Chapter 14 #2
"No. I've been living in a luxury condo in Nashville for the past three years.
It was professionally decorated, and since I spent many years traveling around with a few guitars and nothing else, it has no clutter.
I have a few things of sentimental value, like my grandfather's guitar and his tools, but not much of anything else. What about you?"
"I like to feel warm and cozy in my space, with pillows and blankets and soft things that feel warm and cuddly."
"Pillows," he echoed with distaste. "Please tell me you don't have a dozen pillows on your bed that have to be taken off every night before you go to sleep. I mean, what is it with women and pillows?"
She laughed. "I don't have a dozen; I have four. And they provide a nice accent, plus they're cozy. I also like to decorate with unique, artisan-crafted items, so I'm a big fan of art fairs and farmers' markets."
"My mother used to take me to flea markets." His voice softened as he went back in time. "Funny. I forgot about that until just now. She used to call it treasure hunting. And we always came back with something fun."
"One person's trash is another's treasure."
"Something like that. But if I were looking at that stuff now, I'd probably think it was junk. But to each his own."
"That's what I think. Your living space just needs to feel right to you, not to anyone else."
"I agree."
She glanced at him once more. "We have something in common."
"More than one thing," he returned, his blue eyes sparkling. "If you weren't driving right now, I'd show you. Maybe later."
Her entire body tingled at his words. "Maybe later," she echoed. "But first, we have to find Ella."
The antique store was located in one of the many brick buildings in the Gaslamp Quarter of San Diego, squeezed between a tattoo parlor and a boutique selling vintage clothes.
The entire block carried the Gaslamp mix of ancient history and modern tourism.
A sign above the front door read Forget Me Not Antiques, and the front window display was cluttered with old typewriters, vintage lamps, ornate picture frames, a silver tea service, and a stack of vinyl records.
As they stepped inside, a musty smell enveloped them.
"This place smells haunted," Jax said.
"Well, there are a lot of people interested in ghosts," she commented as a throng of people crowded the aisles. "Business is booming."
"Your father would have a heart attack if he came into this clutter."
She laughed at that thought. "He would, but my mother would have loved it. She used to have a tea set like the one in the window. It might have been worth something today if my dad had kept it."
"Or not," Jax said pragmatically.
As they moved forward, the store unfolded in sections rather than aisles.
Furniture near the front. Military memorabilia in glass cases on the left.
Shelves lined with vintage cameras and old beach postcards, and ocean-oriented vases and bowls.
As they reached the back, she became aware of the soft jazz playing in the background, which went with the framed concert posters covering the brick walls.
Pictures taken at jazz clubs, supper lounges, and festivals from the fifties and sixties.
Wooden bins overflowed with vinyl albums, and there were framed black-and-white publicity photos leaning against one shelf.
She caught her breath as her gaze caught on a black-and-white photo of two dark-haired women, in black cocktail dresses, standing in front of microphones on a small stage. The caption read: "The Chapman Sisters — Live at the Starlight Lounge."
"Oh my God," she said. "That's Anita and Reina in the club." Anita stood angled toward the camera as if she already understood how to own a room, while Reina stood slightly behind her.
"You know my mother?" a woman said, coming up behind them.
She whirled around in surprise. The woman in front of them appeared to be in her fifties with the same dark-brown hair and features as the woman at the front of the stage.
"Anita Chapman," the woman repeated, giving her a quizzical look. "You just mentioned her name."
"You're her daughter?" she asked as her pulse sped up.
"Yes. I'm Ella Morena. I'm the owner of this store."
"It's so nice to meet you. You're just the person we wanted to talk to. I'm Kaia Mercer, and this is Jax Ridley. Do you have a minute to speak to us about your mother and your aunt?"
"Of course. What do you want to know?"
"We're friends with an older man named Walter Cobb.
He used to go to the Starlight Lounge, and he told us that he was friends with your Aunt Reina, a very long time ago.
Actually, he implied they were in love. But he was in the Marine Corps and was deployed to another side of the world, and they never saw each other again. "
Ella stared at her as if she'd never heard the story before. She didn't know if that boded well or not.
"Walter is an older man now," she continued. "He's a widower, and he recently moved back to Oceanside. To make a long story short, we discovered that Reina had left him a song that she'd written for him in the dressing room at what used to be the Starlight Lounge."
"That club closed decades ago," Ella said, surprise in her gaze.
"But it's still somewhat intact in the basement of the current bookstore. We were with Walter when he found the song tucked just where she'd told him she'd leave it, behind a loose brick in the dressing room."
"That's a wild story," Ella said. "My aunt left your friend a song hidden behind a brick? And it was there all this time?"
"We were all shocked," she said. "But his name was on it, and so was hers."
"I never heard any of this from my mother or my aunt."
"Your aunt is why we're here," she said, getting more nervous as she asked the big question. "Is Reina still alive?"
"Yes, she is."
At Ella's confirmation, her heart jumped. "That's great. Do you think there's any chance she would want to reconnect with Walter?" she asked.
"I—I don’t know. This story sounds odd."
"I know it does. But Walter is a nice old man, who really loved Reina, and even though they've been apart for more than fifty years, he never forgot her."
"We don't want to cause any problems for your aunt," Jax interjected, clearly sensing she needed backup.
"He's right," she said. "We were wondering if you might ask her if she has any interest in speaking to him. If she doesn't, then that will be the end of it. But we thought she should be given the chance to say yes or no."
"I'm not sure what to say," Ella said slowly. "His name is Walter…"
"Cobb," Kaia finished. "Is your aunt local?"
"She is," Ella said, but declined to expand on that. "I guess I could ask her if she remembers him. But my aunt was happily married for a very long time."
"So was Walter, but he's a widower now."
"My aunt is a widow, too," Ella said. "My uncle passed away two years ago. They always seemed very much in love. It's strange to think she might have loved someone else."
"Can I give you my phone number?" she asked. "If your aunt doesn't want to talk to him, we completely understand. We didn't tell Walter we were going to try to find Reina because we didn't want to disappoint him if it didn't work out."
"Although there's a chance he'll try to find her on his own," Jax said. "Walter was very touched by the love song she left him. We both read it, and the sentiment seemed very real."
"My aunt has always been a romantic," Ella said. "My mother used to call her the dreamer in the family, the one who liked to believe in Santa Claus and fairy-tales, even when she knew they were just stories."
"You look like your mother," Kaia said, waving her hand to the photograph. "Do you sing as well?"
"No. Even though she named me after Ella Fitzgerald, I can't even carry a tune."
"Do you have any of your mom's records?" Jax asked. "Did Anita and Reina ever record together?"
"Not together, but I have some old 45s from each of them. Would you like to see them?"
"I would."
Jax's eagerness made her smile. He really did have a love-hate relationship with music.
"Right over here," Ella said, leading them to a nearby shelf. She pulled out two old 45s and said, "These are for sale because we have multiple copies. And if you're really interested, I have an old record player you can play them on."
"I'll take them and the player," Jax said quickly. "I'd love to hear her voice."
"The player is in the back. I'll get it for you and meet you at the front."
As Ella went into the back room, she said, "Do you think she's going to call Reina? She didn't really say."
"I think so," he replied. "I can't wait to hear these records."
His enthusiasm surprised her. "I can't believe you're buying an old record player."
"How else are we going to hear them?" he asked as they walked back to the front of the store.
"It will be nice to hear her voice," she said.
A moment later, Ella brought the player out and put it on the counter.
"How much do I owe you?" Jax asked.
"Twenty dollars should do it," Ella replied.
"And I will take your phone number," she added, turning to Kaia.
"I have no idea what my aunt will say about all this, or even if she'll remember your friend.
A lot of men fancied themselves in love with my mother and probably my aunt as well.
My mom used to tell me how many men would be waiting to buy her a drink when she got off the stage, but she said they were in love with the fantasy, not with her. "
"That makes sense," she said. "And whatever happens, I appreciate your offer to help. I think it would mean a lot to Walter to speak to Reina, and if your aunt feels the same way, then maybe we can make that happen."
"We'll see," Ella said. "I'll let you know what she decides."
"Thanks."
Jax paid for his purchase, then grabbed the record player while Kaia picked up the 45s, and they left the store.
"I think this is going to work," she said, feeling optimistic.
"Unless Reina doesn't remember Walter and thinks he was just another guy who wanted to buy her drinks."
"She wouldn't have left him a love song if that was how she felt."
"That's true."
As she flipped the locks on her car, he opened the back door and put the record player on the seat. Then he gave her a smile. "I hope this story has the happy ending you're looking for, Kaia."
"The happy ending is for Walter."
"Maybe for you, too," he said with a smile.
"Maybe," she conceded.
"Do you want to get something to eat before we head back?" he asked, surprising her with the invitation.
"I was just about to ask you the same thing," she said.
He leaned forward and gave her an impulsive kiss, and a tingle immediately ran down her spine.
She didn't know why it felt so easy to be with him now when only a week ago, he'd felt cold and distant.
But she decided to just enjoy it. She slipped her hand in his, happy when his fingers closed around hers.
A long look passed between them, but this moment didn't need any words.
Then they headed down the street together.