Page 54 of The Lyrics of Love

“That’s some gift,” Jerry said. “I usually gave my wife a dozen roses and took her to dinner at the Old Coast Pub House. Then again, accountants can’t afford four-thousand-dollar antique desks.”

Rylie stroked the wood of the slant-lid desk. “But isn’t it beautiful? Besides, you and I get to be around all these lovely pieces. We don’t have to be able to afford them and take them home. We merely enjoy them the short time they remain with us.”

He shrugged. “I can see it’s really pretty. But even if I had big bucks, I don’t think I’d buy it. Four thousand for a desk is about thirty-five hundred more than I would want to spend. Now if we were talking a fishing boat? Then I’d be a little looser with my wallet.”

The bell jingled, indicating a customer entered the store. Rylie looked up and recognized Jarrod Simpson. She waved and went to meet him.

“Hi, Jarrod,” she greeted. “I didn’t know you were interested in antiques.”

The young man, who at six-six was the tallest person she knew, was also one of the thinnest. Jarrod had told her that his goal was to hit two hundred pounds someday. She guessed he probably had another thirty or more to go.

“I’m not,” he admitted. “But I wanted to talk to you about Nash Edwards.”

Immediately, her guard went up, wanting to protect Nash’s privacy. “You’ll have to speak to Nash. Not me.”

A pained expression crossed Jarrod’s face. “Oh, I thought you knew him. Like, you actually knew him.”

“I do. What is this about?”

The young man shrugged. “Well, I sent a song to him. He said he would take a listen. Well, it’s not actually a song, like with music. It’s just words. Lyrics. I haven’t heard anything from him, and I was wondering if he might have said something to you about it.”

“No, he didn’t mention anything, Jarrod. Nash is very busy, you understand.”

His head drooped in disappointment. “Yeah, I get that. I was just hoping he had played it and could maybe give me feedback.” He looked at her hopefully. “Or you could remind him to listen to it.”

She liked this young man. “I can ask if he got it. How did you send it to him?”

“I e-mailed him the file.”

“Okay, next time I do see him, I’ll bring it up. Good enough?”

Jarrod grabbed her hand and pumped it enthusiastically. “Oh, thank you, Rylie. That means the world to me. I really, really appreciate you doing this.”

They talked a few minutes. Jarrod asked about how Nash liked SUP-ing, while she asked about Jarrod’s future plans since she recalled he had graduated from college back in May.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said, clearly discouraged. “My dad warned me not to get an English degree. Said I wouldn’t be able to do anything with it.”

“Why did you study English?” she asked, curious.

His eyes lit up. “Because I love words. I love putting them together. I write poems. Song lyrics. Short stories. I haven’t tried a full-blown novel yet, but I may attempt that someday. For now? I’ll keep clerking at the shop part-time until the summer season ends. Dad is pushing for me to find a teaching job.” Jarrod shook his head. “I just don’t see myself talking about nouns and verbs and how to write an essay to fourteen-year-olds.”

“What would your dream job be?”

He smiled. “Being a lyricist. Writing for Broadway or a band.”

She determined to speak to Nash about Jarrod tonight before they ate dinner.

“Give me your number,” she said. “I’ll text you if I hear anything about Nash listening to your song.”

Jarrod thanked her and left the store.

“That is one tall drink,” Jerry said. “He needs a girlfriend who cooks to put some weight on him.”

“I think he’s too shy for a girlfriend,” Rylie said. “But he would make a decent boyfriend.”

“You’re looking pretty happy today,” Jerry noted. “And I don’t think it’s because you sold a desk.”

“I’m seeing Nash tonight. We cleared up a few things between us.”

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