Page 41 of Places I've Never Been

Her mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. She disappeared from view.

He’d pushed her too far, and he deserved what he got. All he’d wanted was to slow things down a little. At the rate she wanted to work, they’d finish all three songs in three days and there’d be no more excuses to hang out, which was unacceptable as far as he was concerned.

He swamover to the ladder and climbed back onto the boat. The deckhand fluttered around him offering a towel and first aid, which he refused.

Mattie paced back and forth across the deck, clearly agitated.

“Mattie.”

“Look what you made me do. I can’t believe you. I can’t work like this. This is insane.” Mattie stopped long enough to flash him a look he couldn’t interpret, then continued pacing.

“Mattie, I’m sorry.”

She stopped. “Why’d you bring me out here today?”

He rubbed his neck and tried to look contrite. “I wanted to get to know the real you, not the one you’re pretending to be.”

A flicker of doubt flashed through her eyes. “I’m not pretending.”

“Oh yes you are,” he scoffed. “You put on that mask every time you look at me, and all you ever want to talk about is the damn song. You’re all work, all the time, which I know isn’t really you.”

“How would you know who I really am? You don’t know me. You don’t know me at all.” Her eyes flashed a challenge.

He didn’t back down. “I’ve seen you on stage, and I’ve heard your songs. They’re the reason I wanted to work with you, because therealyou finds the joy and life in music. I wanted to have some of that in mine, and I was having a hard time finding it on my own after Johnny J left.”

She blinked at him, as if what he’d just said had to be processed and examined.

“It’s been years, but I’m still that kid in the garage who will do anything to get heard. I did a stupid thing to get your attention, and you called me on it. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can we start over? Please?”

Mattie bit her lip and looked out at the water.

He kept his mouth shut and let her think. It was hard. He had to bite his tongue. Twice. But he managed to give her the space she seemed to need.

Finally, her face softened as she came to some sort of internal conclusion. “If you want to start over, answer a question for me.”

“Shoot.” He nodded. He was so glad she hadn’t taken the first helicopter off the island that he’d have agreed to almost anything.

“Why did you start writing songs? Originally, I mean.” She picked up her notebook and sat in the captain’s chair.

He thought about it. “Just after I turned sixteen, my dad got me a job in the pressroom at the paper where he worked. Making up melodies was a way to pass the time while I mopped the floors. I knew I had something good when the press guys started humming the melody back at me. I took that home, and we worked out the rest.”

She smiled. “Tell me about that. How’d you work it out?”

“By arguing, mostly.” He admitted. “Lyrics didn’t come natural, not at the beginning. Hell, I suppose they still don’t. I remember sweating buckets in the garage day after day with the guys. We worked out melodies by trial and error, but the words were all over the place. We had next to no rhythm. That was before Flynn. Me and Johnny J would toss out different ideas, while Brandon and LT would shoot them down. It was noise, and really not fit for a dog to listen to, but it was a blast.”

She looked thoughtful. “I can see that. I bet it felt like a secret clubhouse. I’m not surprised you formed a band.”

“At first it was just something to do. Then Dad started in on me. He thought it was a stupid waste of time. So it became a mission. A way to show him his way wasn’t the only way to be. Besides, I loved music. My mom used to sing to me as a kid, and my grandpa played for us every time we visited him. Why’d you start writing songs?”

She watched the waves with a wistful expression on her face. “They weren’t songs, at first. Theywere poems. My mom died when I was eight, and writing was my outlet. It helped me get my feelings out, you know? Then Lizzie had the idea for us to put on little musical skits for Dad to cheer him up, and one thing led to another. Piper added the melodies, Della added the style.”

He nodded. “And you added the heart.”

She shook her head. “Not just me. All of us. Together.”

He leaned forward. “I don’t think you get it. You provide the inspiration. The Bellamy Sisters would have been less—a lot less—without you.”

She shook her head. “I’m just the backup. If anything, Piper is the inspiration. She connects with the fans better than the rest of us.”

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