Page 90 of That Reunited Feeling

JONAH (10:15 PM)

The answer to your next question is no. No, they won’t come on without backing. “The harmonies are too important”

Hannah’s bouncing stops, and the joy drains from her face as if someone just pulled the plug on it. “You mean we’re not going to see them after all?”

My eyes rove her uniquely beautiful face, from the quirk of her eyebrows, to her pixie nose, to the dimple by her luscious lips, and the most brilliant idea of my life flashes into my mind like a bolt of lightning.

Yes, I signed the unknown Medicines. Yes, I’ve built the label up to a billion-dollar global empire. And yes, we’re starting to develop plans for virtual reality gig streaming. But in my mind right now, what I’m about to suggest kicks the stuffing out of all of it.

“You do it.”

She cups her hand next to her ear and leans toward me. “What?”

I grab her by the shoulders and look right into those sparkling eyes. Eyes full of promise, full of a talent that was snuffed out because of the circumstances of her life, full of every ounce of ability and skill to do what I’m suggesting.

“Youdo it.”

She laughs. “Hilarious.”

“Not kidding. You know all their lyrics. You sing the backing more than you sing lead. I’ve heard you doing it all the time. You think the vacuum cleaner drowns you out, but it doesn’t.”

She shrugs off my hands. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

But there’s a glimmer in there, a tiny note of “hell, yes,” in her voice that anyone else would miss but is obvious to me.

“It’s not ridiculous. You’re note fucking perfect, Hannah.”

“I can’t do something like that.” She points down at the stage. “I can’t go out there and sing with Four Thousand fucking Medicines.”

“Of course you can. You’ve sung on plenty of stages. And as the lead.”

“Sure, when I was a teenager. And to a crowd of no more than two hundred people. That part of my life is done, Tom. Long gone. Over.”

I take her face in my hands. “But it doesn’t have to be. You can do this. I know you can. I believe in you.”

She jabs at my temples. “You’re out of your mind.”

I rub the point of contact. “I’m going to be so bruised tomorrow. But it’ll be worth it because we’ll be celebrating your amazing performance.”

I bring Jonah’s messages back up on my phone and tap the reply box.

“Don’t.” She slaps her hand over the screen. “Don’t even think about suggesting me to anyone.”

“Look at this, Hannah.” I gesture to the six thousand singing and dancing people around us. “Just exactly how disappointed will all these people be if the Medicines don’t come on?”

“As disappointed as me.”

“Which isvery,right?”

She nods as her eyes crawl over the crowd, from the people at the very front on the floor to the very back of the room at the top.

I dip my mouth to her ear and tug at her most delicate heartstring. “What would Dylan think if his mom got on stage and sang backing at a massive gig?”

Come on, Hannah. Come on.

She’s on the edge. I can see the flicker behind her eyes, the yearning to believe in herself enough to say yes. But if I push any more I risk sending her back the other way and she’ll never do it. Instead, I silently will her with every pore of my being.

Come on, Hannah. Remember who you are. Have faith in yourself. Have faith in what you know you can do. WhatIknow you can do.

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