across the lyrics I wrote about Abby’s father and hum the tune in my head, remembering it all these years later.
I go to the keyboard. It’s for the band, I tell myself.
I position my hands over the keys and close my eyes. Then I play. I mess up a few times, but then I find the right melody and sing. I don’t need to look at the words. Every lyric I’ve ever written is burned into my memory.
“Not bad,” Bria says from the door when I finish.
Surprised, I step away from the keyboard. “I thought everyone was gone.”
“Car won’t start,” she says.
I go over to the couch and close my notebook. “I think I have jumper cables.”
She follows me out. “Is that something you’ve been working on?”
“I wrote it a long time ago.” I close the barn door behind us.
“I’ve never heard you play it. It’s a shame, because it’s good. Are you thinking of adding it to our lineup?”
Our lineup. I stop myself before I say something I shouldn’t. She’s a member of the band now, like it or not.
“Maybe.” I open my trunk and get the jumper cables. “It’s cold. Go sit in your car while I get it started.” I pull over and get her hooked up, then start my car. I roll down the window. “Try it now.”
Her car doesn’t start. I go through the motions again without success.
Her forehead meets the steering wheel. “What am I going to do now?” She opens her purse and gets out her wallet. I see a few twenties. “How much do you think it will cost to Uber back to the city?”
“It’s an hour drive. So a lot. You know they don’t take cash, right? Surely you have enough in your account to cover the ride.”
She sighs. “I have some overdue bills.” She gets out of the car and slams the door. “Could you drop me off at the train station then?”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll drive you to the city myself.”
She’s surprised. “You haven’t wanted to spend one minute alone with me, not to mention an hour.”
“There’s something I need to take care of there. Something I need from my mom’s house.”
“She lives in the city? But I thought you grew up here in Stamford.”
“I did. She moved there a few years ago after she met the guy who’s now my stepdad.”
She looks at her car and then at me. “Are you sure?”
“Leave your keys in the car. I’ll text Liam to ask one of his uncle’s mechanics to take a look. I’m sure they’ll have it fixed in no time.”
“You don’t have to work today?”
“It’s Tuesday, my day off.”
“Right.” She looks as though she’d rather get in the car with a serial killer. “Okay, thanks. Give me a sec.”
She retrieves a notebook from her vehicle. It looks a lot like mine. “Don’t tell me—it’s where you write down your lyrics.”
“How did you know?”
I get in the car and flash her my notebook. “Got one of my own.” I toss it in the backseat.
She gets in and puts on her seatbelt. I look out my side window as I back up. When I look out the front window again she’s got my notebook in her hand. I swipe it from her. “No.”
I toss it in the back again.
“Jeez, touchy are we?”
“Nobody reads it, Bria. I mean it.”
She stares at me for a minute, looking genuinely sorry. She runs her hand over her own notebook. “Crew, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched it. I know how personal it can be. I won’t do it again.”
I start driving.
“Can I show you something?” she asks.
“Sure.” I put the car in park.
She opens her notebook to a page and hands it to me. It takes me a minute to realize what I’m reading. She’s changed one of her songs, adding lyrics for me to sing.
“When did you do this?”
“I’ve been working on it a while.”
Familiar with the song from when I listened to her album, I play it in my head. “Bria, this is great. Jesus, the guys will salivate over this.”
She smiles. “You think so?”
“Hell yes. Are there more?”
She nods, then looks at me strangely.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just … that might be the first compliment you’ve ever given me.”
“No way.” I think back. I’ve complimented her many times. Haven’t I? At least I have in my head.
“Yes way.”
I’m a real prick. Way to go, Chris. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a douchebag.”