A dark, melodic sound fills my ears when I open the basement door.
It’s a sound I’d recognize anywhere…
Because it came from my soul.
CHAPTER 60
LENNON
I’m going to kill him.
Heart racing, I rush up the stairs as Phoenix belts out the last few notes and the song comes to an end.
I can’t believe the asshole had the audacity to go into my father’s room, put his grubby fingers on my father’s piano, and play him the song he stole.
I’m gearing up to run in there and kick him out, but what I hear next roots me to the spot.
“That was incredible,” my dad says. “Did you write that?”
My heart thumps hard in my chest.
“No,” Phoenix says softly. “Your daughter did.”
Regret and sorrow expand inside my chest until it becomes a crushing weight compressing my lungs.
I never told my dad I wrote songs. I didn’t think my talent ever came close to his and was convinced he’d secretly agree.
Then after Phoenix stole my song, I stopped writing altogether.
Now he’ll never know.
I’m building up the strength to go in there when I hear it.
“Lennon wrote that?”
“Yeah.” Phoenix exhales heavily. “She did.”
Excitement surges through me, and I rush into the room. “Dad?”
Smiling, he turns to me. “Hey, monkey face.” Confused, he looks around. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Dartmouth?”
“We’re on break for a few days, so I came home.”
He processes this for a moment before he speaks. “The song you wrote was terrific.” He winces. “Got a little vulgar toward the end there, but I loved it.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because he’s here. “Thanks.”
“I’m proud of you.” A smile creases the corners of his eyes as he meets mine. “I mean, I’m always proud of you, but this…you’ve got something special.”
Embarrassment creeps up my cheeks. “It’s nothing.”
Phoenix gets up from the piano bench. “I have to head to sound check.”
Emotions swing like a pendulum inside me.
Stealing my song is inexcusable…but he just gave me the greatest gift.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he passes me.
My heart rate kicks up when he bends down and kisses my forehead.
“I still don’t like him,” my dad says after he leaves.
I half snort, half grumble. “I still don’t like him either.”
He makes an irritable noise. “Seems like he wormed his way back in your life again, though.”
“Only because we temporarily work together.” That’s when I realize. “You know who he is?”
Frowning, he gets off the bed. “A father never forgets the man who broke his daughter’s heart.” He makes a face like he smells something rancid. “You were right, though. The son of a bitch has one hell of a voice.”
That he does.
Another smile spreads across his face as he sits in front of the piano. “Enough about him. I want to hear you sing that wonderful song you wrote.”
My throat locks as I take a seat next to him on the bench. “Phoenix sings it much better than I do.”
And millions of people would agree.
“Let me be the judge of that.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to decline, but this moment we’re having is like a shooting star. There’s no guarantee when I’ll see another one, so I have to make it count.
Close your eyes.
With Phoenix’s voice guiding me, I squeeze them shut, press down on the ivory keys, and begin playing my song.
And I don’t open them until the very last note leaves my mouth.
“Beautiful,” my dad whispers. “So much so I didn’t even mind the cussing this time.”
I roll my eyes and we exchange a smile.
His hand covers mine, and he grips it tight. “I’m sorry, Lennon.”
“For what?”
His eyes harbor so much sadness it’s a visceral punch to the gut. “I know something isn’t right with me.” He points to his head. “Up here.”
My heart cracks. The only positive in all this was that he was blissfully unaware of his dementia.
Tears well in my eyes, but I don’t want to lie to him or waste however long we might have talking about a disease that’s already stolen so much time.
I’d rather stick to the important stuff.
“I love you, Dad.”
Leaning over, he kisses my cheek. “I love you more, monkey face. Don’t ever forget that.”
I won’t.
Even when he does.
“You know why I named you Lennon, right?”
“Because you love The Beatles and John Lennon is the best songwriter who ever existed.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Yes. Although he’s now second best in my book.” His fingers tap the keys, filling the room with the chords of, “In My Life.”
The meaning behind the song holds a significance it didn’t before.
“Lennon was a musical genius,” he says above the melody. “But just like the rest of us, he too had moments of insecurity. Imagine—no pun intended—if John let them win? What a travesty that would have been for the world, huh?” He levels me with a look. “Don’t let your insecurities overpower that which makes your soul come alive. Otherwise, you’ll walk this earth never feeling whole…and that’s no way to live.”
Easier said than done, Dad.
Frowning, he sighs.
“What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t know why that Phoenix guy was in my room when I woke up…but I think I get it now.” Appearing lost in deep thought, he expels another sigh. “I still don’t like him, but perhaps there’s some good in him after all.”
My heart thumps a painful beat.
“Do me a favor and humor your old man for a bit.” His fingers flutter across the keys. “I’ll play and you sing.”
And that’s how we spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening.
Creating memories I’ll keep with me forever.
Just like we used to.
I’m enjoying my second helping of Mrs. Palma’s stuffed chicken when my phone rings.
I stifle a groan as Chandler’s name flashes across my screen. It comes as no shock that my boss doesn’t understand the meaning of the words night off.
“Sorry. I have to take this.”
After pressing the green button, I bring it to my ear. “Hello?”
“Do you know where Phoenix is?” he gripes. “I haven’t seen him since sound check.”
I glance at the clock on the oven. Given it’s almost eight p.m., there’s only one place he should be right now.
Gearing up to go on stage.
“No.”
“I knew this would happen,” Chandler mutters as I get up from the table. “This is why I don’t give people days off. Everything falls apart—”
“Calm down.”
Rising off my chair, I search the kitchen for my car keys. It’s been a while since I’ve driven, but Mrs. Palma says she’s been taking it out for a spin once a week to make sure it doesn’t sit for too long.