by Jen Gilroy
“I need to make sure you understand what you did was serious and how much you scared me.” Annie still woke up at night imagining what might have happened. “We also can’t keep on not talking to each other like this.” She was the adult, so she had to take the lead in trying to fix what had gone wrong between them.
“Don’t you have a rehearsal with Seth or something?” Hannah stared at her bare feet. Beneath the hem of her ripped jeans, her toenails sported bright red polish.
“Not today.” And there it was. The elephant in the room, or maybe the whole house. Big, gray, lumbering, and almost as destructive as a real elephant would have been to their little world. “Do you have a problem with me rehearsing with Seth?”
“Why would I?” Hannah’s words were too quick and her tone too sharp.
“I don’t know.” Annie wanted to run back down the stairs and maybe out of the house, but she had to face this, whatever it was. “Why don’t you try telling me?”
Hannah stared at her for several endless seconds. “Music was always my thing, not yours, but now . . . it’s not Seth. Not exactly, anyway.” Hannah’s voice got low. “I like him and all, but . . .” She fiddled with an edge of her T-shirt.
“But what?” Even if Annie might not want to hear the answer, she had to ask the question. She sat on the edge of Hannah’s bed and patted the comforter beside her.
“I never thought music was so important to you, but with ‘My Hometown Heart,’ and singing at the fundraiser . . . it . . . everything.” Hannah sat on the opposite side of the bed, as far from Annie as possible.
“Music was always important to me, but I forgot how much.” Annie’s throat closed, and the backs of her eyes burned.
“Because of my dad?” Hannah’s shoulders were hunched.
Annie gave a jerky nod.
“I know you said he didn’t want me, but what really happened?” Her daughter’s voice hitched.
“No, he didn’t.” Annie pressed her lips together. “He . . . didn’t want you to even be born, so I ran away. A few years later, I tried to find out what happened to him, but I couldn’t.” And she’d lived most of the past seventeen years with a fear that lurked in the background of her life. “I gave up my music because I somehow thought it would help keep me safe, keep you safe, too.”
“But why? I don’t understand.” Hannah’s expression was both hurt and puzzled.
“I know it doesn’t make sense, does it? But I was young, mixed up, and scared. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and then that mixed-up thinking became a habit.” Her chest burned.
“Did you love my dad?” Hannah’s voice was halting.
“I thought I did, at least at first. When I met him, he was fun to be with. We both liked music, and we wrote songs together. I thought he could help me. But when I got pregnant with you, he changed.” Sweat pooled between her breasts. “It was like he wanted to control my life, and I couldn’t. . . he got so angry. I was afraid of him.”
Hannah slid across the bed toward her. “I’m sorry.” Her voice thickened with tears.
Annie looped her hand with her daughter’s. “He also started drinking more, so when you got in that car with Zach, it brought stuff back for me. I can’t lose you, and I thought . . .” She took her daughter’s hand and squeezed.
“I . . . you won’t lose me.” Hannah squeezed back. “I’ll never do anything like that again.”
Some of the pressure in Annie’s chest eased. “Because I met your dad, I didn’t do a lot of things in my life maybe I could have. I wanted you, don’t think I didn’t, but that’s why I want you to go to college and do all the stuff I never had a chance to.”
“I’m not you.” Hannah’s voice was earnest. “And I’m not him, either.”
“No, you’re your own person, and I’m glad of it.” Annie tried to smile. “And maybe I was wrong. Why would a guy like him ever have tracked me down? He was from Florida, he never mentioned any family, and I don’t think he’d ever been farther north than Kentucky. But, being with your dad changed me and since then I’ve never wanted to stand out.”
“But now you do?” Hannah’s tone was careful. “With the singing and songwriting?”
“I don’t know.” Annie owed it to her daughter to be honest. “It’s confusing.” The understatement of the month, if not the year. “Probably nothing will come of this recording session.”
“But if it does?” Hannah’s expression was more adult than child.
“Like Nana Gerry used to say, I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.” Her heart skittered. “But whatever happens, I want you to be part of it. Do you believe me?”
“I guess.” Hannah still searched her face. “The thing with Zach snowballed. It was exciting. I mean, why would a guy like him pay attention to Natalie and me? He hangs around with cheerleaders. And you were so excited about the song and working with Seth, I kind of felt . . . I don’t know . . . left out maybe?”
“Oh, honey.” Annie’s heart compressed. “I never knew. I thought you were excited about the song and singing at the fundraiser too.”
“I was, but then when it took off, maybe I also got a bit jealous. And when Seth turned up at the police station with you, he was great and all, but it was still kind of weird.” She fiddled with a strand of hair.
“I understand.” It had been kind of weird for Annie, too. For the first time in her life, someone apart from her family and Jake had looked out for her. Seth hadn’t taken over, but he’d been the kind of support she hadn’t known she’d needed.
“Do you think you could, I don’t know, like maybe try again to find my dad?” Hannah’s voice was hesitant. “I don’t want to meet him or anything, but so we know what happened to him? If he’s still out there somewhere? I don’t want to go through my life thinking I might run into him.”
“Of course I can.” Annie had avoided the whole Todd issue for so many years it had become a habit—one she had to break.
“If you give me more information, I could look on the Internet. You can find out stuff about almost anyone there.” Hannah looked at their joined hands then looped her free arm around Annie’s rigid shoulders.
“We can look together.” No matter what they found, she could face it with Hannah by her side. “About Seth and the recording session, will you still sing with me? It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Try to keep me away.” Her daughter’s voice lightened. “Who else are you going to find to sing backup vocals?”
“I don’t want anybody but you.” Annie’s heart pinched. When it came to backup vocals, she didn’t, but when it came to her life, things weren’t so simple.
“About Zach, I made a big mistake. I should have known better.”
“You learned your lesson, so we won’t say anything more about it.” And in time, maybe Annie’s fear would fade like Hannah’s bruises.
“Natalie’s folks are so pissed they’re sending her to visit family in South Dakota for three whole weeks as soon as school lets out.” Hannah made a face. “As if a broken wrist isn’t bad enough, she’s going to be staring at wheat fields for days. Her mom says it will give her time to think about what she did. I’m glad we don’t have any relatives for you to ship me off to.”
No. All Annie’s relatives were clustered in this little area, and that created a whole other set of problems, including parenting advice on her doorstop. Almost every female member of her family within a twenty-mile radius had popped into the bakery this week to talk about Hannah. They’d asked about Seth too, darting furtive glances at the ceiling, as if he could somehow hear them through the floor. South Dakota wheat fields were surprisingly appealing right now.
Hannah scooted closer to Annie. “I still don’t know what I want to do about college, but maybe . . .” She let out a long breath. “I’ll talk to the guidanc
e counsellor before school ends. I can see why it might be a good idea to keep some options open.”
“That’s great.” Annie’s eyes watered.
“I love you, Mom.” Hannah’s voice cracked.
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“About my dad . . .” Hannah nestled against Annie like she’d done as a small child. “Nothing he did can ever hurt you again. It can’t hurt me, either.”
Annie shivered. Despite her daughter’s confident words, if only she could be so sure.
Chapter 17
All Annie had to do was sing. It was about the music, not her. Not about her and Seth, either. It had been a lot of years, but apart from some drool-worthy equipment, recording studios hadn’t changed much, at least not in the ways that mattered. They all held a little bit of magic and echoes of the hopes and dreams of the musicians who’d passed through them over the years.
From the main road, the place looked like an ordinary upstate New York clapboard farmhouse nestled into a stand of trees on several acres of land. But behind the house another building, custom designed and soundproofed, held a comfortable studio with state-of-the art equipment and acoustics.
“Are you okay?” She glanced at Hannah, who sat in a purple beanbag chair in the middle of the reception area. Although her daughter’s cuts and bruises had healed, that was only on the outside. Despite their talk, Hannah still had some bruises on the inside and maybe always would.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Hannah picked at a hangnail on her thumb.
Annie set Jake’s guitar case on a low table and took out the Gibson. “I thought you were more excited about doing the recording, that’s all. If there’s anything . . . I mean . . .”
“It’s not that. You’ve included me every step of the way, and I am excited but . . .” She stared at the turquoise boots Annie, Tara, and Rowan had all chipped in to buy for her sixteenth birthday. “What if I mess this up for you?”
“Why would you? And even if you, me, or anyone else makes a mistake, we can try again. It’s not like this is a live performance. Besides, you did great at the fundraiser.”
“It’s not the same.” Hannah got to her feet and looked out one of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the stunning view of the southern Adirondacks. “I know everybody in Irish Falls, but it’s different here. How could someone like me belong in a place like this? You can almost smell the money, you know? And those guys in there? They’re so professional.”
“Oh, honey, of course you belong here.” Except, if she was right, her daughter felt like Annie had all those years ago in Nashville—a small-town girl way out of her depth and comfort zone. “I know it’s scary, but we’re doing this together. You’ll be fine. As for the backup musicians, it’s their job. They’re here to help us.” Although Annie had been in a recording studio before, she was as nervous as Hannah, maybe more.
The outside door swung open, and an older guy with shaggy gray-blond hair Seth had introduced earlier as his friend, Pete Johannsen, came into the reception area, then Seth with a picnic cooler, and Tara.
“Surprise.” Tara grinned. “I’m here for moral support and snack delivery.” She gestured to the cooler Seth set on a desk. “How’s my favorite young woman?” She slung an arm around Hannah, and the teen gave her an awkward hug in return.
“I can’t believe it.” Annie’s heart squeezed. “You drove all the way over here, but you never said a word.”
“I swore Seth to secrecy.” Tara’s smile broadened, and she took drinks and food containers out of the cooler. “I didn’t drive here by myself. I came with Rowan and her kids. They’ll pick me up later after they go on some scenic train ride.” She handed Annie a bottle of water. “This is a big deal for you and Hannah. Of course I’d be here. Rowan wanted to come, but you know how active her two are. She was worried they might break something.”
Annie curled her fingers around the ice-cold water. Her family might be nosy and interfering, but they always had her back. “Rowan . . . she and the kids need time together, too.” Because, although joint custody was fair, it was also hard.
“Yeah, they do.” Tara’s tone was strained. “So, tell me everything.” She glanced around. “I’ve never been in a recording studio before.”
“What do you want to know?” Pete grinned at Tara. He had the same mellow Southern accent as Seth, and, although he must be in his late fifties, hair flopped over his forehead to give him a sexy Nordic rock star look.
“Has anybody famous recorded a song here?” Her sister gave him a shy smile.
Pete’s blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Sure, but most of them like to keep a low profile.”
“Wow.” Hannah sidled up beside Annie and let out a soft breath.
“Lots of big names have been through the same studio where you and your mom are going to be singing.” Pete’s smile widened.
“That is so awesome.” Hannah’s voice came out in an excited squeak.
“Why don’t you help the backup guys finish getting set up in there and give your aunt a tour?” Pete inclined his head toward Tara. “We’ll join you in a minute. My wife’s sorry she’s not here to meet you all. She’s babysitting our grandkids today. Being closer to our daughter and her family is one of the reasons we moved here.”
“Family first.” Tara’s voice caught and then her heels tapped on the polished floor as she followed Hannah in the direction of the studio.
Annie turned to Seth. “We’re booked for a few hours, right?”
He nodded. “Longer if we need it.”
“Seth and I worked together a lot over the years. He knows music, so if he says you’re good, you must be.” Pete studied Annie, and her face heated under his scrutiny. “We go way back. See?” He gestured to a picture in the middle of a wall of framed photos behind the reception desk.
Annie moved closer to look. A much younger Seth stared out at her from the faded color snapshot. He wore jeans, a graphic T-shirt, and a backward baseball cap over his dark hair and had a guitar slung low. A girl with long brown hair, in a black T-shirt and short denim shorts, stood in front of a microphone backed by two other guys, one behind a drum kit, the other holding a bass guitar. Pete, younger and blonder, stood off to the side with a clipboard.
She glanced at Seth. “You must have still been a teenager.”
“I’d just turned eighteen. That picture was taken soon after I got to LA,” Seth said. “Back then, I was in a band and Pete helped us record a demo. We were bad country meets bad rock and roll and, except for Amanda, we had bad hair, and bad clothes, but Pete took us in hand and helped us figure out who we were and got us some gigs.”
“Amanda?” Annie glanced between the two men and then back at the girl in the picture.
“My ex-wife. Dylan’s mom.” Seth’s voice was expressionless.
“Oh.” Annie studied the picture again. The girl was a knock-out, but there was a hardness to her, like she knew how pretty she was and didn’t hesitate to use it.
“She had a decent voice, and she was savvy when it came to production and promotion.” Pete’s tone was dry. “Ruthless too. You didn’t get in her way when she wanted something.” He glanced at Seth with a fatherly expression. “But without real talent and a bad attitude . . .” He stopped and shrugged.
Seth rubbed a hand against his chest. “We were kids with a dream.” He stared at the photo, his gaze unfocused. “Although that dream didn’t take me where I thought it would, it still helped me get started in the music business.”
Hannah’s boots clattered, and Annie looked up. “Mom, it’s amazing. The musicians are really nice, and you won’t believe it when I tell you who they’ve played with.” Her daughter’s eyes sparkled.
“You ready, Annie?” Seth’s blue-gray gaze met hers.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Sh
e pushed her shoulders back, even as her heart raced and her mouth went dry.
She’d been wrong. Today wasn’t only about the music. It was about her and Seth, too. By bringing her here, he’d given her a glimpse of his past and how he’d come to be the man she knew. The man she was falling into something special with, day by day, and song by song.
~ ~ ~
After the last echo of Annie’s voice faded, Seth turned to Pete, who sat beside him in the cramped control room. “What do you think?”
“You sure can pick them. Ever thought about a new career in talent scouting?” His friend chuckled, but his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. “She’s got the voice, but you said she wrote that song, too? ‘My Hometown Heart?’”
“Annie wrote all the songs she sang today.” Although she and Hannah were only recording “My Hometown Heart,” Seth had asked them to sing a few others as well to warm up and so the backup musicians could get a sense of their voices.
“You’ve struck gold, buddy.” Pete leaned back. “Those songs of hers are magic.”
Seth looked through the glass at Annie and Hannah. Annie sat on a low stool and cradled Jake’s guitar. When she looked up to speak to the keyboard player, a tall guy with cropped brown hair and glasses, her expression was animated.
“Do you think Rick would be interested in hearing her? Remember when we worked together on that jazz project, he said he was always looking for new talent for the label?” Unlike some people in the music business, Rick was solid and loyal, not someone who only hung around because they thought Seth could help them in their career and disappeared when his life crashed and burned.
Pete chuckled. “Does the guy like making money? Sure, he’d want to hear her.” Pete swiveled in his chair until his back was to Annie, Hannah, and the band. “Annie can sing, sure, but it’s her songwriting I bet he’d be more interested in. Have you asked her to work with you?”
