Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Peanut’s loud meows announced Cece’s return before she had barely made it through the door. Cece rolled her eyes and laughed. “Are you dying? The neighbors must think I never feed you.”
The calico weaved around her ankles, tail high, meowing like she’d been abandoned for weeks instead of forty-five minutes.
Cece nodded. “I’ll take that as a yes, death is imminent.”
Peanut gave one last sharp meow and sauntered off toward the kitchen, tail swishing with indignation.
“I know, I know,” Cece said, toeing off her shoes. For all her sass, Peanut was good company. It helped that she was incredibly cute. “You obviously need better staff, don’t you. I’ll feed you before my walk next time, even if you are still sleeping.”
Peanut sat by her empty food bowl and cleaned her front left paw, clearly unimpressed by Cece’s attempt at reconciliation.
Cece smiled. The walk with Blaise had been great, but it was good to be home. Back in her own space. Her sanctuary, no matter what happened next in her life. She fed Peanut, giving her pets until all seemed to be forgiven, then Cece headed for the shower.
The hot water helped wash the beach off her skin, but it didn’t rinse away everything else.
The waiting. The not knowing. The way her body suddenly felt like a question mark instead of something dependable.
Cece closed her eyes, breathed in the calming scent of her lavender body wash, and reminded herself she was allowed to keep living her life while answers took their time.
She wasn’t putting anything on hold just in case. She was moving forward. If nothing else, it was a good distraction.
When she was dressed again, she padded down the hall to the spare room.
Her studio. It still didn’t feel real to call it that. Probably wouldn’t for a while. Just like when she’d become a reporter, she once again felt more than a touch of imposter syndrome. It wasn’t as bad now as it had been then.
She was skilled in interviewing people. She knew how to draw them out, how to get them to share. How to give them a safe space to talk about what mattered. And that was exactly what she’d be doing here. Just in a different format.
Podcasting. In her studio. She smiled.
For now, it consisted of her small desk on one side, the new table as the main working space, a decent microphone, two sets of headphones, a laptop, and a pretty rug that helped dampen the echo.
She’d hung a couple of prints on the wall.
She’d forgotten she’d had them stored up in the loft.
They were nothing fancy, just things that made her smile and gave the space a little hominess.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was hers. And that was all that mattered.
Cece sat down, adjusted the mic, and put on her headphones. The quiet inside them felt different than the quiet in the room. Focused and important.
She was really doing this.
She opened her recording software, stared at the blinking red button, and laughed softly at herself. “Well,” she murmured, “here we go.”
She clicked Record.
“Hi,” Cece said, then stopped. She shook her head and chuckled. Okay, reset.
She tried again.
“Welcome to Real Life: Take Two. I’m Cece Davenport and I’ll be your host as we delve into life after fifty.”
Her voice sounded steadier than she felt, which was encouraging. “This podcast is for anyone who thought their story was already written and then realized they still had a whole lot left to say.”
She paused, choosing her words carefully.
“I’m in my mid-sixties. I’ve been married, raised a daughter, had my world come crashing down around me, picked myself back up, and learned that starting over doesn’t mean you’ve failed.
Sometimes, it just means you’ve acquired a valuable lesson that will help you do things better on your second take. ”
Peanut slipped into the doorway and sat, tail curled around her feet, watching Cece with curious interest.
Cece smiled and continued. “In each episode, I’ll be talking with people who are navigating second chances. New careers, new relationships, new identities. Not the perfectly filtered version. The real one.”
She tapped Stop, and took a breath, heart thudding quietly as she sat back. That was good, wasn’t it? She played the intro back. She still needed music to put behind it, but she’d work on that next. She nodded as she listened. It was good. It was better than she’d expected.
Time for part two, her promo for Blaise’s interview.
She leaned in again and pressed Record. “My first guest will be my friend and former supermodel, Blaise Monroe. She’s someone who knows what it means to lose everything you thought defined you.
She hasn’t let it crush her. Instead, she’s moving forward with courage and, boy, does she have a story to tell.
Subscribe now to get notified when that first episode goes live. ”
Cece reached up and stopped the recording, removing the headphones slowly. She’d done it. The room even had a new energy now. It felt charged and alive in a way it hadn’t a few minutes earlier. Like it had just officially become a studio.
She put the headphones down and sat back in her chair, patting her lap for Peanut. “Come on. I know you want to come up here.”
Peanut let out a small chirp as she came over and hopped into Cece’s lap for attention.
Cece laughed under her breath as she petted the little cat. “That was good. But that was the easy part, wasn’t it?”
Peanut answered with a purr that seemed to vibrate straight through Cece’s body.
She reached over and saved the file, heart swelling with something that felt very close to pride. But it was good to be proud of what she’d done, even if it was just a small step. It was better than being worried.
Whatever the tests said, whatever Gigi thought she was doing, whatever came next, this was her space to say whatever she wanted. Her place to say what needed to be said. Her way to continue sharing the stories that interested her, no matter how her career had crashed and burned.
“My studio,” she whispered, smiling.
Her phone buzzed on the desk beside her.
Joe.
Cece wondered if he was calling about Natalie. She answered, trying not to sound worried. “Hi, there.”
“Hey, you,” Joe said. His voice always sounded like he was smiling directly at her. She instantly felt better. “I was just checking in. Thought you might be hiding from the world.”
“I promise I’m not,” Cece said. “I went out for a walk on the beach with Blaise this morning.”
“That’s good.”
“And I just recorded a little teaser for my podcast.”
“Is that so?” His tone brightened even more. “How’d it feel doing that?”
“Terrifying,” she admitted. “But also empowering at the same time. I think I did a decent job of it.”
“I’m sure you did,” he said. “Am I allowed to be impressed?”
She laughed. “You are, but don’t you think you should listen to it first?”
“Sure. Play it for me.”
“Oh, it’s not done. I need to add the music to it.”
A few seconds passed before he spoke again. “Music,” he repeated. “What kind of music?”
Cece glanced at the laptop, then down at Peanut, as if either one might have an answer.
“I honestly don’t know yet. Something welcoming but with a little substance.
Not cheesy, but not overly serious either.
Something that tells people there’s a reason to stay tuned.
And, hopefully, something I can use for the introduction and the sign-off.
Something that becomes the show’s signature. ”
She laughed. “Not that I have a lot of requirements.”
Joe chuckled, then hummed thoughtfully. “That’s quite the list of things you want the music to do.”
“I’m aware,” Cece said dryly. “Maybe it’s too much, but I’ve already put enough pressure on myself for one day. Overthinking the theme music feels like something Future Me can panic about tomorrow.”
There was a easy laugh on the other end. “You know,” Joe said slowly. “I might be able to help with that.”
Cece paused, her fingers stilling on Peanut’s fur. “Help how?”
“So,” he said, almost casually. “You know I write music. Have for a long time.”
She sat up. “I know.”
“Themes are challenging but a lot of fun. Takes some doing to capture a mood in thirty seconds or less.”
Her heart gave a small, unexpected thump. “Are you volunteering?”
“I’d at least like to take a crack at it,” he said. “If you want. No pressure. Just something simple. Acoustic. Warm. I’m envisioning a little melodic hook that feels familiar without being obvious.”
Cece instantly pictured him with his guitar resting against his knee, fingers moving easily over the strings, sound filling a space with a cool vibe the way his presence always seemed to. “You’ve already done so much for me.”
“Cece. Music is what I do.”
She smiled. He wanted to do this. She wasn’t asking. “Joe, that would be really wonderful,” she said, a little catch in her voice. “I would love that.”
Joe’s voice was full of happiness. “Then it’s settled. You send me the teaser when you’re ready, and I’ll see how it inspires me.”
“I’ll send it right away.” She smiled, warmth spreading through her chest. “Look at us. Multimedia collaborators.”
“Careful,” he said. “Next thing you know, we’ll need merch.”
She laughed. “Let’s start with music.”
“Deal,” Joe said. “And Cece?”
“Yes?”
“This podcast you’re about to launch? I already know it’s going to be great.”
He didn’t know that, because neither did she, but she loved how supportive he was. “Thank you.”
There was a brief, comfortable pause, then Joe cleared his throat. “I also wanted to remind you that I’m playing at Shooters tonight. Guitar, singing, my usual monthly attempt to prove there’s still life in the old dog yet.”
“You’re about the furthest thing from an old dog that I’ve met,” Cece said. She had mentioned it to the Queen Bees, but she’d forgotten to do it at book club with Gigi there. “And trust me, there are plenty in this neighborhood.”
“Well,” he said. “I like to think the crowd helps my confidence. And I was hoping you might be able to make it.”
Cece stroked Peanut’s back, her purrs soft and steady. “I’d already planned on it. And I’m bringing a few friends.” So far she had Maude and her brother Robbie, Paige and Graham, and Essie and her husband Frank, but she was going to send out a reminder text as soon as she hung up.
“Thank you so much,” Joe said. “No pressure, though. Just thought it might be a nice distraction for you.”
Cece swallowed, emotion sneaking up on her. Everyone wanted to distract her lately. It was an amazing reminder of how many wonderful friends she had around her. “I’m looking forward to it. And thank you. For checking in.”
“Always,” Joe said. “And for what it’s worth, I can imagine that starting something new right now probably seems scary, but I think it’s going to be exactly what people need.
Good, uplifting stories from the very demographic most people think have nothing interesting going on. You’re going to change a lot of minds.”
“I hope so.” She smiled at his kind words. “You’re very good at this reassuring thing.”
“I’m a retired attorney,” he said. “I’ve had years of practice telling people it’s going to be okay. But my gut says I’m a hundred percent right about this. I’ll see you tonight. Send me that intro.”
“I will.”
After they hung up, Cece sat for a moment longer, Peanut warm and purring in her lap, the quiet of the house wrapping around Cece like a reminder that she was safe here.
Tonight, there would be music and friends, laughter and fun. And she wasn’t the only one who needed distracting. It would be good for all of them.
Cece glanced once more at the screen where her teaser for Real Life: Take Two sat saved and waiting.
She wasn’t remotely done. In fact, she was just getting started.