Page 16 of Stick Side
Knowing that Melody had been pressed for time this morning, it had occurred to him that he could manufacture a reason to see her by dropping off some lunch.
After a quick Google search, he’d located a restaurant close to her workplace he thought might appeal to her. Ben knew she was a healthy eater, but he didn’t know much else about her food preferences. He’d been delighted when he spotted a fancykale salad on the menu. After all, wasn’t it a truth universally acknowledged that all health enthusiasts loved kale?
In the end, he’d ordered a few dishes, including the kale salad, and hoped for the best.
Melody had taken center stage in his mind since the moment he’d woken up to find her curled up against him. It was a good thing he hadn’t needed to study game film or do anything requiring higher thought this morning because he hadn’t been able to shake her from his mind when he was running on the treadmill, lifting weights, grabbing a bite to eat, or any time in between.
Whether he liked it or not, there was something about Melody McGuire that had him captivated. He’d grown so used to being singularly focused on hockey and the drive to win the Cup that her occupation of his thoughts felt jarring.
He couldn’t help but feel compelled to investigate this strange hold she seemed to have over him. Was the pull he felt toward her substantive, or had he somehow magnified it in his mind?
He wasn’t quite sure what outcome he was hoping for, but one thing was for sure: He felt an unrelenting desire to find out. And what better way to do that than to see her?
Ben couldn’t help but be impressed as he walked up the wide stone steps to the entrance of The Winchester Retirement Residence. With a brick and stone Victorian exterior, floral and geometric embellishments, and stone columns supporting the grand entrance canopy, the place gave an instant impression of class and old money. And yet, somehow, it seemed more welcoming than pretentious.
Ben continued to be impressed as he walked through the marble-floored entryway toward the front desk. A fresh-faced receptionist sat behind the counter, ready to greet him.
“Good day, and welcome to The Winchester,” she said. Her words seemed canned, but genuine.
“Good afternoon,” Ben returned. “I’m hoping to see Dr. Melody McGuire if she has a few minutes to spare.”
His statement caused the receptionist—Samantha, he would guess, based on the name on her frosted-metal name tag—to assess him with a more critical eye.
“I just popped over to deliver some lunch,” Ben offered. He hoisted up his takeout bag to emphasize his statement.
“Ohhh,” Samantha said, taking in the logo on the bag, “you must be a friend of Melody’s. Epi-cure-ian Foods is her favorite.”
Ben couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction that he’d somehow managed to pick out Melody’s favorite restaurant. It had been an educated guess, but still. It made him feel like maybe he really did already know her a little bit.
Samantha looked at her watch. “It’s twelve-fifteen, so you ought to be able to find Melody in the music room,” she offered.
Ben’s eyebrows rose. “You have a music room?”
Samantha flashed him a delighted smile. “The Winchester Retirement Residence is a state-of-the-art facility,” she enthused, “featuring a music room, a library, a cinema, an atrium, sprawling garden lawns, a gym, and a full health and wellness clinic. As you likely know, Melody is our resident physical therapist.”
Ben whistled his plaudit. This place was even more impressive than he’d realized. Melody must be a mighty fine physical therapist to have gotten a position working here.
“The music room is just down that hallway,” Samantha directed helpfully.
“Thank you.”
As he approached the room in question, Ben heard the sounds of music before he could identify the tune. What he saw when he moved into the doorway left him stunned. Sitting in front of the piano was Melody, her fingers moving across the keys as thoughshe had been born to play. Her rich, mellifluous voice filled the room as she sang “Hey There Delilah,” by the Plain White T’s.
The lyrics struck a definite chord. What she did to him, indeed,he thought reflectively.
Ben leaned against the doorframe as he took it all in. In the less than twenty-four hours since he’d first clapped eyes on her, he’d discovered Melody to be a skilled medical professional, an inspired chef, and now, an accomplished musician. Was there nothing this beautiful woman couldn’t do? No wonder she had so easily taken up residence in his head. She was extraordinary.
As she finished playing, a man’s voice called out, “Meadowlark!”
Melody turned toward the man who had put in his musical request.
“Aye, aye, Captain Thom.” She gave a playful salute before returning her fingers to the ivory keys. Ben couldn’t see her full face, just her profile, but that was enough to transition him from stunned to spellbound.
Melody closed her eyes as her fingers moved across the keys. Shivers started at the base of his spine and tingled upward as she sang a tragically beautiful song about a meadowlark who had been blessed with the gift of sight but missed the opportunity to really enjoy it on account of her loyalty to her caretaker.
Either Melody had a photographic memory or she’d played the song enough times to know it well, because she didn’t appear to be reading sheet music. When her eyes did open, it was as though she was held in rapture by the music.
Melody had shamed the Plain White T’s with her feminine version of their ballad, but the way she gave voice to this song was out of this world. She hit every note with such haunting beauty that Ben would swear he could feel her voice in the very marrow of his bones.
