Aileen's Song (12 page)

 



 

Close to the midpoint of the show, the magic Aileen sensed only intensified. A violin solo of “El Shaddai” poured through the theater. From stage left, she watched Siobhan launch into a faultless grand
jeté
, landing sure and sound. Next, their dancer performed sets of
fouetté en tourant
that carried her across the stage in fluid spins that caused Aileen's spirit to soar in time to the music.

Aileen expelled a nervous breath through pursed lips. Her hands trembled. She stilled the nervous tremor by clenching her hands into fists while simultaneously relaxing the rest of her body and breathing deep.

Should she even attempt the risk that was about to take place?

Siobhan concluded her performance, sweeping into a deep bow as applause filled the air. Praying fast and hard, Aileen claimed a handheld mic from a member of the sound crew. On cue, she moved from the wings, sharing an on-stage smile and hand squeeze with her friend as Siobhan left the stage.

“Good evening once again, everyone.” Applause rang out as Aileen claimed center stage. Staring into the lights, into a sea of faces that were obscured from clear view, she attempted to still a racing heart. Her breathing was impacted by nervousness, and the knowledge of what she was about to do. Still, she remained poised, faultless and warm. “I hope you're having as good a time as we are. It's such a pleasure to perform for you here tonight.” More applause followed, along with a brief set of cheers that buoyed her spirit. She glanced to the wings. Hidden from stage view, Maeve and Kassidy sat on stools, side by side, resting before the next number. Siobhan stood behind them, ready to return to the stretching exercises that would keep her muscles warm between songs. Presently Siobhan rested a chin on Kassidy's shoulder, her eyes focused and intent.

Only Siobhan knew what was to come.

Aileen forced herself toward a point of calm. “Sharing songs and dance is such a blessing. Thank you for the joy you've given us.” She held the microphone in both hands, not wanting to betray her nerves. “To that end, I hope you won't mind if we divert for a bit. I'd like to perform for you a song I wrote myself…a song that comes straight from the depths of my heart.” Approving murmurs and subtle applause followed. “It's meant to be an ode to those who touch our lives and hearts to a deep—very lasting degree.” Overcome, she had to pause, because her voice had wavered, and her throat was tight. Aileen's vision blurred when tears built, but she blinked away the moisture. “Wow. What a mess I'm in.” She perched a fist on her hip and gave the crowd a playful look. “I'm emotional already, and I haven't even sung a note.”

She made show of fanning her face for an instant. The audience laughed, and gave her an “Awwww” while they tittered with encouragement. That's when a mysterious energy filled Aileen's spirit and poured through her body. In an instant, sparking nerves were soothed, and God's grace provided enough calm for her to go still and begin.

“The name of this song is ‘The Story of Us,' and I hope you enjoy it.”

The haunting lilt of a piano filled the air, followed by a harmonious blend of soft, romantic bass. From there, words flowed, her soprano voice soaring into a melody that lifted her away from everything, and everyone…

Except Liam…and her heart.

God has delivered a tapestry,

A vivid history that threads you to me.

Time waltzes by and the winds of change blow,

But memories grow brighter the longer we go.

 

So, let's never end of the story of us,

‘Cause I have been blessed by the story of us.

God has worked grace in the story of us,

I have found love in the story of us.

 

From his position, front row center, Liam watched, and she could easily tell he made the connection. His words from the coffee shop along with the words from her journal blended to life in an outpouring of love now given a proper memoriam—

No matter what came next, her emotions broke free.

 



 

At intermission, Liam stepped straight into her path. “That was an amazing though unexpected detour from the playlist.”

Aileen fought fruitlessly to pass. “The crew knew all about it so we were fine. Now, go away. I have to focus.”

“Fine. Until later.” When she didn't answer, Liam took hold of her arm so she'd turn and face him. “Later, OK?”

A wave of panic hit Aileen hard. Oh, boy. She had stepped into it now, but good. “Liam, my head is spinning in a million different directions. I'm dizzy and…and…I'm functioning outside of myself right now. Don't push me. Please? I can't take it. Not during an all-too-brief intermission.”

She swept free of his penetrating stare, lifting the hem of her gown just high enough that she could move away on fast feet. This time, mercy from heaven, he allowed her to escape.

Forty-five minutes later, the show moved to a rousing conclusion, and after the girls took their final curtain call, Aileen made her way to the wardrobe and makeup area where she could close herself off from the bustle and chaos of converging staff members and well-wishers.

At that point, Liam materialized, stepping into her path with smooth precision. He took hold of her shoulder and moved away from the stream of foot traffic, rolling dollies, portable wardrobe hangers, and trunk carriers all set to be packed away. She rested against the cool brick wall; the intensity of his eyes left her to tremble.

And she knew this time Liam Douglas would not be denied.

“Talk to me. About that song.”

She shook her head. “Not the time or the place.”

“Fine. I'll take you home once you're finished here. We'll work out the logistics of picking up your car with one of the girls. We're going to talk, Ailee.” He stroked her cheeks and her lashes fluttered closed in automatic response to the stimuli of his gentle, reverent touch.

“Liam,” she whispered, “my head is doing that weird dizzy, fuzzy thing again. Please let me go. I have to get to the afterglow.”

“Actually, that's the other thing.”

The other thing? Her eyes opened, and love lit a match when she came upon eyes of deepest green, a green that had always made her think of what the grassy hills of Ireland looked like after a soft summer rain. She swallowed against that tempting thought and tried again to focus. No dice. He was so close she felt the warmth of his body, caught traces of his sandalwood scent. Her head swirled all over again.

“What's going on?” She finally found her voice. “Is no one there for the meet-and-greet? Oh, no. Just what I don't need. We spent a fortune on catering.” She huffed out a dejected sigh and turned, preparing to face her fate. “Ah, well. I hope the crew is hungry.”

Liam shook his head and sighed. “Come with me.”

His hand was a warm guide against her waist which was still cinched into the silk and crystal of her midnight blue gown. Liam led her down a wide hallway to a double door entrance of the reception room at Westerville Theater. Presently the doors were closed, but a fair amount of noise filtered into the air. Maybe the news wasn't all bad. That, or the crew had already converged on a quest for food.

Aileen looked at him, brows furrowed. “What's going on?”

“A meet and greet. The girls are already inside, but everyone's waiting for you.”

“Huh?” Not an eloquent response, but it was the best she could do all muddled up emotions considered.

“Welcome to your future.” Gaze steady and strong, he whispered the words. Next, he pushed the door open, and Aileen was struck by a roll of noise, a gathering of people, an excited vibration of happiness that left her to gasp.

“What in the world…?”

Aileen's words drifted to silence. Before those gathered caught sight of her arrival, Liam bent close. “I don't think you have to worry about wasted food.”

Desperate for purchase, too stunned to be shy, she wove her fingers quick and tight through his. Casting him a startled glance, she whispered, “Don't leave me, OK? Please stay close. This is...this is...”

She was overwhelmed, and as always, Liam seemed to understand what she couldn't find the words to express. Such was the beauty of their relationship, and the history they shared—just like the words of her song.

“This is a taste of what's to come.” His eyes were unspeakably tender. “Soak it in. You've earned it, Ailee. All of you have. It's truly a gift of grace.” With a nod, he directed her gaze forward, to the sea of people waiting to greet her. Using a gentle push, he encouraged her to cross the threshold. “Go on. You're ready.”

Her lips trembled for an instant before she nodded and breathed. Sequin-light shimmered and sparkled against her gown. Liam released his hold, but not before kissing the back of her hand, stirring a delicious pop of gooseflesh against her skin.

Immediately after that, people registered her arrival. The crowd surged, carrying Aileen toward something only God Himself could have ordained.

 

 

 

 

12

 

There were no more questions in Liam's mind about what needed to come next.

Reconciled to the dictates of his heart, he put plans into place—plans that would be easy to execute and fulfilling…for a lifetime.

He didn't cue Aileen in on what he intended. Not yet, anyway. She had sprung her surprise. It was his turn to reciprocate.

During the course of the reception, he hung out with executives from Zion's Peak, trying to figure out if a verdict had been reached on the potential for a recording contract. His label's hierarchy were pleased—preliminary CD's had flown off the shelves—but not surprisingly they refrained from an outright endorsement. They'd meet, they'd hammer out details, but how could Zion pass on this amazing group? They had carried an entire show, and as he had imagined from the start, these ladies and their music struck a chord with people.

Leaving the rest to God, Liam watched Aileen. She moved through the room in tandem with her three best friends, enthused and charming. She welcomed every person she met with a loving and sincere élan that left him captivated. His favorite moment played out near the end of the event, at a table where Aileen sat with Siobhan, Kassidy, and Maeve. They signed autographs on beautifully produced, glossy flats that promoted the evening's concert. They posed for pictures and chatted with invitees. That's when a quartet of high school aged girls moved shyly forward, tittering quietly as they approached the group

“Aileen? We...we want you to know we think Sisters in Spirit is just amazing.” The leader of the quartet spoke, an awestruck expression cresting a rounded, peaches-and-cream face. “We also wanted to tell you hello from Mrs. Szeliga. Actually, it's because of her that we're here. She awarded us the tickets and backstage pass after we won a performance in the Westerville High School talent show.”

“Oh, congratulations! That's wonderful.” Aileen's smile was pure radiance.

“Yeah.” The teen ducked her head shyly. “Well, tonight you inspired us to keep at it. We've been in choir together for years and years. People tell us we're good, but…we just want to have fun, and enjoy the music, you know what I mean?”

“I certainly do.”

By now, all four women had paused and were focused on the conversation.

Aileen blinked rapidly, likely to push back tears. “What's your name?”

“Angela.” The ice broke and excited introductions took place.

After a bit of encouraging conversation and a round of autographs, Aileen exchanged glances with her friends and without a word being spoken, the foursome stood as one and Aileen promptly took the leader of the group by the hand, urging the youngsters behind the table for a less rushed, more formal photograph.

In the end, those four young girls didn't just walk away from the meeting; they floated—visibly affirmed in their dreams and a wonderful replica of what Sisters in Spirit had been so long ago.

And Liam fell in love with Aileen all over again.

 



 

Impatience gnawed at Liam. Just over an hour later, Aileen finally emerged from wardrobe, ready to leave the theater. The vision of her struck Liam directly in the heart. Seldom in life had he been given such a powerful crystallization of head, heart, and spirit, because he always played his emotions close to the core.

Well not anymore. Not with Aileen. This woman was his other half, a piece of his soul. He watched her approach and saw clearly what he wanted—and needed—for the rest of his life.

Liam couldn't wait to begin the journey.

Dressed in black leather boots, she sported a loose and flaring dress of pink topped by a cardigan. A yellow scarf was looped loosely around her neck, and she left her hair free. Soft waves fell to her waist, framing her face and shoulders like the temptation of shimmering silk.

For sure, he was under her spell.

Liam swung his car keys in a loose grip, offering her his free hand. Once Aileen took hold, he led her outside into a soft, chilly rain that tried desperately to transform into snow…so he tugged her close by wrapping an arm against her waist.

“Where are we going?” She cast him a shy, beguiling glance.

“I want to take you to my place.”

She pursed her lips, studied him hard. All he said in response to that reaction was: “Trust me, Ailee. This is about us. This is about talking—and resolution. It's time, don't you think?”

Blue eyes went wide. Her lower lip disappeared beneath the press of her teeth—but she nodded and followed him wordlessly to his vehicle.

 

 

 

 

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