Love Notes Page 20

  He felt and forced every adjustment that should have been unconscious. But the jogging was killing him. If he didn’t concentrate, down he went. Whatever motor memory he might have had was gone. The doctor made it clear there were three options: find it, re-create it, or live without.

  TJ didn’t think the third was much of an option, but either of the other two would be fine with him. When he’d asked the doctors how to do it, they almost looked at each other and shrugged comic book style. Of the people who’d done it, no one was sure how. They just had.

  So TJ opted for the show-up-regularly-and-throw-yourself-face-first-at-the-track method. With a sigh he picked himself up and dusted off, starting at a walk again. His goal today was to jog a hundred meters without smacking asphalt. The first five tries had all ended the same.

  He decided not to even walk the whole loop now. And he just doubled back to the starting line on the inside track, the only place he could accurately measure his hundred meters from.

  Only thing was, when he turned around, he was now facing Norah. For the tiniest of moments, she looked up at him and their eyes held. Almost as quickly, she looked away, jogging past.

  She was going longer distances now than she had when she started. Not that she needed to.

  TJ lined himself up an extra ten meters beyond the start line, walking his way up to it and picking up the jog as he went. He seemed to be having trouble starting. This time he made it about fifty meters before he hit ground.

  He turned around and walked back.

  This time Norah passed him, and damn if he didn’t just glance at her hair, and smack! Hard ground came up to meet him. He sat there with his head in his hands for a minute, realizing what he’d done. He’d distracted himself, and it was with Norah.

  He shook it off and tried again, and again smacked down.

  This time Norah was up ahead of him taking a breather, and he walked up, noticed her stiffen as he approached. “Why are you here, Norah?”

  She was still breathing heavily and it took her a second to respond.

  So TJ took it out on her. “I get it. You can jog and I can’t. Point made. Go home.”

  She held up her hand and spoke between still strained breaths. “Just wanted . . . to be sure . . . you’re safe.”

  “I’m good.” TJ turned and headed back to the start line, wondering why he’d even started the conversation.

  Her voice followed him. “I told Tim I’d do it.”

  “Oh,” He turned back, wondering why she still had the power to stick knives in him. “So it’s about Tim now.”

  She rolled her eyes and jogged off. He hated it, watching her go from a standstill to a leap into a steady pace. A move he couldn’t pull off.

  He went back to the start line and managed to throw himself at the ground twice before she made it back around. He was on his hands and knees when she approached. He called out. “You going to follow me home again today?”

  “Yes.” It was all she said as she went by, but he was happy to see that she almost missed a step there. But, of course, even that didn’t make her fall.

  It took three more tries, but he’d developed a will of steel. He maintained his concentration, thinking about each foot getting off the ground. He was ten yards from his goal when Norah passed him. He paid no attention.

  Until her sneakers planted themselves right beside him.

  He jogged past.

  Her voice shattered his concentration. “I’m sorry.”

  He went down.

  Son of a bitch.

  He sat back on the black surface that was getting warmer as the day progressed. “Don’t be sorry, just keep your mouth shut. I was five meters away.” With an open hand he gestured to the painted white line that marked the end of the dash. Not that he’d been dashing it.

  Her feet came closer, but he didn’t look up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you fall. I meant I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  He was not hearing this.

  Not here, sitting on his ass, looking at her sneakers.

  Her voice carried again. “It was a mistake. A big one. I should have told you.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Damn right, you should have.”

  For a moment the sneakers didn’t move, then she got the hint and jogged away.

  He gave it one more try, and finally made the full hundred meters, collapsing as he went over the end line. This time he sat on the rough surface happy as a little clam.

  TJ picked himself up and headed home.

  This time Norah followed at a less discreet distance.

  Chapter 39

  TJ rode the elevator up at the HeartBeats studios. No one was on the schedule for today, so he’d have the room to himself. He’d gone to the track again this morning, even though it wasn’t his day.

  He smacked the ground repeatedly, but made the hundred meters with far fewer tries, then even managed to get one time around the track in a jog, with only one stumble. He was proud that he hadn’t gone down. Somehow he managed to untangle his disobedient feet before they completely defied him.

  When he’d come back around he’d called it quits early, and was somewhat surprised to see Norah’s car behind him on the drive home. She followed him only to the gate, maybe figuring he was safe there. Maybe she forgot she was on the list. Or maybe she had figured he’d taken her off. He hadn’t gotten around to it.

  Whatever it was, she turned around without entering and headed away.

  TJ had spent the later half of the morning at his own house. But the inspiration to be what he had been wasn’t there. So here he was walking the silent hallway, and pushing open the heavy studio door.

  Sound blasted out at him, momentarily drowning everything out, even his thoughts. He pulled the door closed, thinking that ironically he’d made his way back from grave injury, only to be deafened by one of his band mates.

  Craig was letting out his crazy side in there. And he hadn’t even seen TJ. That was how Craig composed the harder stuff, and TJ knew better than to mess with it.

  Only now he didn’t have a studio.

  Since he couldn’t do the rest of what he wanted, he headed up another floor to see Brenda.

  Her door was already partway open when he got there, her secretary having just waved him by, putting her finger to her lips. TJ nodded and pushed his way in quietly, Brenda was on a call, but motioned for him to take a seat.

  He wanted to, but it only lasted a second. On his feet again, he prowled the office while she talked. There were pictures wallpapering every non-window surface. He spotted one of the original Wilder posters that Kelsey made. God, they all looked so young.

  There were other singers and groups up there. Some wildly famous, some getting there, some already been and gone. She had wedding photos of all sorts of people he worked with. JD and Kelsey were there, and another of them with five kids. That one needed updating. But a separate little photo of newborn Baby Amy was tacked right beside it. Alex and a very pregnant Bridget were up there, with Olivia in their arms. Another with himself and Craig, arms slung around each other. A candid photo at Hailey Watkins’ wedding, with Craig and Shay both in the background—the day they’d met.

  Her voice from behind him startled him. “I should have known you wouldn’t sit well these days. Done enough of it?”

  “For a lifetime.”

  She perched on the edge of her desk. “What do you need?” Her head tilted, perfectly cut brown hair swaying as she moved. She was a very attractive woman for being so much older than he was. He was surprised he only just now noticed that. He’d known her for years.

  He sighed. “I sucked the other night.”

  “Really?” She seemed impressed. Although whether it was because he’d sucked or because he’d admitted it, he didn’t know. “I’ve never heard of you having issues before. Was it neural?”

  He laughed at that one. “Yes! But not my spinal cord. My brain. I just . . . I don’t know. I lost whatever I had.”

  S
he looked at him square. “Are you telling me to cancel tour dates, or are you going to get it back?”

  “Hell, yes, I’m getting it back.” The determination in his tone surprised even him. “That’s what I came up about. I haven’t asked the guys yet, I just wanted to know if it was a possibility, but I wanted to ask you . . .”

  She didn’t tell him to spit it out, she just sat patiently, one of Brenda’s greatest strengths.

  “Can we play more local dates? Soon? I’ve got to get up in Central Park for that Queen concert and I’ve got to be ready.” He hadn’t meant to sound so desperate.

  Brenda’s answering smile was all he needed. “Consider it done.”

  “Thank you.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You’ve always understood and worked with us.”

  She didn’t respond, so he kept going. “When Alex needed time because Bridget’s second pregnancy wasn’t going well, and this,” He gestured to his legs. “This was my own fault. Even back when we hadn’t made a penny for you, you worked around JD’s schedule with his daughter. Thank you.”

  She looked at him askance. “You do know why the four of us founded HeartBeats, don’t you?”

  Sure he did. “You wanted to be a bigger fish in a smaller pond.” He instantly tasted shoe and scrambled to correct it. “That didn’t come out right. You needed more control than the big labels were giving you.”

  Brenda nodded. “I thought so. All this time you missed the point.”

  TJ waited for her to give it to him.

  With a smile she leaned back against her desk, her arms folded. “Eight years ago I got confused about my son’s birthday present. He’d said what he wanted, and I mis-heard it. So I went out and got what I thought he said. The problem was, I was so far off base, and I didn’t even know it. He was seven years old and I didn’t know him well enough to know that.

  “I’d been too busy with my job. I didn’t know either of my sons. I was just cranking out stars. I lived in a big house that I realized I hated. Didn’t know my neighbors. My husband was on the verge of divorcing me, and I think he was in the right. When I took a good look around, I realized nobody was happy. So I left. We founded HeartBeats with the idea that we’d do good work and show up at our kids’ birthday parties.” She waved her hand at him, before continuing.

  “So you do whatever you have to to find what you need. We’re behind you. There’s plenty of money here. If Wilder breaks up, then it was a hell of a great run—”

  He jerked back at that. “Wilder isn’t breaking up.”

  “Glad to hear it. But you’ve done nothing but perform and party for years now. I’m sorry it caught up to you. So you go get yourself together. We’ll wait while you get the girl.”

  He shook his head. “It is not about a girl.”

  She laughed at him. “Methinks thou doth protest too much.”

  He couldn’t stay mad. He tried to. “All right, part of it’s about a girl. Part of it’s about learning to walk again.”

  Her eyebrows rose up, “In more ways than one?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah.”

  Brenda went around her desk and started scribbling some notes to herself. She pulled out her purse and shoved the notes in it. “I’ll get on those extra dates in a bit. I have to go see my youngest in his kindergarten play. Walk me out?”

  TJ followed, asking what she’d done when she realized she hated her house. He’d been having much the same thoughts. She laughed and said she’d sold the thing to someone just like she’d been, more concerned about the prestige of the neighborhood than being comfortable, and she’d let it go for a hefty profit.

  He climbed into the new Mercedes at the curb and drove to his house. He stayed in the driveway for just a moment, really looking at the thing. He didn’t really like the arches. And there was no yard.

  He let himself in the front door and remembered Norah’s mouth hanging open at the fountain. It was too much.

  He opened the drawer on the far right side of the kitchen. The real estate agent had put her card there, telling him she was starting his ‘junk drawer’. There were two pencils and the card just rattling around. TJ called the agent and put the house on the market. Fifteen minutes later he cut the woman off and hung up on her, thanking her quickly.

  He shook his head a little, realizing that he suddenly felt a bit more free.

  Winding his way into the living room, and realizing that he’d done zero living in there, he scrounged through his music. Quickly pulling up Queen’s Greatest Hits, he thought he’d listen and re-learn the words. He hit the play button then punched another series of buttons piping the music through the entire house.

  TJ wandered the house, cataloging what he was going to take with him when he moved, and what he wasn’t. As We Will Rock You segued smoothly into We Are the Champions, TJ found himself singing along, already knowing all the words, and no longer paying attention to the house.

  Heading into his small home studio, he reset the music as background, and hit ‘record.’

  TJ leaned on the wall, not wanting to stand when all his focus was in his lungs and his vocal cords. Two bars in, the room around him dissolved, leaving him with only his own voice and the music.

  Chapter 40

  Norah was uncertain whether she was going to the track again or not. She’d apologized, and TJ had accepted in the worst possible way. She really didn’t like running, and he didn’t need her any more.

  Each time he headed home to all his stairs. As far as she knew, no one held his hand when he climbed to the second floor. Or else there was someone there, waiting for him. Either way, she was wasting her time.

  Her last class filed in for the night. The later classes had older students, and these were the core of her small dance company. She smiled at each of them as they came in, chattering about boys and clothes and make-up. They’d be normal teenage girls until she put the music on.

  They were dressed in various outfits, some all put together with matching pieces bought at local dance shops or from her own little boutique out front. Others were more concerned with not looking so put-together and wore cut-off t-shirts tied in knots here and there. They’d taken scissors to many of the things they wore. No rote black leotards here.

  They scattered across the floor, talking in small clusters. Some of them started warming up on their own, others required a glance from her to get going. It was seven-thirty and they would go until nine.

  Norah took her spot at the front of the room and snapped at the music. Sinking to the floor she led the new series of warm-up exercises they were finally getting familiar with. Going through the motions, her mind wandered.

  No more track.

  She would sleep in tomorrow. The thought brought a smile to her face and when they finished the first series she had the girls space themselves along the barres before they stuffed their feet into pointe shoes.

  The class went by without much input from her. A good portion of the girls had been at this studio longer than she had. She watched ankles and corrected posture, led them through turns and leaps and combinations. Then they put together the first three eight-counts of the Holiday Show dance they would do.

  Norah danced with them, leading because she knew it and they didn’t yet. By nine, she was exhausted, even though she didn’t think she’d done anything much.

  She did the last two steps and then quadrupled the last turn, thinking at least she’d feel like she’d done something that evening. She used her foot, but she landed in a perfect fifth position as she glanced around. Everywhere girls were falling off their feet, and they’d only had a double pirouette to do. She sighed and turned to Gracie, who’d been brave enough to stand beside Norah for the whole class. “Go write ‘pirouettes’ on the class board.” There was a series of small whiteboards where the teachers made notes about each class. “And Gracie, please spell it right.”

  Her eyes swept the mirror, taking in her own tired looks, and seeing that most of the girls had pulled it toget
her enough to hold the final fifth position pose, even if they hadn’t landed there.

  That was when she saw him in the doorway. His dark frame took up most of the space. For that half second, her heart stopped. What was he even doing here? Surely he hadn’t come to see her, he wasn’t speaking to her.

  Just as Norah realized she was staring at him in the mirror, he gave a half-smile. In it was a wealth of meaning. He was here to see her. He was sorry, too. He missed her.

  Or, she told herself, she had simply made all that up because she wanted it to be true.

  His eyes broke contact, and in that instant Norah registered the low humming around her. The girls were abuzz. This was Nashville, and they knew who he was.

  One even walked up to him, bold as day, strutting and flirting well beyond her seventeen years. “Are you TJ Hewlitt?”

  Norah couldn’t believe the audacity, and from Leah. Taking a deep breath, Norah consoled herself over disappointment in Leah and in TJ, too, for not looking at the girl like she had no right.

  “Yes, I am. I’m here to see Miss Davidson.”

  That at least made Norah laugh. No one called her ‘Miss Davidson’. The term seemed horribly old fashioned coming from his mouth.

  The girls seemed to agree.

  “Norah!” Several of them called out.

  “He’s here to see you.” That was the brunette who’d strutted her way up to him right behind Leah.

  Norah sighed. “Thank you, Belinda, for being surprised that Mr. Hewlitt was here to see me, of all people.” Only then did it occur to her that class wasn’t over until she said it was. “Class is excused.”

  No one moved.

  “Go.” She looked at each of them in turn.

  They lingered, gathering their things, and one by one pushed out the doorway. A bemused TJ had stepped into the room for a brief moment, trying to get out of the crush. It was Leah who looked up at him pityingly. “You can’t be in here on our nice wood floors with those shoes. Follow me.”

  TJ looked across the room at Norah, with panic on his face. She just nodded, agreeing that Leah was right.