Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
Convincing Aunt Dahlia to use “Mercy Song” on their next record would present enough challenges if she had a lead guitar tonight. Without Caleb, her chances dropped to subzero.
Not knowing where he’d gone or why, Ariel stuck her head out the door—again—hoping to see Caleb heading this way, since he’d left a good fifteen minutes ago.
The first rumble of thunder crashed and rain pounded the window wall and poured down the panes as frequent flashing lightning brought its own sense of the unexpected to the room.
As unexpected and unexplained as Caleb’s mysterious departure.
Then he dashed into the room, carrying a guitar and, of all things, a picture frame and a small gray metal box, his brown wingtips clattering on the wood floor.
“I apologize for the delay. My guitar had disappeared from its case, so I rummaged around for this one.”
How could a guitar—Never mind. She’d think about the mystery of the missing guitar later.
Ariel nodded to the rest of the band—her signal for them to get ready to rehearse.
With the usual banter and the playing of licks, melodies, and random tunes, anticipation ran high as always when new music came their way.
She plugged in her vintage pink paisley Telecaster, prepared to play the song from memory.
“Just a minute.” Aunt Dahlia pulled Ariel aside and whispered, “I like the lyrics, but why does it have jazz chords?”
A question so soon? “Try to keep an open mind.”
Aunt Dahlia raised her brows, cocked her head to the side. “Whenever someone says that, I don’t like what’s about to happen.”
“I think you will.”
Ariel gave a four-count, then Caleb played the intro solo. Drum brushes and acoustic bass came in at measure nine.
She signaled a repeat and soaked in their good jazz sound.
Ariel came in with vocals and crescendoed at the chorus. “‘Sweet mercy, falling like tears…’”
The blend of jazz-inspired emotion and heartfelt praise and thankfulness for God’s mercy brought a powerful awareness of the pleasure and presence of the Lord.
She signaled a repeat and sang her own words of worship for a time, then when she slowed the tempo and brought the song to a close, a sweet stillness—a holy hush—filled the room and lingered.
Mercy. Blessed mercy.
Ariel blew out a long breath, not wanting the moment to end.
“We need this song.” Isaiah’s quiet voice broke the silence. He stood at the edge of the band now, holding his ice-filled towel on his elevated hand.
Earl lowered his gaze to the floor. Whispered amens dropped across the room.
Aunt Dahlia’s silence hung heavy.
“It’s beautiful,” she finally breathed. “I’ve never heard anything like it. It’s authentic, gritty, worshipful. Earl, you did a wonderful job.”
Earl finally raised his gaze and nodded to her, his appreciation and relief filling the air.
Aunt Dahlia let out a long sigh. “But it’s not for us.”
The atmosphere changed so fast, Ariel took hold of the mic stand to steady herself. “What—why? We all love it. And we played it well.”
“I love it too. But we’re not a worship band. Y’all agreed we’re country, and that genre allows us to sing about the Lord, prayer, and faith. But our focus is country.”
How could she not see this powerful song’s potential? “You said to change things up. Reimagine the band. And you put me in charge. Can’t we—”
“We’re not gonna argue about it or discuss it anymore.” Her aunt dropped her voice to a whisper so soft only Ariel could hear. “It’s okay. I should have given you more guidance.”
Which was another way of saying Ariel had failed.
Aunt Dahlia raised her voice as she walked away. “I’ll text y’all with a plan for tomorrow.”
Mr. Augo caught up with her. “Dahlia, I think you’re making a mistake.”
Only she and Ariel stood close enough to catch his words. But Ariel couldn’t hear her reply.
The unnatural silence in a room full of musicians unnerved her until they started drifting wordlessly out, Caleb accompanying Granddad and the home health aide. Ariel wandered around the empty room. Stepped to the big door and looked out.
The storm still raged, but something about the sidewalk lights illuminating the falling rain brought a sense of peace in the midst of turmoil.
She eased open the heavy door and stepped onto the porch, watching the lawn and the lights and the canopy of trees. The raindrops beat an erratic staccato on the windows as the drops hit the glass, then drifted down the windows like tiny diamonds.
Something about the air gave her a feeling of freshness, of a new start, and the evening’s frustrations fell to the grass with the rain, making space for a new thing, a solid aspiration. Something that would ground her and bring deeper satisfaction.
She heard a sound in the parlor, then the door opened and Caleb met her on the porch.
Deep and wide, the porch had ample space to keep them dry as long as they stayed far under the high ceiling, watching the beauty of the storm. “I saw you leave right before we started,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Sort of. Somebody messed with my guitar.” He explained the situation as Ariel pulled her sweater closer around her and gazed out at the dimly lit lawn and the pouring-down rain.
“I never thought we’d have a mystery to solve on Jonathon Island,” she said. “But the main thing now is to find your guitar. We can’t let something that meaningful simply disappear.”
“Don’t worry about that old guitar.”
“But it’s your favorite. The one you sacrificed for.”
Caleb turned to her, his brown eyes soft in the lamplight. “I was proud of you tonight. Your vocals were tight, and you played well too.”
“I was sure she’d say yes.”
“Miss Dahlia surprised everybody.”
Seconds ticked by. “Say it, Caleb. It’s okay.”
He drew a breath. “She’s right.”
“As always.” Ariel closed her eyes for a moment. “I didn’t want to admit it.”
“Me either, but we should have seen it coming. Her vagueness gave the impression she was open to anything. But she’s smart and knows her audience, so she can’t say yes to this song.”
“So we have a double failure. Earl will sell this fantastic song to another band, and we still don’t have the refresh Aunt Dahlia wants.”
He hesitated, his gaze intense. “Or you could record it and send it to Ned. Branch out on your own.”
And add another rejection? She shook her head.
Caleb took a step closer. “But we have one big win. At least, I do.”
“I don’t see it.”
He took her hands, his eyes gentling. “I’m looking at the win. I got to see you again, get to know you.”
How sweet. “I’m glad, Caleb.”
“I didn’t honestly expect to succeed as an innkeeper.
And that could still go either way. But when I heard you were coming to the island, I figured I’d catch your concert next month and maybe try to say hi at some point during your stay.
” He hesitated. “Never dreamed I’d get to spend this much time with you. ”
“I’m glad you’re here. You were my hero at the Dove Awards, you know, and I always wanted to thank you.” She gave him a rather shaky-feeling smile. “So, thank you, Caleb.”
“That night changed something in me. I wanted to be there for you, protect you from hateful people like Molly Banks.”
Oh…wasn’t that what Ariel always wanted? Someone to be there, to help her find her place in the world? Someone she trusted to tell her the truth about who she was and what she had…
“Your aunt has an uncanny knack for recognizing talent. If she believes, as I do, that you have what it takes, then you do.”
“She does, but I’m the child she never had. If I suddenly went tone-deaf, she’d say I was singing great harmony and would defend me to the death. So while I trust her heart toward me, and I know she’d never intentionally hurt me, I don’t trust her perception of me as a musician.”
He smiled a slow smile. “Do you trust her ability as a businesswoman?”
“Other than her aversion to merch, yes.”
“And when it comes to you.”
Oh. She’d never thought of it that way.
“But even if you left music behind and never sang another note, you’d continue to bless people. You love your fans, and people trust you because they sense your genuine love for them, even the first time you meet them.”
“If I do, I learned it from Aunt Dahlia.”
Caleb turned to her, took her hand. “I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t have made it through these hard times without you. Not only because you have a knack for solving problems either.” His voice dropped to a deep, raspy, delicious near-whisper. “Ariel, I like you. A lot.”
And just like that, he eased closer, then wrapped one arm around her waist and drew her close.
The raindrops pattered down on the grass and the leaves and the bricks, playing their little percussion tune that brought a sense of peace, of contentment. And as she looked into his soft brown eyes, she saw trust and affection and protectiveness. Just as he’d spoken.
So when his gaze fell to her lips and his other hand slid down her back, down the length of her hair, she knew he wanted to kiss her. She leaned in and closed the distance between them, her fingers brushing his cheek and her face tilting up.
It was the moment she’d waited for, dreamed of for years. Now she knew she wanted her first kiss with this man. Unsure what to do, she waited for him to lead, and he took his time, let his gaze roam her face, touched the hair falling over her shoulders.
He smelled of leather and fresh rain, tasted of sugared mint and contentment as he kissed her in the mist, as if his kiss could heal the past and seal the future.
And the wind blew and the thunder crashed and they were safe, here together, strengthening each other and present for each other and speaking silent words of comfort and affection—
Then the door burst open.
Aunt Dahlia. Stepping onto the porch, mouth open, eyes wide. She recovered quickly, pointing at him with a manicured, red-nailed finger. “Caleb Kennedy, I trusted you.”
Ariel let out an audible breath as she stepped from his arms.