Second Chance Lane (Brockenridge #2) - Nicola Marsh Page 0,71
her he hadn’t once panicked about touching the guitar. Either that psych he’d been chatting to was a miracle worker or his daughter’s zest for learning had been a major distraction.
Whatever the reason, he found himself reaching for the guitar. His hands trembled a little as he settled it on his knee but as he started plucking at the strings, playing the melody from Rock Hard Place’s first hit, a song as natural to him as breathing, he found his nerves settling. He closed his eyes and let the notes flow, one into another, a flawless transition from the fear holding him back to reawakening his soul. The music soothed him as much as the feel of the guitar in his hands, his fingertips sliding over the strings with innate memory. Comforting.
When he played the last note, loud applause rang out and he opened his eyes to find Isla kneeling in front of him, wonder in her eyes.
‘Wow, Dad, you’re amazing. You’re so much better than those videos I watched online.’
‘Thanks, kiddo.’ He managed to smile through the sting of tears. ‘Your mum should be home soon. Should we make some dinner so she doesn’t have to?’
‘Okay.’ Isla stood and headed for the kitchen, leaving him battling the urge to cry.
What was it about this kid that cut straight to his core?
CHAPTER
26
Tash had been deluded thinking her parents might’ve mellowed with time. They hadn’t reached out in thirteen years so she should’ve known nothing she said now would make a difference. She thought she’d got over their callousness years ago, deliberately steeling her heart. But seeing her dad reopened old wounds and the hurt poured in, stinging in a way she hadn’t anticipated. So the last thing she felt like doing now was having dinner with Isla and Kody. But when she’d seen Isla’s enthusiastic text before she’d left High Ridge, she didn’t have the heart to say no. At least with Isla there the evening couldn’t end like the last time she saw Kody, with her sobbing in his arms. That hadn’t been one of her finer moments so she’d avoided him all week. Childish, maybe, but having him hold her and comfort her resurrected too many feelings she preferred remained buried.
He’d always been great at hugs, damn him. Every time he’d come off stage at the Princeton he’d hug her tight, like performing had been irrelevant and his entire focus was her. She’d revelled in the attention and had occasionally preened when she’d seen the envious glances cast her way by groupies. Kody had been her man and he’d never given her any reason to doubt him. Which made her wonder, not for the first time, how much of a disservice had she done him by removing his choice to be a parent?
Weary to her bones, she stopped at the bakery to pick up dessert. One of Betty’s chocolate mousse cakes and rhubarb crumbles would hit the spot. Loads of sugar, perfect comfort food. Kody had a wicked sweet tooth when they’d dated in Melbourne, back when they’d been young and blessed with the fast metabolism of youth. Lucky, because Kody insisted on visiting every gelateria in the city. It had been their thing on the weekends when she didn’t have classes: late nights at his gigs; rushing back to his apartment because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other; sleeping in late then strolling along Acland Street or Brunswick Street or one of the many Melbourne laneways to sample ice-cream. He’d been a rum’n’raisin or pistachio kind of guy, she was mint choc-chip or boysenberry swirl all the way. Not that it mattered which flavour they chose because they’d end up tasting each other’s.
As she drove along Wattle Lane and spotted the lights on at Kody’s, a pang of longing shot through her. What would it be like to come home to him every night, into his welcoming arms, with their daughter happy to have her parents cohabiting? An outlandish dream considering his lifestyle, but it was nice to fantasise for a moment.
Parking under the carport, she killed the engine and got out, balancing the desserts carefully. She’d cried enough tears after seeing her dad, no point risking more over mangled desserts if she dropped them. She’d made it halfway to the back door when it flung open and Isla ran out.
‘Hey, Mum, what have you got there?’
Tash forced a smile. ‘I swear you can sniff out Betty’s creations a kilometre away.’