by Rachel Lee
Rory looked at Abby. “You ever sing?”
“Alto for a while in the church choir. That’s it.”
“Then how about we go out to the studio and record Regina’s song? Abby can harmonize on the chorus. Later if you want we can add more instrumentation.”
“But...” Abby’s protests were lost as Regina jumped up excitedly. She didn’t know the first thing about singing a background vocal, in fact very little about singing at all, but somehow her protests got drowned and she was dragged by the two of them out to the barn.
The studio was even more impressive than she recalled from her one brief viewing. She couldn’t imagine how much all the equipment had cost, not to mention the keyboards, drums and guitars. Equalizers. Recording equipment, microphones...she didn’t even know what it all was.
Only after receiving the promise from Rory that her entire vocal track could be erased if it ruined Regina’s song did Abby agree to put on headphones and stand at one of the microphones.
Regina started at the keyboard, humming her way through one time. Abby hummed along as requested on the chorus, trying to find the harmony by instinct. Finally she got it, and Rory said, “Let’s go. Remember, ladies, it can all be erased if you’re not happy.”
This was, Abby realized, the happiest father and daughter had looked yet. She supposed it was worth croaking her way through this to make them happy. She had no doubt that Regina’s gift had touched Rory as much as she had wanted it to.
The song almost sounded Celtic to Abby, though she couldn’t have explained why. Regina’s pure soprano filled her ears through the verse and then came her turn at the chorus. Rory pointed at her from the control room, telling her exactly when to join in.
In Daddy’s heart ove endures
And there I am secure.
Daddy’s heart, Daddy’s heart,
The place a child should be.
Daddy’s heart, Daddy’s heart,
The home where I am me.
Regina was all excited when they finished and couldn’t wait to hear the playback. Rory obliged, his eyes looking damp. He hugged her first, though, telling him that nobody had ever given him anything as special as that song.
Abby wondered if she should slip back to the house, but before she could take a step in that direction, Regina had drawn her into the hug with Rory.
Then the girl became an impatient ten-year-old again. “Play it again, Dad, please. I can’t really hear it right when I sing it.”
“No, you can’t,” Rory agreed. He took them into the control booth, adjusted some buttons and soon the song was emanating from the speakers around them.
Regina’s voice was every bit as beautiful as Abby had expected, but her own surprised her. She didn’t sound at all like a frog. Not half-bad, she decided. But darned if she was ever going to do that again. She had enough to make her nervous.
Regina turned to her when the song ended. “See, you didn’t ruin it at all. You made it better.” Then she turned toward Rory, looking suddenly tentative. “Do you like it, Dad?”
He picked her up right off her feet and whirled her around in his arms. “I love it. It’s the most beautiful gift ever. And you’ve got some talent, girl.”
“I got it from you,” Regina chortled. “If Mom ever wrote a song, it got flushed.” Then she giggled.
Abby noted that Rory didn’t join in the criticism, although it might have been tempting. She gave him his due for refusing to denigrate Stella in front of her daughter. Too bad that was a one-way street.
Rory cut three CDs for them, all the while talking to Regina about music. “So you really have it running in your head all the time?”
“Most of the time,” Regina said, still happy and beaming. “It stops sometimes when I have to concentrate on schoolwork, but the minute I’m done, it starts coming in snatches again. Just little pieces. This is my first whole song.” Then she paused. “I’m not so good with the words, though.”
“You did just fine. And that’ll come.” Rory looked at his daughter, his eyes gleaming with huge pride. “I’m so glad you have the music. Feel free to come in here any time. Or, if you want a guitar...” He looked over to where his “baby” stood propped against a stand. “Maybe it’s time you had my grandpa’s guitar.”
Abby’s throat tightened, and she slipped out of the control booth, leaving father and daughter to enjoy their moment of discovery. She knew how much that guitar meant to Rory, yet he was ready to give it to Regina. There was so much love between them.
* * *
Back in the house, feeling curiously sad, as if she had glimpsed something beautiful that could never be hers, Abby glanced at the clock and decided to make a special dinner for Regina. Homemade pizza, dough from scratch. With the bread machine to do the kneading and rising, there was time, and she had plenty of marinara sauce left.
She pulled out the machine and started the dough quickly enough. A journey to the pantry found plenty of toppings, although she decided she’d better ask Regina how she felt about things like mushrooms and onions on her pizza. The machine would also be good for making rolls for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Maybe she ought to try that out in the morning. Homesick for something you couldn’t quite remember. That was the feeling she had, although she was quite sure she knew what it was. Seeing the magic circle surrounding Rory and his daughter, she had wished she could be part of that kind of love. A vain wish, and she tried to banish it as she sat at the kitchen table with coffee and listened to the bread machine grind and pound away. It was loud, pretty much blocking everything else out.
No time to get maudlin, she warned herself. Something special had happened for Rory and Regina, and she should be cheering it, not bemoaning the fact that her own life was empty of it. Someday, maybe, she’d find that for herself. But in the meantime, she had some demons to deal with and plans to make. The incident with Rory yesterday had made her aware of their hot buttons. Both of them were strewn with them. Best to just keep away from dangerous ground.
A half hour later, Regina returned, Rally at her heels. “Dad has some work to do. He said he’d be back in an hour or so.”
Abby almost smiled. She figured Rory would quickly lose track of time and might even forget dinner without Regina to remind him.
“What are you making?” Regina asked as she got a soda, then joined Abby at the table.
“That racket is the bread maker. I’m making pizza dough.”
Regina’s eyes widened. “Homemade pizza? From scratch? With real dough, not that cracker stuff?”
“Real yeast dough,” Abby agreed. “You need to tell me what you want on it.”
“I want to help make it!”
“Then you can. All help is welcome.” She studied Regina closely, though. The girl’s eyes seemed a little shiny. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine. Just a tiny bit queasy, but the soda will take care of that. It always does. At least one of my nannies got something right.”
Abby had to smile. “Awful nannies? What was the story with them? You don’t seem like a whole lot of trouble to me.”
“I suppose Mom made it sound worse that it was.” Regina rolled her eyes. “Some of them didn’t like me. I wasn’t always good.”
“Who is?”
Regina giggled. “True. The last one, though...all she wanted me to do was stay out of the way so she could have her boyfriend over. I got tired of having to stay in my room any time I wasn’t at school or at dance class or so
ccer practice.” She paused. “I was signed up for every activity available. I liked soccer, dancing not so much.”
“Piano?”
“Yup, had lessons for that, too.”
Abby nodded. “Lots of opportunity.”
“Lots of running around. I had fun with most of it, but if I didn’t like something, I wasn’t allowed to quit.” Regina scowled. “I could understand that if I’d insisted I wanted ballet lessons, but I never asked for them and I didn’t like them.”
Abby nodded sympathetically but said nothing, even though she was getting a picture of an abandoned child.
“It wasn’t so bad when my dad was still with us. He insisted I needed free time. Of course, then he’d have to go on tour and I needed to be kept busy again. But he came home a lot to see me.” She looked down. “I guess he spent a lot of flying time just to run home and spend a couple days with me between shows. I didn’t think about that before.” She lifted her head. “He’s a good dad. I hope he really likes that song.”
“I have absolutely no doubt he loves it. He doesn’t strike me as someone who gets tears in his eyes easily.”
“No, I never saw him cry.” Regina sighed and sipped more coke. “I know I was lucky. Lots of kids wish they could be me.”
“But if you could have your way?”
“I’d spend all my time here with Dad. Guess that’s not going to happen. Sooner or later he’ll have to go back to work.” But then she brightened. “But I’ll have you.”
Abby almost panicked. She was quite sure this wasn’t what Rory wanted, but she didn’t know how to stem Regina’s attachment to her. She guessed she was going to have to tell Rory about it soon, before it grew deeper.
“Did I say the wrong thing?” Regina asked. “I mean, if you don’t want me around...”
If Abby could have fled right then, she would have. This was going places she had no right to go. She was only the housekeeper and her job might end the instant Rory decided to go back to Nashville. But she couldn’t hurt Regina. It just wasn’t in her. “I do want you around,” she answered. “But keep in mind, I’m just the housekeeper. You dad may have other plans.”
“Yeah.” Regina tilted her head. “He might. And I might change them.” All of a sudden she looked devilish. “How long on that dough?”
The next few hours passed quickly enough. Regina finished her homework then they dug out the pizza pans and Abby taught Regina how to work with the dough.
“I never get to cook,” Regina remarked. “Oh, I can make a sandwich or heat a snack in the microwave, but stuff like this? I want you to teach me, Abby. This is cool.”
Very cool, Abby thought with a secret smile as flour went everywhere and dough stuck to the counter. Soon enough they had the dough on two pans and then came the toppings.
“Spread the sauce thin,” Abby warned her. “You don’t want pizza soup.”
Regina’s concentration was intense as she began to spread the shredded mozzarella and other items. Her tastes weren’t limited, and soon they had spread enough pepperoni and vegetables on top of the pizzas to make a thoroughly satisfying meal.
“I think you’ll have cold pizza for lunch tomorrow,” Abby remarked as they regarded the finished product.
“That’s when it’s best. I really like it for breakfast.” Regina gave her a huge smile. “Thanks for letting me help, Abby.”
“You did most of the work.”
“I like it. It was fun. So you’ll teach me other stuff?”
“Of course.” How could she say no to that?
“When do we put them in the oven?”
“As soon as it finishes heating.”
“I’ll be right back.” Regina gathered up her books and papers and stuffed them into her backpack. Moments later she could be heard running up the stairs.
Abby turned to start cleaning the counters, then paused. This was part of cooking, too. Maybe Regina could glean a few lessons about dealing with sticky dough and dry flour.
“Look at that!” Rory said appreciatively. She hadn’t heard him come in. “Homemade pizza?”
“Regina did most of the work.”
“Most of the mess, too,” he guessed, his eyes twinkling. Rally slipped past him and went to work on his water bowl. “Want me to clean up?”
“First, that’s my job. Second, I was thinking that if Regina wants to learn to cook, she needs to learn this part, too.”
“Good point.” He headed straight for the coffee, stepping around some of the flour that dusted the floor. “That song she made for me is beautiful.” He sat in the chair Regina had recently vacated.
“Yes, it was,” Abby agreed wholeheartedly. “She’s talented. Like you.”
“She’s got a gift, but it’s her own. I can’t get over that melody.”
Abby joined him at the table, much as it went against her grain to leave a mess untouched. “I don’t know why, but it sounded a bit Celtic to me.”
“It did,” he agreed. “Chord progression. It could be played on pipes, too. Amazing from someone her age.”
“Be sure to tell Regina that.”
He smiled. “I did, repeatedly.” Then his smile faded. “I want music to bring her joy. I’m not so sure I want her to follow in my footsteps. Not that it’s my decision.”
“Relax,” said Abby wryly. “We’ll probably be back to horses before morning.”
She enjoyed watching him laugh. She wondered if Regina knew the demons he’d been dealing with since Stella’s call on Saturday, if that had impelled this gift from her. She sure hoped the girl really knew how happy she had made her father.
Regina surprised her by being as eager to learn how to clean up as she had been to cook. She took the warnings about not getting the dry flour wet to heart and repeatedly vacuumed up the dust with a hand vac before they moved on to the stuck dough. A spatula scraped most of it into the sink, then Abby showed her how to use salt as an abrasive to get the rest. That seemed to tickle Regina.
They finished just as the pizzas were ready to come out of the oven. Cooked as perfectly as they could be without a real pizza oven, they sat cooling and bubbling, filling the room with fantastic aromas.
Regina kept inhaling them. “No pizza out of a box ever smelled like that.”
Rory spoke. “No pizza out of a box ever tasted like that.”
She cocked an eye at him. “How would you know?”
“The nose knows.”
More giggling. Abby watched them, smiling, feeling even more envious than before. Even though they included her as part of their circle, she knew deep down that she wasn’t and never would be.
“Say,” said Rory, while they waited for the pizza to be cool enough to cut, “that song of yours, Regina? It shook something loose for me. I’ve been trying to get an idea, and you gave me one.”
“Great!” Regina put her chin in her hand. “Do I get to hear it?”
“After dinner.”
The trouble began a few minutes later. Regina took one bite of her slice, then put it down. Rory was chewing happily, complimenting them both between bites. Abby got halfway through her slice before Regina finally spoke.
“I can’t believe I’m not hungry.”
The two adults snapped their attention to her. “What’s wrong?” they said at the same moment.
“I just feel queasy again. No biggie. But I think I’ll go take a nap, if that’s okay. Save my pizza.”
“Not enough sleep?” Rory asked lightl
y, but Abby noted how he reached across the table to put his hand on Regina’s forehead. “Not feverish,” he said with relief. “Actually, you feel cool.”
“I’ll be okay, Dad,” Regina said with a touch of impatience. “I’ve had an upset stomach before. I think I just need to lie down for a little while.”
“Need any help?” he asked.
Now she rolled her eyes. “I’m sure I can get myself into bed.”
Silence reigned for a few minutes after she went upstairs. Rory sighed finally and resumed eating. “Just an upset stomach. A little bug. No point in making more out of it.”
“No,” Abby agreed quietly. “These things happen. All the excitement, too little sleep and moving to a new place that has a whole crop of germs she’s never met before.”
He nodded. “I forgot about that. A doctor told me a long time ago that if you move a big distance, you’re more likely to get sick for that reason. New bugs. At least that was how he explained why I got so sick sometimes on tour. That and stress.”
“I’m sure there are a bazillion bugs I’ve never met.”
He laughed quietly. “I hope we never meet them.”
“Do you get sick less often now?”
“On tour? Yeah. I think I met a lot of those bugs the first few years.”
“And maybe you don’t stress as much. It’s all familiar.”
A faint frown settled over his face. “Actually, recently it’s begun to stress me more. I don’t get high on it the way I used to. Weird.”
She didn’t think it was weird at all. From things he said, she guessed he was a man weary of traveling and working all the time. Weary of constant demands. Like anyone else, he needed time away. Perfectly understandable. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t change his mind in six months.
Which reminded her of another concern. She hesitated, hating to add anything to his already full plate, but putting it off might compound the problem. If it was a problem.
“Rory? I think Regina’s getting too attached to me.”