Maeve's Symphony (7 page)

“How kind of you to ask, m' love.” Liam stormed across the threshold. “I've got the answer right here.”

Eyes alight he joined the meeting, lifting his smart phone and brandishing the device with a wiggle. Liam dropped to the chair next to Aileen. He carried a short stack of papers but promptly disbursed them to Maeve and the girls. “Check out the lyrics and just
listen
to this song.”

He tapped the screen of his phone a few times then settled back. Conversely, Maeve and her friends inched forward. Liam was on fire—that was more than enough to secure her undivided attention.

In seconds, the subtle strains of a violin, the dramatic build of a piano and a bass filled the air. Maeve focused on the sheet from Liam and began to read, starting with the title of the piece. There she froze.

Nothing To Hide.

Three small words combined into a one sentence conviction that blurred Maeve's world. Her thoughts skittered to a degree that she only absorbed bits and pieces of the song that hummed through the air…until the refrain kicked in and hit her heart like a fist.

Take away the superficial, make-up is blind, love is inside, nothing to hide. Take away the artificial, make up your mind, leave it behind, nothing to hide.

“This song crossed my transom just this morning.” Liam's voice jarred Maeve to the moment at hand. “I have to believe it's a God thing. As soon as I heard it, it belonged to Sisters in Spirit.”

He took a moment to study their faces; Aileen already nodded while Siobhan and Kassidy continued to review the words. Liam continued. “The start of the song is all about what culture sees as beauty, and blowing its unattainable expectations out of the water. Aileen, that verse is all you.” Liam's fingertips moved down the centered blocks of verse. “KC, there's a section about rejecting pressure and cultural expectations. It's awesome, and it's your anthem. Maeve, you've always been our woman of mystery and intrigue; there's a verse about being public, being private, watching life go by, and the freedom we gain by surrendering—in this case to God's Word and plan. It's perfect for you.”

Maeve struggled to breathe. Evidently each Sister would have an individual verse, and yes, Liam's logic was without fault. That lent her no comfort. She was expected sing this song? To remain hidden from sin while she sang about revelation and surrender?

“The message is outstanding, Liam.” Aileen's enthusiasm carried through to everyone. Everyone but Maeve.

At last, she had to interject. “I don't know, Liam. I mean, it's a great song and all—” she imbued the last words with a positivity she didn't feel “—but shouldn't we stick to something time-honored and familiar for an event the scale of Lincoln Center?”

The assemblage focused on her, and the mix of startled reactions left Maeve to realize her acting skills might need a bit of fine tuning. Her opt-out plan had failed. Horribly.

“What better time to introduce a song from the new album?” Liam's answer came wrapped in conviction. “We want to leave your fans looking for more, and new. It's actually a perfect pre-release strategy for any new album. The gala lends itself to lots of exposure to new listeners. Let's take advantage of it.”

“I agree. And the song is amazing. I'm all for it.”

Kassidy's opinion was echoed by everyone else at the table and Maeve's stomach dropped. This was a nightmare. No way could she sing this song…not when standing next to the ones she had deceived since her fall, and most assuredly not in front of Josh, but she had no choice.

She expelled a breath of air that tossed a curl of hair near her cheek, forcing herself to a point of acceptance. She was an actress. A seasoned performer. She could do this—she
had
to do this—starting here and now.

“Then I'm with you, of course. It'll be great. Just offering my two-cents.”

Her smile dawned on perfect cue. She made sure of that. She nodded in acceptance, pushing herself to move on. All the while, the fear brought about within the words of a simple song swept straight through her soul.

Nothing to Hide.

Maeve diverted further by indulging in a long, much-needed draw on her coffee while the Sisters informed Liam of their additional song plans and performance ideas.

“Perfect.” Liam rested from a furious note-taking session. “Since we're all agreed, I'll move us on to the next part of our meeting. Legalese. I've got the contracts right here, ready for signature.”

“Then it seems I'm right on time.”

Josh strode into the room looking freshly rested—curse him—and fantastic in a simple pair of blue jeans, an untucked dress shirt of blue plaid with a white t-shirt underneath. Maeve set aside her cup so hard and fast it clattered against a ceramic coaster. Blast. Wasn't that smooth? He sank onto a chair directly across from her, gaze and smile fixed—potent.

The girls covered for her—bless them one and all—though they shot her discreet, questioning looks.

From there, the meeting turned all business. Paperwork swirled, discussions took place about timing and schedules, rehearsals and promotion. Heavy-duty promotion. Promotion the likes of which Maeve had never before experienced. There would be interviews on numerous morning shows—both television and radio, both national and local—along with appearances on an A-list of daytime talk shows the likes of which left her awestruck.

“This is going to be amazing.” Head bent over the PR roster and performance/rehearsal itinerary, Maeve tried to remain grounded while fantasies carried her to the historic floorboards of an opulent stage, to a glittering event at a theatre tucked into the very heart and history of the world's most art-enthused city...and far away from a song that threatened to unsettle her carefully cultivated foundation.

“Where will we be staying?” Siobhan posed the question, focusing on her brother.

“We've got four rooms blocked at the Warwick Hotel. Times Square and the theatre district are an easy walk. Plus, you'll be central to rehearsal locations and just two miles from the venue.”

“I remember the Warwick from my days in the city.” Maeve addressed the assemblage. “It's elegant and classy. Very Euro. There's lots of crisp marble and warm wood. Great atmosphere and location. I used to love gathering with friends at the Randolph after particularly strong performances.”

“Actually, the Warwick is just a few blocks east of the condo where I'm staying.” Josh crossed his legs and stretched back. “But I'll be spending most of my time in Long Island.”

“What's in Long Island?” Curiosity and interest got the better of Maeve before she could strike the internal edit button.

“Quantum Leap. Some folks refer to it as a sports training center.” Josh delivered a rueful wince. “I refer to it as Torture Central.”

Siobhan chuckled. “Sounds like our choreography coach Elizabeth Portier would fit right in. She's our version of a torture queen. Liam, has she signed on for this performance?”

“Immediately. Claims she's determined that you all uphold her reputation as a preeminent dance instructor.” Following a shared smirk with Siobhan, Liam addressed Kassidy. “And Drew is meeting us in the city next week. Now that we're official, I'll give him the green light to set up a meeting on Monday or Tuesday with the production team at Lincoln Center.”

“He'll make it incredible.”

Kassidy's features lit and Maeve smiled, enjoying her friend's display of bias. Next, her gaze danced to Josh. Coming upon his dark-chocolate gaze stirred a heady, though futile, rush of longing for that level of happiness.

“My goodness—this is real. It's going to happen.” Aileen's mood was radiant. She closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Unreal.”

When the meeting concluded, Josh asked the team to assemble in a circle. “If it's OK, I'd like to offer a prayer for what we're going to be doing.”

Hands connected in an instant. Heads bowed.

“Jesus, we stand before You in awe and thanksgiving. You give us the opportunities, the gifts, the enthusiasm, to carry Your plans to fruition. Please be with us. Bless our efforts to honor You and show the world Your love. We're so grateful to You. Amen.”

A quiet and unanimous “Amen” filled the spaces between them, acting as glue, as purpose.

Gradually her friends separated. For an extra beat or two, Maeve remained rooted to the spot, lost to the call of a man who, in spite of celebrity, in spite of every cultural beckon that could have ripped him to shreds, continued to put God first. That fact was powerful and telling.

Before leaving, he cornered her at the conference table. Maeve noticed the way her friends kept their distance. The show of discretion was somewhat obvious—but appreciated since Maeve struggled to find even footing.

Josh lifted her coat and held it open for her. “I wanted to tell you I caught up with Doug last night.”

“Good. I'm sure he can't wait to see you.” Maeve slipped her arms into the garment. If she met his eyes, she'd be done for, so she dipped her head. Josh smoothed the coat over her shoulders, hands coming to rest upon her for a moment. Gently, she moved away by a pair of steps, busying herself by stuffing paperwork into the leather portfolio she slid from the tabletop and into a tight, protective hold against her chest.

“He told me you and the girls will cantor at Holy Spirit Church this Sunday.”

“At ten o'clock Mass. Father invited us to join the choir as kind of a welcome home reunion at the lectern.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

Maeve came up short. Of course, Josh would be there. His family had been parishioners at Holy Spirit for ages. The reality of him attending service sent Maeve drifting straight back to innocence, to happiness, to love.

And its loss.

“That's great. It'll be good to see you there.” She forced a smile and swallowed nerves.

Josh studied her flatly for a moment. Sighed. “I'm trying so hard to reach you, Maeve. Please, find a way to let me in.”

OK, so he saw straight through her, but what else was new? She couldn't fake her way through matters of the heart. Not where Josh Andrews was concerned.

While she floundered and tossed her heart back and forth between opening the flood gates and locking them tight, Josh retrieved his coat, touched her cheek in passing. “See you Sunday.”

It took less than three seconds after Josh's departure for Maeve's Sisters to converge. Kassidy took the lead, glancing into the now empty hallway where Josh had exited. “You OK, sweetie?”

“I'm fine. Perfectly fine.” On the inside, Maeve wilted and wished that voters for the gold statuette Hollywood coveted so much could witness her current performance. She'd be a serious lock for best actress. “Isn't he just the same as you remember? What a great guy.” She rattled on, words spilling in a messy, oil-slick cover of her truest emotions. “I think Josh and I will emerge from this experience better friends than ever.”

When she took stock of group reaction, Maeve was met by a trio of skeptical stares from her friends. Liam, meanwhile, kept his head low and scrutinized flight schedules and practice itineraries as though each detail were riveting.

OK, so maybe her acting skills weren't quite that award worthy.

Maeve ground her teeth. “Listen, I know it's a little weird, but we're both trying, and that's the truth. It'll be fine. I'm a pro. He's a pro. We're all pros. It'll be wonderful.”

Shocked silence reigned.

“True words. Obviously.” Coy and taunting, Aileen batted her lashes. Maeve's blood boiled, which she'd lay odds was precisely the reaction Aileen intended.

And the words rattled through her head.
Nothing to Hide.

 

 

 

 

4

 

Sunday morning, Josh joined his family in their usual pew for ten o'clock Mass at Holy Spirit Church. He shared a smile and a nod with Siobhan who sat with her folks not far away. Next to her was a blond man dressed in a light gray suit. His arm curved around Siobhan's shoulders, and his eyes widened slightly when he caught sight of Josh. Josh connected the dots. That must be AJ—Doctor Cooper—Siobhan's fiancé and ortho specialist at Westerville Memorial. Siobhan didn't sing, her gift to the group was an ability to dance with expressive grace and beauty, but as always, she would be lending support to her friends. AJ leaned in, whispered into her ear and she nodded, giving Josh a grin and a wink as she seemed to confirm his identity.

Holy Spirit Church was packed. It seemed parishioners had received word the Sisters in Spirit would lead worship as cantors today. At the start of services, Aileen, Kassidy, and Maeve blended into the choir on a dais against the far side of the sanctuary. Once time came for the responsorial Psalm, the trio moved to the altar and stood behind the lectern.

A still reverence filled the church just before Aileen announced, “Our responsorial Psalm is Psalm 103. The Lord is kind and merciful.”

Aileen sang verse one. “Bless the Lord, o my soul, and all my being bless God's name; bless the Lord and forget not His benefits.”

Josh followed along in his hymnal as the congregation chimed in with the refrain. Next came Maeve.

“God pardons all your iniquities, and comforts your sorrows, redeems your life from destruction and crowns you with kindness.”

Josh's gaze darted to the front. Three-part harmony was enjoined during the response; parishioners sang along, but his world froze on an echo of the words she had sung.

Kassidy continued with the third and final verse but Josh wondered if Maeve had been as struck by the verse selected for her as he was. Iniquities pardoned, sorrow comforted—life redeemed. God's hope, overriding all else.

Was that promise a possibility for them?