Liron's Melody

  Liron’s Melody

  By

  Brieanna Robertson

  World Castle Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locations, organizations, or person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  WCP

  World Castle Publishing

  Pensacola, Florida

  Copyright © Brieanna Robertson 2011

  ISBN: 9781939865069

  First Edition Purple Sword Publications, LLC April 5, 2011

  Prior ISBN: 9781936165902

  Second Edition World Castle Publishing March 15, 2013

  http://www.worldcastlepublishing.com

  Notes

  This ebook belongs to vzyl at 64 70 67 72 6f 75 70 forum. I hereby acknowledge that I have shared this book outside the forum without permission from the original poster if I earn profit or rewards for providing access to this ebook. I also accept responsibility for providing a link to this forum.

  This one is all for Travis.

  For acceptance, for listening,

  for putting up with my eight billion text messages.

  And for reminding me that all great artists are crazy.

  You are a friend, and a man, without equal.

  “A love song is just a caress set to music.”

  -Sigmund Romberg

  Chapter One

  “Geez Louise, this is the oldest piece of music I have ever seen in my life. Where did you get it?” Melody tentatively picked up the tattered, yellowed score her friend had put on her table, afraid it might fall apart in her hand.

  “This big estate sale,” Nikki said. “There was all this rich lady stuff there. Not really my style.” She shrugged. “But I saw that thing and just had to get it for you. Can you still see it well enough to play it?”

  Melody felt the color drain from her face, and she dipped her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ancient score. Really, she wanted her mass of blonde hair to fall in front of her face so Nikki wouldn’t see how pale she knew she’d gotten. “The notes are still legible,” she muttered, steering away from the actual I can still play it part of the statement.

  She perused it a little longer, just to be safe, but when she stood straight and looked back at her friend, she knew she hadn’t fooled anyone. Nikki had known her too long.

  Nikki was staring at her, hands on her hips, her lips drawn into an unamused line. “Gimme a break, Mel. I wasn’t born yesterday. You still haven’t played anything, have you?”

  Her face, which had felt so colorless a second ago, flooded with warmth, and she averted her gaze. “I may have played Chopsticks at one point.”

  Nikki snorted. “Awesome. A world famous concert pianist, trained at Juilliard, played Chopsticks once, probably when you were drunk. Alert the media.”

  Melody scowled at her. “Gimme a break, Nik. I wasn’t world famous by any means.”

  “You could have been! Would have been if you had kept going!” She huffed out a sigh, and her expression changed from annoyed to sympathetic. “Melody, how long are you going to do this to yourself? They wouldn’t have liked this. Music was their life. Aren’t you honoring their memory more by continuing on with what you all loved doing together?”

  Pain squeezed Melody’s heart, and her eyes burned, but she knew tears would never actually manifest. She hadn’t cried since the accident. Not even at the funeral. “I can’t, Nikki,” she admitted softly. “I’ve tried, believe me. I just can’t. Every time I sit down at that piano, all I see is the day before it happened. I see my dad busting one of his cello strings because he’d been playing like a maniac. And then Mom broke into an impromptu performance of Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor while he replaced it, which I accompanied her with on the piano. You know they played that song at their funeral, right? That was the last thing I played. I sat there and played that mournful, awful, exquisitely beautiful song with my mother the day before she died. And afterward, my dad said, ‘There is no symphony in this world that matches the beauty of my two girls.’”

  Melody shook her head as the pain around her heart became excruciating. “I played that with them and then they played it at the funeral. I didn’t even know anyone had planned it. It had all been without my knowledge. The entire flipping orchestra played it because it had been their favorite piece of music. I can never listen to that again without seeing that day. And every time I look at my piano, that’s what I remember.”

  “But the memory you have is a good one, Mel. Of the three of you.”

  “The memories are linked now. I see Mom and me playing, and then I see the funeral. I relive it every time I look at the piano. And, I mean, honestly.” She huffed and held her arms out helplessly. “How can I play with them gone, Nikki? All of this doesn’t mean squat without them.”

  Nikki’s brown eyes filled with the tears Melody couldn’t shed, and she sighed. “But Melody, this was your dream, too. Not just your parents’.”

  “It was our dream together, and it died in that car crash along with them. I hear nothing now. No notes. No chords. I feel nothing. It’s all hollow now. Why should I play when I feel nothing but emptiness?” She thumbed the frayed edges of the music score Nikki had brought her, desperate to be away from this conversation and this subject.

  Nikki worried her bottom lip between her teeth, obviously fighting over whether or not to say something else.

  Melody huffed. “Spit it out, Nik.”

  “You were working on that composition before—”

  “Concerto,” she corrected. “I wasn’t writing a thesis, I was writing a concerto. And that was written with the purpose of featuring me, Mom, and Dad. I’m not going to keep writing it when they aren’t here, no matter how much the orchestra members and the conductor, and the freaking ticket salesmen, and janitors, keep harping on me.”

  Nikki held her hands up in a sign of surrender as Melody’s voice rose in pitch and vehemence. “Okay, okay! I wasn’t trying to bug you, I was just saying, is all.” She blew out a breath that sent the tendrils of brown hair around her face flying. “At any rate, I bought that thing for you because I thought you would like it. Play it, don’t play it, hang it on your wall, use it for toilet paper. I don’t care.”

  The irritation deflated out of Melody and was quickly replaced by guilt. She glanced down at the score again and sighed. “I’m sorry, Nikki. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I do like it. It’s beautiful.” She picked it up and leafed through the fragile pages. For some reason, the worn paper reminded her of herself. They were tattered and lonely, brittle and stained, just like she was. Suddenly, the gift meant the world to her, and she clutched it to her chest. “Really, I’m sorry.” She met her friend’s eyes and shook her head. “I know you were only trying to help.”

  Nikki waved her hand. “Don’t worry about it, Mel. I need to learn how to mind my own business.” She gave her a gentle smile then raised an eyebrow playfully. “On a completely unrelated subject, have you seen Rob lately?”

  She rolled her eyes and, with great care, set the music score on her piano. Maybe she wouldn’t play it, but it looked wonderful there. If it was as old as it appeared, it deserved to sit in a place of honor. “He came by yesterday, bothered me until I went to dinner with him.”

  Nikki giggled. “How did that go?”

  Melody shrugged. “All right, I guess.” She turned away from her piano and met her friend’s gaze. “I don’t know. He’s nice enough…most of the time.”

  “What do you mean, most of the time?”

  “Well, he’s a little bit domineering for my taste. He orders for me. It’s weird.”


  Nikki laughed softly. “Well, there are worse things.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” Rob was actually her neighbor who lived across the street. He had moved in about a month ago and had been after Melody ever since. At first, she’d found it annoying. She wasn’t really looking for a boyfriend. She was still having enough difficulty getting through the day and dealing with her grief over her parents. And they had absolutely nothing in common. He was a football coach at a local high school, and liked to watch Nascar and go to cage fighting competitions. He was bullheaded and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  After a good two months of him not letting up, she had finally agreed to go on a date with the guy just to get him off her back. She’d been surprised that, though she had no interest in hunting, fishing, or dirt biking, and he had absolutely no care for any kind of music that wasn’t screaming guitar, they did have a small measure of chemistry between them. He wasn’t her type at all, but maybe that was why she kept giving him a chance. He had nothing to do with music, and therefore, nothing to do with anything that caused her pain.

  “Speak of the devil,” Nikki said, pointing her chin in the direction of Melody’s front door.

  She sighed as she turned and spotted Rob on her porch, peering inside the screen door to try and get a look at what was going on. “Hi, Rob,” she called, unable to sound as enthusiastic as he probably wanted her to.

  At the sound of her voice, he stood up straight and grinned. Dressed in denim shorts and hiking boots with a baseball hat and aviator glasses, he looked like everyone’s All American guy. “Hey, Mel, you busy?”

  She went to the door with Nikki, who sent her a wink and said she would call her later. She moved past Rob and let herself out. Melody stood in the doorway, not allowing Rob to come in, just because she didn’t want him to think he had a right. He was pushy, and she was tired of him trying to bully his way into her life. She enjoyed his company, was trying to let her guard down enough to see if they could actually have a relationship, but something about him still rubbed her the wrong way. “What’s up?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest.

  His grin never faltered. “I was wondering if you were doing anything today? I was thinking of going on a hike. It’s a nice day, and I know a lot of good scenic trails. Thought maybe you’d like to come with me.”

  Melody mulled his offer over for a minute, then decided that it couldn’t hurt. She wasn’t much for hiking, but it would give her something to do. At least it was better than sitting at home with all the ghosts and the skeletons in her closet. “Yeah, okay. Just let me put on some decent shoes.” She moved away from the doorframe and held the screen open for him, finally allowing him entrance.

  Rob sauntered in and took inventory of her house like he hadn’t already been there three times before. His eyes lingered on the pictures in the living room, which were all black and white photos of her parents and the orchestra. He frowned. “When are you gonna take these down?”

  Melody arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry, was I supposed to?” She couldn’t have kept the sarcastic note out of her voice if she’d wanted to. She opened up the hall closet and grabbed a pair of hiking boots.

  He looked at her and shrugged. “Well, it’s just… I mean, isn’t it kind of depressing to have those reminders everywhere?”

  “It was part of my life for a long time, Rob. And it’s my house, not yours, so I don’t need your approval.” She sat down on the sofa to put her boots on.

  He snorted. “Well, it isn’t really your house, is it, Mel? It’s still your parents’.”

  She frowned up at him. “No, it’s mine. They left it to me in their will.”

  He rolled his eyes and indicated the pictures he had been talking about. “No, I mean it’s still theirs. You haven’t changed a thing, have you?”

  Melody exhaled a measured breath. What was it with today? Everyone was a freaking therapist.

  He must have picked up on her annoyance because he held his hands up the same way Nikki had. “Sorry, I’m not trying to stick my nose in.” He met her gaze and his voice grew softer, if slightly patronizing. “All I’m saying is that they’ve been gone for a year now. You claim you don’t want anything to do with playing music ever again, yet you still have all these reminders everywhere. I think it’s unhealthy.”

  She finished lacing up her boots and stood abruptly. “Great. I don’t remember asking you for your opinion, though.”

  He took a step back. “Geez. Testy. Fine, I’ll put a lid on it.”

  “You do that. Otherwise, forget our date.” He muttered something under his breath, but she couldn’t hear what it was because she was on her way into the kitchen to grab a water bottle. Maybe she was being unnecessarily witchy, but she was really sick of people trying to tell her what was best for her. They weren’t her. They weren’t in her shoes. She didn’t care how well-intentioned any of the unwanted advice was, it was still unwanted. And if she didn’t keep Rob in his place, he would dominate the conversation and the entire day. If she gave him an inch, the guy took fifty miles.

  “Where’d you get this ugly thing? Looks like someone put it through a blender.”

  She heaved an aggravated sigh as she came back into the living room and saw Rob studying the score Nikki had brought her. “Nikki got it for me. It’s old. Don’t touch it!”

  He snapped back the hand that had been reaching for the music and stared at her like she’d lost her mind.

  She scowled. For some reason, the thought of him touching that beautifully broken score made her extremely irate. She envisioned the already yellowed pages turning black and withering at the touch of his unappreciative hand. “Are we going, or what?”

  He moved away from the piano and gave her a measured look. He put his hands on his hips. “Did you want to take a Midol first?”

  She opened her mouth to say something really rude, but before she could voice it, he chuckled and stepped forward.

  He took her hands in his and shook her arms lightly. “Babe, what’s wrong? Why are you so annoyed?”

  “I’m just sick of people’s opinions, Rob. First Nikki, and now you? Why don’t we invite the mailman in and see what he has to say about my life while we’re at it?” She tried to ignore the fact that he’d called her “babe.” She hated that he tried to lay claim on her when they were not together.

  Rob raised his eyebrows and moved his thumbs back and forth across her hands. “I obviously didn’t know Nikki had irritated you because I wasn’t here. I’m sorry if I made it worse.” He smiled, but she noticed it didn’t really reach his eyes, which made her wonder if it was sincere at all. “If you don’t want to go hiking, it’s okay. I just thought maybe you’d like to enjoy this gorgeous day with me.”

  Melody sighed, feeling a little bit like a jerk. He really hadn’t done anything to provoke her; nothing out of the ordinary, anyway. He was always opinionated. She didn’t know why she’d expect him to be any different. “No, I’ll go. Sorry. I’m just on edge.”

  He trailed his finger along her jawline. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll help you forget whatever’s bothering you in no time.”

  She didn’t say anything about his arrogant remark. Those also came with the territory when she was with Rob. She secured her hair back into a ponytail and followed him out the door. As she turned her key in the lock, a distant part of her mind screamed at her that she was insane, that this wasn’t who she was. That nothing she had been doing for the last year of her life was productive or useful in any way. That all she was doing was hiding and running.

  She hated that voice’s opinion even more than she hated Nikki’s and Rob’s. So, she ignored it completely.

  Chapter Two

  Melody let the door crash closed behind her, not caring that it made a racket that probably could be heard all the way down the street. Her feet were screaming at her, she felt like her lungs were going to collapse, her quads felt like they were made of jelly, and her mood had not improved any. Appar
ently, Rob’s idea of a “hike” was actually an Iron Man death march up the side of a mountain where he took off like an Olympian and left her behind, wheezing and puffing and almost falling to her death. And to make things even better, he had heckled her the entire time, calling her slow and out of shape.

  The man had actually asked her if she wanted to eat dinner with him afterward. Even if she hadn’t felt like throwing up from overexertion, she would have told him to cram it up his you-know-what. He’d continued to tease her all the way home, thinking, she imagined, that he was funny. She wanted to kick him where it counted. At times, Rob could be witty and charming. Those times were redeeming and were why she continued to keep him around. Other times, he was just a jackass.

  After flopping down on her sofa, she yanked off her hiking boots and flung them across the room in frustration. She was finished with him for about a week. He could sit over there and figure out why she was annoyed. If he had a brain in his head at all, he wouldn’t have a hard time with it. But then again, he was a guy, so who knew? Knowing him, he’d think she’d fallen madly in love with his primal, alpha behavior. In other words, the fact that he’d acted like a complete caveman.

  She rolled her eyes and stood, heading down the hall. She pulled her clothing off and threw it haphazardly around her bedroom, grabbed her pajamas, and made her way into the bathroom. After she had drawn a steaming hot bath, she stepped into the tub and lay back in it with a sigh of bliss.

  As the hot water relaxed her tired, tense muscles, she let her mind replay the day, specifically her outing with Rob. Sometimes she wondered why she continued to indulge him. He irritated her seventy-five percent of the time. Try as she might, she couldn’t see herself falling for him. He was cocky and flip, and self-centered.

  In the back of her mind, she knew the real reason she kept him around. It wasn’t because she was interested in him. It was because he was a distraction. It kept her from thinking about anything in her life that reminded her of the past. Rob was about as far from what her life had been as she could get.