by Stephen Bly
“Let me see that.” Price peeked over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Melody continued. “Terrance Davidian, Michael Ovitz… the guy with the Dodgers cap is a VP at Warner Brothers, and you know who that guy is.”
Price snatched the magazine from Tony. “Clint Eastwood?”
“You mean, Davidian really does know some of the movers and shakers in the movie business?” Tony said.
“Apparently.” Melody clutched her hands behind her back and swayed on her sandals.
“What do you think?” Price ventured. “You going to let him represent you?”
“This seems to improve his credulity. So, I guess I probably will. But I still have this feeling I’ll live to regret it.”
Price rubbed the back of her neck. “You can’t be any further away from a movie deal than you are now.” Tony stepped behind her and massaged her neck and shoulders. “I guess I’ll send the papers. I’m not expecting much to come from it, anyway.”
“Maybe Josh can be in Stampede Creek when they make it a movie,” Melody said. “Wouldn’t that be cool? Yesterday on the phone he said…”
Price mouthed “Yesterday?” to Tony.
“…since he’s now a member of the Screen Actors’ Guild, there’s no reason he couldn’t be in movies.” Melody twisted her fingers as though wadding a piece of sticky gum.
”Movies! What he needs is a real job and settle down,” Price blurted out. Ignoring the sparkle in Melody’s big brown eyes, Price quickly changed the subject. “Tony, maybe we ought to send both samples of chapter five to Liz and let her figure it out.”
He stopped rubbing and stepped in front of the two women. “I’m not about to let someone else decide how the flow of my book should go.”
“Your book? That, my handsome husband, is the root of the problem.”
Tony pointed at Price, his mouth open, then lowered his arm.
“Hey, I’ll leave if you want me to,” Melody offered.
Tony sighed. “No. There’s a good solution to all this. We just haven’t found it yet. So, forget chapter five. Let’s get to work on other things.”
The renewed tightness around Price’s eyes loosened as she nodded. “Some people say it’s impossible for two writers to exist under the same roof, but that’s not true. It’s just mostly impossible. That’s different than totally impossible.”
“Melody, I really appreciate your finding that picture of Davidian.” Tony picked up a notepad near the telephone. “Are these the things Liz called about?”
Price glanced at the notes. “Right. She’s rushing you a sample cover for the next book in the River Breaks series.”
“I haven’t even written Standoff at Rifle Ridge yet.”
“Well, that should give you some inspiration. She wants to know if you can make the regional booksellers convention in Denver next month.”
“She’s just now asking me?”
Price hesitated.
“Someone else canceled, right?”
“Sort of.”
“Time to send in the subs.”
“Anthony, you aren’t a sub and you know it. She’s got some more interviews and a television deal in El Paso. She’ll tell you all about it.”
“This is so cool,” Melody said. “I can’t wait until I get a novel published. I’ll need a whole new wardrobe.”
“Not for radio interviews,” Price noted.
“But television… bookstores… public appearances. Wow, do you remember the first time someone asked you for an autograph?”
Tony shrugged. “Nope, but writing is a lot like any other job. Most the time, it’s plain hard work. With some perks. Kind of like teaching, isn’t it, babe?”
“That’s for sure. Plenty of days you wonder if it’s worth it. But it is. I think you’re really going to enjoy teaching, Melody. Did you take that contract back to the school yet?”
“Oh. Well, I’ve been rethinking that, Dr. S.”
“I thought they decided on you.”
“I know. It’s exciting to have a real job lined up. But lately I’ve been thinking about other plans.”
“What plans?”
Melody reached down and adjusted the straps on her sandals. “I’ve been thinking about going to Arizona and visiting some old friends … you know, from college days.”
“Did a certain daredevil stuntman with a sensational smile have anything to do with this?” Price asked.
Melody blushed and flung her long dark hair over her shoulders. “Josh did invite me down for a visit. He said there was a big special show at Rawhide Labor Day weekend and he could get me backstage. Then he teased me about going hang gliding with him in the Grand Canyon and stuff like that.”
“He wasn’t teasing,” Tony cautioned.
“He wasn’t? He figured I could stay at your house. He said his and Paul’s new apartment wasn’t very far from there.”
“Stay with us?” Tony’s eyes glazed.
“Yeah, would it be all right?”
Price quickly regained her composure. “Of course, but that would mean giving up that teaching job. I’m not sure the program at Rawhide is worth that.”
“It’s not just the show.” Melody flipped her hair again. “Dr. S., did Josh ever get serious with a girl?”
“You mean, does he date them more than two or three times?”
“Yeah.”
“I think he dated Terri Carter more than that. She was Miss Arizona. She even finished in the top ten for the Miss America contest.”
Melody’s face sunk into a scolded puppy position. “I must look like a dork to him compared to someone like that.”
“No, you don’t. You’re cute, fun, and smart. Exactly Josh’s type.”
“Really? But what about Miss Arizona?”
“I think Terri holds the record. He dated her five, maybe six times.”
“That’s all?”
“He wears them out. When you go on a date with Josh, it’s six to ten hours of nonstop physical adventure. He’ll backpack you across the Mazaztals, swim across Roosevelt Lake, raft the Gila, and ride horseback from Florence to Casa Grande… and that’s just the first afternoon.”
Tony nodded. “For Josh a day’s wasted if he doesn’t do something he’s never done before and wind up totally fatigued.”
“Sounds like a real learning experience,” Melody said, doubt in her voice.
“So’s teaching junior highers. We’ll pray the Lord gives you wisdom.”
“Thanks, Dr. S.” Melody bounded for the back door. “I’ll go get chapter one of my new novel. I think it’s ready for your critique.”
“Well,” Tony said, “we’ll get to it as soon as we can.”
“No sweat. Take your time. But I did wonder if we could talk about it tonight when Mom comes for supper. Did I tell you the new title?”
“I don’t think so.” Price scrunched one side of her face in preparation.
“I’m going to call it Out Fox Island Way. Isn’t that cool? It sort of looks like outfoxed. Wait until you read it. Awesome, if I do say so myself.” Melody scooted out the front door.
Tony sat down. “She’s going to stay with us in Scottsdale?”
Price intertwined her fingers and put her hands on top her head. “Here we go again, Mr. Shadowbrook. Every summer we collect a passel of new relationships.”
“But we don’t always bring them home with us.”
“Do you think Melody will ever learn to write?”
“Perhaps, if she slows down, takes her time, pays her dues, finds her niche … and gets a life. Perhaps what she needs is the right project. Meanwhile, I’m starved. What’s for lunch?”
Price followed him into the well-lit kitchen. “Take it easy. Remember, you promised to barbeque steaks tonight.” She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged tight. “Thanks for the back rub.”
Both Tony and Price read Melody’s chapter before she or her mother arrived. After he started the charcoal, Tony popped into the kitchen. “What a
re we going to tell her?”
“The truth.”
“You mean, there’s no way in the world it will be published as is?”
“Not that blunt, of course. You must have liked something.”
“She did a pretty good job describing the girl’s feelings when the car sped out of control and barely missed the tree.”
“Right.” Price jotted a few words down on a pink notepad. “That’s what I thought too. Now, what else?”
Tony scratched his head and pushed his Henley shirt sleeves above his elbows. “That’s about all I can say. How about you? You’ve had more experience critiquing.”
Price sliced tomato wedges into the green salad. “How about the title? Any suggestions?”
“Naming a book is like naming a baby. It’s author’s choice. I don’t think I should give advice on the title.”
“Is it more promising than the other attempt?”
“Definitely more promising.”
Price scribbled again.
Tony wandered into the bedroom and pulled on a blue-and- black Brooks & Dunn shirt with lightning flashes and changed into his full quill ostrich boots. His big silver belt buckle read, “NFR - ’94.” When he returned to the kitchen, Price was hanging up the phone.
“You look mighty sharp, Shadowbrook. Who are you trying to impress? Melody or her mother?”
“Neither. I’m going after that foxy, golden brunette cook.” He kissed her on the back of the neck.
“I take it you’re not mad about chapter five anymore.”
“I’m waiting for a divine miracle about chapter five. Who was on the phone?”
“Sandra Lytoski.”
“Your department head at ASU?”
“She wants me to take another freshman English class. I told her to shuffle the independent study around so I wouldn’t have to come in on Fridays, and I’d do it.”
“Sounds like you struck a deal.”
“Sounds like summer is over. It’s time to think about classes, faculty meetings, grading papers and fighting early morning traffic. By this time next week, we’ll be packing.”
“What time is company expected?”
“That must be them now. Why don’t you go answer the doorbell?”
“I didn’t hear anything.”
“I’ve noticed your hearing’s not too good. You aren’t a young man anymore, Mr. Shadowbrook.”
“I can still catch you.”
“That’s only because I’ve never tried to run away.”
The sky labored under the weight of heavy saturation, as in the far distance, a water wall splayed McNeil Island. Too cool to eat on the deck, the four sat across from each other at the oak dining table in the large front room.
“Barbara, that new haircut is really attractive,” Price said.
“Thanks, but it’s all your fault. You convinced me the Lord would allow me a new start, so I went out and got my hair done and bought new clothes. Being a new person is expensive.”
“You didn’t need to do all that.”
“Yes, she did,” Melody said. “She looks ten years younger, don’t you think?”
Her mother sat up straight. “Now I only look sixty.”
“I agree with Melody,” Tony said. “That style is youthful, but fits you perfectly. You look in your forties.”
Barbara’s eyes sparkled with delight and something close to contentment.
As Price served dessert, Melody blurted out, “Well? What about it, guys? Didn’t chapter one surprise you?”
Tony sipped Branding Iron Brew Cowboy Coffee and waited for Price to join them at the table. As they sliced into a blackberry cheesecake, Tony said, “Well, kid, there’s no question, you’re getting better.”
“See, Mom, I told you it was good. What did you like best, Mr. S.?”
“I’ll tell you what I liked best,” Price broke in. “You did a very good job of describing the girl’s feelings when the car sped out of control and was about to hit that tree. Made me glad about my own airbag. I really felt it came alive.”
“I just added that part yesterday. How about you, Mr. S.? What was your favorite? How about that opening line? A grabber, don’t you think?”
“What was the opening line, dear?” Barbara twisted the shiny rhinestone rings that circled each of her fingers.
Tony looked Melody in the eyes. “I believe it goes this way, ‘Ashley figured even if sea gulls could talk, they wouldn’t have anything worthwhile to say.’”
“Wow, you memorized it,” Melody exclaimed. “But you promised not to use it yourself.”
“I sure did. A very good line, but one suggestion. Consider the name of your protagonist. Ashley at this time in history carries a whole bag of stuffy yuppiedom. Unless she has a dog named Buffy, and a boyfriend called Lance, I’d pick another name.”
“Really? I never thought of that. What do you suggest?”
Tony rolled his eyes at Price in a search for help. “If it were me… with those freckles and all … Julee, J-u-l-e-e.”
Melody frowned. “Sure, maybe so. What about the scene with Ashley… I mean, Julee … and the biker? Where the bridge rips apart in the storm and his bike tumbles into the Narrows and she drags him out of the water with a crab net and nurses him back to health. Doesn’t that grab you?”
“Speaking of bikers,” Price interrupted, “did I see Kenny Mallard in town again?”
“Yeah. I guess he’s been out to Sturgis.”
“South Dakota?” Price said.
“Must be the time for the big Harley Davidson rally,” Tony noted.
“I think that was it. Listen, I need your honest opinion, and I know you haven’t seen the whole story, but on the strength of this first chapter, do you think I can get this book published?”
Tony motioned to Price. “Go ahead, honey, what do you think?”
She kicked Tony under the table. “You know, I have never written fiction. I think Tony is a much better judge. What do you think, dear?”
“I think … you should definitely go ahead and complete the novel.”
“But I thought you said you never wrote the whole work until you had a contract?”
“That’s the way I do it now, but back when I began I had to write the whole thing. Besides, when you get to the end, I’m sure you’ll want to change things a bit. You’ll be surprised how you see things differently.”
“Wow, thanks for the advice, Mr. S.”
Barbara wiped her napkin across what remained of her soft pink lipstick. “I don’t think you’ve answered Melody’s question. Do you think she will be able to make a career out of writing, or has she been wasting her time?”
“Mother!”
Tony took up the challenge. “Melody has the drive and enthusiasm … and she’s learning the skills. But it usually takes a subjective quality, call it divine providence if you want, to write for a living. I can’t second-guess what God is doing in her life.”
Melody’s mother saluted him with her coffee cup. “Spoken like a true politician. Now that we’re through this discussion, I have two announcements. First, I was at the hospital today, and they said they are going to transfer Mother back to the apartments tomorrow. Her recovery is going very well.”
“You went to Tacoma by yourself?” Melody asked.
“I take it you’re astonished?”
“Well… it’s just … you’ve never…”
“And if you think that’s amazing, hold on to your hat. I stopped by and registered to take two art classes at the college this fall. It’s time I finished that degree after all these years.”
“You did what? Mom, really?”
“I have sixty more units to take and I haven’t had a drink in three weeks. I think after thirty-four years, I can do it.”
“What made you decide to do this?” Price asked.
“I heard a voice tell me to do it.”
Melody gawked at her mother. “A voice? Like an angelic announcement?”
“No, it was
more like some middle-aged professor from Arizona saying, ‘Get off your duff and make something of your life before it’s too late.’”
“Proves God can use anything. I was having one of those wonderful menopause days.”
“Well, then, thank God for menopause. Even with this episode with Mother, this is turning out to be a very good summer.”
Price stood and cleared some dishes. “Is your mother in a lot of pain?”
“The meds help, but Mother’s never very happy. Breaking her hip certainly added to her misery.”
“I wish we could have visited more,” Tony added. “She’s such a fascinating, complex person.”
“I would never think of her in such terms,” Barbara said.
“I create characters all the time, so I’m always scouting for interesting personalities. Think about it. She’s an identical twin who grew up on a remote island. She painted creative and haunting pictures of the 1930s. Went to school in Boston. Lost her sister in a car wreck. Discarded art and became reclusive. Lived her life on her home island with one daughter and one granddaughter. Preoccupied with the past. It’s like she refused to go beyond 1942. That reluctance greatly affected all three of you.”
“I suppose,” Barbara mused. “Not to mention a husband lost at sea … or whatever.”
Tony looked at Price, who gently nodded. “Barbara, one of the reasons we wanted you both here for supper is I discovered information about Hubert Reynolds that should be of interest to you.”
“Grandpa?” Melody’s eyes opened wide.
“He didn’t die in a boating accident, did he?” Barbara said.
“I don’t know. Let me tell you all I found.”
The next half hour they pored over the declassified documents. The rest of the evening conversation bounced from runaway men to how war changes people… from broken hips to writing novels … from stuntman sons to midlife college students … and cheesecake recipes.
At 11:00 p.m., Barbara handed a large, oversized manila envelope to Price. “Here is that x-ray copy of my mother’s. If you’d stick it in the black file drawer downstairs, I’d appreciate it. That’s where we keep most of Mom’s important papers. Thanks again for all you’ve done for Melody … and me.”
“Melody has become like a daughter to us this summer,” Tony said.