Jane's Harmony (Jane's Melody #2) (29 page)

The album dropped eight weeks later on the Friday after Christmas. They threw a huge party at Sherman’s to celebrate. Mr. Zigler had the booths closest to the stage reserved for friends
of Caleb and for his employees, and true to his word, he served a custom brew of bottled beer bearing Caleb’s likeness on the label, offering up all the proceeds to a youth alcoholism charity. He had even had T-shirts printed up to match the album cover, and his wife was selling them at a table along with actual CDs. Jane couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so excited and so happy.

The drummer hit the cymbals to get everyone’s attention and the room fell silent. Jane watched the stage as Caleb came out to join the band. He scanned the crowd with a huge and happy grin on his face. Then his eyes settled on Jane. The way he looked at her, it was as if she were the only person in the place. Then he leaned in to the microphone and spoke.

“I’d like to dedicate my first song, in fact the entire night, to the woman who made all of this possible. The woman I love more than anything else in this world. To my future wife, to the mother-to-be of my child, I dedicate this to you, Jane. Thanks for always believing in me. I call this one ‘Jane’s Harmony.’ ”

Then he lifted his Jane guitar into place and played a sweet melody. When he sang out the first line, his voice seemed to come from every direction in the room, as if he were singing from somewhere already deep inside Jane’s heart.

A lonely melody

Sung out in the cold

A broken plea

To heal a tortured soul

I came to her grave

Thought I was alone

I prayed anyway

I sang my heart’s only song—

That song, that song, that song

That brought you to me

Oh, that lonely melody.

I stood in the rain

I made my final vow

Then an angel came

And took me home

Fear chased me away

But love’s never wrong

You found me that day

Singing your song—

Your song, your song, your song

That brought you back to me

Oh, your lovely melody.

Now from Austin’s sunny days

To Seattle’s rainy scene

Across all the long-lost ages

And the valleys in between

Through all the coming years

Our love goes on and on

Through a thousand happy tears

I’ll be singing our song—

Our song, our song, our song

That set our hearts free

Oh, our sweet harmony.

Because, baby, you see

You just have to believe

That from sunlight and still waters

To hailstorms and high seas

I’ll love you when it matters, baby

The way I pray that you love me

If I live a thousand years

Or even a thousand lives to be

I’ll spend them all with you, baby

Singing Jane’
s harmony.

I’ll spend them all with you, baby

Singing our sweet, sweet harmony

That sweet harmony.

Chapter 24

I
t was late on a Friday night at the end of January, and a dusting of snow lay on Austin’s deserted streets. It seemed the unusual freeze had chased even the most ardent inebriates in for the night. But despite the lack of takers, Caleb pedaled on into the cold, looking for a fare. He liked the quiet and the way the yellow streetlights dulled the colors from his sight, and he liked the feeling of an honest day’s work in his tired legs.

He heard music spill out of a bar, and then it went quiet again as the door closed. A moment later someone shouted, “Hey, rickshaw boy, over here!”

He circled back and pulled alongside the curb.

“Colder than a well digger’s ass out here,” the man said, climbing into the pedicab seat. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“You bet,” Caleb said. “Where you heading?”

“Littlefield Quarters, on Sixth and Brazos.”

Caleb nodded and pedaled off up the street. He could hear the man humming a tune behind him and it was nice to have some company, even if only for a few blocks.

“How about this snow?” the man asked after a while.

“I’m from Washington, so it doesn’t bother me much.”

“Well, it seems old Mother Nature sends us just enough every few years to let people know who’s in charge. I’ll bet you’re not setting any tip records tonight.”

Caleb turned and looked at him and shook his head. “No, I’m sure not.”

“Hey,” the man said, “aren’t you that guy who was on the TV show? The singer-songwriter contest deal.”

“Yep, I’m that guy,” Caleb replied, not entirely happy to have been recognized.

The man scooted forward in his seat, lowering his voice as if to avoid being overheard, although there was no one about. “I thought you released an album, dude. There were flyers all over town.”

“I did,” Caleb answered. “About a month ago now.”

“And you’re riding around in a rickshaw?”

Caleb turned and looked at him and shrugged. “I’ve got a baby on the way to support. Whatever it takes.”

“Shit,” the man said, sitting back again. “That’s rough.”

Caleb pulled up to Littlefield Quarters, and his fare stepped out of the pedicab and took out his wallet.

“What do I owe you?”

Caleb waved it off. “Ride’s on me.”

“You sure? I gotta pay you something.”

“It’s fine. Really. I was heading this way. Besides, night like tonight, I’m just happy to have some company.”

Caleb nodded good-bye and pulled the pedicab away from the curb to pedal off toward home. He was a half a block away when he heard the man shout after him.

“Thanks, dude! I’ll download your album.”

Caleb smiled and thought to himself, Sweet. Now I only need to give away another hundred thousand or so free rides and I might have myself a music career.

He stopped at the all-night convenience store on their block and purchased a pint of Chunky Monkey for Jane, her Ben & Jerry’s flavor of the week, and a pint of Chubby Hubby for himself. Then he rode the rest of the way home, chained the pedicab to the apartment fence, and went inside to the one thing in this life he loved even more than music.

Jane was on the sofa, dividing her attention between her laptop and the Super Bowl pregame show on TV, when her shriek brought Caleb running in from the kitchen in a panic. He looked at her, then at the TV.

“What are you screaming about? The game hasn’t even started yet, babe, and you just made me dump your guiltless guacamole dip all over the kitchen floor.”

“Not the game,” she said, ignoring the TV and waving him frantically toward the computer on her lap. “You won’t believe this, honey. Come and look.”

Caleb flopped down on the couch next to her and followed Jane’s finger pointing at the screen.

“No way,” he said, taking the laptop. “Let me see this.”

Caleb refreshed the browser and looked again. “How is this even possible?” he asked. “Was it Jordyn’s tweet about my album to her fans?”

“That,” Jane said, “or it could have been her Facebook post. Or her YouTube video. Or Panda’s blog about you.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Or maybe it’s just a really great album, baby, and it took a while to catch on.”

“But I’m up next to Lorde on the chart. I don’t believe it.”

“I didn’t either,” she said, “but look here.” She reached and clicked on the other browser, then pulled up the iTunes sales report.

“Holy sh—” Caleb glanced over at Jane’s belly, remembering that little ears were just beneath the bump there, and caught his comment short. “I mean, holy guacamole. Almost seven thousand downloads just today.”

Jane hit the refresh button. “Almost eight thousand now.”

Caleb refreshed the browser again and more downloads appeared. He had a huge smile on his face even as he shook his head in disbelief, and he was so completely absorbed in the good
news on that little screen that he didn’t even appear to hear the knock on the apartment door.

Jane rose from the couch and went to answer it. Buttercup rushed inside between Jane’s feet, and Marj and Bill stood in the doorway, holding an enormous party sandwich and a plate of homemade cookies.

“Come on in,” Jane said. “The game’s about to start.”

“We thought maybe it already had,” Marj said, stepping inside, “what with all the screaming we heard over here just a minute ago. What did we miss?”

Jane nodded toward Caleb on the couch. “Caleb’s album is halfway up the iTunes Top One Hundred chart.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Marj said, hugging Jane. “You two deserve this so much.”

“Congratulations, Caleb,” Bill called into the living room.

Caleb looked up from the laptop. “Oh, thanks, Bill. I still can’t believe it.”

“Well, it’s a great album, so I’m not surprised.” Then Bill took Marj’s hand in his and looked at Jane. “We have some good news of our own. Tell them, honey.”

Marj smiled and held up her hand, showing off a ring. “Bill and I are getting married.”

“Oh my God, Marj! This is so great. Caleb, they’re getting married. Come see the ring.” Jane took Marj’s hand and looked at the ring. “It’s so beautiful, Marj. Wait a minute. You’re not pregnant too, are you?”

Marj laughed. “At my age? Don’t be silly. But I want you to be my maid of honor.”

“Only if you’ll be my matron of honor,” Jane said, placing a hand on her growing belly and adding, “since you’ll probably beat us to the altar.”

Caleb closed the laptop and put it away. After everyone had
fixed themselves a plate, they all sat down on the couch to watch Denver kick off to Seattle for Super Bowl XLVIII. Jane had a plate of goodies on her lap, her lover on one side, her friends on the other, and her home team playing the biggest game of the century on the TV in front of her. She was as happy as could be.

Then Caleb put his arm around her and kissed her head, and said, “The only way today could be any better, baby, is if the Seahawks actually win.”

Win or lose, Jane couldn’t imagine the day getting any happier. Until she felt their baby kick, and suddenly, it did.

They were driving to the house when one of Caleb’s songs came on the radio. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and sat looking at the station’s call letters on the radio’s display, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Jane sat in the passenger seat, grinning with pride.

“Did you do this, baby?” Caleb asked.

“Me and Mr. Zigler did it, yes. It’s just the local Austin stations for now, but we hired a radio promotion company and we’re hoping to get more airtime soon.”

Caleb was still smiling when he pulled back into traffic. “Who knew you had such a head for business.”

“It helps a lot when the female station manager sees your picture on the album cover.”

Caleb laughed. “Are you pimping me out to sell albums?”

“Not yet,” she said. “But I might when it comes time to sell tickets for your tour.”

Caleb reached over and took her hand in his as he drove. “You know there’s no one in this world or any other for me except you, don’t you, baby?”

“Even right now? As pregnant as I am?”

“Especially right now.”

Jane smiled and looked out the window as they turned onto their new street. Their agent was already there waiting when they pulled up. Caleb jumped out and went around to help Jane from the car. Then they walked hand in hand across the street and met their agent at the gate. He reached into his pocket and held out the keys to their house. Caleb looked at Jane, but she nodded for him to take them.

“The owner had no problem with the two-year option to buy at the agreed price,” the agent said. “I put a signed copy of the lease-option agreement on the counter.”

Caleb shook his hand. “I appreciate that, Vincent. If things keep going well with the album, maybe we’ll buy it sooner rather than later.”

“We can do a walk-through, if you want,” Vincent offered.

Caleb looked at Jane, but she smiled and shook her head.

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” she said. “Thanks for all your work. You’ve been great.”

After Vincent drove off down the street, Jane and Caleb surveyed their bungalow. It was small but perfect. A white picket fence, a green lawn with a shade tree, a covered porch. But the real reason they had fallen in love with it was a backyard that was almost too big to believe. And not one blackberry shrub anywhere in sight.

Caleb opened the gate and led Jane up the walk by the hand. He had just put the key in the door when Jane put her hand on his and stopped him. Then she opened her bag and took out Mrs. Hawthorne’s horseshoe.

“We have to hang this above the door first,” she said, handing the horseshoe to Caleb. Then she retrieved from her bag the small hammer-and-nails kit she’d picked up for just this occasion.

Caleb put the keys in his jeans pocket, took two nails, and put them in his mouth. Then he took up the hammer with one hand and lifted the horseshoe above the door with the other and centered it.

“Which side up?” he asked, mumbling through the nails.

“I think the open side up,” Jane said, remembering how it had been. “That way the luck won’t spill out.”

When the horseshoe was in position, Caleb was stuck for a moment with the horseshoe upheld in one hand, the hammer in his other hand, and no way to get the nails from his mouth. He looked to Jane, but she laughed, enjoying his predicament. He grinned, obviously appreciating the silent joke between them. Then he put the hammer in his back pocket and took up a nail and held it and the horseshoe in place with one hand, then retrieved the hammer from his pocket with the other and nailed the horseshoe into place. Jane watched this with great wonder, curious how it was that men managed such things but couldn’t seem to get the cap back on the toothpaste.

Caleb handed Jane the hammer and she put it back in her bag. Then she took his hand in hers, gazed up at the horseshoe, and smiled for Mrs. Hawthorne.

“Let’s just sit on the steps for a minute before we go in.”

They sat down on the upper step and looked at their yard. A butterfly fluttered just above the grass. A squirrel ran across the lawn and up the tree, setting birds there to squawking. A breeze rustled the leaves. It was a perfect spring afternoon.

“You know,” Jane said, “before Melody and I moved into our house on the island, we sat on the porch and said a prayer.”

She felt Caleb squeeze her hand. “We can say a prayer.”

“But it’s been a long time.”

“All the better, then,” he said.

Jane closed her eyes and listened to the birds and to the breeze. Her mind wandered back across all those years to her
and five-year-old Melody sitting together on the steps of their first home, looking up at snow clouds gathering in the gray Washington skies. She could almost feel the cold on her cheeks. She missed that little girl, and she knew she always would. She whispered a prayer. The same prayer. And then she was back on the porch with Caleb, the Texas sun warm on her face and Caleb’s hand warm in hers, and she knew that the prayer had already been answered.

She rose and Caleb rose with her.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Then he turned, took her bag from her and set it down beside the door, and scooped her up into his arms.