Page 17 of Hope & Harmony

LUCCA

Madeline plops down next to me and takes the lyrics from my hands. “I can’t seem to get that second verse right. I’ve tried a million things, and nothing makes it better. What did you hear?”

We turn around to face the bar, and I grab my pen, ready to jot down a few ideas. “The song is amazing. I felt every bit of the emotion in your voice. There are two things we can do.”

“We,” she whispers, giving me a smile when I peer up at her.

“I’m in this with you. There’s no turning back now,” I tell her before I return my attention to the paper instead of allowing myself to get sidetracked by her pretty face and plump, pouty lips.

“What makes you tick?”

I peer up at her again. “What makes me tick?”

She nods. “We’ve talked on and off for over a year, and I don’t know much about you except you’re successful and write some of my favorite songs. I want to know who Lucca Bruno is—the man, not the songwriter.”

I set down my pen and turn toward her on the stool. “I’m a pretty boring guy, Madeline.”

“Maddy,” she corrects me and touches my arm, sending shocks throughout my system. “I think we’ve known each other long enough to get rid of the formalities.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Where are you from?”

“I was born and bred here. You?”

“Same,” she says.

“My parents are up in Watkins Glen now, but they used to live here when we were younger,” I reply.

“We?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Who’s we?”

“I have a brother and two sisters.”

“Nearby?”

I nod. “My brother and sister-in-law live here in the city along with their kids.”

“You’re an uncle?”

I can’t stop myself from smiling. “I’m the best uncle ever, or, at least, I try to be.”

“I bet you are. I’m an aunt, and it’s the best thing in the world. I get to play with the kids, give them lots of hugs and kisses, and then send them on their way back to my sister. I get to avoid all the hard stuff.”

“Do you want kids of your own?” Even I am taken aback by my question. Maybe it was too forward and sounded like I was fishing, and maybe somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I am.

“I do someday. I’ll have to give up my career, though, which is hard for me to imagine.”

“Not necessarily,” I tell her, knowing plenty of successful musicians with children.

“It’s hard to play the bar scene at night with little ones at home.” She shrugs. “But that’ll require me to find a man first, and that hasn’t happened either.” She snorts. “A strugglingmusician doesn’t seem to be a sought-after partner for many. You know my schedule. It’s not conducive to dating.”

“If someone likes you, they’ll find a way to make it work, Maddy.”

“Maybe,” she says, not sounding convinced.

“Don’t settle for someone who wants to change the things you love doing the most. Music isn’t like anything else. It’s rooted deep in your soul. It’s part of you and not a simple hobby that someone can easily give up. The only person who would be happy about that would be your partner, not you. You’d be miserable.”

“Sounds like you know from experience.”

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