It didn’t matter. I wrote that song for Kim. I would play it for her now. Let her feel my love. I just hoped the music would find her wherever she was. I thought of how beautiful she was when she played with abandon. I pictured her laughing and playful, splashing water in my face before swimming away. I imagined the furrow of concentration on her brow when she wanted something desperately. I had been that thing and I’d let her go.
The stage was empty. The symphony hadn’t come, but what had I expected with how I’d behaved? I sat down at the piano bench, wiped my sweaty palms on my dress pants again, and cleared my throat.
I spoke low into the microphone. I blocked out the hundreds of people and thought only of Kim. “This is a song I wrote for the woman I love.”
The first notes of Can’t Look Back rang out into the silent night. Soon my voice joined in. I sang the song from my heart. It was as much a part of who as I was as any classical composition I wrote for the world’s best symphonies. It was all a part of the same person. A person who loved Kim Dae. As I sang, I thought of her. I poured my soul into my words.
Crushes and whispers mature into fire
Control held with a well-worn wire
Thoughts of you burn with sin
I look at you,
But you, you’re looking at him.
My throat was raw from all the feelings that overwhelmed me.
I paused when emotion overtook me. The audience was silent. When I glanced up from the bright lights the whole audience listened with rapt attention. I’d forgotten there was power in all types of music. I’d forgotten this feeling.
Music wasn’t about showing off talent or proving a point. It was about finding a way to make a connection to people. Like the night at the bar, or this song, music was the feeling of universal understanding.
Chapter 40
Share your heart through your music.
KIM
It was a good thing I wasn’t a big believer in signs. Because if I was, I might take it that the universe was flashing a big old “BAD IDEA” one at me right about now.
I ran out of gas. The car drifted to the shoulder with the telltale click-click-sigh. Distantly, I recalled the low gas warning icon had been flashing. But I often saw warnings and ignored them. Roddy, for example.
I was stranded all alone on the side of the road, in the middle of the Smokies. In my defense, when I took Mom’s car I’d been hurrying, my nerves rattled. There were a lot of reasons I wasn’t on my gas game, so to speak. The show started in less than an hour and I had no idea if I would make it in time now. I’d been practicing my butt off for days. I had a plan. Frustrated tears burned at my eyes. I took deep breaths to get my bearings. Deep, cleansing breaths. It would be alright. Someone was bound to drive by.
I gnawed on my lip and got out of the car, too anxious to sit still and wanting to wave the first person to pass. How far would the walk be to the nearest gas station? It was still a good ten-minute drive from here. Oof. In these shoes, with a cello on my back? I didn’t think so.
As though from the heavens, a car came around the bend from the other direction. Anywhere else I’d have been hesitant, but this was Green Valley and the car was a white Honda Odyssey. It didn’t exactly scream kidnapper. I waved my arms around like a lunatic trying to get their attention. They passed me and my shoulders slumped, defeated.
But then the car turned around! In a smooth motion, the van performed a three point turn on the narrow mountain road. As soon as it rolled to a stop behind me, I ran to the driver’s window. I knocked as the driver began to lower it.
I was coming off as a total lunatic. That’s okay. I was a lunatic. A lunatic in love and on a mission.
“Hi! I need help. I promise I’m—”
My jaw hit the ground.
“Kim Dae, as I live and breathe. Is that you?”
Shock. That was the only way to put it. Of all the cars, in all the world …
“Jethro Winston.” I stared into the eyes of the man I’d once thought I loved.
He was still as handsome as ever. Older, for sure. But that dark hair, that beard … Maybe I did have a type.
I was transported in time. The heat of a tail pipe burned through my jeans, the vibration of a motorcycle shook my body, the smell of cloves encompassed me. The back of my knees tingled. Oh, come on, universe.
“Kim, what’s going on? Is it your car? Need me to call Cletus?”
I shook my head back to the present.
“No. Maybe. I don’t know …” I took a deep steadying breath. I could do this. “This is what I need. My car is out of gas. If you think Cletus could bring someone in time so I can leave in the next ten minutes, then maybe. But what I’d really love—”
“Daddy” a small voice called out.
Jethro—a father, so weird—turned in his seat to smile at the rosy-cheeked toddler in a car seat in the back. “What’s up, buddy?”
Holy child, Batman.
“Water.” The toddler pointed to the ground.
Jethro smiled back at me. “Hang on a sec.”
As he struggled with one arm reaching behind the driver’s seat, presumably to search for a missing sippy-cup, I scanned the rest of the car. The passenger seat was empty and admittedly, I was only twelve percent disappointed Sienna wasn’t there. Suzie said Sienna had attended one of her classes and she was as amazing as we’d imagined her to be. I’d never seen her in person.
“She’s shooting in another state,” he said as though reading my thoughts. Or probably because, no offense to Jethro and his fantastic good looks, but Sienna Diaz! “Just me and the little one this week.”
I cleared my throat to find my voice. I was still half bent to look in the car. The happy toddler with dark curls waved from the back seat, saying “hi” every fifteen seconds. I waved back. “Never thought I’d see you driving around in one of these.”
“Never been prouder of a car.” He winked and just like that my insides melted.
I made an awkward face but I was in a pickle. “This may be too much, but I don’t suppose y’all could give me a ride to the performance center? I’m late.”
He glanced in the rear view mirror. “Not a problem. Just so happens we’re headed into Knoxville.”
Hopped once excitedly. “Thank you so much! Just gotta grab my cello, hang on.”
“Plenty of room,” he called after as I ran to get my instrument.
Back on the road, my nerves abated a little.
“Glad to see you're back in town and playing again,” Jethro said.
His voice—so many memories. This was so weird. If not for the fact that my mind was on a totally different man right now, I’d be having a freak out. What a place I’ve come to when Jethro Winston didn’t turn me into a puddle on the ground. In fact, I could hardly hear what he said for my thoughts of Devlin. I just needed to get there before he finished. I just needed to show him.
“Nerves?” Jethro’s voice cut through my thoughts.
I realized I was gnawing on my thumb and shaking my leg like I was making butter. “Yes. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I didn’t know you were playing that show tonight,” he said.