Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“ D ad,” Adam said with exasperation. “Would you get away from the window?”
His dad grunted, but he kept the curtain pulled back so he could see out anyway. “Just checking to be sure. You don’t want to leave Mattie Bellamy hanging out on the front lawn, do ya?”
“John, come help me with the tea,” his mother said.
His dad snorted. “We ain’t tea people.”
“Mattie is.” His mom said. “She’s Southern.”
“Dad. You’re killing me.” Adam thought seriously about texting Mattie to change the location of their meeting.
His dad finally turned and gave him a look of smug superiority. “Aren’t you glad we haven’t moved, son? If we’d done what you wanted, all that so-called evidence you got stashed up there in that room would be gone.”
His dad tapped the side of his head. “That should teach ya to use what you got upstairs for something besides playing around in that band.”
“Yeah, but if you’d taken me up on my idea I wouldn’t have had to bring her here. I would have all that stuff in a box somewhere less embarrassing.”
“It’s not embarrassing.” His mom patted his cheek. “It’s a piece of history that I bet you anything she’ll appreciate. A girl likes to know where her man comes from. Gives her insight she’ll need in the future.”
His dad barked a laugh. “Better set fire to it now, son.”
Adam couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. “I don’t need to set it on fire. This house is going to fall down around your ears soon. Why won’t you let me make your life a little more comfortable? Name the place, I’ll get it for you. Anywhere. You pick.”
His mother gave him a kind smile. “Honey, your dad and I don’t want to move. We’ve spent longer than you’ve been alive in this house. We built a life together here. We loved each other, we made memories, we had you and Brandon. This is home.”
Adam started to protest, but she held up a hand to stop him.
“We love this house because everywhere we look reminds us of you and Brandon. If we moved…well, it would be new, which I admit would be wonderful, but it would feel empty. Do you understand?”
Adam remembered that Mattie had said close to the same thing. She’d understood his parents far better than he did. He heaved a sigh and nodded. “Okay. I get it. You don’t want things to change.”
“You kidding me?” Dad said. “I’d love the back porch to change. I want one of those outdoor kitchens, with a big TV and a cushy couch.”
Adam grinned at that. “I can make that happen, but are you sure you want my filthy music money to pay for it?”
His dad let the curtain drop. “I got no problem spending your money, son. I know you worked hard for it. I just don’t want to spend it on some fancy new house.”
“Are you trying to say you’re finally proud of me?” Adam exchanged looks with his mother. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “You told me it wasn’t a real job. Remember all those fights we had?”
“Yeah, well. You’ve grown since then.” His dad gave him a pat on the arm. “It might not be a real job, but it pays pretty darn good, so I guess it’s okay You done good, kiddo. Brandon too.”
Adam pulled his Dad in for a hug. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.”
“Yeah, well. Truth’s truth.” His dad cleared his throat. “Now what about that tea?”
Adam followed his parents down the hall to the kitchen. “Want a pool too?”
His dad snorted. “Now what would we do with a thing like that?”
Adam waited on the front porch of his childhood home feeling more nervous than he’d ever felt in his entire life. He’d been so anxious the first time he sang in front of a sold-out stadium that he threw up three times, including once during the middle of the first song, but it didn’t even come close to how he felt right now.
A black SUV pulled onto their street and slowed to a stop in front of his house.
Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. He stood up as Mattie got out of the car and forced himself to saunter, rather than race, down the sidewalk to the curb .
Mattie came around the front and stopped a few feet away from him.
Time stopped while she looked at him with those enormous hazel eyes that saw straight past his bullshit, and his insides quivered.
She played with the keys, jiggling them back and forth. Creases appeared between her eyebrows. “Hi.”
“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I didn’t know what was going on, but I should have. I never should have lied to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I just wanted to get to know you, but that’s no excuse. I was a blind fool.”
“Adam…,” Mattie said.
He held out his hand. “I know you probably don’t want to be here, but I need to show you something. If you’ll let me. Then you can leave and never see me again if that’s what you want.”
Her gaze shifted to the window then back to him. “Is this your parents’ house?”
“They promised to stay out of our way.”
Her lips twitched a little. “Your dad is peeking through the curtains.”
Adam glanced back at the window. Curtains swung a little as if someone had just dropped them back into place. “Yeah, he’s a little anxious.”
“He’s not the only one,” she murmured.
The light in her eyes wasn’t anger, he didn’t think. He gestured to the door. “Come in?”
She nodded and followed him up the steps.
It might have been his imagination, but he thought he heard his parents’ pounding footsteps as they hurried away from the front window. By the time he opened the door, they were nowhere in sight.
He pointed up. “What I have to show you is upstairs. ”
Mattie looked where he pointed, then glanced around with a frown. “Where’d they go?”
“They didn’t want to intrude.” He took the first couple of steps, then realized Mattie wasn’t following.
She peeked into the front living room, then went down the hall.
He stood where he was, frozen by possibilities. If she wanted to meet his parents, did that mean she’d forgiven him? Or did it mean she was about to tell them how horrible their son was? He felt like a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew.
He shook himself and followed her into the kitchen in time to hear his mother cry out, “Mattie! Come in, come in. We’ve been dying to meet you. I made sweet tea.”
His mother had folded Mattie into a tight hug that Mattie appeared to return. His mother was taller than Mattie, especially in her heels with her hair up in a neat bun. She looked like she’d just stepped out of the classroom, even though it was Saturday.
His dad stood awkwardly nearby. His gray hair was slicked back, and he had on the good shirt he usually wore to dinner or church. He looked pointedly at Adam.
“Well, introduce us, son.” His dad’s gruff voice caught his mother’s attention.
“Now, John, you know perfectly well who this is. Don’t mind him, Mattie, he’s a little starstruck.”
Mattie surreptitiously wiped a tear away and held out a hand to his father. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Brooks, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Now you call me John, Miss Bellamy.” He shook her hand.
“And I’m Barbara, or Barb, or Babs.” His mother patted Mattie’s arm .
“Only if you call me Mattie.” She smiled. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Adam talks about you quite a bit.”
“Well I’m sure most of it’s exaggerated. He likes to make it sound like I was the stubborn one.” His dad gestured to one of the chairs. “Care to sit?”
“John, I think they need a little time to themselves right now,” his mother chided. “Adam, why don’t you and Mattie go on up.”
He gave his mother a grateful smile and led Mattie out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his childhood bedroom. He opened the door and ushered her inside, then stood back and waited for her reaction.
The room hadn’t changed since the day he’d left. The same navy-blue comforter was still on the bed, the surfboard lamp still sat on the table, and the walls remained covered with posters, flyers, and album covers of all the musicians, bands, and songs he’d found inspirational during his high school years. The Bellamy Sisters were featured a little too often for him to be a mere fan.
In the empty spaces, teenage handwriting filled colored scraps of paper with bits and pieces of ideas that had turned into songs.
The most incriminating part of the room was the giant poster of Mattie Bellamy in a gossamer purple dress glued to the ceiling over the bed. She was turned to the side, with her hair in loose curls that kissed her bare shoulders. Her eyes sparkled, and her smile radiated private amusement.
He knew what it looked like. Every teenage boy knew what it looked like.
He tried to see the room through her eyes, and cringed.
Mattie took it all in without saying a word, though her eyes widened when she looked up at the ceiling.
It was a teenage fantasy to have Mattie standing in his bedroom. His fifteen-year-old self would have passed out from excitement. His current self was a little out of breath and unsure as he waited for her to say something.
She spun slowly in place, her gaze moving from poster to poster, until she finally faced him and stopped.
He winced, then shrugged. “This is what I was lying to you about. I didn’t think you’d work with me if you’d known about all this.”
He gestured to the walls.
“I probably wouldn’t have,” Mattie said faintly. “It’s very…you.”
She moved slowly toward the largest wall. “I think you have every concert poster we ever had made.”
“Probably.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Did you go to any?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Do I want to know how many?”
“Probably not.”
A trace of a smile lifted the corners of her lips. “I haven’t been to any of yours. Yet.”
She turned back to the wall. “I like Aerosmith too. They’re fun. Who’s this?” She pointed to a small, rough-around-the-edges flyer of the Blues Avenue Boys. Five whiskered, gray-haired men were posed with their instruments on a small stage. They all had the typical tough blues stare, but he knew from experience that was just for show.
He smiled fondly at it. “The one with the drums is Pop. My mom’s dad. He’s jammed with the Blues Avenue Boys for over fifty years now.”
Mattie touched the flyer with a delicate finger. “Do they still play?”
“Every Saturday night.” Adam pulled out his phone and tapped on the music player app. His grandfather’s voice filled the room with “Got My Mojo Working” by Muddy Waters. “He loves the standards. They cover all the greats.”
Mattie tapped her foot in time to the music and bobbed her head. She smiled at him. “That’s fun. I see where you get your edge.”
He pressed Stop and tucked the phone back into his pocket. “He’s slowing down, now. But he’s still got it.”
Mattie drifted along the wall, calling out names as she went. “Eagles. Not surprised you have that. Bon Jovi. Bruce Springsteen. Night Ranger?”
She flashed him an amused smile.
“Hey, ‘Sister Christian’ is a classic.”
“It’s a good song, it’s just…” She shook her head. “Unexpected.”
She returned to her examination of his childhood. “Billy Joel. Marvin Gaye. Creed. Journey. The Bellamy Sisters. You were all over the place.” She paused at a small piece of paper tucked between Soundgarden and Stone Temple Pilots. “This is the bridge from your first hit, isn’t it?”
“Most of our songs are in here, in one way or another.” He stared around at the room. “So that’s the big secret. You’ve been my inspiration for a long, long time.”
She shook her head. “The Bellamy Sisters, maybe. But your sound is nothing like ours.”
“Not the group. You.”
She blinked at him. “Me.”
“Some of it wasn’t even you, it was the idea of you.”
He looked into her eyes and felt the connection they’d shared on the island take hold. “You’re a hell of a lot more than some teenage fantasy, Mattie. You’re so talented it makes my head spin, and I can’t live with the fact that I had any part in making you doubt yourself. You’re not a backup to anyone or anything. Your words touch millions of hearts all over the world, including mine. Please, don’t ever doubt yourself. Especially because of me.”
She turned her attention to the largest poster of The Bellamy Sisters. “I don’t mind being the backup.”
It was a live shot of their Daydreams tour. Della was larger than life, front and center, all sequins and sparkle. Piper was leather and rock. Mattie was on keyboards to the side, but the light behind her framed her hair like a halo. She had a dreamy, ethereal quality that made her look like an angel.
She stared at the poster.
“Do you miss it?” he asked quietly. “The stage I mean.”
“No.” She sighed. “Maybe a little. I miss them. I miss the music we made together. I liked it when we sang for Dad in the living room or put on a show in the backyard. It doesn’t matter where, you know?”
He thought about the garage sessions he’d had with the guys and knew exactly what she meant. He loved the crowd, the bigger the better, but if he couldn’t have that he’d be just like Pop, singing in a corner of whatever bar would have him, because it was the music that filled him, not the applause.
“Why haven’t you gone solo?”
She hugged herself like it was suddenly cold in the room. “It just didn’t feel right. Would you?”
“Hell no,” he said immediately. “I’m no good on my own. Just ask Brandon.”
He was rewarded with a soft chuckle.
“So now you know all the dirty secrets. My parents keep a room-sized scrapbook of my teen years, and I have a giant poster of you on my ceiling because I had a huge crush on you in high school. But you don’t have to worry about it, because I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Mattie breathed out a choked laugh. “You don’t?”
“Nah.” He grinned. “Now I’m in love with you. ”
She blinked.
He wasn’t sure what that meant. He hoped it was a good thing. “I love you for so many reasons. The way you watch the sunrise with that dreamy look in your eyes. The way you light up the room with your smile. I love the way you include all the guys when you’re writing songs. Me and Johnny J didn’t do that, but we should have. It’s added a depth that we’ve been missing.”
Her hand fluttered up to her chest. “Adam…”
He held up his hands. “I know I’m a lot to take. I’m almost done, I swear. The reason I brought you here was to make sure you knew that the way you put heart into lyrics is what convinced me to chase after my own dream back then. You’re the inspiration for so many people out there. Don’t ever stop writing. Don’t ever stop making music. No matter what the next asshole says or does.”
“The next…” She swallowed. “What if I don’t want there to be a next?”
He held very still.
She took a small step forward, then another, until she was so close there was practically no space between them. “What if what I want is right here in front of me?”
His heart skipped several beats. “Are you saying you forgive me?”
Her lips quirked. “I’m saying I love you.”
His pulse raced with all the implications that came along with those three little words. “You do?”
She put her arms around his neck. “I love the way you give whoever you’re talking to your undivided attention. I love the way you go all in on whatever it is you’re trying to do. I love the way you look at me when you think I don’t see. I’m a little overwhelmed by your Adam moments, but I love them too. ”
She brushed his lips with a soft, sweet kiss. “I love you. How could I not forgive you?”
He crushed her against him and kissed her until the room spun and they were out of breath. Years of waiting, fantasizing, and hoping were finally living and breathing reality.
He pulled away slightly and saw desire in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re here. I used to dream about this, you know.”
“You did?” She looked a little uncertain at that news. “Was I…never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“Not like that.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Every night I’d go to sleep staring at your face, fantasizing about you standing right here, looking at me just like this.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head. “What happened then?”
“I woke up disappointed.” He looked around at all the things his teenage self found important and realized this was the last place on earth he wanted to be right now. “Thing is, now that I have you here, I’d really like to take you somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s no way I’m making love to you in this room.” He shuddered. “My parents are in the house.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I’m sure they think we’re already doing it. They were young once too, you know.”
“No.” He laughed. “Just no. I refuse to picture that.”
She giggled.
“Well now that’s settled, want to go back downstairs? I’m sure Mom has snacks out by now, and Dad’s dying to play twenty questions.”
“They’re sweet. They must be. They made you and Brandon.” Her gaze shifted to the poster on the wall behind him that advertised The Bellamy Sisters first world tour. The three of them formed a triangle in blue sequins with Della in front, Piper slightly behind to the right and Mattie further back on the left. He’d gone to three shows that summer. “You think we should get back together.”
It sounded more like a statement than a question.
“I think you should do whatever puts the joy back in your eyes. But you’re not the backup, Mattie. You’ve never been the backup. You’re the soul. Don’t ever forget that.”
“The soul,” she repeated, softly. Her gaze shifted back to him, and she had the dreamy look on her face that she always got when a song lyric popped into her head. “You’re the soul.”
“I think there’s paper on the desk.” He crossed to it and started to shuffle through the drawers. “Or I can go get your bag if you want.”
Mattie touched his arm, and he stilled.
“I think I can remember this one,” she said.
“You don’t want to write it down?”
She shook her head. “Do you still have a setup in the garage?”
A slow grin spread across his face. “Oh yeah. Got a whole studio in there now.”
“Show me.” She smiled, and his heart sang.