The Daughter He Never Knew Page 16

  The problem with being a single parent and owning a business was the lack of time for personal thought. Tonight, she had to steal some of that precious commodity. An hour would be sufficient. Or maybe two. Maybe until sunrise. She didn’t know for sure. All she knew was that she could not postpone her decision any longer.

  She placed the folded blanket on the ground and lay back, resting her head upon it, searching the sky for her landmarks. Or skymarks. And there were the Big and Little Dippers. And the North Star. Cassiopeia. How many times had she studied the heavens over the years, wondering if Jason did, too? Had he spent evenings thinking about her, remembering how they used to walk along the beach at night sharing their dreams? Planning their future?

  Don’t think about Jason. Her decision was not about Jason. Her decision concerned her relationship with Adam. She blinked hard, but tears ran from the outer corners of her eyes. She would hurt a lot of people if her judgment was faulty. Adam, certainly. And Sara. Sweet, delicate Sara. Katie, too, but less so now that Jason was in her life. If he stayed, that is.

  Adam was worthy of true love. He was young. Only thirty-four, and although he’d lost his Eileen, perhaps there was another woman out there who could give him her whole heart. Lila was not that woman.

  A weight lifted. She breathed deeply, her body began to relax. Her eyes closed, her tears dried and she drifted. She’d be setting Adam free. And she would be free again, too, her heart bruised but basically intact. She’d make sure it remained that way. Adam deserved more than she could give him, and Jason deserved less.

  She’d go it alone as she’d always done. Her lids fluttered open, and she glimpsed the heavens again. This time, however, the stars seemed distant and cold. Tears trickled once more.

  JASON HAD LEARNED TO SLEEP whenever he had the chance, and he arrived on the West Coast rested, which was a good thing, he decided later that day as he walked into Mitch Berman’s office and saw Luis Torres and the singer’s agent already there. Good vibes floated in the air.

  “Are we having a party?” Jason clapped Luis on the back before he greeted the agent.

  “With the music, we always have a party,” replied Torres, his dark eyes twinkling as though he had a secret.

  Jason became still. “Okay…what’s going on?”

  Mitch turned to the others. “The man writes the title song for an album that just broke all sales records for the first week out, and he doesn’t know what’s going on. You’d think his mind would be on the business….”

  “Wait a minute,” said Jason, turning from one man to the other. “Maybe I have jet lag. What did you say?”

  Mitch walked to a corner of his office and wheeled a cart toward the group. Champagne, flutes, cake and strawberries. “I say, it’s time to celebrate—and make plans.”

  Goose bumps rose on the back of Jason’s neck as he watched Mitch pour the bubbly drink. What plans?

  After handing his guests their glasses, Mitch glanced at Jason. “I’ve got yours here.” He pulled out a 7-Up, poured it and added a strawberry.

  “Here’s to future collaborations,” said Mitch.

  Jason raised his glass as the image of Lila sprang to mind. He could think of many ways to collaborate with her! And then he wondered if he were chasing an impossible dream.

  “I’m taking the album on tour,” said Luis, looking at Jason as he took his seat again. “For a year.”

  Jason put down his glass and shook his head. “I’m not going.”

  Luis grinned. “Don’t want you to go.” He looked at his agent. “Tell him what we want.”

  The man steepled his fingers and looked up at Jason from under bushy eyebrows. “Give us an album, J.J. Love songs. The sweet. The sexy. The romantic and the unrequited. Put in a Latin beat. Try a rhythm-and-blues style. Evoke the French chanson if you want. Mix it up. Just make sure it’s all about love between a man and a woman.”

  His head swam. This was an unheard-of opportunity for a writer in the first blush of a career. A real jump start with the accompanying rewards, growth in reputation and bank account. Maybe he could pay off his mortgage quickly. Help Matt with his. He looked at Mitch. “What about Disney?”

  “I’ve got the script notes right here. But they need an answer by next week. We’ll talk later.” He nodded toward their guests. Some discussions would be private.

  “And Celine Dion? Have you heard from her agent? Or is it too soon?”

  Mitch’s wide smile gave away the news. “She likes it. Wants to record it on her next CD.”

  It was too much at once, being surrounded by good offers and good results. And all because of Lila’s song. As though from a distance he heard Luis joke, “The writer just lost his words.”

  “Merely trying to absorb,” said Jason.

  “There is just one little thing,” began Mitch. “And you won’t like it.”

  “Ah,” said Jason, taking a seat and leaning back. “Now this is more what I’m used to. Problems.”

  His cell phone rang.

  “Let it go,” said Mitch.

  Jason glanced at the caller ID. “Not on your life.” He picked it up. “Hello, sweetheart. I’m right here just like I said.”

  He saw the interested gleams Luis and Mitch had in their eyes when they looked at him, then at each other.

  “It’s my daughter,” clarified Jason, taking Katie’s picture out of his wallet. “What’s up, Lady Katie?”

  He listened for a moment. “You did? You and Casey? Okay. Play it for me. Put the phone on top of the piano. I’ll hear it.”

  He shrugged in apology at the others. “First things first,” he said. Then he began to listen, and like the first time he’d heard the kids play, goose bumps prickled his arms.

  “Wasn’t that better?” asked Katie afterward. “We built a real bridge between the songs for the Memorial Day show, didn’t we?”

  He laughed, and his heart filled with pride. “More beautiful than the Golden Gate, baby.”

  “Grandpa Sam said it was the best we ever did.”

  Jason turned to Mitch. “Is that a speaker phone?”

  Mitch nodded.

  “Put Grandpa on, Katie, and you and Casey stick around. I want to hear it again on a bigger phone.”

  A minute later Mitch’s landline rang. “Take it from the top, kids,” said Jason, looking around the room. “You’re in for a four-hand treat, my friends. My daughter and nephew.”

  He looked at their interested faces while the music came over the speaker, and although the sound quality was deficient, Jason basked in their expressions of amazement, in their compliments later after he’d praised both children again and said goodbye to them.

  “What goes on in that town of yours?” asked Luis’s agent. “Maybe we should send a scout?”

  Jason laughed out loud. “Not necessary. Your scout would wind up on the Parker family’s doorstep.” He turned toward Luis and then Mitch. “After listening to you guys brag about your kids all these years, I just had to show mine off, too.” He paused. “Katie is just unbelievable. And being a dad…well, it’s early days yet, but…wow, there’s nothing like it. And now that I’ve bought a house, she’ll be staying with me sometimes….”

  Mitch cleared his throat. “So you actually bought a house?”

  “I sure did. Told you I was relocating to Pilgrim Cove.”

  Mitch sighed and shook his head. “That was too quick. A bad idea…at least for now,” he amended. “There’s a lot on your plate.”

  The room became quiet. Jason searched the faces in front of him. He knew what they were thinking. Although Luis would be on tour, he’d grab days back home in Los Angeles when he could. Having J. J. Parks on hand would be the only way to touch base musically.

  And if Disney studios liked his work, they’d want him available when the time came. There was a lot of material to coordinate when making a movie. A lot of people to work with, and they were all in California. He understood that. He also knew that if he was labeled as uncoo
perative, he’d be jeopardizing relationships with both performing artists and studios. “We love his work, but…” Performers were expected to be high maintenance, but musicians had better be available and have their work in on time.

  Visions of eliminating debt for everyone in his family vanished quickly. Jason was not in the position to call the shots here, which was ironic considering that he produced what Luis sang. But there were thousands of talented composers on both coasts writing their hearts out.

  You and I can do anything. We’re the best. Jared’s voice echoed in his mind. Jared, always more confident than Jason, more adventurous. But not more talented. And neither was Jason’s competition.

  Jason stood up and faced the room. “When you decide that you want the best in the business, feel free to call me in Pilgrim Cove.”

  He walked out the door and, too impatient to wait for an elevator, jogged down the five flights of stairs in the office building to the basement garage. As he headed for his apartment to pack it up, the reality of what he’d done sank in. He’d just made the biggest bet of his life. He’d put everything on the line and taken a huge professional gamble. Huge. But, he wasn’t sorry about it. If the singer and the studio couldn’t deal with him living on the East Coast, then he’d write for someone else. New York was a mecca. Or he’d find another way to earn a living.

  It seemed he had a habit of putting himself in risky situations. He thought of Lila. What if she didn’t come to her senses? What if she decided to marry Fielding after all? Then what? Would he be able to stand aside and watch them as a family even for Katie’s sake? The thought made him grimace, and he shoved the idea away, as he’d done before. He’d handle it. Somehow, he’d figure it out.

  There was always the possibility, however, he could end up with no contracts and no Lila.

  JASON HAD PACKED BOXES, given some stuff away, cleaned the apartment and slept like a baby on the night flight home. He’d arranged for his car to be driven east, and was content with his accomplishments. He was back in Sea View House by mid-morning on Thursday and planned to pick up Katie and Casey at school at three o’clock.

  Since the would-be celebratory meeting, he’d gotten one phone call from Mitch Berman telling him to “hang tight.” Jason had shrugged. His heart’s desire was in Pilgrim Cove, and if he had to… Well, his hands had pounded many a nail for the family’s business while he was growing up. He’d find a way to earn a living in construction if needed.

  Or he could play in piano bars again. J. J. Parks earned good money in personal lounge appearances at hotels, in clubs or even on Mississippi riverboats. Of course, traveling the river was out of the question now.

  And then…niggling in the back of his mind…there was the path Jared had always wanted them to go. Writing and performing their own music. Billy Joel plus Elton John, except more unique. Jason and Jared. A double dose of whatever talent they had inside of them.

  But Jason hadn’t agreed with his brother’s plan. At eighteen, he and Lila had made their own plans. First, college together, then get married and raise a family. He would have enjoyed his music on the side. He would’ve kept writing, but he’d have let Jared do the performing.

  His twin, however, had been furious. Couldn’t understand it. Called Jason a coward, afraid to leave Pilgrim Cove. Jared had been angry with Lila, as well. Thought she was keeping his brother down. Jason had said some bad things, too. Their senior year had been hard, fraught with conflict because change was coming. Childhood was over.

  He understood all that now. At the time, their testosterone did the talking. And on the night of their prom, their hormones shouted. Everyone’s future was in place. No more wiggle room. He and Lila had enrolled in school. Jared was going to New York City—alone. Edgy. Disappointed.

  When the memories of that night threatened to overwhelm him, Jason did what he was accustomed to doing. He called for help. He picked up the phone in Sea View House, but instead of dialing a counselor, he called Rachel Goodman-Levine at the high school. She answered after only one ring.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t have time for us,” she said after greeting him warmly.

  “On the contrary. Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing at the moment than helping Pilgrim Cove students stay safe next week. Tell me about Jane Fisher’s twin daughters.”

  If she thought it an odd request, she didn’t let on. Jason absorbed the information and promised to call her back the next day when he had his ideas on paper.

  Before he had a chance to call Lila and let her know he was back, his cell phone rang. He recognized Mitch’s voice.

  “You pay me for advice as well as for opportunity, so listen up. When are you going to break out on your own and become a true self-contained artist?”

  Mitch Berman on a mission.

  “Is this what you meant by ‘hanging tight’?” asked Jason. “Or is this the ‘lecture for your own good’ I hear coming?”

  “What are you afraid of?” the agent continued. “If you want more control over your time and your work, then write and record your own stuff. We’ll get you on any record label you want. After ‘The Water’s Edge,’ publishers will be beating down your door. You can almost write your own deal.”

  First Jared. Now Mitch. With their big-time dreams. Mitch blasted into his ear again. “What’s to stop you? You’ll write hits and make more money than you can spend. You’ll have respect, fame. You’ll be a celebrity.”

  Jason grimaced. “Jared wanted that part of it,” he said in a sharp tone. “I didn’t. I just wanted to compose the music.”

  “Well, your brother’s not here,” Mitch retorted. “And you are! With enough talent for the two of you. So what are you going to do about it?”

  “Do about it? How can I steal my brother’s dream?” His voice exploded with pain. “What you’re talking about is what he wanted so much…that he died for it. And now you want me to waltz on in and take it from him?” Jared died and Jason lived. Mitch didn’t know what it meant to be the survivor.

  “I thought all that guilt crap was behind you.”

  He would have laughed if he could. Mitch was being Mitch. Instead Jason started to pace. “It only comes back when I talk to you! When I start to think about changing my career path—bringing it to new levels.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Jason. Now, you…have…got…to…listen to me. And trust me.” The agent slowed his words and delivered them with punch. “If you don’t use all your God-given talent, talent that anyone else would kill for, you’ll either explode or shrivel up. Or worse—you’ll become a bitter man. I’ve been around a long time, kid. I’ve seen self-destruction in many forms when so big a gift is discarded whether from fear of success or fear of failure. You’ve tasted that fear already.

  “I know you’ve been to hell and back,” the agent continued calmly, “but you’re a better writer because of the trip. On the other hand, the detour cost you time, and you’re getting a late start. You’ve got to act now if J. J. Parks is to go forward and join the ranks of the single names in contemporary music. It’s totally up to you. So think about it and call me.” He clicked off. Just a gentle click. Hardly like Mitch Berman’s usual style.

  Jason tapped the recall button. The number barely rang before he heard his agent’s voice.

  “You’ve got something important to say?” Anxiety. Impatience. Concern. Hope. The emotional mixture hit Jason’s sensitive ear.

  “I’ve got five thick binders. Filled.”

  Silence. Deep and quiet. Then Mitch started to laugh. Warm and joyous. “Only five, Jason? Well, it’s a start!”

  A new start. He’d allow himself that much. He walked to the kitchen and stepped onto the back porch, inhaling the ocean breeze, reveling in the warm sun, enjoying the clean sweep of the sand and sea. The water’s edge. Just as he’d remembered it.

  Peace entered his soul. It had taken a long time—fits and starts—to turn his back on the haunting guilt and become his own man. He was Jason
Parker. And when he recorded under the name J. J. Parks, it would be to honor his brother’s memory, not to assuage his own guilt by trying to keep Jared alive. He allowed his tears to fall. They felt damn good.

  And now, more decisions. Which songs to pull first for the demos he’d make. Just him and the piano. Later, when it was time to structure the first album, he could figure out the tracks for the backup instruments.

  Chills ran through him. His first album! He smiled and raised his arms in victory. Yes!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  FIRST, HE’D OUTLINED his ideas for the high-school program, then he retrieved his notebooks, played through one of them, and realized he’d need some help selecting material. He went into the kitchen to call his brother at the store and simply asked if he and Sam would be available that evening for a guest.

  Matt exploded. “You’re not a guest, for crying out loud! You’re my brother! Get yourself to the house for dinner.” Then he slammed the phone down, leaving Jason with a buzzing dial tone. When had Matt gotten so bossy? Or was it his way of saying that Jason had not spent enough time with the family?

  He called the store again. “I’m sorry, Matt, but I promise you that by the time I’m done, you and Pop are going to think I’m a piece of furniture in your house.”

  “Uh…I think we can take it, bro.”

  When he hung up, the phone rang immediately. At this rate, he’d never get anything else done.

  “Bartholomew Quinn here, Jason.”

  “Bart? What’s up? Is something wrong with my new house?”

  “No, no. Everything’s fine there. But you need to know about Lila, and I’m the one to tell you.”

  Jason’s heart thudded. The old man wouldn’t be calling unless something bad had happened. “What happened? Is she hurt? Where is she? I’m on my way. Talk to me.”