29. Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Twenty-nine
Callie was putting the finishing touches on her hair and makeup when the doorbell rang, followed by urgent pounding. What the hell? She hurried downstairs, worried that something had happened to Adam or Danny, but found neither of them at the back door.
“Brian? What the hell?”
He pushed past her into the mudroom and then into the kitchen. She followed, worried that he might be losing it, but mostly concerned about getting rid of him and making it to Lucy’s on time.
“We need to talk.”
Callie couldn’t stop the helpless laughter that bubbled up. She sank into one of the kitchen chairs and laughed until tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. The box of tissues was still on the table from Friday night, so she blew her nose and wiped her eyes, and tried to regain control.
Brian watched, confused, as he leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed.
“Callie, snap out of it. This is important. ”
“Of course it is,” she said, still hiccupping. “It always is. What do you need?”
He moved over to the table, sitting across from her and opening a FedEx pack full of documents.
“The record company needs some additional reassurance that this is a friendly separation. We need to get these papers signed and notarized today so I can get them to the record company asap. Otherwise they’ll start pulling back on the publicity for the tour and the album. I can’t risk that.”
She shook her head. “I can’t do this now. You’ll have to wait.”
“Callie, we need to take care of this.”
“No,” she said, pushing herself up to stand and looking down at him. “I have a gig this morning. When I’m finished, I’ll give my attorney a call. If you’re lucky, she might be available to meet this afternoon. But for now,” she paused for emphasis, “you need to wait.”
“But—”
“It’s time for you to leave.”
“But—”
“Oh, for goodness sake. Follow me there, if you must. Enjoy the show. But if you bug me again I’ll refuse to sign the papers until next week.”
Brian stood to face her.
“I don’t appreciate your attitude.”
She grinned.
“I never liked yours either.”
Adam fought the urge to turn around and scan the room. The last thing he wanted to do was make Danny nervous by shifting around in his seat, but the itchy feeling between his shoulders wouldn’t go away. By the time he and Danny had shown up, the two remaining seats at the reserved table left him with his back to the door. He was nervous enough on Danny’s behalf. The seating arrangement only made it worse.
His nerves didn’t seem to be rubbing off on Danny, though. For a kid who hadn’t talked for nearly a year, he was awfully eager to be heard. Granted, the moment of truth had not yet arrived, but the kid looked like he was going to follow through.
Lucy worked the counter, commanding an army of inexperienced summer wait-staff. She must be loving the packed house. What a way to kick off the summer season.
Dora, Luke, and Danny chattered away, and listened raptly to some guy named Zeke tell stories about the music business in Nashville. Adam still hadn’t figured out what the guy was doing here, but he seemed to know Luke from way back. Tessa and Mel whispered to each other but refused to speak with Adam. Callie had clearly briefed them on the status of their relationship.
So Adam ate some food and, when that excuse ran its natural course, drank his coffee. He saw no need to disrupt the flow of conversation around him.
He did another casual scan of the room, this time twisting in the opposite direction. He pulled something in his neck doing a double-take. No, he was not mistaken. Kat was sitting at corner booth with not only Doc Archer, but also Danny’s grandparents.
Adam’s first instinct was to march over to their table and give Kat a piece of his mind, but the sheer number of people in the room made that impossible. Besides, no matter how bizarre the adult dynamics in the room, he wanted to keep things simple for Danny. Surprise guests and an impromptu confrontation would not help Danny get through the next hour.
So he sat. And stewed. And finally pulled out his phone.
He kept it casual. He pretended to check something— email, or the time—and when he was certain that nobody at the table was paying attention, he typed the text message:
What the hell?
He stretched so that he could see her reaction, keeping it small and, again, casual. Kat had felt the buzz of her phone over the chatter of the crowd and was pulling it from her pocket. She glanced across the room and met his eyes. Damn it, she had known exactly where he was sitting. If she knew he was here, why the hell hadn’t she given him a heads up?
She kept her movements subtle, but he could see that she was replying to his message:
Trust me.
Furious, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about the situation, but he didn’t have to like it, and he damn well didn’t have to trust her. Why should he? She certainly hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him about this little stunt.
To be fair, he hadn’t warned her that Danny might perform. Chances are she would be pissed as all hell when Danny took to the stage. The thought made him smile and took the edge off his temper.
Apparently they would both need to trust each other.
Callie slipped through the back door of Lucy’s after seeing the packed house and the overspill of people outside waiting for a table. She kept reminding herself that this was Lucy’s, the people in the audience were tourists, and there was nothing high-stakes about the performance—but her stomach didn’t believe it, churning and clenching as if she were about to play a stadium.
Not that she minded being alone onstage, but today she felt oddly exposed and unsure of herself. Maybe it was because she was leaving tomorrow, heading into the unknown. Maybe it was because she was going to play her own music after so many years of twisting it to fit the band. Maybe it was because she would be playing for Adam.
Or maybe it was nerves. Whatever the reason, she needed to get over it.
She lifted her guitar out of its case and stepped into the main room, moving with purpose to the alcove where she would play. The spot felt like home, and she started to relax. She settled onto her stool, propping one foot up on the crossbar and resting the weight of her guitar on her thigh.
She checked the tuning on her guitar using her tuning fork. The novelty of it helped to catch the attention of the diners, and the vibration of the ball on her earlobe connected her to the music in a solid, tangible way. When she finished, she looked up at the crowd. A hush spread across the room, but it was Danny, with his infectious grin, that set her to smiling. Her heart swelled and she could feel the extra punch of courage and love.
Callie took a breath and began to play. Something about launching into a song helped Callie transition into her professional mode. She knew that she could keep going no matter what happened, because during the years of touring with the band, anything that could happen had happened, and the show had always continued. Well, all except for that time in Oklahoma, but you can’t argue with a tornado warning.
As Callie continued to play, she began to feel her audience. Of course she could sense her parents and Danny and Adam, sitting only a few feet away. She wondered briefly about the stranger at their table, but let the thought drift away as she broadened her view to include the rest of the room. It was almost as if a part of her could reach out and touch each person, connecting with their hearts, so that she knew how to play each song—how to communicate with them. She moved seamlessly from song to song until she had almost reached the end of her set. She paused before beginning the last song to speak to the crowd, letting them know that this next song would be her last song, but that she hoped to play for them all again soon. She smiled at Danny and winked. This was his cue to get ready.
As she played the last song, she tried to draw the feeling of home deep inside, so that in the months ahead she would be able to find it again. She sang to Lucy, still behind the counter, who had stopped her cleanup mid-wipe to listen to the music. She sang to Brian, lurking in the corner by the door, and to Hutch, leaning against the counter with his mouth full of doughnut. She sang to Kat, who shared a booth with an odd assortment of unfamiliar faces. She sang to her parents, and Danny—but most of all to Adam.
He had turned in his seat to face her, and she took this chance to meet his eyes, to sink in, and to open herself one last time to the painful intimacy between them. She would miss this. She would miss him. He, of course, refused to be the one to look away, so she did it for him, letting her gaze roam unfocused over the crowd as she finished the song.
When the last of the notes faded to silence, the crowd broke into loud applause. She smiled, nodded graciously, then escaped into the hall. She waited a moment, then two, making sure that the crowd did indeed want to bring her back out again.
When she stepped back into the room, the crowd quieted immediately. She smiled, feeling the familiar thrill of connection.
“Thank you. Really, it’s been a pleasure to play for you today. If you like, I could play one or two more before I go.”
She got a quick round of applause and a few whistles in response. So she took her place again and waited until the room grew quiet .
She took her time with the lead-in, the intricate finger-picking leaning more toward flamenco than folk. She wanted that sense of the far-away to strengthen the feeling of coming home. This was the song she had been working on ever since she had found her notebooks—the song that she had abandoned after Brian’s visit all those years ago. After so many years away, she could finally embrace the idea that ‘there’s no place like home.’
Her gaze traveled over the faces in the room, many of them familiar. She let her eyes slide past Brian. She no longer cared how he might react to the song. He was, perhaps, too scarred to carry any fragment of home in his heart. She smiled at Lucy, communicating her gratitude for…everything. And she made sure to nod to her parents, letting them know that this song was as much about them as it was about her.
Over the last few weeks the song had become a tribute of sorts to Adam and Danny, who had given her a taste of what home could mean. It didn’t need to mean going back, running away, or hiding from the world. Home could also be a touchstone, a place of serenity at the heart of the chaos. Even if she and Adam never found a way to move forward together, he had forever changed her idea of coming home, and she was grateful for that.
The only person in the room who had heard the song before was Danny, and she smiled as she met his eyes. He looked like he might explode. He could hardly stay still in his chair. She smiled as she rolled into the last chorus. He was about to have his chance.
I press my face against the glass
And watch the miles go rolling past
I know where I would rather be
The only place I feel like me
The only place I call my ow n
It’s time to find the road back home.
I don’t care how far I go ’cause I know
There’s no place like home.
A final round of finger-picking, this time more folk than flamenco, and she let the song drift away into silence.
Danny leapt up to start the applause. She grinned at him and motioned for him to come join her. They got him settled on a chair beside her, and as the clapping quieted, she offered an explanation.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my good friend Danny Reese, who has graciously agreed to help me wrap up the show today. We’ll be performing one of Danny’s songs. It’s called ‘Until I Find Grace.’”
There was a bit of a commotion back at Kat’s table, but Callie ignored it. Danny was looking at her, making sure she was ready to go, and she nodded. Her role today was solely moral support. She was going to throw in some harmonies they had been practicing, and add some richness to the accompaniment with her guitar, but this was Danny’s show now, and she swelled with pride as he stepped up to the challenge.
Adam needed to get a grip. Danny was about to start playing, and Adam was still reeling from Callie’s performance. He had heard her play around the bonfire countless times, but he had always assumed that the intimacy came from the firelight and the darkness and the magic of the summer night. He had never seen her perform in front of a real audience, in front of strangers. She was different onstage.
She took his breath away.
He had never known another performer, never seen anyone else make the transformation from regular human being to something more. Music had poured out of her, filling the room. There had been no whispers, no fidgeting, no clatter of dishes. She had held them, rapt, as she’d played one song after another. In a way, it had been even more intimate than the time she had played for him alone, the day he had agreed to the music lessons. Rather than holding back and keeping her eyes down, as she had for him, she had opened herself completely to the audience, and in her vulnerability had captured them all. Only after the last song faded into silence did she smile and release them from her spell.
The sound of Danny’s voice, uncertain at first, then gaining strength, pulled him out of his thoughts and back to the present. Adam hadn’t heard Danny play his song since that night. Was it only a few weeks ago? So much had changed. This time, despite the emotional punch of Callie’s performance, Adam felt prepared. He smiled when Callie gave him a sharp look, checking to make sure he wasn’t going to lose it again. He deliberately relaxed, leaning back in his chair, and gave Danny a thumbs up. There was no way he was going to screw up this moment for Danny.
And really, it wasn’t nearly as painful the second time around. Adam could sidestep the giant abyss of pain and move beyond it, focusing on the song itself and appreciating what Danny had accomplished. Not only had he found the words to express his loss, but he had set them to music and created a tribute to his family. Adam found himself humbled by the clear-sighted compassion of this woman who had taken Danny by the hand and walked with him through the darkness. He couldn’t imagine a future without her.
The song ended, followed by much applause, and then the crowd began to move. Callie put her arm around Danny and gave him a squeeze, then gestured for him to lean his guitar safely against the back wall. Adam stepped forward, both to shield Danny and to give him a hug. He crouched down so they could speak face to face, and so Danny could hear him above the babble of voices.
“Nice job,” he said, man-to-man. “You seem pretty comfortable up on that stage.”
“Yeah. I like it.”
“We’ll have to make sure you get another chance, then.”
“Really?”
“Yep. And now I think there are some people who want to see you.”
Adam would have brought Callie with them, or at least thanked her, but she had been drawn into conversation with her parents and their friend. She gave him a wave as he and Danny began to weave through the crowded room toward Kat’s table at the back, and he hoped she would follow when she could. They had to stop every few seconds so that people in the crowd could congratulate Danny. Adam didn’t have the heart to cut these conversations short, because with each compliment, Danny glowed brighter.
The room had cleared slightly when Adam and Danny finally arrived at the booth where Kat and Doc Archer sat facing Lainey’s parents, Susan and John. Adam ushered Danny into the empty seat beside Kat, and he took the remaining spot next to Doc Archer.
Susan had been crying, as evidenced by her red-rimmed eyes and the small mountain of used tissues on the table in front of her. She couldn’t reach Danny to smother him in a hug, so she reached across the table and squeezed his hands instead.
“That was lovely, dear. Did you really write that song all by yourself?”
Danny looked uncomfortable at being the center of his grandmother’s attention. Like Callie, he seemed to find it easier to open up to strangers, but he was kind enough not to yank his hands away .
“Callie helped,” he answered, “but only when I got stuck. I did all the words myself.”
“That’s wonderful,” choked Susan, starting to cry again. “Don’t mind me.” She waved her hands around in front of her face and then blew her nose. “It’s been an emotional morning.”
“It’s nice to hear your voice again, son,” said John gruffly. He didn’t have a mountain of tissues in front of him, but Adam would bet he had wiped his eyes a few times in the last twenty minutes.
Susan got herself back together and finally met Adam’s eyes. “I forget sometimes how much you look like Evan.”
“I know,” Danny chimed in. “You get used to it, but sometimes it still hurts to look at him.”
Adam felt the twin knives of guilt and grief twist in his gut. All those months he had thought Danny’s refusal to look at him had been because he’d hated him. Only now, months too late, did he understand.
Kat cleared her throat.
“I asked all of you to meet me here this morning because I thought it would be helpful to see the progress Danny has made in the last month. We all worried about you for so long.” She patted Danny on the shoulder. “It’s great to hear your voice and know that you’re doing better.”
Danny flushed and looked down at his hands.
“I also thought this would be a great opportunity for us to talk informally ahead of the hearing this week. John, I understand you’ve been having some health issues lately?”
Danny’s grandfather coughed, as if in response to Kat’s question. Susan stepped in to answer.
“John has been having some heart trouble.” She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her shoulder. “It’s not an emergency, yet, but it has got us thinking about the future.”
Adam felt a flutter of panic at this news. It was one thing to fight for custody of Danny, quite another to imagine raising Danny completely on his own, without even the support of grandparents.
“Doc Archer, would you mind sharing your thoughts?” Kat asked. Adam had to admire the skill with which she was orchestrating this meeting. He gave up the last vestige of his anger with her.
The doc had been leaning back, observing the interplay among all the interested parties at the table, but now he leaned forward.
“Danny has made amazing strides over the last few weeks, to the point that I have no serious concerns about his current custody arrangement. In fact, given his progress, I would hesitate to recommend any changes in his custody at this time.”
“And Danny, isn’t there something you’d like to say?” said Kat. She gave him a smile of encouragement. He squared his small shoulders and looked his grandparents in the eyes.
“I’ve been thinking about my future, too,” he said, “and I’d like to live with my uncle, if that’s okay with you. I could still visit you, but I like living with Adam.”
John squeezed Susan’s shoulders as she started to cry again.
“Of course, honey. We can do whatever makes you happy.” She reached over to hold his hands again. “We were just so worried about you.”
Kat surveyed the faces at the table, then nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Excellent,” she pronounced. “If everyone is comfortable leaving the current custody arrangements in place, at least for the time being, then there may be no need for a hearing.”
Susan and John nodded their agreement. Doc Archer did the same, reaffirming his position. Danny smiled tentatively. But when her gaze came to rest on Adam’s face, she pursed her lips.
“You don’t seem appropriately happy about this turn of events. Do we have a problem? ”
“No.” Adam moved quickly to reassure Danny, who had looked up at him with a panicked expression on his face. “It’s just….” He sighed. He had no experience with negotiation in a family context, and he hated floundering through unfamiliar territory when the stakes were so high.
“I don’t want to do this alone.” He met John’s eyes, since Susan was reaching for the tissues again. “I’d like to think that we’re in this together. Danny needs all the family he can get.”
John nodded. If they had been standing, there might have been a man-hug, or at least a warm handshake. Susan nodded while blowing her nose. Doc Archer gave him a real smile.
“The judge will be thrilled to know that Danny’s grandparents will be an integral part of his life,” said Kat.
“They will,” said Adam.
Danny grinned, and Adam reached over to rub his red hair. This unexpected resolution had left Adam feeling lightheaded with relief. He glanced across the room to see Callie still deep in conversation. She should be a part of this moment. She was the one who had made it possible.
“We’ll worry about the paperwork on Monday,” said Kat. “In the meantime, I think we need some doughnuts to celebrate.”
She headed toward the counter to order the doughnuts, and Doc Archer chose that moment to make his farewells. When Adam turned around again, Callie was gone.