Page 30 of The Last Love Song
Lately, it had seemed more permanent. As if Amy had no love for any of her family. And that hurt. Worse, it made Heather realize how deeply they’d hurther, and that stung a whole lot more.
“I passed the mayor’s car on my way here,” Megan announced as she flicked open the latches on her guitar case.
Heather blinked, surprised at the conversational turn, though she was glad to move away from the topic of her younger sister.
“He dropped me off after the fishing tournament, since my car is in the shop.” Heather picked up her own guitar, a Taylor Dreadnought with a gorgeous rosewood body. Her father had bought it for her twenty-first birthday. Until that gift, her parents hadn’t done much to encourage her passion for music. It had moved Heather that her father had not only noticed and understood how much her playing and singing meant to her, but that he’d gone to the trouble to hunt down a truly special six-string for her.
Making herself comfortable on the couch, she sat across from Megan, who’d pulled up a hard-backed dining room chair, which she preferred for playing. Heather’s fingers ran over the chords, and they felt much better than they had that morning. She knew that with RA, she could experience morning stiffness that would ease as the day wore on, but the pain she’d had earlier had beenmuch worse than the phrasemorning stiffnesssuggested. Was that really what she had to look forward to every day?
“I wondered about trying to interview him for a school project.” Megan picked along the strings faster than normal, tightening and tuning while Heather warmed up.
“The mayor?” she clarified. She knew she was distracted—because of the kiss with Zach and because of her hands—but today’s conversation with Megan tread strange water. Normally, they discussed tremolos and legatos, grace notes and slides.
Something was definitely off today with her student.
“Yeah.” The girl huffed a breath sideways to blow a strand of blond hair from her cheek while she twisted a tuning post hard. “I’m doing a paper on internet safety for teens, and I saw online that he manages a website that will help with that.”
“Really?” How little she knew about Zach, yet she’d been quick to kiss him senseless.
Although, if her goal was truly to be less practical, she must be knocking it out of the ballpark.
“You didn’t know, either?” Megan stopped messing with her strings and met Heather’s gaze.
“No. I do know that he owns a digital-security company and works on special digital forensics cases as a consultant. But I’ve never heard him talk about the website. How does it work?”
Megan’s eyes darted away. “Oh, I don’t really know much about it. Just that it’s supposed to help people collect data or something if someone is bugging them online.” She focused on the tuning post again, twisting hard and fast on the string she’d already tightened. “The beta version is supposed to launch soon.”
The string broke at first strum, the discordant note overly loud.
“Megan?” Heather quit strumming while the girl stared at her broken string. “Is everything okay?”
Megan dragged her guitar case closer, clunking and thunking as she dug around the accessories box. She didn’t meet Heather’s eyes.
“Totally fine. Sorry, I’m just a little late on that research project. I guess I didn’t realize I was stressing about it.”
“I’m sure it’s not easy juggling a job and school.” She wondered how much to say. How much to press. “Is there anything I can do to help? I will see Zach later today for a…meeting. Would you like me to ask him about the interview?”
“You’d do that?” Megan straightened, the guitar string forgotten, her eyes bright with emotion that seemed more intense than gratitude.
“Of course. I don’t know what his schedule is like, but I can certainly encourage him to get in touch with you as soon as possible. When is your project due?”
Megan shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. It’s my fault I’m late. As long as it’s good when I turn it in, I’ll get some credit for it.”
Yet another red flag on a day full of them—why did Megan, who’d always been an A student seem content with a poor grade?
Heather wanted to offer more help than putting her in touch with Zach, but she didn’t want to add to Megan’s stress. Besides, one of the benefits of music was that it could take a person away from everything else.
Maybe for today that escape would be the best thing she could offer.
“Good. Then let’s get you restrung so we can start practicing. I have some pointers for you on getting creative with solos and developing personal style.” Megan was a good player. She could handle this level of play. She’d gone beyond intermediate to advanced over the summer. “I know it helps me as I’m writing to play around with chords and motifs to get some new sounds.”
While Megan restrung her instrument, Heather talked through the day’s lesson, hoping to find creative inspiration for herself, even as she showed Megan ways to tighten her focus on their craft. Soon, they were busy playing with slides and slurring notes, racing each other through progressions and seeing who could play one slowest for the longest sustains. Heather had fun, and she was pretty sure that Megan—for at least a little while—had forgotten what was bothering her.
Maybe that wasn’t a good approach to problems. Heather had tried the “bury her head in the sand” method for years, and in the that hadn’t helped her move forward. But for one day? It sure worked like a charm.
She hoped Zach would help Megan with her research. Heather was thankful to have another topic of conversation over dinner to divert them from discussing their kiss. Because no matter how much music she played this afternoon, she couldn’t forget the way Zach’s kiss had made her feel. Heady. Sexy. Out of control.
And she’d be lying through her teeth to say she didn’t want to experience that again.
