Lost Melody (39 page)

“I’m listening.”

“We were in Denver for a week. We came
in on buses all the way from Atlanta, and we were sick of being on
the road. None of us wanted to spend another day winding through
the Rocky Mountains, so we chartered a plane to fly us to Los
Angeles. It was a way to buy ourselves an extra day or two in the
sun. It sounded like heaven at the time.

“Anyway, the plane was fueled and the
pilot was waiting for us at a small airport outside of Denver.
Milton decided he wanted to make it to your party, which would mean
leaving right after the concert. The rest of us wanted to wait
until the next day. Someone said something about wanting to see the
snow covered mountains in daylight. We told Milton to go ahead. The
pilot could fly him to San Diego and come back to pick us up the
next day.

“The airport wasn’t convenient for the
ski areas, so it didn’t have much traffic, especially that time of
year. Our plane was the only one scheduled to fly out the next
morning, and it was the only one to fuel up and leave that
evening.” He squeezed her hand, and she looked into his eyes. They
glistened with unshed tears.

“If Milton hadn’t left when he did we
all would have been on the plane with him the next morning. We all
would have died on that mountainside.” Tears flowed freely down his
cheeks. “When the plane went down, an investigation was launched,
and of course, we stayed in Denver for several days. When we did
leave, we flew out of Denver International. The investigation
turned up the fuel problem. We had all had a close call, and it was
Milton who paid the price for our lives.”

Tears clogged her throat and filled
her eyes.

Oh God.

Silence cloaked the back seat of the
limo like a funeral pall. Jonathan spoke. “Now you know why I quit
the business. The guilt was eating me up inside. We all should have
been on the plane with him. We shouldn’t have let him go
alone.”

Melody let the tears flow unchecked.
They were for her father, for Jonathan, for all the band members
who must have felt the same way.

“You see, luv, it doesn’t matter when
the plane left, he would have been on it either way. There were no
other planes leaving, so no one could have known about the fuel
problem until our plane took off. I’m sorry, luv. I keep thinking
if we had all gone with him maybe something would have been
different. Or if we had used the main airport. Made different
choices. I don’t know.”

She wiped her cheeks with the palm of
her hand, relieved in a way she couldn’t understand, yet saddened
Jonathan had suffered with such a burden for so long. “You made the
decisions you thought were right at the time. You couldn’t have
known what would happen.”

“My brain comprehends, but it took my
heart a lot longer to come to the same conclusion.”

She hugged him. “Thanks for telling
me. I love you, you know. I’m glad you weren’t on the plane with
Daddy. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost both of
you.”

His lips curved at the corners. “I
love you, too. I always have. I felt I owed it to Milton to take
care of you after he died. He saved my life that night and taking
care of you was the least I could do to repay him.”

“I lost my Daddy and you lost your
best friend. I guess we’ve been taking care of each other for a
long time, haven’t we?” She smiled at him in the growing
darkness.

The limo pulled into the Garden and
stopped behind the tour bus. Hank leaned against it in what
appeared to be a leisurely manner. She knew differently. None of
them moved for a long time.

“I just have one more question,” she
said.

“Ask me anything.”

She swallowed hard. “Whose idea was it
to charter the plane, and when did you decide to do it?”

“That's two questions.” He smiled at
her. “As I recall, it was Milton's idea, but we all
agreed.”

“When? When did he come up with the
idea?”

“Well….” He closed his eyes for a
second. “Our original plan, when we were on the bus to Denver, was
to fly commercial out of Denver International, but we changed to
the charter service after we got to Denver. Milton came up with the
idea. He said it would get us to the beach faster. You have to
remember, it was a long time ago, and there weren't as many flights
out of Denver as there are these days.”

“Was that the only reason he
gave?”

“It's the only one I remember,
why?”

“Nothing. It's nothing, just something
I was wondering about.” She glanced out the window again. With her
eyes locked on Hank, she said, “You should go, Uncle Jonathan. I’m
sorry I had to kidnap you.” She gave his hand a squeeze in silent
communication of the bond they shared and turned to him. “I’ll be
okay. Go on. Get ready to wow them again tonight.”

He moved to the door, hesitating
before he opened it. “He’s a good man, Melody. I don't know where
you're going with this digging up of the past, but don’t make him
wait too long.”

He stepped out of the car, and when he
came abreast of Hank, he placed a hand on his shoulder. She could
tell he was saying something to Hank by the expression on the
younger man’s face, but she couldn’t imagine what it could be. He
moved on, and Hank continued to lean against the bus, his arms
folded across his chest, legs crossed at the ankles.

Cold February chill poured through the
open limo door. She shivered, whether from the cold air or the
expression on Hank’s face she didn’t know. He pushed away from the
bus, and her pulse faltered.

She wasn’t ready to face him, but it
appeared she had little choice. It was too late to run.

He ducked inside and pulled the door
closed. He sat across from her and, without taking his eyes from
her, pushed the intercom button, and gave his instructions to the
driver. A moment later, she was alone with Hank.

She waited, breathless for him to
speak.

“Jonathan says I should let you go
back to London. Is that what you want?”

Was it? She didn’t know anymore. She
needed time to think about what Jonathan had just told her. Like
Alice, nothing was as it seemed. Should she confront her mother or
search for another explanation? Her suspicions were too much to
wrap her head around knowing Hank was growing impatient with
her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She
took a deep breath and let it out. “I know all I do is ask you for
more time, but please be patient with me a little longer. I love
you. You can’t think otherwise.”

A tiny flicker of emotion crossed his
face, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“Time.” A muscle twitched in his jaw.
“How much more time, Melody? Are we going to spend the rest of our
lives stealing a few minutes together in the back of a limousine or
a hotel room? I want more. I want it all.”

“I do, too.”

“Do you?” Skepticism colored his
words. “We’ll be in Boston for a week. After that, we go to
Philadelphia. I’ll give you until we leave Philly to make up your
mind. If you can’t make a commitment to us by then….”

His words knifed into her heart. He
reached for the door handle, and she put her hand on his arm,
stopping him.

“What about the gold key?” She pressed
her other hand against her chest where the precious metal was
cradled against her heart—a promise she clung to. “You said I could
use it anytime. You said you would be waiting for me. Was that a
lie?”

His voice was cold as the raw New York
winter. “Not at the time. I thought once I couldn’t go on living
without you in my life. I was wrong. It will be hell, but I can do
it. It can’t be any worse than the living hell I’m in now, waiting
for you to decide how much you love me. Two weeks, Melody. We’ll be
leaving Philly in two weeks.” He opened the door and slid out. The
soft thud of the closing door reverberated through her body and
sucked the air from the car.

She gasped for breath and fisted her
hands over her stomach.

Two weeks.

Two weeks or she would lose him for
good.

I won’t lose him. I
can’t.

Chapter
Thirty-nine

.

Hank had given her no choice. She
couldn’t put off the confrontation with her mother any longer.
Melody screwed up her courage and headed west.

It was early when she landed at the
small airport near her mother’s home in Encinitas. A rental car
awaited her at the general aviation center, and within minutes of
landing, she was on her way.

She hardly noticed the beautiful
spring-like day, the blooming flowers, and green lawns, so
different from the barren winter landscape she had left behind in
New York. She focused on the conversation ahead. So much depended
on what she found out today.

She hoped it would be the final piece
that, once in place, would allow her to see the entire picture
clearly. Only then would she be able to go to Hank free of the
guilt she had carried most of her life.

Her mother was surprised to see her
but invited Melody in with a hug, fussing over her the way she used
to do when Mel had come home on college breaks. She allowed her the
indulgence, dreading the confrontation now that she was
face-to-face with her mother.

“What brings you all the way from New
York? I can’t believe you came all the way here just to have tea
with me.”

She squared her
shoulders.
Get it over with. You already
know the answer. Let her try and deny it. Justify what she
did.
“You knew there was water in the jet
fuel, didn’t you?”

Her mother flinched. “Yes, I knew. It
doesn’t matter what happened. The result is the same. Your father
died when that plane crashed.”

She stared across the table
at her mother.
No denial. No
apology.
Her stomach cramped. “It matters
to me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, I didn’t think it
mattered why the plane crashed. It did, and that was the important
part.”

Her blood ran cold. “You
don’t think it mattered that because he died, three other people
lived? You didn’t think it would matter to
me
? He was coming to
my
birthday party.” She
stabbed a finger at her own chest. “Do you have any idea how much
guilt I’ve carried around all these years?” She shook her head.
“Now I find out he would have died the next day anyway? And the
rest of the band would have died with him? I don’t understand how
you can say it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t change anything. He’s
dead, Melody. What does it matter which day he died?”

Who are you?
She couldn’t believe her mother’s callousness. “It
doesn’t mean anything to you that Uncle Jonathan, Archer and Nathan
are alive because Daddy left a day early? I’ve lived with the guilt
all these years for nothing. His death saved their lives, Mother.”
She choked back tears of rage. “I’m sorry he died. Of course I am.
But don’t you see? He was going to die anyway. The plane would have
gone down the next day with all of them on it.”

She stood and paced across the small
kitchen. It was all crystal clear.

“He loved you, Melody, and it killed
him. That’s what I see.”

There it was—the unspoken blame she
had sensed her entire life. Disgust roiled in her gut.

“Oh really, mother?” She
crossed back to her bag and pulled out a file folder. She sifted
through the news articles her mother had so carefully archived and
pulled out a yellowed envelope. “Tell me,
Mother
. Whose fault is it Daddy was
on that plane?”

She slid the envelope across the bar.
Her mother paled.

“What are you saying?”

“Don't you remember, Mom?”

Her mother shook her head, refusing to
meet Melody's gaze.

She snatched the envelope back, opened
it, and slid the contents across the counter.

“It's a plane ticket to Denver. With
my name on it.” She held the envelope up. “Daddy sent it. There's a
note inside. Do you need me to read it to you, too?”

Her mother turned her face
away.

“Daddy sent me a plane ticket for my
birthday. He wanted me to come to the concert where he was going to
record my song. What did you do, Mother? Did you tell him I
couldn't come? Is that why he was on that plane, because you
refused to let me go to the concert?”

“You were only ten….”

She froze.

“I told him you had no business at a
rock concert. It wasn't the kind of place a ten-year-old girl
should be.”

She thought she might be sick. She’d
thought she had known the truth, but this…. Her mother became
someone else right before her eyes—a pathetic creature she couldn’t
fathom.

“He said he'd come to see you instead.
He said he had a special present for you. I knew he would come if I
didn't let you go to the concert.”