Sing to Me

by Unknown

  “I don’t . . . know.” Neal breathed the last word. The frown slowly returned, and he glanced aside in thought. “She said some things the last time we were together,” he said. “Things I know she wasn’t aware had any effect on me yet made me so angry I wanted to –.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head, not wanting to think anything bad about Liv. “I could never say or do anything to upset her, though. She’s innocent and has no idea what I’ve been through. Still, as angry as I was, it took less than five minutes to get over it and want to rush back to her and continue to beg her to see reason.”

  “You didn’t, though?”

  “No,” Neal grumbled and started for a sofa in the next room.

  After he had left Liv’s place, Neal had found his SUV with the keys in the ignition parked in the driveway. His wallet was inside the box of clothing Xalan had apparently left for him, too. The tan slacks, a gold silk short-sleeve shirt, and leather flip flops not only weren’t Neal’s style, but out of season as well as being tacky. The obviously deliberate choice of ensemble screamed 1980s and made Neal seem as uncomfortable as he felt. Despite the ugly attire, before he had started for the airport, he had dropped in at the State Police station to see Stevens about Sherry’s boyfriend.

  “There’s not much I can do, Neal,” Stevens had admitted while trying not to say anything derogatory about Neal’s choice of clothing. “Still, it might work to have a trooper show up at his door for no other reason than to warn him not to get any funny ideas about breaking a cute woman’s heart again.”

  Stevens’s attempt at humor had made Neal smile; glad to know the guy was willing to help out. Shortly after Neal had arrived in Los Angeles, the trooper had phoned to say the ruse had worked and that Sherry’s ex appeared to be shaken by the visit. “Hopefully,” Stevens had said with humor in his tone, “he won’t be sniffing around Liv’s friend anymore.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Neal’s mother said, snapping him out of his thoughts. She sat with him on the sofa, smiling maternally and brushing aside his bangs. After patting his cheek, she said, “You’ve always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion, Neal. Nothing is ever really as bad as it seems, and I’m not accusing you of being negative, but . . . try not to think too hard. When she’s ready, she’ll let you know. In the meantime, why not just keep doing whatever it is you’re doing to help her see things your way?”

  Neal sighed before cupping his hands atop his head. “I will,” he said. “It’s what I’ve been doing, but I’d like more than just great sex from her.”

  His mother’s gasp of fake shock made them both laugh.

  “Neal,” she said after curling up beside him and resting at his shoulder, “maybe it’s time you had a real talk with your father.”

  “What on earth for?” Neal whined, making a sour face that got him swatted on the knee.

  “Because I think part of your problem is that you’ve been carrying a lot of old baggage around for too long. Sometimes it helps to clear the air so that we’re better able to see the big picture, which happens to be your life and future. All this unresolved anger bottled up so tightly inside you can’t be helping with your relationship goals, darling. Maybe if you talked to the man and got some answers to the things that truly upset you as a child, you might be able to figure out just what needs to be done to win this woman’s heart.”

  “By talking to a man who has no concept of responsibility?”

  He laughed when she hit his leg again, and then he pressed his lips against the side of her head, quietly apologizing for being arrogant.

  “I get what you’re trying to say, Mum,” he grumbled before letting out an exasperated sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

  Before he left his mother’s house, Neal had fixed a minor leak under the kitchen sink, tightened the bolts on a creaking door to the den, and replaced two light bulbs in the master bath. Like always, his mother found a twenty beneath a small lamp inside her bedroom and it made her cry. From the time he got his first job at age ten, Neal had always set aside everything from pocket change to a few quid, and his mother would always find that money somewhere in her room. It was Neal’s way of saying he loved her and would always take care of her.

  “You’re such a darling boy,” his mother whispered. With a heavy sigh, she slid the money inside a purse that hung on the doorknob. Smiling, she mused, “I’d like to meet this girl you’re so crazy about and see if there isn’t some way to make her change her mind about you.”

  Chapter 21

  Liv’s visit to Hungary had its good and bad points, but during the flight back home, she realized how foolish she had been to worry about the unknown. Her family had lived in a small town outside Bucharest where time seemed to have stood still. It was part of what fascinated her so much about Europe, liking that some things just didn’t need to change and that roads, buildings, and even customs remained intact for millennia.

  There might be aliens back in Michigan, but in Europe, ghosts would definitely abound.

  She had met with her biological family, learning beforehand from Mrs. Barnes that there were three older brothers who were anxious to meet her. They were tall, thin, and attractive, with blonde hair and light green eyes like Liv, though the oldest brother’s eyes were hazel. Each was a minor success as well, with the oldest being a dairy farmer, the middle brother working as an architect, and the youngest brother, just three years older than Liv, had been a model before going on to work in broadcasting.

  They had met her at the airport, and for them it was like welcoming home a close relative after only a few years. It had amused and touched Liv to have felt that they had always been a part of her life and wanted to pick up where they had left off, though Liv wasn’t able to remember anything at all about them.

  After visiting with her oldest brother’s family and meeting the young boy whom Neal had helped to save, the three brothers took Liv on a tour of the capitol, and surrounding areas while also filling her in on the details of her disappearance and its subsequent affect on the family.

  She was told that their father had been a successful and highly respected physician who commuted to Bucharest to work in a hospital. It was where he met the woman who ended up raising Liv.

  According to her brothers, their father was deeply in love with their mother and would never have risked losing her to infidelity. Still, the woman Liv had believed was her mother had fallen in love with him and tried everything she could to make him see things her way.

  Liv was shocked to discover, too, that the man she had assumed was her father turned out to be the woman’s cousin. At least now it made sense why they were able to bicker, argue, and hurt one another without really feeling the pain since it wasn’t real love that kept them together. It was more of a familial relationship based on need and mutual guilt. It also explained why they had never shared a bed in all the years they were together, too.

  “We had all come to Bucharest that day,” her oldest brother had said. “There was a park across from the hospital, and we were supposed to be in charge of you.”

  Liv still felt his shared guilt in those words, and she had tried desperately to reassure them all that she held no ill will against any of them. At least she could say with certainty that they had managed to move on, though the same couldn’t be said for her parents. After Liv had been kidnapped, the marriage began to dissolve. Their mother wasn’t able to cope with the loss any more than she could accept the reason being her husband’s deranged stalker.

  “Father stayed strong for the family, but mother fell apart slowly,” the eldest had explained. “They remained together, but things were never the same after you disappeared. By the time we heard from your attorney, mother had passed away from a weak heart and father had turned to the bottle. He died about four years ago.”

  Aboard the plane, Liv sniffed at the sad memory of her mature brothers smiling at her as they weaved such an incredible tale for her startled ears and melting heart t
o take in at once. It now shamed her to realize how well adjusted they had become despite it all while she remained immature and locked inside herself; terrified to actually live her life the way it was meant to be lived.

  “It’s because of me that everyone was made to suffer,” she had tearfully admitted and then been startled into regret by the three brothers’ boisterous refusal to accept her remark as being true. Again, they had smiled, laughed, patted her on the back, and assured her that she wasn’t to blame for anything at all.

  “Things happen for a reason,” the youngest brother had said. “We can’t always know why, though. What’s important is right now. We found you, you helped save our nephew, and we’re together again.”

  The middle brother hadn’t said much of anything, which had made Liv curious about him. Was he the brooding type who tended to think too much, like her? According to them, she resembled their mother while the boys took after their father. That information had helped Liv to gain better perspective of her real parents. Then they had shown her pictures from before Liv was even born.

  “Happier times,” her oldest brother had said about the smiling couple and their three, young sons in a family portrait. Their parents were attractive, and Liv was able to see where she got her apple cheeks, small nose, and thin smile from – her mother.

  The middle brother had stood wriggling an ankle the way Liv tended to do while thinking or in a fit of nerves. His gaze had narrowed on something just beyond the youngest brother as they waited to be seated at an outdoor bistro.

  Shortly after placing their orders, the middle brother spoke, asking Liv if she happened to know the gentleman who stood across the street. Turning, Liv had been startled to see Neal on the corner holding a magazine and leaning casually against a beautiful, gray brick building while dozens of pedestrians filed past in either direction.

  “He’s been watching us since we got here,” the middle brother had informed, sounding slightly annoyed and appearing to be a bit too cautious to Liv. She felt embarrassed for about ten seconds when it had dawned on her that they needed to meet the man who had saved her nephew’s life. Rising from her chair, she waved both arms to get Neal’s attention. Right away Neal pushed away from the building and started across the street.

  Liv had ignored Neal’s dark glower and smiled shyly as she introduce him to her brothers. The darkness slowly faded from Neal’s face as he shook their hands. Liv had felt too relieved to see him again to let his overly possessive nature stand in the way of the excitement she felt at that moment.

  While explaining about Neal’s part in the boy’s recovery, the youngest brother had seemed more impressed by Neal’s pop status than his having donated bone marrow.

  The oldest brother, however, had left his chair to hug and kiss Neal on both cheeks. He shook Neal’s hand vigorously before he had wrapped an arm about Neal’s broad shoulders, inviting him to join them at the small table.

  The middle brother had eyed Liv with as much uncertainty as he had curiosity about her true feelings. She spoke fluent Hungarian and had giggled when the middle brother asked who Neal was to her on a personal level.

  “I’m madly in love,” she had told him. “I get stupid whenever he’s around, it’s that bad. But, he’s famous, and he’s been with lots of pretty, well-known women. He’s Hollywood, and I’m not. As selfish as this is starting to sound, I just don’t like the idea of becoming a statistic. Not with him. It would hurt beyond repair if he ever stepped out on me. I’m too chicken to take that chance, too.”

  Neal had frowned as he volleyed between the two, wanting to know what was being said that seemed to make the other two brothers scrutinize him while the middle brother continued to smile self-satisfactorily at Liv’s every word.

  “I like him,” the youngest brother had remarked while he continued to smile at Neal. “This sounds a bit like our parents, too. Father never did anything to warrant suspicion, and yet his life was ruined because of it.”

  “I’m indebted to him,” the oldest had told Liv, appearing as meek as he sounded. “Still, I won’t let that interfere with your personal feelings for or against him, kishúga.”

  The term of endearment he had used to refer to her as little sister now reminded Liv that her real name was Livonia and not Olivia, as she had always assumed. She was four at the time of her kidnapping, which meant she was actually a year older than she thought, too.

  Her oldest brother had kept all of her papers for her and had given them to her soon after she arrived. A birth certificate, hospital records, and a few pictures of her in infancy.

  The four siblings and Neal had ended up spending a few hours together that afternoon, and the subject of their reluctant relationship was never mentioned again. Afterward, Liv had decided to return with Neal to his hotel. Even if he was thinking sex or perhaps to argue some more, all she wanted to do was hold him. Fortunately, Neal held her in return and hadn’t asked a lot of nosy questions about her reunion.

  “I was worried,” Neal had said while she quietly wept in his arms. “I’m sorry if it seems like I’m stalking you, but you know what I’ve been through so please don’t get the wrong idea.”

  It had been the only time Liv had laughed while she was alone with Neal. She hadn’t wanted to talk or try to analyze her feelings and just needed him to be there for her. She was grateful to him for being so nosy and wanting to protect her from harm. The thought of his being a stalker had never crossed her mind.

  She had shed tears that she apologized for, and later that evening they ate together inside the room before she returned to her oldest brother’s farm. Having wanted to spend time with Neal hadn’t won out over her desire to spend the last few days together with her family before heading back home.

  My silly knight in hipster armor,” Liv whispered aboard the plane, trying hard not to laugh aloud or even smile and risk attracting the attention of nearby passengers. It hasn’t been that long and yet I can’t seem to imagine my life without you in it now, she thought, able to smile as she gazed out a window. I know I could love you deeply, Neal. If only you were someone else. Someone less significant and not so well known. And yet.–.

  She paused her thoughts to listen to the pilot tell them that they were landing at Heathrow due to engine trouble.

  Chapter 22

  IN LONDON, Neal arrived at his father’s stately manor home outside the big city on a cool, gray afternoon in late September. He had just left Liv back in Bucharest and would really rather have stayed with her than be where he was at that moment.

  With a heavy sigh, he exited the taxi that dropped him off in front of his father’s home. His eyes narrowed as he gazed up at the tall, broad columns in front of the double-door entrance. A flight of stairs led up to those doors, and before he had time to knock, one of them opened. An elderly gentleman in a dark, formal suit bowed before opening the door all the way to allow Neal entry.

  “Sir,” the butler said as he waited for Neal to hand him his black wool coat. “Master Peyton will see you in the study. Allow me.” And after setting the coat over an arm, the butler led Neal through a large, open foyer to an arched opening on their right.

  Neal glanced at the half-spiral staircase to his left that led to the private rooms on the second floor. The outer wall of windows let in enough light to make him forget how gloomy the day actually was outdoors. Marble tile underfoot and plenty of gold gilding everywhere spelled pretentious and stuffy; two of many paternal qualities Neal wanted to avoid falling for with the amount of wealth he had accumulated over time.

  Despite his having argued long and hard with his mother about not wanting to have anything to do with his father, young Neal had ended up living with James Peyton for several years. He had been removed from the inner-city school system and enrolled in a private school as well as having private tutors during breaks. His natural music ability was underscored, a love and natural ability for rugby was discovered, and new friends meant a chance to broaden horizons Neal had only ev
er dreamed of prior to having met his real father.

  The girls, too. The pretty, proper girls Neal had met through those uppity, prejudice boys who so easily accepted him as their friend had treated him like a dangerous threat to their virginity. Those girls had swarmed him trying to lose that virginity, and Neal had been too startled by their forward attempts to give them the pleasure they had so desperately sought.

  His hair had been too long, thick, and bushy compared to the other boys, he spoke with an East End accent and slang, and he sported a small dragon tattoo on the underside of his right forearm. That he happened to be the illegitimate son of a famous musician only added interest to his natural appeal.

  Neal had become a star long before actually obtaining real stardom. He had lost his virginity at thirteen, but not before getting his hands on enough condoms to last a month. In his case, however, they managed to hold out for a week before he had to figure out a way to buy more without asking his father for money.

  There were no jobs for young people of his new status, and it didn’t take long for homesickness to set in. He missed his mother and worried that she would leave London and him for good.

  After nearly five years, she returned for Neal when she got engaged to John and they moved to Toronto before permanently relocating to Los Angeles.

  Inside the study, James Peyton sat with a leg across a knee on a garish, silver throne upholstered in purple velvet. He looked up from a newspaper set in his lap and held a glass of cognac in his free hand, which was laden with large, expensive jewels. The man in his early sixties still had dark brown hair with just a few strands of gray and hardly any wrinkles to hint at his actual age. He used eyes nearly identical to Neal’s to stare at his son with inquiry.

  “Well,” James said in his refined, BBC tone. “To what do I owe this unexpected visit?”