Love Notes

by Savannah Kade

  Her father nodded at her, understanding. He always seemed to understand. This time something more showed on his face, some small passing of pride in her decision. As she drove off she got the distinct impression that her father had known all along what she was only just now figuring out: in telling him she had betrayed TJ.

  She snorted to herself as she pulled up to a red light. It would just figure that she finally understood what she had done to TJ when he had removed himself from the picture.

  Chapter 35

  TJ sighed and climbed in behind the wheel of the new Mercedes for the first time. He’d spent yesterday in a haze. He hadn’t even had time to eat. He was too busy waffling between calling Norah to yell at her, smashing every piece of china in the house, or just attempting to forget all of it.

  He’d laid on his bed, unable to make a decision, until finally sleep had taken over, keeping him from breaking anything.

  At least he’d been able to make a decision this morning. He had a rehearsal to get to, and no ride but his sweet new car sitting in the driveway. He sat behind the console, certain that some of the shine had already rubbed off and knowing that feeling had nothing to do with the car.

  He had three hours to get to the studio. So he thought he’d see if he could make it to the end of the driveway, and if that worked, then he’d go around the neighborhood. TJ promised himself that if he felt shaky or accident prone at any time, he’d pull over and call JD.

  His fingers caressed the steering wheel, enjoying the feel of smooth leather and independence. Doing things one step at a time, he made sure he was as safe as possible, and that his brain was always engaged in the task at hand. That way it couldn’t slip back to more unpleasant thoughts as it was prone to.

  TJ started the engine, listening to the low purr of a well-made car. He pushed against each of the pedals, testing their resistance and his strength. Slowly he put the car into gear and let the engine go. As the car rolled down the long drive at idling speed, he wrapped his right hand nervously around the emergency brake.

  But he didn’t need it. His feet worked, pressing the pedals, feeling them solid and under his control. It was a good thing, too, because no one was scheduled to come get him.

  Someone should have been here watching him. Not that there was any way to really kill himself in his own driveway, but if he conked his head he might sit there for a while before he could do anything. However, JD was busy and TJ was not calling Norah.

  He reached up to click the remote to the gate, thinking he’d be out of the handi-house soon, leaving it available to the next person who needed it. In one week, if today’s driving went well. He had no idea if one week was sufficient to allow for a relapse, but he really no longer cared. This place didn’t feel like it was his any longer, and he squashed worries that his other house wouldn’t feel like it was his either.

  Taking a turn, TJ just drove. He kept the radio off, unable to listen to it without analyzing where the current sound was headed and how to keep Wilder out of the pack. None of that was good while he was driving for the first time in months and wondering if he might lose control of his legs when they were most necessary.

  He kept going, aimlessly, until he spotted a deserted lot in front of a closed grocery store. Turning in, he did large donuts looking out for potholes amid the weeds. When he was relatively certain that he wouldn’t damage the car, he drove to one end of the lot and aimed at the far corner.

  TJ floored it, picking up speed and letting go of some aggressions. About half way across he let up on the gas and laid on the brake--hard. There was an immediate noise: the sound of the anti-lock brakes grabbing and releasing in rapid succession. His legs were braced straight in front of him as he practically stood up in the seat. The Mercedes rolled to a soft stop and slowly TJ let off the pedal.

  His heart was going a little fast for a set-up situation like that. Yet he turned the car and pulled into another corner, racing up to speed and standing on the brakes again. And again.

  After about five times, he figured he’d hold up all right. Only as he was about to leave the lot did he realize he had to turn back around and try something else. This time when he hit speed he didn’t use his legs at all but relied on the emergency brake and his arms to control the car. It didn’t work as well, but would do in a pinch.

  This time he turned around and headed back to the house. He arrived without incident, seeing several cars on the road heading out the other way. Only when he was passed the second time did he realize that he was going far slower than usual. He laughed out loud at himself and fought the urge to yell out at the other driver, you wouldn’t be so impatient if you’d just spent the past four months learning to walk again. But he didn’t.

  He hadn’t listened before his accident. In fact, JD had told him pretty much just that. Practically everyone who cared about him had.

  It felt good to pocket the keys and close the driver’s door behind him as he headed up the front ramp. Next week there would be stairs. He’d handle it. It would make him stronger.

  He had an hour to kill before he needed to leave for the studio, and he spent it on the phone with first Tim, then the gift coordinator at the rehab center. The woman even asked if she could send a truck out that afternoon, there was a teenaged girl who had a C-6 accident just three weeks before. Her spinal cord had been severed and she had no hope of recovering the use of her limbs like he had. Her family couldn’t afford any motorized chair, let alone the souped-up one sitting useless in his dining room.

  TJ agreed to be back by four to meet the truck. Then gave all his contact information, before asking that the center get in touch with him when the girl required another chair or this one needed repairs. He asked that the family not be told it was from him in the future.

  He hung up and had himself a brief moment of hating Norah. Pushing it aside, he made himself a stacked ham and cheese sandwich and ate the whole thing before leaving the house. Previously, he would have simply eaten it while driving, but then again, previously he had been driving under the influence and getting smacked around by semis because he hadn’t had the sense to get out of the way.

  When he parked curbside at the studio, he was hitting the door lock when JD pulled up.

  “TJ!”

  He nodded, but his brother wasn’t finished with him. JD took a few moments to get out of the car, reaching into the backseat to pull out his beloved guitar and sling it across his back. “Where’s your driver?”

  TJ gave a grim smile. “She’s history.”

  “Oh.” JD’s eyebrows went up, but he knew enough not to ask while they were on the sidewalk or in the hallway, so instead he settled for the more innocuous, “Nice Mercedes.”

  TJ nodded, “Rides smooth, handles better.”

  There were other people in the elevator, a few of whom said short hellos before getting off on various floors. The brothers exited to a deserted hallway and quiet, but that didn’t mean anything so they stayed silent. The doors led to studios with various names in lettering across the tops. Wilder was one of HeartBeats’ first acquisitions back when they were getting started. While the label wasn’t a powerhouse, they were certainly eating their share of the market, having expanded every year. Now, you just never knew who would open one of the soundproof doors and pop their head out.

  When JD clicked their own door behind them, he simply rested the guitar on the ground by his foot, balancing it with a loose grip around the neck of the case, while he stared TJ down. He didn’t need to ask, TJ knew what his brother wanted.

  “She isn’t pregnant.”

  “You already knew that.” JD pointed out.

  “Funny, that’s exactly what I told her.” He turned away, settling himself at the piano, figuring he’d bang out some aggressions on the keys once he’d brought JD up to speed. “Turns out she barfed up the pill before it could take effect. Then didn’t tell me. Seems she didn’t want me in the way.”

  “Ouch.” JD picked up the guitar and started li
berating it from the case. He was seated and getting ready to make some sound come out of it when TJ spoke again.

  “But she told her Dad the whole thing.”

  “What?” JD nearly dropped the guitar.

  “Yeah, I had much that same reaction.” He held up his scraped palms, where streaks of small scabs showed. “My knees look about the same.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Yeah, you can stop saying that now.” He turned to the piano and began to play. He didn’t know what it was until he recognized the strains of the piece he had composed the last time Norah was up here listening to him. In a short burst of anger, he stopped, banging out a few bad chords for emphasis.

  “All right,” Pain was evident in JD’s voice. “That was really good until that last part with the chords in F’d-up major. You write that?”

  TJ nodded.

  “You want to play it for me in the right key?”

  With a shrug, TJ rolled into the song, still not sure if that was the right opening chord. With no warm ups he headed into the vocals while his brother sat quietly.

  JD looked like he was listening intently, but JD was a master. TJ was certain he was considering alternate keys and rises and falls. Chances were he was already composing a guitar line to lay into the back.

  TJ didn’t do the final round of the chorus, liking it better lacking finality. He altered the ending notes higher and left the last chord off entirely, leaving the piece hanging in the air. He knew it was just due to his mood today, but he thought it sounded better.

  JD was nodding. “Do you want to add violin?”

  “Are you serious?” His brother looked serious, but the song had sounded so maudlin to his own ears today that JD was probably just asking to be facetious.

  “Yes.” He was already getting his out of the case and popping the violin up under his chin. Once he was tuned up, he suggested they record it for later.

  “Sorry I took away your practice time. I just wanted to be early because of the driving.”

  JD laughed at him. “Shut-up, this is exactly what I came early for. You know, you’re getting really good with that piano. Way better than me.”

  TJ felt the jerk from that response as though his brother had physically clapped him on the back, and he was too stunned to say anything.

  His world lost its footing and started to topple. Again. He couldn’t take any more of this. JD was musically better than any of them. Simply because that’s the way the world was. TJ had longed for a chance to be best all his life, but here was his brother, handing it to him, and he couldn’t accept it. The sun comes up in the east. Two plus two makes four. JD is musically superior. Just the way things are.

  Then he found his voice. “That’s not true. You’re the musical genius. I’m the front man. You’re always better than me at every instrument.”

  Yet his brother was looking at him like he’d lost his mind. “Do you really believe that?”

  TJ nodded, never more certain of anything in his life.

  JD was leaning in, and TJ wouldn’t have been surprised if his brother’s hand had come out and felt his forehead for fever. “Is that why you haven’t really composed anything before this?”

  TJ shrugged. He’d thought the ‘trite and stupid life’ was a good enough excuse for not composing, but to be honest he’d never really thought beyond the boundaries of his older brother being a god.

  JD started speaking in a disbelieving tone, “I was always better because I was two years ahead of you. You always got in one year what it usually took me two or three.”

  “This isn’t up to par with what you write.”

  JD snorted. “Yeah, because I started writing fifteen years ago. And it damn sure wasn’t as good as that.”

  He couldn’t fight the laugh. “This isn’t my first either. I’ve been writing for a few years now. But it’s all been complete trash—rehashed melodies, trite lyrics, no real feeling to any of it.”

  “Well, that makes me feel better.” JD went back to tuning the violin. “Start recording so we can get this down before Alex or Craig opens the door.”

  God forbid there be a door opening on a first run recording. It reassured him that his brother was still as uptight as always. At least some of the natural order of the universe remained.

  They laid down track with JD adding in violin to most of the song. It was still ten minutes before they were supposed to meet when TJ turned the recording off.

  JD set the violin down. “Needs work, but we’ll get an opinion in a little bit. You know, I’ve been wanting to do a two piano piece with guitar and drums.”

  TJ nodded. “I want a harpsichord. Those things sound freaking cool and no one has used them since like the fifteen hundreds.”

  JD thought that one through. “I’m sure you’ll make it work.”

  Alex arrived first and spoke only a little before sitting down at his drums and banging out some superior release of tension. It was JD who asked. “What was that about?”

  Alex nodded. “I call that one ‘colicky baby.’ She wouldn’t stop crying, and I love her, but I was ready to put her in a room and close the door. Not like it would have mattered, she’s got a set of lungs on her that would make me think Bridget had been fooling around with this one,” he pointed one drumstick at a surprised TJ, “except that I trust her.” He heaved a great sigh and the dark shadows under his eyes mirrored the unshaved stubble that TJ was just noticing.

  Craig showed up last, and pulled out his bass, spent one minute warming up and then looked at all the rest of them like why aren’t you ready to go?

  They ran songs and formulated a play list, knowing that they were due back on the road in two months. They also had been planning on releasing a new album in the spring, but TJ’s accident had messed that timing up, too. So they talked about what to record and what to leave out of it.

  Brenda stuck her head in during one piece, but they were on a roll and didn’t stop for her. When they finished, she noted that TJ wasn’t on his stool anymore.

  “Nope.” He smiled, but realized that he ought to be. Especially since he had to drive himself home, and didn’t want any lack of energy to affect how he handled the car.

  “So, are you ready for a small local show?”

  They all looked up at that one.

  “When?”

  “Where?”

  “How long?”

  She explained that she had them an in at McMinn’s, a local bar where they’d gotten their start. “You could go back for sentimental reasons.”

  Alex pointed out. “It’s not sentimental, McMinn’s moved.”

  “Ironic, isn’t it?” Brenda tipped her head. “McMinn’s moved because they were getting too big. If they’d stayed in the same place, you couldn’t get invited back. You’d violate all the fire codes. It’s next Thursday night, if you’re up to it.”

  She looked at all of them.

  They all looked at TJ.

  He shrugged. “Sure.” It wasn’t like he was doing anything next Thursday.

  “Good.” Brenda’s voice said the topic was closed, but she didn’t move. They all waited.

  “If you’re up to getting around before the tour dates, there’s a Queen Tribute in Central Park. The sponsors have invited you and, of the three songs you’ve been invited to cover, you guys got Somebody to Love. And they want you all backing up vocals on Bohemian Rhapsody.” She looked straight at TJ. “What do you think of that, Mr. Vocalist?”

  “Yeah.” The word tumbled out of his mouth before he could think. A Queen tribute? He didn’t care if there were only five people there, that was way too cool.

  Luckily the others were thinking, and Brenda spilled a long list of celeb names. They hashed out details, got their set list and told Brenda to RSVP for them.

  For a brief flash TJ thought about calling Norah, then he squashed it.

  JD caught Brenda just as she turned around to leave. “By the way, we need a harpsichord.”

  “A harpsichord?
”

  Both brothers nodded, while Craig and Alex made faces and held up their hands indicating that they’d had nothing to do with this.

  She smirked. “All right. Is there anything else I can get you? Balalaikas? Autoharps? Ukuleles?”

  JD just shook his head ‘no’ as though it was all perfectly reasonable, and Brenda left.

  It hit him then, TJ felt his jaw unhinge. A Queen Tribute in Central Park.

  He had weights to hit tonight.

  He’d drive his own ass to the track tomorrow.

  And by next week he’d be jogging part of it. He’d be on stage in Central Park in six weeks, and no one would notice a difference.

  Chapter 36

  Norah’s feet pounded the surface of the track. Kelsey had come yesterday, this time without Baby Amy. Norah thanked God for small favors. She loved the baby a little too much. And she missed that she hadn’t had a jog stroller for Jordan. Every year at the studio, when school started, she missed him. This year he would have been ten, entering fourth grade. Jeff would have been turning twenty-nine in just another month.

  Today, no one was here. This was originally her day to pick up TJ and bring him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. She was still telling herself it was for the best, but she was running like she could outpace what she’d done.

  She’d come early, lying to herself that she didn’t want to see TJ. She hoped she’d miss him. She also hoped she’d see him. Although what good that could bring, she wasn’t sure. It was truly for the best. She’d known from the start that she didn’t stand a chance with him. Norah didn’t fool herself that there wasn’t beautiful, willing sex just waiting for him out at a bar, or when the guys hit the road again.

  She didn’t know how Kelsey stood being married to JD. She figured she’d ask tomorrow when the other woman was supposed to show up—on TJ’s off days. Never mind that all the days were now TJ’s off days.

  Her feet hit an even cadence, as her brain tried to push out thoughts of JD cheating on Kelsey, although she was certain he wouldn’t. He was far too steady. He also wasn’t the frontman like TJ, preferring to stay in the background. And, oh yeah, he didn’t flirt like a shameless whore with every female nearby.