His Melody (28 page)

“She lied to me.” Even as he said the words, they sounded stupid and hollow to him. Like a very weak excuse made by a man who would rather undergo a root canal than admit he’d been in the wrong.

“I don’t want to hear that foolishness, boy.” Leigh Anne said sternly. “Even if she did, and I’m not saying I believe she did, maybe she did it for you. For your own good.”

“Hmph,” Austin said.

“You’re trying to pin this all on her, but the truth is, you’re afraid, Austin.”

“Afraid?” He snorted. “Of what?”

“Leaving Sweet Neck again.”

“That’s ridiculous. I go to Glennville all the time.”

“You know what I mean.” She tapped her foot impatiently and crossed her arms over her chest.

“No, I don’t.” He sank back into the couch.

Her expression softened. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I was there for a lot of it,
remember
? But you can’t use that as an excuse to hide in Sweet Neck forever.”

“And what am I hiding from?”

“You’re hiding from what you really want and who you truly are.
From the person who left here for New York at the ripe young age of eighteen.
Now, sure, you went about it the wrong way back then, and you’ve paid the price and learned better how to handle things the next time around. And that next time has come around. You’ve grown up a lot. You dream big—or at least you used to—and that’s not a bad thing at all. Don’t be afraid of the life you really want to live.”

“I’m living the life I want. The life I was meant to live.”

“The
life you
think
you were
meant to live. Your father wanted to bring you back to your family, not trap you here forever. And he wanted to share something with you that meant a lot to him. Both of those things can be accomplished without you sacrificing your happiness, you know.”

“But I
am
happy,” he insisted.

“Sure, Austin. You go to that garage and you come back here just about every day. Most days,
that’s
all you do besides work out, eat, and sleep. You’re not even thirty quite yet. That’s not a life for anyone—especially someone your age.” She walked over to him. “But when Melody was here, you were a different man. A happier one.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but she gave her head a firm shake, indicating she didn’t want to hear it. He knew better than to argue with that particular headshake.

She patted his shoulder. “Just think about it. For once in your life, try not to be so impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. And maybe, just maybe, if you’re this miserable without her, you should at least give her a chance to explain. Right?” She walked out of the living room, leaving him alone with his dark thoughts to stare at the blank television screen.

When Donnie and Avery got home, he heard all three of them talking.

“He’s just been laying there all day,” Leigh Anne said. “I think he’s taken up permanent residence on that couch.”

“It’s just as well,” said Avery. “He was just about useless at the shop yesterday.”

“Poor fool,”
Donnie
said. “I don’t think he even knows what he’s doing to himself.”

Dinner smelled heavenly as always—especially the gravy—but Austin couldn’t be bothered to lift
himself
from the couch. He didn’t think he’d be able to eat anyway. He rolled over and buried his face in the couch cushions.

It was Thursday. The showcase was two days away. She hadn’t even tried to call him. Maybe she’d called Mom. Mom hadn’t said anything if she had. Why would she try to call him? He guessed there was no reason to. He’d made it pretty clear he didn’t want to talk to her ever again on Tuesday evening.

He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. She was under his skin forever. There was no way of changing that. He should’ve never touched her, never kissed her, never held her. He couldn’t quite say he regretted it though. Every moment with her had been worth it.

He glanced toward the kitchen. Were they right? Was he doing it to himself? No matter the reason she was gone, it was better to cut his losses. Whether or not she lied, whether she thought she cared about him or not, eventually it would’ve fallen apart. It was better to let go. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, getting involved with her.

And saying he’d go back to Atlanta—why had he done that? He acted like he’d gotten temporary amnesia or something. There was a reason he didn’t get tangled up in relationships anymore.
A very good reason.
Really, more than one.

The phone rang. His mother picked it up.

“Oh, hi Melody darlin’! You’re home?”

He clenched his teeth. Just knowing she was on the other end of Mom’s phone conversation hurt. Austin flopped onto his stomach and buried his face in a throw pillow.

“Oh, I see,”
Mom
said. “Well, I guess that’s true. Yes, dear.” She talked for a while longer before passing the phone around to Donnie and Avery.

Austin slunk up the stairs, passed the bathroom even though he sorely needed a shower, and went straight to his room. Shutting his eyes, he passed out.

He didn’t know how long he slept, but he woke up to Regan’s pounding at the door and loud voice.

“Come in,” he called out hoarsely, sitting up.

She stood in the doorway and shook her head in disappointment. “You fool.”

“Can’t you let me wallow in my misery in peace?” he asked. “I’ve heard it all already.”

“Not from me, you haven’t.” She took a few steps into the room.

“And what do you have to add?”
To my self-loathing
, he added silently.

“You love that woman. Anybody can see that. Heck, I bet even your thick-headed brother Donnie can see that.”

“Please,” Austin mumbled. “I barely even know her. She wasn’t here for more than a couple weeks.”

“What, there’s a maturation date on love now?” she asked in a scornful tone. “Sure, love grows over the years, but it has to start somewhere, and it started between you two. That is, before you messed it up.” Regan twisted her lips in a disapproving fashion. She stood there, legs akimbo, one black cowboy boot tapping on the floor, and glared down at him. She looked like she was accusing him of a crime and about to drag him off to jail.

“Even if that were true, I would’ve messed it up eventually anyway. Better sooner than later,” he said, looking down at his black sheets. “I mean, look at what happened between you and me.”

“If you don’t stop holding that against yourself, I’m going to—I don’t know—shake you until I shake some sense into you.
I
don’t even hold that against you.”

“I’m not the greatest guy.”

“Well, knock me over with a feather. You’re not perfect.” She laughed a small humorless laugh. “You act like such a thing is possible. You screwed up, and you’ll screw up again. That is, unless you sit here, wasting your life away, afraid to make any mistakes.”

He laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing. You sound like Mom is all.”

“Good. She’s a smart woman, that mother of yours.” Regan squatted down so that they were at eye level. “Just answer me one question. Don’t you think she’s worth it?”

“Maybe I’m not,” Austin said, once again avoiding Regan’s eyes.

“Maybe that’s a decision you ought to leave up to her,” Regan said. “After all, she knows about just about all your demons, and she’s not the one who ran. No, you did worse than run. You pushed her away. You used some silly excuse to push her right on out of your life. Didn’t you?”

Instead of answering, he lay back in the bed and stared at his desk across the room. He thought about the notebook he’d ripped to shreds last night and tossed in the trash.

“I think I’ve made my point,” Regan said.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Melody drove straight through, stopping only for restroom and coffee breaks. Driving was good because it kept her mind off things she had no business thinking about. She shut out thoughts of Austin kissing her, the way his skin looked and felt against hers, how good making love to him had been. No. She couldn’t have those kinds of thoughts. If she did, she wouldn’t be able to make it from one day to the next.

Once she made her way back o the interstate, she made excellent time. She got back to Midtown around one in the morning on Thursday.

Melody had rented an apartment in one of the new high rises in Midtown just a few months before Saeed had been hired and her job had become endangered. It was a nice place, and she’d been excited about the deal she got on it, but since she’d been fired, she wondered how she’d continue to afford it as her savings dwindled. Hopefully, she’d have a job soon. But all she had was a hope of a dream of a chance at the moment. No prospects. She had a lot of work ahead of her.

She dragged her suitcase and overnight bag into the apartment. She set her purse on the bar that separated the kitchen from the dining room and looked around the apartment. She had left a few things in the car that could wait until tomorrow. She’d left the suitcase Austin had bought her for their night together behind in Sweet Neck. She wasn’t going to do that to herself. She’d learned the painful lesson in the past that it was best not to have things around that would only remind her of past heartbreaks she’d suffered.

Jen had been a good apartment sitter. She’d watered her plants and picked up the mail. There was a neat pile of it on the dining room table that could also wait until tomorrow. In fact, everything could wait until tomorrow—well, later that day anyway. She turned off the living room light after locking her front door. She kicked off her shoes on the way to the bedroom. She fell onto her bed, fully clothed, and crashed.

Melody awoke around ten Thursday
morning
, slowly blinking. Daylight streamed through the half open Venetian blinds. She smiled. That would be Jen’s doing.
Jen and her affinity for sunlight.
Melody noted that all of her blackout curtains had been shoved aside.

Melody sat up slowly in bed and groped around for her phone. She was pretty sure she’d brought it to bed with her earlier that morning. Her fingers closed over it somewhere down by her ankle. She grabbed it and dialed first her mother’s number and then Jen’s.

“You’re back you’re back you’re back!” Jen shouted into the phone. “Right?”

Melody laughed. “Yes. I’m here.”

“So what are you doing today? Want to meet for lunch?” Jen asked.

“I have to deal with things over at New Face. I need to pick up my things, do some paperwork, all that fun stuff. And my last paycheck better be ready,” Melody said with a grimace. “Wait a minute, we? Aren’t you at work?”

“You need me,” Jen said. “I’ll take a half-day and meet you at your place at one, okay?”

Melody smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

After she got off the phone with Jen, Melody took a shower and dressed in a gray business suit and a light blue blouse. She paired the outfit with black heels. She didn’t have to look like she’d let them win even if they had. Then she went through her mail, triaging the most important things, until Jen showed up.

Jen wore her dark chocolate brown hair up as she did most of the time for work. She wore a ruffle neck yellow blouse with a beige skirt and matching neutral heels and purse. Her oversized sunglasses rested on top of her head. She reached out for Melody with her short, thin porcelain-like arms, and Melody gratefully accepted the hug.

“Oh Mel,” Jen said.

“It’s such a long, crazy story.”

“Tell me all about it,” Jen said.

“Okay. On the way over to New Face.” Melody grabbed her purse and keys and started telling Jen the story as they headed out of the door. She started with the night of the farewell
dinner
as that was where the updates Melody had been giving Jen over the phone had ended.

By the time they parked on the street in front of the building that housed New Face Records, Melody had told Jen the entire story.

“Mel, no,” Jen said, her face showing her devastation. “I was so hoping things were going to work out for you two.”

Melody smiled wryly.
Jen, ever the optimist.
“It’s okay, Jen, really. It’s not like I’m going to cry over it or anything.” She refused to. “What’s done is done. Time to move on.” She sighed. “Speaking of which.” She gestured up at the tall, downtown building. “Let’s go.”

They went in and were buzzed up to the floor where most of the New Face offices were. Everybody gave Melody sympathetic looks and goodbyes. Some added hugs.

“You will be missed. Sorely,” said Melody’s former assistant. She rolled her eyes at the door to Melody’s old office. One of Melody’s former colleagues, who’d always coveted the office, had taken it over according to the new name etched into the glass on the door.

“So will you,” Melody said, giving the woman a hug.

“Call me if you strike out on your own,” the woman whispered, shoving a business card into Melody’s hand. Melody had mentioned doing so a couple times, but she might not ever have the money for such a thing even if it might otherwise have one day conceivably been a possibility.