Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Java House was buzzing already as Nora pulled up next to the familiar Maserati. Blaze waved from the table as she entered, and she walked over to him. His hair was still a little wet, and he was clean-shaven, wearing a pair of casual jeans and a T-shirt that stretched over his biceps and pectoral muscles as if it had been tailored just for him. He held the handle of his mug of black coffee.
“Same table as last time?” Nora said.
The corner of his lips twitched upward. “I guess it’s our table now.”
She gave him an obligatory chuckle, but it certainly wouldn’t be their table since they weren’t planning to meet again after this day.
Blaze stood up, leaving his mug and leading the way to the counter. “Pick your poison. My treat.”
“No, no.” She shooed him off. “I’ll get my coffee this time.”
“Please.” He gestured toward the counter. “I insist on treating because I’m going to have to drag you down the street to the recording studio for a quick favor. I tried to get out of it, but it’s an emergency.”
“Oh?”
“It’s only for a few minutes and it’s just around the corner. I can run over and then come right back, but as it’s a gorgeous day you could come with me if you want to take a walk.”
Feeling summery, Nora put in her order for a vanilla bean sweet cream latte and paid the cashier before Blaze could. “Make the coffee to go, please.” She turned to Blaze. “A walk sounds nice,” she said, as the woman wrote the order on a paper cup and the barista began packing grounds into the portafilter.
“It does,” Blaze agreed. “Mm. Those blueberry muffins are looking really good right now.” He leaned onto the counter. “I’ll have two of your muffins—one for me and one for the lady—and another black coffee.”
The woman grabbed the muffins and placed them in a bag, before handing it to Blaze. Then she rang him up, and he tapped his phone for payment.
“What if I didn’t eat blueberry muffins?” Nora asked lightheartedly.
“I’d have had to eat two.” He pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead.
She laughed, but quickly drew herself back in to remain professional. He was definitely a charmer.
The barista eventually placed their coffees on the counter. Blaze retrieved the two cups, and handed her the latte. Then he led her to the door, opening it and allowing her to exit into the morning sunshine.
“What can I help with today?” she asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Ivy let me tell her my side of the story when we went to get the car, but she seems skittish. I wonder if she believes me, and I’m not sure how to get her to trust me.”
“It might take her a little time. For many years she’s only heard her mother’s side of things. She believed her mom. But it sounds like you’re doing the right thing by trying to talk to her. Just keep doing that. Be yourself, and your transparency should eventually sway her.”
“I’m also still unsure how to respond to her grief over her mom.” He nodded to the right, and they turned the corner onto Music Row. “I mean, I hadn’t seen Candace in years, but I struggle myself with the fact that she’s gone. A couple of times, I thought about approaching Ivy to talk about her mom, but I teared up. It’s unbelievable that the woman I’d loved enough once to marry, and the mother of my child, is gone.” He cleared his throat and took a drink of his coffee, his emotion evident.
“Grief is a very complex thing. You’ll both have ups and downs for a long time,” Nora said.
They passed RCA Studio B, where stars like Elvis Presley and Dolly Parton had recorded their hits. The rectangular buildings of larger corporations dotted the landscape between old bungalow houses-turned-music-studios—the signature of Music Row. She and Blaze continued along the shady sidewalk, Nora’s handbag swinging on her shoulder, the warm coffee in her hand, the topic of loss still hanging between them.
“I’ve actually been thinking a lot about my own parents lately,” Nora confided.
“You have?”
She nodded, Gram’s admission about hearing Gramps coming to mind. “I wonder where they are. Can they see me? Do they know what I’m doing?”
“What do you think happens to us when we go?” he asked, the two of them striding in unison down the sun-streaked pavement. “Do we just hang around, or do we get to fly to some other place? Or… are we just no more?”
“None of us know for sure, do we?”
“I guess that’s where faith steps in,” Blaze said. He stopped at a gray bungalow with a banner that had the headshots of three country music artists out front. “I’d love to think there’s a heaven,” he said, ushering her up the three steps to the porch.
He opened the door, and they went inside. The place was quiet. They stopped outside a closed door. Blaze knocked, put his ear to the door and then opened it, revealing an empty room containing a wide panel of buttons.
“What is all this?” Nora asked.
He offered her a stool and she took a seat, feeling completely out of her element.
“It’s where we edit, mix, and master the sounds coming from in there.” He set down his coffee and muffin and pointed past the glass to another room with musical instruments and microphones.
She scanned the array of sliders, buttons, computer screens, and lights. “It looks like the cockpit of an airplane.”
“Watch this.” He flipped a few switches and then tapped a couple of buttons on one of the computers. Music began to pour through the speakers in the room. It was a low beat with a quick tempo.
“I like that.”
He frowned, the skin between his eyes wrinkling. “I think it should be slower.” He moved a couple of the slides up and down until the tempo decelerated. Then with a few clicks on the computer, the tinkling of bells came in underneath the sound. He lowered the volume.
“It sounds like summer,” she said, goosebumps forming on her arms.
Blaze closed his eyes. “Music is like painting. It has layers, and what you put in those layers, changes everything.” He moved a slider up, and a dark, hollow hum squeezed out the summer and caused her heart to thump with the drama.
“Wow.”
He rubbed his hands together; his passion clear. “Enough playing. Let me create a few samples so we can get out of here.” He began moving buttons and typing at warp speed, recording clips and loading them onto the computer in front of him. “I’d have done this before we met, but I got the call on the way to the coffee shop.” He didn’t look up from the workstation, his entire attention on it.
“It’s fine,” she said, curious about his work.
With a few more clicks, he had three samples. The first one was softer, more romantic. The second, happier. The one after that so bouncy she wanted to get up and dance.
She sipped her coffee. “You make all this look effortless.”
“Ah, the workstation is like an instrument itself. You just have to know how to play it.” He met her eyes. “We were talking about heaven. This is my heaven.” He saved the clips to the computer and turned toward her. “Do you actually think there is a heaven?”
“I think so, yes.”
He nodded, pensive.
“My grandmother swears she can hear my grandfather sometimes. I don’t know if that’s true, and the field of work I’m in tells me it’s probably her brain coping with the grief of losing him, wishful thinking on her part. But a tiny piece of me believes it might be true.”
“Only a tiny piece?” he asked, interest in his gaze.
“Do you believe in heaven?”
He frowned, clearly thinking it over. “For Ivy’s sake, I hope so. It would be nice to know she’d see her mother again one day.” He opened the bag and handed her a muffin. “I’d say I believe more than I don’t believe.”
Nora gently pulled the muffin paper from the side of the cake and pinched a small bite. She dared not admit that she wished with every fiber of her being that there was a heaven and that her belief in a higher power meant something. But the world, and even Carson sometimes, could paint the picture that she was a fool for trusting in her faith.
“What makes you believe?” She popped the sugary sweet confection into her mouth.
“I suppose that even as great as it is here on earth…” He waved a hand at the workstation. “This can’t be as good as it gets.” He flashed that handsome grin of his.
Nora liked that answer. His response was a ray of clarity in the darkness she’d been in recently.
He set down a few napkins on a small bit of counter in front of them.
“Have you ever asked Ivy if she’d like to see all this?” Nora said. “Knowing where you are all day and what you’re doing might be helpful.”
“That’s a great idea… If I can motivate her to get in the car and come in with me. In fact, Miss Coats was wondering if you had any suggestions to motivate Ivy?”
“She’s most motivated internally, when her thoughts and feelings are validated. But aren’t we all?”
“Right.” He took a bite of his muffin. When he’d swallowed, he said, “I still think you somehow have a magic touch.”
“I don’t think so. It’s just my version of this.” She waved a hand at the workstation.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“The way you can make music and naturally have a plan in your head for what works, I’m the same when it comes to reaching people.”
“You’re definitely skilled at it. I listen to Ivy and I think I validate her thoughts, but she doesn’t respond the same way to me as she does to you.”
Nora peeled more of the paper from around her muffin. “It’s a little different as the parent. She’s going to have her guard up around you because you make the rules.”
“You made rules for her, too, though,” he countered.
“Yes, but in the end, if you wanted to pull her out of school and away from me, it would be your call.”
He chuckled lightly as if her comment were ridiculous. “I’d never do that.”
“But you could. You have a lot of power in your relationship. She subconsciously knows this.”
“So what do I do about it?”
“Be consistent and honest, like I said. Acknowledge her feelings and explain why you’re making your decisions. She might not agree, but she’s a reasonable person, and when she has time to consider your choices, she’ll probably come around.”
He fell into a contemplative silence, and she allowed him to work on the task at hand. Did he believe her? He continued to work, tempos rising and falling, instruments filtering in. She zeroed in on his strong hands as he typed, the roundness of his shoulders and the ease in which he communicated. He had a confident yet causal way about him that was undeniably attractive, and she could see why he’d been on eligible bachelor lists. Just sitting with him made her question ever dating Carson in the first place. There were better guys out there. Why had she almost sold herself short?
“Let me just double-check the beats made it to the internal server so the band can access them from home. Be right back.” He got up and went into another room.
She watched him go. A woman like her could never have someone as charismatic as Blaze Ryman, but it was fun to imagine what it would be like to have him walk into a room and make a beeline to her.
She needed to get a grip. She’d done her job and helped Blaze with his questions, but now it was time to get on with her summer before she made a fool of herself.
When he returned, she picked up her cup. “I hope I’ve given you enough to pass on to the counselor. I should probably get going.”
“You haven’t finished your muffin.”
“I can wrap it up.” She folded the paper around the leftover portion and rolled it in the napkin. “I’m leaving for the coast today, so… I need to head home to be sure I’ve got everything packed for my flight.”
“I remember.” His lips parted again as if he wanted to say something, his body restless.
She retrieved her handbag from the floor and slipped it over her shoulder. She stood up and balled her half-eaten muffin in her fist.
He rose, the stool groaning loudly on the hard floor. “Ready to walk back to the cars then?”
“Okay.”
They left, passing a few people in the hallway. Blaze gave each of them a friendly nod. He opened the door for her, and they stepped back into the sunshine.
“It’s getting hot already,” he said, switching his coffee and muffin to the same hand so he could retrieve a pair of Ray-Bans from his shirt pocket. He slipped them on, looking like a rock star.
With her simple outfit and flats, she paled in comparison.
Even after spending time together, walking next to him was surreal. Nora had seen him online, conversing with the biggest stars in the country, and yet they made their way to their cars as if he lived a totally normal life. But while he could play the part of a star—he was extroverted, charming, and walked with a kind of confidence that set him apart from the average person—he was also down to earth, kind, and easy to talk to.
She was still thinking about it when they arrived at their cars.
“Well, you have my number. Text me if you need anything this summer: concert tickets, coffee suggestions…” His gaze lingered on her.
Why was he doing that? It was probably fear that he’d have to navigate the summer with Ivy with little help because the new counselor didn’t know Ivy the way Nora did. But with his levelheadedness and kind demeanor, he’d be okay. She was nearly sure of it.
“Tell Ivy I hope she has a wonderful summer,” Nora said.
“I will.”
“And you too.”
He nodded. “Enjoy your vacation.”
“Thanks.” She opened her car door and climbed inside. Tossing her muffin on the passenger seat and slowly sliding her coffee into the cup holder in the center console, she stalled until Blaze had started his engine and was backing up. When the view of his car in her mirror finally faded away, she exhaled and rested her head on the steering wheel.
An undefinable feeling formed in her chest—a heavy emptiness. It was a faint version of the same feeling she experienced in the year or so after her parents died, a sense that some part of her was missing after they’d gone and she had the burden of having to live with it. Why would she be getting this feeling now? While she found Blaze far more interesting than she wanted to, she had to wonder if she was reacting to the fact that she’d no longer be a go-to for Ivy. The girl had seemed so emotional on their final day together, but Ivy would settle with her new family counselor—the person most equipped to handle what Ivy was going through. Then, after the summer months of counseling, Ivy might not need Nora anymore. And after that, Ivy would graduate, and off they’d go…
Nora had to shake the feeling. It was summer. She had a wonderful trip planned, and she’d be in paradise in a matter of hours. With a shake of her head, she pulled out of the parking spot. She drove off, the moment with Blaze sliding away, getting smaller and smaller in her rearview mirror.