Lost Melody (32 page)

She stared at the huge stack of
scrapbooks, all filled to capacity and bulging with newspaper
clippings, magazine articles, and photographs. Stunned, she said
the only thing that came to mind. “Thank you. I’ll take good care
of them and return them to you when I’m through.”

Her mom laid a hand on her arm.
“They’re yours. Keep them.”

Mel loaded the binders into the
backseat of her car. She pulled to the curb around the corner from
the house and sat until she was steady enough to continue back to
La Jolla.

Back at home, she sorted the
scrapbooks into chronological order. It would probably take a year
or more to read them all, she guessed. She changed her daily
routine to include an hour or more each evening to pour through the
books.

Her mother was thorough in
her obsession. Diane Harper had been infatuated with her late
husband many years before they met. Some of the clippings dated
back to when her mother was in high school, and Hamilton Ravenswood
had begun to make a name for himself in the world of Rock and Roll
music. She’d saved articles and photos from every kind of print
media. There were clippings from
Rolling
Stone, Tiger Beat, 16,
and even
Parade,
the magazine
insert in the Sunday newspaper. There were glossy, color magazine
photos, and grainy tabloid clippings. Melody was overwhelmed with
the sheer quantity as well as the fanaticism the collection
testified to.

In many of the early photos, her
father was in the company of one beautiful woman or another. She
recognized many of them as actresses and models popular a few
decades ago. Some still maintained a degree of success after all
the intervening years. As she read, she jotted down names in the
event she might want to interview some of them for the book she was
more determined than ever to write.

She studied the photos, seeing her
father as a young man just coming into his adult years, fresh out
of Cambridge, and thrust onto the world stage. She lined up a few
of the better ones in chronological order. It was easy to see the
maturing process he’d gone through. From the first, almost shy,
candid shots to the posed publicity shots, there was a natural
progression of confidence and arrogance as his talent matured along
with his celebrity. Undeniably handsome man, it was easy to see how
her mother had become infatuated with him early on. How she became
his wife was a mystery still to be solved.

One evening, she gathered several of
the paparazzi shots of her father with various models and actresses
and studied them closely. It took her some time to pinpoint what
bothered her about the photos. Then it became clear. In all of
them, Hamilton Ravenswood was not touching his partner. The women
hung off, or leaned against him. His hands would be in his pockets,
wrapped around a drink or anything but his date. The women gazed
adoringly up at him, but his eyes were always on something or
someone else. She scribbled down a few more names, certain she
would interview at least a few of them to learn if what she’d
noticed indeed had been going on at the time.

Hank’s biography neared completion,
and the holidays were fast approaching. Not a day passed she didn’t
think of him in a way that had nothing at all to do with her
writing. She ached to be with him, to hear the sound of his voice,
to touch him.

The day after Halloween, BlackWing
announced their new tour. It was to begin in New York’s Madison
Square Garden on Valentine’s Day. The six-month long tour would
stop in eighteen cities across the country, ending with Dallas in
August.

Guy Nichols was doing his job, and
doing it well. She couldn’t listen to a radio station, watch
television, or drive on the freeway without seeing or hearing an
advertisement promising tickets would go on sale January sixteenth.
She was tempted to call Guy and ask who had chosen the date, the
day after her twenty-seventh birthday, and seventeen years and one
day after her father’s death. She was afraid she knew the answer to
whom, and even more, the reason why.

She spent Thanksgiving with her
mother, their relationship more strained than it had ever been. Mel
dried the last pan her mother handed her and returned it to the
cabinet. She leaned against the counter, waiting for the next one.
“I’m going to New York next week. I’ve finished the book, and my
editor wants it before Christmas. She asked if I could come and
meet with her and some of the people I’ll be working
with.”

Diane continued to scour the pot
submerged in the soapy water. “Will you be coming back here? You
know I want you to be here for Christmas. I’ve invited Jonathan to
come, too.”

It was the first Melody had heard
about her mother’s plans, and she didn’t bother to hide her
surprise. “Did he accept?”

“Yes. He said he’d love to come. I
think he may be bringing someone with him. Who do you think it
is?”

“I have an idea, but it’s
probably not who
you
think it is. My guess is he’s bringing his new girlfriend,
Miriam Wallingford. You’ll like her, Mom. I think he’s fallen for
someone.”

“You don’t think he’ll bring Hank
Travis?”

“No, I don’t.”

“So, what’s Miriam like? Tell me
everything you know.” She handed the clean pot to Melody to dry.
“How did they meet?”

It was a safe subject, and she really
didn’t have much to tell. She had been so wrapped up in her own
troubled relationship over the summer she’d hardly noticed what her
Uncle Jonathan had been doing.

Chapter
Thirty

Hank returned to the farm and filled
his time helping with the cotton harvest. He welcomed the
dawn-to-drop work schedule that kept him too busy to think about
Melody more than a thousand times a day.

He let his hair grow. By February, he
would once again be the man his fans paid to see. In the past, the
ritual elicited excitement, but lately he could hardly stand the
sight of himself in the mirror.

After the harvest, he turned to his
music, sequestering himself in the barn for long hours composing
and practicing. Plans were under way for the new tour and details
requiring his attention poured in daily. Conference calls with the
other band members and hours of discussion, compromise and
negotiation added to his workload.

In addition, there was the mixing.
Since he lived closest to the mixing studio in Dallas, it fell on
his shoulders to monitor the progress of the CD. Highest priority
was given to mixing “Melody,” and he was relieved when he approved
the final product. Guy assured him the single would hit the airways
across the country on January fifteenth—Melody’s
birthday.

As the days flew by, each one bringing
him closer to the release date, he questioned his decision over and
over again.

He spent Thanksgiving with his father
and Sir Jonathan, who still resided in Melody’s house. They were
four at the table. Jonathan brought along Miriam Wallingford, who
Hank suspected was the real reason he remained in
Willowbrook.

“What are you going to do for
Christmas?” Sir Jonathan asked Henry.

“For the last few years we’ve gone
skiing in Colorado. Are we going again this year, son?”

“I bought our tickets, and I reserved
the same condo we had last year. I thought it worked out pretty
well. You could ski right up to the chair lift from the front
door.”

“Why don’t you two come along,” Henry
asked the other couple. “There’s plenty of room.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Thanks for
the invitation, but Miriam and I are going to San Diego. Diane
asked us to come, and I told her we would.”

“Is Melody there?” Hank
asked.

“I don’t know. Diane didn’t say, and
Melody hasn’t called me in months.”

Hank nodded. “I haven’t heard from her
either. You’ll let me know how she’s doing if you see
her?”

“Sure. She’ll be in touch soon,” he
assured.

“Thanks.” He hoped Jonathan was right.
Every day Melody didn’t call or even email, he felt her slipping
further away from him.

* * *

Sir Jonathan answered the doorbell.
“Hank. It’s great to see you.” He held the screened door open.
“Come in.”

He stepped into Melody’s living room.
“Thanks. I should have called first,” he apologized.

Jonathan waved him to a chair. “No
need. I was just sitting here wondering what to do next. So…what
brings you my way today?”

“I was hoping you could deliver
something to Melody for me.” He pulled a small box wrapped clumsily
in red Christmas paper from his coat pocket. “If she’s at her
mother’s, will you give her something for me?” He passed the gift
to Jonathan.

Jonathan weighed it in the palm of his
hand. One eyebrow rose, questioning. “Is there something in
here?”

He smiled. “Yeah. I’d rather not say
what it is, but you won’t get arrested at the airport for carrying
it.”

“Well, that’s good.” Jonathan laughed.
“I’ll give it to her.” He turned serious. “How are you
doing?”

“I’m okay, I guess. Could be better.”
He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. “Can I ask
you something?”

“Anything.”

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to
answer.”

Jonathan nodded. “Okay, ask
away.”

“How did you feel when you retired?
What was it like to walk away from the business like you
did?”

Jonathan set the present for Melody on
the table. “Are you thinking about retiring?”

Hank sat back in his chair. “Yeah.
I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just don’t know if I can
do it. What was it like?”

“You have to understand, I didn’t walk
away by choice. When Milton died, a part of me died, too. We’d been
as close as brothers, and his death hit me hard. It hit us all,
knocked the wind right out of us. So we walked away. You’re talking
about walking away in the prime of your career. Do you think Melody
will come running if you quit? And if she does, will you be able to
live with yourself and your choice?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I
would do anything to have her in my life, and then I try to imagine
what I would do with myself if I quit, and I can’t see it. The
thing is, I don’t know if I can continue performing without her.
But on the other hand, I may never have her if I don’t walk away
from it.”

“I can’t tell you what to do. You
remind me of Milton when he was your age. You have a talent as big,
maybe bigger than his. His life was cut short by circumstances
beyond his control. But I can tell you this, he had to make a
similar choice once, and it nearly ended his career. I watched him
struggle with his decision for months, and from his struggle came
the best piece of music he ever wrote. Eventually, he came to
accept that he’d made the only decision he could, and he lived with
the consequences every day after that.”

Hank nodded in understanding. “Thanks.
I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I appreciate you
telling me the story. I don’t know about the talent thing, but I’m
not stupid enough to argue with Sir Jonathan Youngblood. So, I’ll
just say thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“You’re welcome. For what it’s worth,
I think she’ll come around. She loves you. No doubt about it.” He
paused. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“She didn’t approve that version of
‘Melody,’ did she?”

“No.”

“Has she heard it?”

“I played it for her once. I promised
her no one would ever hear it.”

“You’re taking a big risk,
son.”

“I know, but it was the only thing I
could think of to make her see what she means to me.”

Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know
if you’ve made a wise decision with the song, but it’s a bloody
masterpiece, in my opinion. If she sues you over it, I’ll be happy
to testify in your defense.”

“There you go again with the flattery,
and I may be calling on you to testify, so don’t be
surprised.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, and I
would be surprised if she sues you. She may never speak to you
again, but I doubt she’ll take legal action.”

Hank stood and zipped his coat. “I’d
rather she sue me than quit speaking to me. At least if she takes
me to court, I’ll get to see her. It could take years to sort it
out in the court system.”

Jonathan stood, too. “You could
probably drag it through the system in two countries if you put
your mind to it. It could go on for a lifetime.”

Hank smiled. “Good to know. I’ll hang
onto that happy thought. Thanks again.”

Chapter
Thirty-one

Melody took care of her business in
New York then spent a few extra days shopping and enjoying the
holiday decorations. She stood in line to glimpse the elaborate
window displays at Saks and Macy’s. She bought gifts for her
friends in Willowbrook and arranged to have them wrapped and
shipped. For her mother, she purchased a beautiful jewelry box and
a pair of diamond earrings to place inside as an extra
surprise.