Ethan's Song

by Jan Carol

  "You can get your shower later. I’m so excited about this song." The man talked until she agreed to be only a few minutes.

  She sat in his inner office, listening as he read the catchy words. When he had finished the poem-like page, he looked up at her.

  "Is this you? Or is it you? I don’t know who wrote it or who put the thing to music, but it’s gorgeous. They sent a signed and notarized paper, the signature being anonymous. But they give you exclusive rights to it. What do you think?"

  "Well, the words are fine. I don’t know until I hear the melody." She was sincere, but hadn’t found the excitement she’d lost when he’d mentioned her going to the top with it. "It might not be what I can sing, you know."

  "Oh, it is." Pushing a button, the man on the other side of the desk began talking. "Get Roger to the recording room. I want him to play this piece again." He looked up at Jenà. "Come on, sweetheart." He was up, coming around his desk, taking her hand.

  She had never minded being called that by him before, but now it seemed to bristle her. Ethan addressed her as his sweetheart. Though it was said in a different tone, with a different meaning, coming from Donaho she almost loathed it. It had become an exclusive for Ethan in the time she had been gone.

  He had taken her left hand, walking to the door when he stopped. Raising her hand to inspect the foreign object he felt, he asked in a tone that said he was surprised and upset. "What’s this?" His finger played with the ring that was almost as new to her as it was to him.

  "That’s something we have to talk about later." She informed him in a light tone.

  "We’ve got a few minutes." His hand was on the door, but suddenly he wasn’t ready to open it.

  "Sorry. It’s something that’s going to take longer than a few minutes." Moving his hand off the doorknob, she opened it and led him to the room where she would hear the music being played.

  "You’ll have supper with us tonight, where there won’t be interruptions." Donaho sensed that what she was going to tell him would need privacy and his complete attention. Setting it aside in his mind, he found excitement again. "You won’t believe the music. I know I haven’t heard you sing it, except in my head, but I know it’s just right for you."

  "All right. I’m here. I’m going to listen. I’ll even give it a chance, Donaho. Let’s just calm down. I really don’t want to have to send you off to the hospital." It sounded as if she were joking with him, when in fact she couldn’t have been more serious.

  The small studio was used mostly for such things as they were doing. Donaho wasn’t into recording, he was just the man who contracted with singers, then found the right studio for them. This was two small rooms with the barest of necessary equipment. The smallest room was big enough for a keyboard, the one playing it, and for her to stand or sit and hold her guitar. Her own bathroom was larger.

  Roger sat at the keyboard, waiting for the go ahead. The man who had followed her into the outer room, flipped a switch and spoke into the microphone. "Okay, Roger. It’s yours." Using a finger, he put the switch back in place, pulling down another so they could hear what came from the keyboard.

  She sat on a stool with her eyes closed, feeling the flow of the music. Whoever had done the piece seemed to know a lot about what he was doing. The beat was beautiful. It was her kind of song. She felt the words as he played the notes to them. Having only heard them once, it was surprising to her how they could be so clear in her mind. Had she heard them somewhere else? No, she couldn’t have. It was one that was sure to hit the charts, if it were put out.

  When the music came to an end, her eyes remained closed and she was still listening to it play through her mind. "Well?" Donaho broke into her thoughts. "What do you think? Do you want to give it a try? I’d love to have it on tape, for my personal collection." He had added the last bit to assure her that it would go no further.

  "Have him play it again, let me have the sheet and I’ll see what I can do with it from here." Her eyes were still closed as the music flowed through her, as if it were made only for her.

  "Go in there and do your practicing. You know it’ll be good." Her agent pushed her slightly, handing the paper to her as she went.

  Without arguing, Jenà did as he bid. Roger was very patient, having to start over several times, until she knew where to come in and pick up at the pauses. Because it was such an easy tune, by late afternoon she was listening to herself on tape as Donaho played it back to them.

  "It’s missing something." Roger spoke up during the middle of it. "Guitar is all I’ve heard you with, other than with this piece. It’s beautiful, but guitar isn’t what it needs."

  "I agree." The man in the outer room spoke to them through his microphone. "I’ll tell you what, sweetheart, I’ll drop this tape by Donnie’s studio on our way to supper. He’ll know what it needs."

  "No you don’t Donaho." She was walking out of the smaller rooms, followed by the musician. "I know what you’re trying to do. It isn’t going to work."

  "It’s just for me, honey. Listen, I want this for me." The older man had joined her in the hall.

  Roger was beside her also. "I’d love one, too. It isn’t often a potential star refuses fame and fortune."

  "Cut it out, you guys. You know my reasons." She continued toward the exit. "I’m passing on supper, Donaho. I’m a bit tired."

  "I thought you had something to tell me about this?" He picked up the hand that sported the large diamond ring.

  "Oh." Her voice was almost flat. "I’d almost forgotten." She stopped, facing him.

  "Wow!" Roger had seen it just then. "How could you forget something like that?"

  Ignoring the man behind her, she spoke to her agent. "I’m getting married in a few months. End of singing."

  His voice was very quiet, hiding the boiling anger that was on the way to the surface. "You’re doing what?"

  "Getting married. You know, settling down, having kids, the whole works." She had turned, walking out the door, being followed by the two men.

  "You can’t do that, Jenà." Now his voice was threatening. "We’ve a contract, binding, legal. Eighteen months left."

  "I had hoped because you weren’t making a lot of money on me, you’d see that I got out of it early." At her car the threesome stopped.

  "No." Donaho gave his unmovable answer. Maybe, just maybe in those eighteen months he could persuade her to do something with her life. "No." He repeated his answer with more clarity.

  "I love Ethan, Donaho, and I’ll do everything I can to get out from under this." Whenever anyone used threats, rebellion and defiant behavior came from her as a defense.

  "I’ll do everything I can to make you stick to it." His hand was on the door she was going to open.

  "You know I can sing horribly and get turned down." Her threat hit him hard, she could see.

  "You wouldn’t." His eyes narrowed at her. "I could sue you. I have a witness."

  She gave a questioning look at Roger who shrugged his shoulders. She knew he couldn’t risk his job with the agency by not backing up his boss. She wouldn’t ask him to.

  Physically moving the man from her car door, she said no more as she got into it and drove herself to the solitude of her apartment. She knew she shouldn’t have said those words. Now if she carried it out, or anything like it, she would face... Donaho wouldn’t, would he?

  Outside her apartment door, she could hear her phone ringing. Dropping the keys, then having difficulty in unlocking the door, she was disappointed at not catching it before the calling party hung up. With a sigh, she dialed the eleven digits now familiar to her.

  She knew it had been Ethan trying to call her. Yet the phone kept ringing in his home. As she listened to the continued sound, she pictured the place as she’d seen it that morning, the years that would belong to them, the children they would have, the continued traditions of his childhood home.

  With a heavy sigh, she set the phone down in disgust. Where could he be? Looking at her watch told he
r his office should have closed an hour and a half ago. But that didn’t mean he’d left. Maybe he was still there, catching up on what he should have done that morning.

  Before she could pick up the hand piece to dial the office number, the box jangled, causing her to jump. Maybe he was calling her back. Quickly she picked it up and answered with all the hope of hearing his deep, sexy voice.

  "Jenà, I’m truly sorry I lost myself earlier." Donaho’s voice was the last one she wanted to hear, the silence told him. "Don’t be upset with me, please."

  His words brought back Ethan’s plea and the melancholy she had felt the whole day. "I’m sorry, Donaho. I’m afraid we were both in the wrong."

  "I’m glad you feel that way," he was quick to say. "Listen, about supper... Would it be all right if Angel and I come over to pick you up. We’ll go to the Orange Paradise for a good meal."

  "I’m tired." She honestly was, but her main concern was getting her call through to Ethan. She wouldn’t sleep until she told him she was sorry, among other things she had on her mind. "Could we do it another night?"

  "Please, Jenà. If I promised to have you back home before eleven?" He was insistent. "Angel wants to see you again, and we’d like to talk about this marriage thing."

  "I think we should let that subject go until we both cool off." She felt calmer, but didn’t want to get upset at him again.

  "I am cooled down. I promise I won’t threaten you with anything. Angel will see to it that I don’t. You know how she adores you." Donaho continued until she gave in. "Good. We’ll be by in thirty minutes." He hung up before she could reply.

  With the receiver in hand again, she dialed Ethan’s office. If he was there, she hoped he wouldn’t be into anything important. After the third ring, the other end was picked up.

  "Ayers." His voice sounded distracted, but deep and good to her ears.

  "I love you, Mr. Ayers." She sounded as she had intended, sexy and desirable.

  His voice changed, as she received his full attention. "Jenà. Just the woman I wanted to talk to. I’ve been trying to call all afternoon."

  "I’m sorry. I was trying to call you, too, but Donaho got a call in and I got caught up in a new song. I missed catching one caller when I got back, and thought it might have been you." She hung onto the phone as if it were a lifeline to him. "I miss you."

  "I hope not more than I miss you. We’d both be in bad shape. I really missed hearing you tell me you loved me before you left." He waved the two people out of his office. There was nothing going to distract him from her. "You don’t know what it did to hear you say it just now."

  "Well, if it would help, I’ll tell you again. I love you very much." Sitting in the chair, she closed her eyes. "I wish you were here."

  "I’m very much in love with you, too." He spoke in so low a voice, she found herself pushing the speaker harder against her ear. "What would you do with me if I were there, Jenà?"

  "Oh, I’d probably have to hang you in the closet. There’s no room for two of us in here." She looked around, smiling as if he was there with her. "I’d invite you to go to dinner with us."

  "Us?" He sounded interested. "Just a few hours away, and you’re already going out?"

  "My agent and his wife are taking me. He wants to discuss braking my contract a year early. When I first told him, he flew off the handle and threatened to sue me, can believe it?" Kicking her shoes off, she knew she couldn’t be on the phone long. She wanted to take a shower and put on fresh clothes before they arrived. "But he’s calmed down enough to discuss it now."

  "Another year on your contract?" Ethan asked slowly.

  "Actually eighteen more months. I told him we were getting married in six, so I’d be ending what contract there is left."

  "I hope you put it to him a little gentler than that." Ethan chuckled. "Hearing his reaction, I guess I know the answer to that, don’t I?"

  "It’s so good to hear your voice again." She changed the subject quickly. "I’m sorry I was so childish this morning."

  "Childish? Sweetheart, if wanting me to make love to you is childish, please, never grow up." The words were filled with his laughter. "I understand this morning." He was more serious.

  "I wasn’t the least bit understanding, was I?" Her laughter was short-lived. "And if you want to come this Friday, I’d be more than happy to find room for you."

  "That’s very tempting." He was teasing her. "I’ll have to give it a lot of thought, though. I heard you had very little time for visitors."

  "I’ll make time for only one very special visitor, Mr. Ayers." She needed to go, as it had already been twenty minutes since her agent’s call. "I took you away from something important, didn’t I?" But hanging up wasn’t what she really wanted to do.

  "For you, honey, I’d put off anything. But if I want to get out of here before midnight, you’ll have to let me go." His tone said he didn’t want her to hang up, either.

  "I’ve got less than ten minutes to take a shower and get dressed. You’ll be here Friday night?" She took the last few moments on the phone to begin undressing.

  "If I can get things going on the right track, I’ll be there." Ethan’s promise was what she wanted to hear.

  Dressed in her blue suede pantsuit, she answered the doorbell after its second ring, hearing the couple tell her how good she looked, accepting both their hugs. Her hair was still wrapped in a towel and she excused herself to get it brushed out.

  Sitting in front of the small dressing table, she pulled the towel down, rubbing at her dark brown hair to take the excess moisture from it. Angel had come into her room at that time, letting out a squeal.

  "What have you done?" Her loudly spoken question was more of an accusation, which brought her husband to the doorway.

  "What is it, Angel?" His voice was near panic, not knowing what she saw that Jenà had done.

  "Her hair, Philip! She cut it off!" Angel exclaimed in much the same tone as she had used before. "Why didn’t you warn me that she cut off that beautiful hair?"

  Donaho looked at Jenà then back at his wife. "I didn’t know she had, dear, or I would have told you. Something you’ve just done, Jenà?" The couple walked over to where the young woman sat, watching as she shaped the damp hair into place.

  "Almost four weeks ago." Her tone was indifferent. "The doctor said it was the cause of those headaches I’ve had. I’ve not had one since, either. You wouldn’t believe the way I felt after cutting it. It was as if I’d lost a siamese twin!" She laughed, mostly at the look on Angel’s face.

  "I can’t believe you cut all that beautiful hair." Angel ran her hand through the new length. "I think it’s rather becoming. Makes you look more your age, dear." Her voice had calmed considerably.

  The man stepped closer to his wife, looking at the woman sitting before him. "I knew there was something different when you came into the office. I was afraid to ask, as I know how sensitive you women are about changes when someone has to ask what they are."

  She was smiling through her mirror at him. "Just admit it, Donaho. You didn’t notice anything at all. Neither did Roger."

  Angel watched as it moved about as Jenà stood and turned to face them. "Men don’t notice anything important." She put her arm into her husband’s. "It is very becoming, Jenà. I really like it."

  "It is nice." Philip Donaho agreed with his wife, looking at his watch. "We’re just about late for our reservation. So, if you’re ready, we really should go."

  Her manager had ordered a light meal over the phone when he made the reservations. There were a lot of people in the crowd that the three knew. Waving in recognition, they enjoyed the soft music playing in the background. It was soothing, but made Jenà long for Ethan’s arms to dance in.

  When their table was cleared, Mr. Donaho did a quick movement that neither of the women saw. The piano was quieted in the middle of a song and the owner, whom Jenà knew quite well, took the microphone to the center front stage.

  "I’d like your a
ttention." His voice boomed through the room, though it was mostly silenced when the music had come to a stand still. "I know this is irregular for us, but I’ve been informed that one of the greatest singers we enjoyed on this stage several weeks ago, is back with us tonight. I wonder if you’ll help me bring her back up here? Jenà Wisdom!" He held a hand out in the direction of the front table where she sat. The room exploded with applause.

  She gave her agent a nasty look as she stood. This was one of the things she hated, and he knew it, but there was no way she could back out. "What am I supposed to do? I didn’t bring my guitar. This was supposed to be only dinner."

  "Piano," Donaho mouthed. He stood beside her, escorting her on stage. "Roger will play the new song." These words were spoken near her ear so she could hear.

  "Roger? New song? You had this all planned!" Her voice accused as she was forced to keep going. "We’ve not practiced enough. I can’t..."

  "You’ll do great, baby. Trust me. I know what I’m doing." He left as she went up the few stairs.

  As she walked to the man still holding center stage, she glanced down, seeing Roger sitting on the bench before the grand piano. He nodded then began playing the prelude. As she reached the owner, he put the mike into her hand in time for her to begin.

  Her voice sang out loud and clear as the hands in the audience were silenced. Her thoughts were on Ethan, the words sung to him. She, herself, couldn’t believe how easily the song flowed from her. It was as if she was singing it for the hundredth time, but would never tire of it. The words spoke of the love she had for the man in Savannah.

  The response had been what her agent was wanting. There was still something missing, but it was beautiful. He stood at the bottom of the steps waiting to escort her back to the table as Roger played more of the soft music that had been interrupted. As they made their way back to the table, she put her hand in several that had been outstretched to her, accepting the words they spoke about the song. Mostly she was embarrassed by the whole thing.