“It may have been a long time since I’ve seen you, Liron
Tabor, but I know what a man looks like when he’s feeling sorry for himself,
and what a man looks like when he’s doubting everything he shouldn’t be
doubting.” She stood, brushed the sand off of her skirt, and held her hand out
to him. “Come on.”
He frowned. “Come on and what?” Even as he asked it, he slid
his fingers in her hand and let her tug him up.
She slipped her arm through his and started to guide him back
up the beach. “I’m taking you back to my house tonight so you can stop
wallowing. Raymond’s been dying for someone to play chess with, and that is not
my game of choice.”
“I’m terrible at chess,” Liron muttered.
“Oh, don’t worry. So is he. Feel free to cheat as much as you
like.”
The laughter that bubbled up from Liron’s chest felt nice, and
despite the less than ideal situation he currently found himself in, it was
wonderful to feel like he had friends in his life again. He had been so
isolated for so many years. There was a chance to have so much more with
Melody.
Because of Melody.
All of the beauty he was experiencing in his life as of late
was because of her.
And it would all crash into blackness if he could not be with
her.
This plan had to work. There was no other option, and no
other outcome he would settle for.
* * * *
If she chewed on her fingernails anymore, she was pretty sure
she wasn’t going to have any left. She had never really been a
gnaw-on-the-nails type of person, but this situation was different. If this
blew up in her face, her whole world would come crashing down around her.
Two days ago, she’d gone to the music director—also the
conductor—of the Philharmonic she had once been a part of. She’d shown him her
score, which he had been insanely impressed with. He’d been optimistic about
the possibility of it being performed at the fall concert that was being
planned for two months from now, but Melody knew it would have to be run past
the Board of Directors before any final decisions were made.
So, that was what she was currently awaiting. Their decision.
It was like torture. How long did it take to deliberate on whether her music
score was terrible or not?
After about forty-five minutes, the music director came out
into the hall where she was waiting and beckoned her to go inside the small
conference room.
A tingle of apprehension ran down Melody’s spine as she stood
and followed him inside. All of her parents’ old friends and colleagues stared
back at her as she entered, people she had once considered her friends as well.
She had never imagined facing them could be so daunting.
The music director pulled a chair out for her at the foot of
the table and she sat, grateful for that simple luxury as her knees were
shaking so badly she was surprised no one could hear them knocking.
The music director resumed his seat at the head of the table
and met Melody’s gaze with a smile. He raised his hands and indicated everyone
else present. “Melody, please stop looking like you’re about to find out if you
passed or failed the final exam. You are one of the finest musicians to come out
of Juilliard in the last ten years, you are a remarkable pianist, and your
parents were dear members of this orchestra, as well as all of our friends. Did
you really think any of us would deny you?”
Melody fought back tears and averted her eyes to the table.
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to play my score because you feel like
you owe my family or me something. I don’t want your pity. I know it might not
be that good. I’ve never composed anything before—”
The music director cut her off with a snort and a laugh.
“Well, perhaps you should start.” She looked up at him in bewilderment, and he
folded his hands in front of him on the table. There was a twinkle in his hazel
eyes when he smiled at her. “This score is wonderful, Melody. From the dreary,
haunting first movement to the sweeping finale. Reading the music is one thing.
I cannot wait to hear it performed. This decision was unanimous.” He held up
his index finger. “On one condition.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“You must agree to be the guest conductor for the piece.” She
felt like someone had jolted her, and she started to protest, but he shushed
her. “It is your music, Melody. It is only right that you lead the orchestra in
playing it. Please, say you’ll do it.”
She stared, uncomprehending, for a few moments before she let
out the air she had been holding in a slow breath of surrender. She nodded
slowly.
The music director clapped his hands together with a grin.
“Excellent. Rehearsals will begin two weeks from now. Although,”—he slid the
music score across the table to Melody—“it needs a title.”
Melody stared at the empty space at the top of the first
page, at a loss. She hadn’t even thought of what to call it.
“We all wondered what you were up to, holed away for all this
time,” an elderly woman at her right said suddenly. “Have you been working on
this all year?”
Melody shook her head absently. “Just the last two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” The woman’s voice went up to a shrill pitch.
“That is remarkable! What inspired you?”
Melody swallowed hard as her mind filled with a hundred
rapid-fire memories. Her parents’ deaths, the funeral, loneliness, so much
aching loneliness, Liron’s music, Liron himself, the beauty and wonder he had
shown her. The passion for music he had rekindled within her. All she had ever
known and all she had ever loved flashed through her at high speed and a small
smile lifted her lips. “My life,” she murmured. “The life I had, and the life I
want.”
And, just like that, she knew what her score needed to be
called.
She picked up a pen and scrawled across the top of the page,
Liron’s
Melody.
Because the music was for him. It was about him. It was because of
him.
And regardless of whatever may be, she was his.
Chapter Nineteen
Two
months later
“Liron, seriously, stop fidgeting.”
He couldn’t. He’d never been more nervous in his entire life.
He huffed out a breath and turned when Samantha’s hand on his shoulders forced
him away from the mirror. “Do I look completely idiotic?” he muttered.
Her easy smile gleamed and she shook her head, sending her
teardrop earrings swinging. “You look stunning.” She smoothed the lapels of his
black suit jacket.
“I haven’t felt this ridiculous since I married your sister.”
It was true in so many ways. While he was never slovenly in appearance, there
was rarely a call for him to dress in formal attire, and doing so made him feel
awkward. Not only that, but he had no idea if this was going to work, and if it
didn’t, he would be spending the greater part of the evening sitting in his
living room, which wouldn’t merit the suit and tie. Not to mention, if it
did
work, he’d suddenly find himself in the human realm, in a foreign
location, looking for Melody amongst a bunch of foreign people. None of these
options seemed to be a compelling reason for him to calm down.
“Liron, you married the girl already. The scary part is
over.”
Liron glanced over at Raymond, Samantha’s husband, lounging
on his bed like he owned the universe. In all his life, Liron had never met
such a laid-back muse as Ray. But he was jovial, and fun, and caring, and he
looked at Samantha like she walked on water. He had grown somewhat fond of the
man over the course of the last two months.
In all reality, Liron had to be grateful for the small
things. Even though it had come about by a set of circumstances he would have
preferred to avoid, Melody’s being stuck in her world had given him a reason to
visit Samantha, something he never would have done without prompting. Because
of this, he had been able to rekindle a friendship he’d thought long past its expiration
date.
And if he was going to be honest with himself, he had no idea
how he would have gotten through the past two months without Samantha and Ray’s
friendship. They had stepped up to alleviate the crushing weight of emptiness
that Melody’s absence had left, had kept him occupied and laughing, and had
helped him remain sane.
Liron glanced down at Samantha, who continued to fuss over
him, adjusting his clothing and whatnot. He then glanced over at Ray who, being
a lyrical muse, was submersed in a book of poetry. Seeing this, and knowing
that he would be granted a small moment of privacy, he grasped onto Samantha’s
hand and gave a little tug.
She looked up at him in question.
He knew he looked pained. He had to. Because he
felt
pained.
“Sam…what if this doesn’t work?”
Sympathy reflected in her eyes, and she pulled him over to
stand in front of his stained glass bedroom window so that they had a semblance
of their own space. “Liron, stop fretting. Of course it will work. She felt
enough of your soul to become so captivated with your music that she came
across the barrier between our worlds. That has never happened, at least not to
my knowledge. You think she has that kind of power, but does not possess the
talent to bring you into her world? Something that is readily more heard of
than the former?”
He shook his head. “It’s not her talent that I doubt.”
“Only her love.” Samantha fixed him with a chastising
expression.
He couldn’t even argue with her. It wasn’t so much her love
he doubted. It was just….
Samantha sighed and reached down to take his hands in hers.
“Liron, I know my sister did a number on you, and because of that I know some
part of you is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. You believe that
Melody is too good to be true, that sooner or later, it’s all going to end and
you’re going to be alone and heartbroken again.”
He averted his eyes, his heart aching dully in his chest at
that possibility, and at the truth of her words.
She shook her head and gave him a small smile. “You’ll never
get anywhere dwelling on things that have long since been and gone. Elizabeth
did what she did
ages ago.
Melody is not her. Melody loves you. This
will
work.”
Her conviction bolstered him, and he sucked in his breath,
squaring his shoulders in some kind of gesture of mock courage. He met
Samantha’s eyes. “If it does work….” At her stern expression, he cleared his
throat.
“When
this works, I’m going to need something to eventually
bring me back home. So, if you could do me a favor, and say, a couple hours or
so after I go through the portal, you and Ray do something to bring me back.
Scream, yell, dance a jig. I don’t know. Just, something that will get my
attention. Considering the way it used to work with Melody, and providing it
works the same on that end of things, the fact that you are in my home and
causing a ruckus should be enough to trigger the portal.”
She nodded. “All right. A couple hours, you say?”
“Somewhere around there. That should be more than enough time
in the human world to get everything settled.”
“Consider it done, Liron.”
His heart softened, and he filled with warmth and affection
for the woman in front of him. “Sam….” He sighed and shook his head, at a loss
for any adequate words. “Thank you so much for everything over these last
couple months. I….”
She shushed him softly and gave him a warm smile. “Liron, you
were my family once. I would like to think you still are. I only wish I’d
stopped being such a coward sooner.”
He smiled. “I was just as much of a coward. None of that
matters now. I’m grateful to have you and Ray in my life.”
A playful expression lit up her face. “And hopefully your
Melody is better at chess than you. I didn’t think anyone could be worse than
Ray ‘til you came along.”
Liron chuckled and felt momentarily better about everything
that was about to occur. Samantha had a way of taking all the dreariness out of
a situation, and he was grateful for that.
He had done everything he could on his end.
Now, all he had to do was wait.
And hope.
* * * *
Melody wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling as she stood in
the wings backstage, waiting for the concert to begin. The orchestra was
playing one piece—a Rachmaninoff—then they would perform hers before the twenty
minute intermission.
She wasn’t nervous about the piece. Not really. She had
rehearsed so many times with everyone that she could conduct it inside,
outside, backwards, on her head, and in her sleep. That wasn’t an issue.
She was so terrified that what she’d created would fall
short, that her music would fail to bring Liron to her. Everyone kept telling
her how wonderful it was, but she had a hard time comprehending that she could
create something remarkable enough to do Liron justice. And she knew that if
she failed, the last remaining piece of her heart would shatter into
irrevocable damage.
The last two months had been lonely without Liron, but she’d
had a lot to keep her busy. Rehearsals and loose ends that needed to be tied up
should everything go according to plan. Plus, she was at least able to speak
with him in her dreams, which was better than nothing, regardless of how
fleeting it was.
The orchestra was tuning up on stage as the audience filed
in, and the hum of it filled her with memories of long ago. Somehow, they
weren’t as horrendous as they had once been. She had been forced to confront so
much of her past during this process.
So much of what she had been running from she’d had to meet
head-on in order to get tasks accomplished integral to the running smoothly of
the concert. It had been painful, but also strangely therapeutic. While she
still felt the hole in her heart that her parents had once inhabited, it wasn’t
as all-consuming as it had once been. Now, it was only a dull ache. Present,
but not overwhelming. And it no longer centered itself around music. Fear of
playing, of embracing what her parents had loved so much, had finally faded.