“Yeah?”
With my tongue, I moistenedmy lips, and said, “I also wanted to tell you that I wrote a song last night.”
Tess’s smile, wide andbright, shone like a beacon in the proverbial darkness. “Jon, that’samazing. Seriously. That makes me sohappy for you.”
“Yeah, me too.” I nodded,finding it harder to smile now, remembering the lyrics I had written. All theaches and all the tears. But still, as I bit my lip and continued to nod, Ifound it in me to say, “Thank you.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
JON
“Whoa. Who thehell are you and what did youdo with my brother?”Needless to say, Jeffwas shockedto see me when I walked into the club sporting a fresh face.
I laughed, dropping mybackpack on the bar’s glossy surface. “Thought it was time to trim the hedges.”
“Aw, man, and I thoughtyou were getting ready to join a hippy commune or something,” Jeff teased,glaring at me with a playful smirk. “You probably could’ve benefited from someganja.”
“Oh, yeah, that’sexactlywhat I need,” I muttered arounda chuckle. “I don’t make enough money to support the munchies.”
Jeff’s brow furrowed.“Hey, what are you saying? I don’t pay youenough?Because Jon, I can try to give you a raise. I mean, if Laura didn’t rape me foreverythingI’ve got with the child support—"
With a groan, I slidonto a stool. “Nah, you’re fine. I’ve just been thinking that maybe it’s time Ifound something else. Like, arealjob, youknow?I’ve been doing this for so long,hoping it would come to something, but it just hasn’t. And if I was on my own,that’d be one thing, but man, I have the girls to think about. They need tocome first.” What I didn’t say was, “That’s how it should’ve been all along.Before kids. Before Beth died.”
With a reluctant nod,Jeff replied, “Hey, if that’s what yougottado, Icompletely understand. I mean, it might suck for me, trying to get someentertainment of your caliber in here, but I get it.”
“Thanks.” I smiledgratefully. “I haven’t started applying anywhere yet, but I’ll let you knowwhat happens.”
The work nightcommenced in typical fashion for a weekday night—it was dead. Only a handful ofpeople were seated at any given moment, and I knew that my tips were going tosuck.
But I played with agusto I seldom remembered from years ago. The keys weren’t an instrument, butan extension of my own fingers, and they were playing the melody of my soul.Even the happiest songs were played in the key of unrelenting heartache withjust a dash of apprehensive fear.
I realized now that ithad been too long since I allowed myself to play this way. Since Beth had died,I’d simply always just played from memory and not from my heart, but tonight, Ipoured every emotion into my craft. And when I looked out to the faces in myaudience, I knew I was pouring into them as well.
It was amazing.
I’d always known from ayoung age that the best musicians and songwriters are not necessarily those whocan play or write well. That’s certainly a part of it, but to have a vastvocabulary only means you’ve read the dictionary. Stitching the notes andlyrics together with the thread of talent, however … that takesfeeling. You don’t want to simplytellyour listeners what to feel; youwant them to be a part of it. You want them to place themselves in those wordsand that melody, and you want them tofeel.
Tonight, they did.
I concluded the eveningwith a standing bow for the two people sat at a table in the back. Theyapplauded with strong approval, and God, it felt good to feel proud again.
I jumped from the stageand headed straight for the bar to grab my backpack. Jeff held up a glass and Ishook my head, declining the offer, and his eyes widened with shock.
“Dude, you didn’t tellme I was getting porky,” I scolded, laying a hand over my stomach.
“Watching your figurenow?” he teased, putting the glass back on the rack.
“Nah. I just can’tafford to buy new pants,” I shot back with a lopsided grin.
With a knowing nod, hecontinued to put glasses on the shelves and racks behind the bar. “Hey, so theFourth of July is coming up,” he casually mentioned as I hoisted my backpackonto my shoulder. I nodded once, urging him to continue. “As you know, I’musually closed for the holiday, but this year, since Laura’sgonnahave the boys, I thought we might try somethingdifferent. Maybe get the barbeque going, have a little party. I was thinkingI’d hire a DJ, but if youwannamake a little extramoney, I’ll pay you double.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Isthis your way of trying to make me stay?”
He barked with a raspedchuckle. “Nah, man. Just trying to do you a favor. If you’re not down for it,and you’d rather spend the day with the girls—”
“I’d always ratherspend the day with them,” I pointed out.
Jeff nodded solemnly.“Yeah, I know, man. Me too.”
