh? What did you forget?” I asked as I backed up, allowing them space to enter the house. I noticed Mrs. Miller was carrying a large, black garment bag.

  “Are you going someplace fancy?”

  My mom and Mrs. Miller came into the house and walked into the kitchen without answering.

  “Actually, Charlie,” my mom began with a smile. “I was telling Sue about prom and how you weren’t going. I thought—rather, hoped—that you would reconsider. Sue thought she would show you her daughter’s dress. Becka doesn’t want it anymore. She has been out of the house for a few years.”

  “Seems too convenient,” I mused and gazed between Mrs. Miller and my mom.

  “At least look at the dress, and decide if you’d go then.”

  “I just don’t want to feel even more like a misfit than I already do.” I awkwardly rubbed my arm. “Honestly, it’s not that I don’t want to go,” I began to confess. “I just don’t want to feel guilty about laughing. I don’t feel right trying to be normal again when he’s not here.”

  I knew the words struck a chord with my mom. I saw her eyes water as she nodded.

  “I understand, Charlie. I really do.”

  “I want to go. I want to be with my friends. I want to be with Micah…” I sighed. “I just don’t know what that means right now. I don’t know how to be my old self and my new self. I don’t know how to be happy when I feel so heartbroken.” I felt my mom’s hands on my shoulders as she brought me into a hug.

  “You just live, Charlie,” she urged me. “You live, the way your dad would have wanted you. You wake up every day and allow yourself to cry. And then you get up, when you’re ready. And you just keep moving forward.”

  “I don’t want to move forward.” A few tears rolled down my cheeks. “I don’t want to leave Dad behind.”

  “Moving on isn’t leaving Dad behind. Moving forward is carrying him with you. He hasn’t left you, Charlie. He never will.” My mom took a step back and smiled at me through her tears. “He’d want you to go tonight, Charlie. You deserve to go. You don’t need to punish yourself.”

  I slowly nodded and wiped my eye with the back of my hand.

  “Now, let’s see this dress, hmm?” Mrs. Miller said with a warm smile. She unzipped the garment bag, revealing a low V-neckline dress. White pieces of lace, which looked like flowers and ivy, adorned the bodice and cascaded down the tulle and chiffon skirt. There was a hint of a soft champagne color under the transparent tulle. As my fingers grazed the waistline, I noticed it was encrusted with intricate, sparkling beads. My eyes scanned to Mrs. Miller, and I quickly shook my head.

  “I can’t wear this. This is too...” This had to have cost hundreds of dollars. “This is too much.”

  “Nonsense.” She started to pull the dress from the garment bag. “It’s been sitting in Becka’s closet, waiting for another evening like this to come out. You’ll look dazzling in this.”

  Dazzling wasn’t a word I would have ever used to describe myself, but in this dress, I was sure to resemble a princess.

  “I…I don’t know what to say,” I murmured and looked over to my mom. A tear escaped her eye.

  “Just say you’ll go.” Mrs. Miller pulled the dress from the hanger with a smile. I carefully took it, feeling how soft, how beautiful, how perfect it felt underneath my fingertips.

  “This must be how Cinderella felt,” I said with a small laugh as a tear slid down my cheek.

  “Well, let’s get you dressed, then, Cinderella,” my mom said with a grin and guided me down the hallway toward the bathroom. “If you only have until midnight, we need to get you to your prince before it’s too late.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked her as she shut the bathroom door, closing us in together so that she could help me into the dress. My mom leaned over to reach for a tissue from the box.

  “I’m very sure, Charlie,” she said softly as she brushed my tears away with the tissue. “Now, we both have to stop crying. Your dad would tell us to ‘walk it off.’” He would be. “We need to get the dress on, get some makeup to brighten your eyes, and then do something with your hair.”

  I nodded and smiled up at her, my first real smile in a long time.

  “Thanks, Mom. Thank you for everything.”

  “I Will Always Love You”

  Whitney Houston

  MICAH: it’s kinda boring here

  MICAH: I wish u were here

  JENNIFER: GURL!!!

  JENNIFER: YOU ARE MISSING THE TIME OF YOUR LIFE!

  JENNIFER: I WISH YOU WERE HERE!!!!!!!

  I ignored the few text messages I had received from Jennifer and Micah. Little did they know.

  My mom and Mrs. Miller drove quickly through town to get to the venue for the Grand Lakes High School Prom. The committee had chosen a freemason building, the United Rite, which was on the eastern side of the town. As my mom pulled the car up to the main entrance, she looked over me again.

  “You look beautiful, Charlie. So grown up.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” I turned to look over my shoulder at Mrs. Miller, who sat in the back seat with a large smile on her face. She had helped so much back at home, with my hair and makeup.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Miller. I don’t even know how to begin to…”

  She shook her head as she lifted her hand to stop me. “Just have fun. Have the time of your life. That’s how you can thank me.”

  I grinned and nodded. A sigh slipped from my lips as I turned my attention to the building. “Well, wish me luck!”

  “You don’t need it,” my mom said with a laugh. I opened the car door and stepped out, holding up the hem of the gown. I looked back once to wave at my mom and Mrs. Miller. They waved back and drove away, leaving me to enter the building alone.

  I recognized Sia’s “The Greatest” pouring from the doors and windows of the Rite building as I stepped inside. The lights were bright and flashing, just like they had been at the first dance Micah and I had attended. My hands began to sweat as I looked around. I had no idea how I was going to find anyone here. There was a mixture of juniors and seniors dancing in the middle of the floor accompanied by a selection of unfamiliar faces which I assumed must’ve been their dates. I was just about to tug my phone from the clutch my mom had given me, when I heard my name over the loud music.

  “CHARLIE! CHARLIE, YOU CAME!” Jennifer. I was pretty sure I heard her squeal as she ran in my direction and hugged me.

  “Oh, my God! Look at you! Look at your dress! Oh, my God, you’re gorgeous! Where did you get that dress?” I did my best not to laugh at her gushing enthusiasm. I was thrilled, excited even, that she was so happy to see me.

  “Where’s Micah?” I shouted over the music.

  “I just saw him!” She grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the room. I lifted my skirt a bit, doing my best to keep from tripping over the fabric. I was so nervous to see Micah. We wandered, maneuvering around dancing bodies. I saw Josh dancing with Jackie O, along with J and Ben. David and Rachel were drinking punch and laughing.

  “Wait! I think I see him!” I said, stopping where we stood. I squinted, trying to see if the dancing form belonged to Micah.

  “No way, that’s not Micah,” Jennifer said and continued to pull me along. My eardrums were grateful as the Sia song began to fade and stopped.

  Then, I instantly recognized the next song as an upbeat remixed version of “La Vie En Rose.” No DJ at a prom would ever pl
ay that song without a request; it was too peculiar. I let go of Jennifer’s hand and spun around, searching for the DJ’s station. Micah had to be there.

  I walked through the crowd, searching for his face. A hand grabbed my elbow, and I quickly turned.

  Micah’s face was smiling at me. I took in the sight of him dressed in a formal suit; his vest matched the light champagne color of my dress.

  And that’s when I realized, he and my mother had this entire scheme planned.

  His hair was slicked back, and his dark, brown eyes were striking. He looked like he’d walked straight out of a James Bond movie.

  “You still up for that fantasy dance of yours?” he asked with an extended hand.

  That dance. I was struck with the memory of being in his car after filming a scene for our “monster” movie, and telling Micah about my love for the song.

  “Well, I’ve always loved Louis Armstrong’s version of ‘La Vie En Rose.’ I imagine a slow dance, in the middle of twinkling lights. Maybe in a small French side street, or…I’ve just...always imagined it to be this perfect, romantic song.”

  In disbelief, I took his hand and followed him to the dance floor, where a group of couples were dancing.

  “You look…” Micah hesitated as his gaze slid up and down the dress, and me. “You look beautiful, Charlie.” I felt my cheeks begin to burn as I smiled more brightly.

  “Thanks. My mom and her friend came home with the dress…but I’m guessing you know that already.” I gave him a sly grin. “You look amazingly handsome.”

  “More than usual?” he teased. I rolled my eyes playfully. “I’m glad they convinced you to come,” Micah said with a flashing grin. “I was getting bored without you. This sort of thing isn’t fun when you’re dateless.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” I murmured as he pulled me tightly into his arms. I felt him grin against my cheek. A soft puff of air flittered over my bare neck.

  “You’re here now. That’s all that matters,” he replied against my ear. “La Vie En Rose” seamlessly changed into a remix of Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin.’” As Micah pulled away from the slow dance, I shook my head with a smile. Was this really happening?

  “Are they playing our songs?”

  “They are.” He chuckled. “I wanted this night to be perfect for you. Your friend Daan is helping with the music, and he pulled some strings for me.” He winked at me and brushed his fingertips over his chest as if he were playing it cool. “I had to make sure we didn’t end up with some stupid Taylor Swift song again like the last time.”

  I laughed at the memory as he twirled me in a circle. As I came back around to face him, with the loud music surrounding us, Micah pulled me into his arms and kissed me.

  “I love you, Caroline Blake. I hope you never forget it.”

  I knew that, with all the songs, all the shared car rides, and all the priceless moments Micah Jacobs had given me, I never would forget, no matter where our journey took us. And I knew above all else, my dad would always be with me, watching over us.

  I can’t believe I’m here, doing this once again! Though, this time with the sequel to The Songs in Our Hearts.

  The Songs We Remember really started out as a NaNoWriMo project for myself in 2016, while I was attending grief share at my local church. The host of the group encouraged me to write about my grief, to write about what happened and my experience in losing my dad. I had just recently finished writing The Songs in Our Hearts, so Charlie and Micah were still fresh in my mind. It felt natural to pick up where I had left off—continuing their story, but also weaving in my own, my very personal one with theirs.

  While I was nervous to write this, and even more nervous still to publish this—I hope that somewhere, it finds itself into the hands of someone who might be going through a loss of their own. I hope Charlie and I’s story can be a voice to those who grieve, and perhaps don’t know how to express themselves. Dealing with loss of a loved one and grief can be hard (and isolating), and it never truly goes away. In all of that, the message here is clear—know that you’re not alone.

  Many of the things in this book are completely based on my life, my family’s experiences and my Dad. And in all the warm and happy memories that I do have—I’m incredibly thankful for them.

  To my Mom, who was the first person to read this story; you were the first person I wanted to share this with. Since Dad’s passing, you’ve been my rock, my best friend—the one person I know that I can always depend on. And while I know we’re both riddled with moments of weakness, know that I think you’re brilliant, strong, beautiful and loving. I’m glad, in all of this, I have you. Thank you for being my Mom.

  To my Sister, Carrine, who takes the most beautiful ‘model’ photos of my books whenever I call—Thank you for your support. It really means a lot to me when I hear you say that you’re proud of me. I’m grateful for all the hugs and the love that you give. You mean so much to me. I hope you always know that. (To Taran, for all the fluffiness, the puppy kisses and the snuggles that we all, often needed from you. You are the most loved dog, Tub Tub.)

  I’m so thankful to Juanita and CK Brooke at 48fourteen for believing in The Songs in Our Hearts, and giving The Songs We Remember a home. Thank you for helping to shape this story into what it is now. You both were a great team to work with once again, and I look forward to more books with you in the future!

  Of course, I wouldn’t have this story without all of the people behind the story; many of which were my friends in high school. David—this is where I can say “Daan has abs” and you can now officially call yourself famous. Tiffany, who will always be the cool girl with Inuyasha and Gundam Wing fanfiction (and my cheerleader when it came to writing!) Andrea F for bringing me closer to God, when I had no idea how much I’d need him in my future. And Joel Worley—who took me on late night car drives, and gave me memories through songs on his radio. Who always saved me a seat on the #77 school bus, and seemingly (and perhaps unknowingly) held my heart for many, many years. I hope you and your growing family happiness and love—always.

  To the Gadoury family—the many of you spaced out across the USA and Canada. There’s not a single day that goes by where I don’t think of you all, or my dad. There’s not a moment when I’m near all of you, that I don’t recognize an expression, or hear his laughter or voice when you speak. I thrive on knowing when I’m near you guys, I get to experience him again. It’s bittersweet, but I’m thankful. I hope this story only makes you proud.

  To Shayne Leighton, my best friend—my-go to for everything. Not only have you been a pleasure to work with at the Parliament House, you are the person that keeps me together day in, day out. Honestly Shayne, I know I often say to you that you saved me. And I want to reiterate that here: you did. After the loss of my dad, and the loss of everything else that followed, you insistently walked right into my life and began to paint the sky above my head full of bright, beautiful colors. You reminded me to live again. To imagine, to dream, to wish, to hope. You reminded me of all the things that had once been important to me. You gave me purpose. This entire experience has been a wonderful dream come true. I love you, truly. And if we grow old together as two old lady-best-friends, I’ll be one lucky person.

  Last, but not least—to my Dad. As I was driving in my car the other day, I thought about how I’d be writing this acknowledgment very soon. And I began to wonder what it is that I’d say to you. I can’t believe at this time, in this moment, it’s been three years since your sudden passing. Three years of walking around, feeling as though I’m weighed down by the boulders of grief. Three years since I last talked to you on the phone—asking for a recipe. A lot has happened in that very short, but very extended amount of time. There have been a lot of messages, tears, regrets, and sleepless nights. But there have also been some amazing moments—all of which I wished you were a part of. And this is o
ne of those moments. I wish you were here, so that I could hand this book to you and say, “Look Dad. I did it!”

  And as I was driving, I remembered the line Charlie says in The Songs In Our Hearts. Songs are like memories.

  And this, Dad... This is my song to you. This is my gift to you. You gave me so much in your life. You gave me so much love, so much happiness, and taught me so many lessons. I can only hope that in my life, in all that I do, I can make you proud of me. So this, The Songs We Remember, is yours.

  The best way I can end this is with a song—naturally.

  There’s a Billy Joel song that comes to mind for the perfect ending. The lyrics go like this:

  “…and if you sing this lullaby,

  then in your heart there will always be a part of me.

  Someday we’ll all be gone,

  but lullabies go on and on…

  They never die,

  that’s how you and I will be.”

  Amazon Best Selling Author, Chantal Gadoury, is a 2011 graduate from Susquehanna University with a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing. Since graduation, she has published The Songs in Our Hearts, and The Songs We Remember, with 48fourteen Publishing, and Allerleirauh, and Between the Sea and Stars, with Parliament House Press, with future titles to follow. Chantal first started writing stories at the age of seven and continues with that love of writing today. For Chantal, writing novels has become a life-long dream come true! When she’s not typing away at her next project, she enjoys painting, drinking lots of DD Iced Coffee, and watching Disney classics. Chantal lives in Muncy, Pennsylvania with her Mom, Sister and furry-‘brother’ (aka, puppy) Taran.