The Song

by Chris Fabry

  Jed stared at her, taking her in. He felt like he’d found a gold mine in her heart.

  They were sitting on the couch, a couple of weeks before Christmas, drinking wine and watching a rerun of It’s a Wonderful Life on TV. Shep had fallen asleep under an afghan in his favorite recliner. The man had accepted Jed’s presence and things had gone from tense to inviting in the Jordan home. Jed had helped with winterizing the vineyard as the farm went into its yearly hibernation. Shep actually seemed to like having Jed around, though he still put on the wary attitude every now and then. Tonight his heavy, rhythmic breathing was the undertone to their evening, the background noise that made things a little less romantic than when they were alone.

  Jed smiled. “You don’t snore like that, do you?”

  “I hope not,” she said.

  He put his arm around Rose and drew her close, and it felt like everything in the world was melting away.

  Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed were in an impassioned embrace on their wedding night, rain falling through the holes in the roof of the old Granville place. Ernie and Bert were singing “I Love You Truly” just outside the window. Jed thought that might be a good song to remake. Maybe he could do something with the harmonies.

  “This is my favorite,” Rose whispered. She was holding a coffee table book with pictures of vineyards from around the world. On one page was a white chapel surrounded by rows of vines. She wrote in red on a sticky note, Love this!!! and drew an arrow on the note to the picture.

  She snuggled close, and Jed smelled her shampoo and felt the softness of her hair against his skin. He rested his stubbly cheek against hers, put his lips to her ear, and said, “I think I love you, Rose Jordan.”

  Then he took her chin in his hand and kissed her. After a moment she drew back and stared at him, the firelight flickering in her eyes. Jed waited, wondering what she was thinking.

  Rose set the book down and without hesitation kissed Jed again, this time putting her hands behind his head and pulling him toward her. He kissed her deeply, tasting the wine on her lips.

  Then he heard something in the room. Or better yet, didn’t hear something—her father’s snoring.

  Shep cleared his throat. “Hey, you two. How’s the movie?”

  “It’s okay,” Rose said as she sat back quickly.

  “It’s not as good as the wine, Mr. Jordan,” Jed said and saw Rose roll her eyes.

  “That’s good to hear. Maybe I’ll stay awake to watch the rest of it.”

  “I think I need to be going,” Jed said.

  “Don’t leave on account of me,” Shep said.

  Jed took a last sip of wine and put on his coat. “Need to get home. I think I have a song to write.”

  Rose stifled a laugh and walked outside with him, standing on the porch.

  Jed took her hand. “I love you, Rose.”

  She smiled. “I love you, too.”

  Jed played a coffeehouse near Louisville with Rose right there in the middle of the crowd. He had asked his mother if she wanted to come but she wasn’t feeling well. Shep didn’t like driving at night—something about his eyes not being as good as they used to be.

  Jed had almost finished his set and was ready to play his last song when something came over him. Maybe it was the polite applause he was hearing or the look on Rose’s face when he sang the words that came from his heart. Maybe he just missed his father and wished he could have a piece of him back again.

  “I don’t normally do this,” he said. “But here’s one you might know.

  “I cannot hear, I have no sight.

  Dark is near and your blinding light.

  Can you hear me when I cry,

  catch me when I fall?

  ’Cause I can’t hold on.”

  It was the chorus to one of his father’s famous songs and he circled back around and sang it from verse one all the way through with all the feeling his dad put into it. The guitar picked up the subtle pain and longing, and he glanced at Rose, who seemed a little surprised by the applause at the beginning. By the time he was done, the room was crazy. Not over-the-top standing ovation, but a quiet homage to the words and music that flowed from father through son.

  Later that night, sitting on the back of Shep’s flatbed Ford and staring into the vast sky, then into Rose’s eyes, which seemed to give him the same feeling, things became clear to Jed in a way they never had.

  “You were really great tonight,” Rose said.

  “I’m glad you think so.”

  “Everyone thought so.”

  He turned his head. “Well . . .”

  “That last song, people really liked that one.”

  “Yeah,” Jed said, hearing a little sadness in his voice.

  “What?” she said.

  “That was my dad’s song.”

  The look on her face said it all, and he wished he hadn’t told her.

  “Aww, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It’s fine. It’s a good song.” He thought for a moment, debating whether or not to tell her what was going on inside. What was really going on. And then he looked at her face, the love that was there, and he couldn’t hold back. “You know, sometimes I think about letting it go. Music. I look at you. Tonight. I look at the stars . . . I see God here.”

  Rose studied him, something turning over in her mind. “If you could ask God for anything and you knew he’d say yes, what would you ask for?”

  A thousand things floated through his mind. Turn back the clock. Keep his dad from dying. Keep his family from all the pain. Make him successful. Give him a billion fans. But above all that, one thing rose to the surface.

  “I’d want to be wise. That way I could live right. And really live. And if I did sing, it’d only be because I had something to say.”

  “Then you should just ask for that,” Rose said. She shifted on the back of the truck and plugged her ears. Jed thought this must have been what she looked like as a little girl on the playground, stopping her ears from somebody’s words, her hair hanging down. Beautiful.

  “I won’t listen,” she said. “Go ahead.”

  So he did. He spoke the words to the sky as if he were talking directly to the Almighty. “God, I want to be wise.” And then he added, “Please.”

  Rose unstopped her ears and looked into his eyes. “You feel any different?”

  He let the question hang there and suddenly, as if God were reaching down and showing him the path, Jed saw the chapel from the book. He saw his father’s hands on wood, rows of vines stretching toward the sun, and behind them the white chapel and the steeple rising above.

  He stood and looked into the shadows where he knew the knoll rose on the hillside, then turned. “You think your dad would let me build a chapel here? At the vineyard? Like the one in your book. With the sticky note thing.”

  “Why would you want to?” Rose said, a slow smile creeping over her face.

  “So I could marry you,” he said.

  The look in her eyes said all he needed to know. Said everything about the future. Their future.

  “I’ll ask your dad. And I’ll build the chapel,” he said. “Marry me.”

  She nodded—couldn’t seem to stop her head from bobbing up and down—and then she was off the truck and in his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

  When they were still again, looking into each other’s eyes, he said, “Let me do this. Let me build you a chapel.”

  “How long will it take?”

  “A year?”

  Rose groaned and shook her head. “I can’t wait that long.”

  CHAPTER 16

  THE NEXT DAY, Jed showed up unannounced before breakfast and asked if he could speak with Shep in his office. The man stared at him, then glanced at Rose, who was grinning so wide it nearly blinded them.

  Jed sat in front of the man he hoped would be his father-in-law, in the same chair with the same animals looking on as when he asked to date Rose. Strangely, the furs and stuffed animals comfo
rted him this time. They were at least some company while he watched the man listen to his halting words.

  “Mr. Jordan, I think you know by now that Rose and I are in love.”

  “Mm-hmm. At least what you might call love.”

  “Sir?”

  “Love is an overused word, in my opinion. People love baseball teams and lattes. They love popcorn shrimp and crunchy peanut butter or the smell of a new car. That ain’t love.”

  Jed nodded.

  “Love is a commitment. Love is not just saying something, but doing something about what you say. Anybody can say the word, but few actually say it and live it. You understand?”

  Dry-mouthed, Jed nodded again. “And that’s what I want to do, Mr. Jordan. I want to show your daughter that I love her. I’ve told her that, but I want to make it official.”

  “And you think she’ll say yes?”

  “I know she will,” Jed said, leaning forward. “Mr. Jordan, you told me to date her and see if things went well. To cut it off if it didn’t go anywhere. To protect her heart. Well, it went somewhere. And I did protect her heart. But she’s stolen mine. I’ve respected her and you. I’ve tried to prove to you that I’m not like some other guys.”

  Shep nodded. “And you know what? You passed the test. I was wrong about you. At least I think I was. You’ve done everything I’ve asked and more to make my little girl happy.”

  “Thank you.” Jed almost choked on the words. “So you’ll give your blessing?”

  “For what?”

  “For marriage. I want to marry your daughter.”

  The man squinted like this was a new idea to him. He dipped his head, then uncrossed his legs and stood, reaching out a hand. “Get you a blood test.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Get you a blood test to make sure you don’t have one of those diseases and I’ll give my blessing.”

  “Sir, that’s not going to be a concern because I’ve—”

  “Good. You shouldn’t have a problem getting the test.”

  “No sir, you’re right. No problem at all.”

  Shep shook his hand firmly. “You pass that final test and you’re in.”

  After Jed’s blood test came back clear and Rose’s did too (she felt like it was the least she could do for him), she read every book about marriage on the planet. She knew the five love languages in Swahili by the time the wedding rolled around.

  Pastor Bingham at the church was excited to walk through premarital counseling with them. “Most people prepare more for the wedding ceremony than they do their marriage,” he said in their first session. “Best gift I could give you is to see what struggles you’re going to have down the road and work on them now rather than later.”

  And that’s what he did. They talked about starting a family and when. They talked about debt and who would do the domestic chores, food shopping, all the way down to which way the toilet paper roll should go. Well, not quite that far, but close.

  “You’d be surprised at how much acrimony there is over the little things,” Pastor Bingham said. “Most of the time couples store up the hurt and don’t deal with it until they’re ready to give up. By then, they’ve forgotten what the original problem was. I don’t want to see that happen to you.”

  The further they went with the sessions, the clearer it became that Jed and Rose were not only compatible, but seemingly made for each other. There were differences, of course, and Pastor Bingham said those differences could either tear them apart or be used to draw them together. Though Jed was up-front and onstage, he liked his privacy. He loved being alone. He was a thinker. Rose needed friends and loved her family.

  “This is the type of thing you have to anticipate,” the pastor said. “Rose, what happens if you’re invited to a party and Jed doesn’t want to go? What happens down the road if Jed’s music doesn’t take off? Doesn’t pay the bills? Will you work?”

  “I want to help my dad with the vineyard,” she said. “But I don’t want to work outside of that.”

  “What happens if Jed goes to work for a company? And what if that company insists he move to Dallas or Seattle or Green Bay? What do you do then?”

  “Jed wouldn’t ask me to leave here,” Rose said.

  “I know being here is important,” Jed said. “She said something to me when we first started dating. It was . . .” He thought a moment. “She said family was more important than stuff, things that eventually get thrown away. Family is forever.”

  “And you agree with that?”

  “At the time I didn’t. But I see what she’s saying now.”

  Rose’s heart swelled when she heard her own words coming back to her through Jed’s voice. She wouldn’t have expected him to remember that conversation from months ago.

  Pastor Bingham nodded and asked the next series of questions, but the one about moving unnerved Rose and kept her up thinking until the wee hours of the morning. What if they had to leave the vineyard? Would she be able to go?

  The next evening they were having dinner with Jed’s mother. They had spent some time together, and Rose hoped this would be a relationship that would help Bethany move forward, sort of a Ruth-Naomi situation. So far Bethany King had been a little distant, although pleasant and cordial, but Rose hoped she would warm over time.

  When Rose showed her the engagement ring, Bethany’s mouth dropped.

  “Where did you get this?”

  “I’ve been saving for a house,” Jed said. “Just decided to invest in something to go inside it a little early.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Bethany said.

  “I didn’t want anything fancy,” Rose said. “I’d have taken a twist tie for the garbage bag if that’s all he had.”

  “I’m happy for both of you,” Bethany said with a smile. “Have you set a date?”

  “We’re looking at the first weekend in October,” Rose said. “It’ll be almost exactly a year from when we met.”

  “And your pastor is okay with that? With having it go that fast?”

  “We’ve been through the third degree with him, Mom,” Jed said, something off with his tone. “A year’s enough time if you’re sure.”

  “It’s really been eye-opening,” Rose said quickly, trying to help calm the conversation. “We have so much in common, but we also have a lot to work on.” She took Jed’s hand. “And I’m looking forward to the work.”

  Bethany patted Rose’s other hand and smiled, but sadness was etched on her face. Her hair had turned gray and it was something she didn’t try to color away. Jed said it was as if she had finally become comfortable with who she was, and who she was encompassed all the loneliness of widowhood.

  “I wish you all the best with your work. You’re getting a good man. And I’m happy to be getting a daughter.”

  CHAPTER 17

  BY THE TIME OCTOBER was in sight, everything was ready except for the chapel.

  “You’re getting married in a frame of two-by-fours,” Denise said, looking at the knoll above the farm.

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Rose said. “I want to put white sash up all around it, and flowers.”

  “You should move it to a church. You might still be able to find one.”

  “Don’t you think it’s romantic that it’s not finished? It signifies we’re just starting out. We’ll put up the drywall and the roof as we go along. Just like we’re building our marriage.”

  “Cute. Wonderful. But what if it rains on your metaphor? The extended weather forecast calls for showers.”

  “I don’t live my life by the Weather Channel.”

  “Well, maybe you should consider it.”

  “Let the winds come and the rain blow. If you build your marriage on a solid foundation—”

  “Enough with the metaphors and parables or whatever they are. Let’s get practical. October here can be windy or rainy or cold. Or all three.”

  “If it’s bad, we’ll move the ceremony inside.”

  “Where? Into the barn?
The house, with all those dead animals wandering around?”

  “Denise, it’s a small wedding. There’s only going to be thirty people or so.”

  “And the musicians and caterers and photographer.”

  “Look, if this were your wedding, I would never suggest it, but I’m different. And I appreciate your help and all the planning you’re doing.”

  “I think it’s a mistake,” Denise said, shaking her head. “And it’s a bad omen.”

  “What is?”

  “Getting married in a building that’s half-finished. Rose, this shows he’s not really committed. He’s more interested in his career than he is the relationship. Don’t you see?”

  “I’ve encouraged him to focus on his music. I believe in him. Don’t you see that? We’re in this together and I’m glad he wants to pay the bills. He’s very conscientious.”

  “Good for him. I’m glad he has paying gigs even if he doesn’t have a record contract or a manager. But if he can’t finish the place where you’re getting married, can you trust him to do the other hard stuff? Think about it, Rose.”

  She did think about it, and at first she dismissed even the thought that Jed wouldn’t follow through on a commitment. But every time she looked at the chapel, the wood gleaming in the sun and the leaves bright with color against the hills, a little doubt crept in. Surely he would always choose her over every other thing, though. He wouldn’t let her down.

  Will and Zack, Rose’s brothers, made it to the farm early on the morning of the wedding. Rose could tell it was difficult for her father—the boys coming back. They had, in a sense, rejected his way of life, and it brought tension to the house the minute they walked inside.

  “You just focus on you,” Denise said. “Let the boys take care of themselves.”

  Rose did, and before long she heard cars pulling in and voices of people setting up tables and taking chairs to the chapel. To think all this fuss was for her, as a bride, was against her constitution. Part of her just wanted to elope or find a justice of the peace and avoid all the bother. She had lived her life trying not to put people out in any way. But the dream of a real wedding with a real dress and the walk down the aisle with her dad won out.