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All She Ever Wanted

By: jazm49



Melissa Fleming stood in her kitchen, taking a break from the medical transcription work she did out of her apartment. The air conditioner was just barely beating off the muggy July heat of southern Iowa. She'd poured herself a cup of coffee, turned on the radio which was tuned to one of her favorite Country stations, and was delighted to hear the beginning of one of her favorite new songs.

You said your heart was on the mend
and though you liked me as a friend
love had always been untrue.
But I had Other Plans for you.

"That's 'Other Plans', the latest single from Trevor Trent, which is rapidly climbing the charts," the voice of Howdy Hayes, the DJ, broke in over the music. "And Trevor is here with me in the studio today. Hi Trevor."

"Great to be here, Howdy," Trevor's rich voice flowed like warm honey.

"And also with me is Cedar City's own Daniel Burnham, who, as many of you know, wrote the song. Hi Daniel."

"Hi," a quiet voice replied.

"Oh, wow, I didn't know that," Melissa said to PC's furry back as he crouched over his food dish. "I've probably seen him in the grocery store or at the Post Office and didn't even know it." PC's tail twitched in response.

"So tell me, Trevor," Howdy's voice continued, "how did you happen to find this song? Looks like it was a good choice."

"Yeah, it's taken off like a rocket. It might hit number one by this weekend, the way it's moving." Trevor paused for a second. "Well, a friend of mine in Nashville gave me Daniel's CD and told me I had to hear these songs. She was right. Daniel's a great writer." There was another pause.

"Thanks," said a barely audible voice. 

"There are two more of Daniel's songs on my latest CD. I think they're both as good, if not better than..."

"So Daniel, tell me," Howdy interrupted, "what was the inspiration for Other Plans?"

"My wife," Daniel's soft voice stated. "I wrote the song before we were married."

"Before she died so tragically?" Howdy interposed.

A strangled sound came through the radio.

"Ohh," Melissa gasped as if she'd been struck in the solar plexus.

"For those of you who don't know," Howdy droned on, "Cathy, Daniel's wife, was struck and killed by a car here in Cedar City about five months ago. Dan?" Howdy's voice took on a note of consternation.

Melissa remembered the story now. It had been prominently covered in the Cedar City Times. Cathy Burnham had dropped an earring in the street and when she'd bent down to retrieve it a car had come around the corner and hit her. It was later determined that the driver had been drinking. Cathy's father, a well-known local attorney, was currently seeking to ensure that the man got the maximum sentence.

"He's gone," Trevor said. "That was uncalled for, Howdy. I don't know him very well but from what I've seen that's one torn up human being."

"I can't help it if life is tough," Howdy remonstrated defensively. "It's true and most people know about it anyway."

"You didn't have to throw it in his face," Trevor replied edgily. There was a moment of silence. "Okay, okay, that's not what we're here for. I apologize for jumping on you."

The interview continued for several more minutes and ended with a pitch for Trevor's concert at the Krenshaw Pavilion.

Melissa turned off the radio and went back to work feeling stunned. As she typed she found her thoughts returning again and again to Daniel Burnham and the death of his wife. She had loved his song 'Other Plans' before she even knew anything about him but now the poignancy of the lyric was almost heartbreaking. She sang the words softly to herself.

I said, "Alright, I understand
that you won't love me on command;
I'll do what you want me to
but I have Other Plans for you."

I took my time and played my part
till my love had healed your heart
and then one day you were so amazed
when loved broke down the walls you'd raised;
you never knew they were so thin
till love came flooding in.

She laughed shakily when she discovered that her eyes had filled with tears. "Oh you poor man. You poor poor man," she sighed. PC, who'd followed her into the office and was now perched on top the monitor, flipped his tail in sympathy.

She didn't get as much work done as she'd hoped to that afternoon. Gusts of restless energy lifted her from her seat and caused her to pace through the apartment again and again. She felt a kinship with Daniel and her heart responded empathetically to the pain she imagined him feeling.


DANIEL SAT ON the patio of the house he'd inherited from his grandmother. This was the only place he'd found where he could get any relief. He gazed at the two large maple trees that stood in the far corners of the backyard. Losing himself in the soothing movement of the leaves as a breeze skipped through them; listening to the soft murmur.

He'd been holding her hand when suddenly she pulled away, saying something he didn't catch. He'd turned to watch her walk into the street as she searched for something. She'd bent down, reaching out, and then there was a car moving towards her. She'd turned. The sound. He'd never forget the sound of impact.

He wasn't even aware that he was gripping the arms of the chair with all his strength, that his jaw was clenched. He stared into the leaves, trying to lose himself again. Slowly the memories faded and he relaxed. He stared as if catatonic. Somewhere in the back of his mind, dimly, the images of the radio interview slid by but they really weren't important. He was listening to the rustling of the leaves.

"Hey buddy," a voice said.

Daniel convulsed and jerked around. His friend James Russell was standing a few feet away. He wore a very worried expression.

"Sorry Dan, I didn't mean to scare you." 

"Jesus, Jimmy. I didn't hear you come up." Daniel took a couple of deep 
breaths. "Sit down."

James took a seat in a nearby chair. "I heard the interview today," he said.

"Yeah, well, what there was of it," Daniel replied, rubbing his forehead. "I realized the second I walked into the station that I'd made a mistake. I never did like Howdy Hayes. Not very professional of me."

"Trevor Trent gave him a kick in the butt."

"I like Trevor."

They chatted for awhile and then James divulged the reason for his visit. "Dan, I need help at the club. Things have been kind of slow and I'd really appreciate it if you'd come in on Friday nights and play a set. Draw people in."

Daniel looked at him with a skeptical grimace. "Since when am I a big draw?"

"Since you got a song recorded by Trevor Trent. One that's now on its way to number one," James said. "Come on, how often do I ask you for a favor?"

"Not very often," Daniel conceded. "I owe you."

"So how about it."

"When?"

"I'd like you to start the second Friday in August and continue indefinitely."

"Are you going to pay me?" He knew from experience that it was useless to argue with James once he set his mind on something. So he might as well give in. What he wanted more than anything was just to be left alone.

"Of course," James said with a smile. He'd thought Daniel would be harder to convince. He rose to his feet and Daniel did too. They shook hands. "Are you going to Trevor Trent's concert on Saturday?"

"I don't know," Daniel said. "Probably not. Being around people wears me out. And I've got to build up my strength for playing at your club."

James was delighted to see a glimmer of Daniel's old sense of humor. He was beginning to think that his friend just might survive.

After James left Daniel returned to his chair and looked into the maple trees.

IN THE EVENING, after Melissa had eaten, she called her best friend Cynthia Liguori and chatted about the events of the day. Later, having suggested to Cynthia that they go, she went online to order tickets for the Trevor Trent concert on Saturday. She also used the search engine Gogol to ferret out all references to Daniel Burnham. There was enough information to warrant creating a folder and begin filling it with choice items. On one site she uncovered an email address. And on another she was able to hear a part of each of the songs on Daniel's CD. She really liked what she heard and ordered a copy.

When she woke up the next morning the seed of an idea was pushing green tendrils into the light: she would send Daniel an email. Throughout the day, as she worked, she stopped to jot down thoughts and phrases that seemed appropriate. By the end of the evening she'd completed the letter. Now all she needed was to find the courage to click on the "send" key. She wasn't quite ready.

The next day, Friday, passed quickly. After two days of turmoil she was finally able to focus on work. That afternoon she stopped by the hospital to pick up her paycheck and discuss a couple of work related problems with her supervisor. When she got home she fixed herself dinner and pulled up her email to Daniel on her personal computer. She changed a few things but decided, overall, that it said what she wanted to say. She still didn't have the courage to send it on its way.

At two o'clock on Saturday she drove to Cynthia's house. Walter, Cynthia's husband, had agreed to watch Anna and Walter, Jr., their two children, so the two women could spend the afternoon and evening together.

Cynthia and Walter lived in one of the older areas of Cedar City. The streets were wide and large stately old trees lined both sides. The two-story houses, set on extensive lots, basked in a sense of permanence and peace. 

"Come in Melissa," Walter said, as he opened the door. "Cyn will be down in a minute." He was a short man, somewhat chubby, with only a wispy fringe of salt and pepper hair. He exuded a quiet calm and his dark eyes were warm.

"Hi Mel," Cynthia trilled as she tripped down the stairs. "Be ready in a second." In contrast to her husband she was quick and vivacious. She trotted through the kitchen and out onto the wooden deck. Melissa could hear her speaking firmly to her two children. Walter and Melissa smiled vaguely at one another. Then Cynthia was back.

"Thank you, Baby, for watching the kids," she said, holding his face in her two hands and bending down slightly to give him a deep kiss. His hands grasped her waist.

"You two have fun," he responded, panting a little, after she'd stepped back to gather her purse from the coffee table.

It was always a little painful for Melissa to see them together. They were so different but fit together so well. And their obvious sense of companionship made her feel lonely.

"Come on Mel," Cynthia sang, "it's time for us to paint the town."

As they made their way to the University Mall in Melissa's little car Melissa told her friend everything she'd found out about Daniel Burnham and about the email she'd written. Cynthia listened with interest and asked questions but Melissa could tell she was a little uncomfortable.

Once they'd arrived at the mall, parked, and pushed through the heavy heat into the coolness inside the conversation had moved on to other things. They spent the afternoon chatting and laughing as they shopped. An hour or so before the concert they had dinner at a restaurant next to UICC and then, when it was time, walked across the campus to the Krenshaw Pavilion. The air, now the sun had gone down, was cooler and a light breeze had sprung up. Presenting their tickets they entered the pavilion and found their seats. 

The opening band performed a four song set which, both women agreed, was good but not great, and then decamped to make way for the main attraction. Once the members of his band were in place and the MC had introduced him Trevor Trent strode onto the stage, slipped his guitar strap over his shoulder, and stepped grinning up to the microphone. From that moment he had the audience in the palm of his hand and he never let go. He was a tall man with a teddy bear softness, sexy in a good natured way, and a complete entertainer who was willing to do what was necessary to put a song across. 

Melissa enjoyed the show but squirmed with impatience each time it became clear that the song was not "Other Plans". Finally the moment she'd been waiting for arrived.

"This is a song by one of ya'll's neighbors, Daniel Burnham...." Trevor announced. The crowd responded enthusiastically with clapping and a few yells. Melissa craned her neck trying to pinpoint someone looking like a songwriter near the stage. "I'm delighted to be able to tell you that it's now the number one record in the country." The crowd redoubled its efforts. Without another word Trevor launched into "Other Plans". Melissa felt a sharp stab of disappointment, realizing that her primary reason for attending the concert was to catch her first glimpse of Daniel Burnham.

Following "Other Plans" Trevor played the two other songs of Daniel's that he'd recorded. Melissa liked them but neither grabbed her the way that "Other Plans" had. After that her concentration waned. By the end of the concert she was more than ready to go home.

"I had a great time, as usual," Cynthia said as she climbed out of the car after it had come to a stop in front of her house. Melissa popped the trunk lid and Cynthia gathered her purchases. "Daniel really is a very talented man," she added, coming around to the driver's side and seeing that Melissa had rolled down her window. "So's Trevor Trent. Thank you for inviting me."

"I was hoping to see him," Melissa said.

"I know you were," her friend replied. In the dim light from the porch Melissa could see the tenseness in Cynthia's face.

"What?" She said.

"Oh Mel, I'm afraid this is another one of your impossible quests. I hate to see you get hurt." This was an old issue between them. More times than she cared to recall she'd seen her friend seek out men who were emotionally distant and then spiral into anguish and depression when, after a few glittering moments of intimacy, they pulled away. It had been almost two years since the last one and she'd hoped that Melissa had gotten past whatever it was that drew her into these relationships. But this had all the signs of being one more run down a well-beaten track.

"I haven't even met the guy," Melissa said defensively. "But it breaks my heart that he can't even enjoy having a number one song. He should have been there."

"Maybe he was and he just didn't want to go on stage."

"I don't think so," Melissa said. "I think I would have known if he was."

Cynthia had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She looked at her friend with a sigh. And mentally prepared herself for another stint of tears and hand holding. "Well, anyway, I enjoyed the concert, and our day of shopping. I'll talk with you soon," she said, turning towards the door.

"Goodnight," Melissa called after her. She waited until Cynthia was inside before driving away.

She couldn't get Daniel out of her head. She imagined him alone somewhere too tangled up in his own pain to enjoy his triumph. It almost felt good to feel so sad for him. It sure felt better than trying to make sense of her own sadness and turmoil.

When she got home PC came stalking out to greet her, tail in the air. She had the impression that he was scolding her for staying out so late. She grinned at him. The moment she sat down to turn on her computer he jumped in her lap. She stroked him as she got online and opened her email program. He purred as she deleted a bunch of spam messages. Nothing good. She pulled up her email to Daniel. She looked at it for several long minutes. Then, with a huge sigh, she pressed "send". It was gone. PC looked at her and flicked his tail.

Later, as she lay in bed, she heard Trevor Trent singing "Other Plans" in her head. She remembered what he'd looked like on stage. As she recollected the last verse she thought of Daniel.

And when that night you touched my arm
I thought it was a false alarm;
then you smiled and I could see
you had Other Plans for me.

Would that happen? She wondered. With anyone? Ever? Tears filled her eyes. She felt so lonely. She realized that what touched her so deeply about Daniel's song was the idea of a healing love. Someone caring enough to do what was needed. God knew she needed healing. And she knew Daniel did as well. "Oh Daniel," she whispered into the dark, "I have other plans for you." PC let out a small squeak.

All She Ever Wanted Ch. 02



For the first couple of days after sending Daniel the email Melissa kept her email program up and checked it constantly. Nothing. She consoled herself with the thought that at least she hadn't gotten a notice saying it couldn't be delivered.

She did get the copy of Daniel's CD that she'd ordered. And began to play it constantly. "Other Plans" was still her favorite but she liked a couple of the other songs almost as much.

As the days passed her sense of anticipation flagged. After two weeks she was back to her regular routine of checking her email only once a day.

DANIEL HAD GOTTEN out of the habit of reading his email on a regular basis. He hardly turned on his computer at all anymore. He wasn't trying to write. He'd lost interest in the music business. There didn't seem to be much point.

But today he'd happened to wander into his office for something and remembered that he probably should take a look. There wasn't much. It had been months since he'd sent anyone an email and the spam filtering software he'd installed took care of most of the junk. There were a few things. He opened one from someone named Melissa Fleming.

Hello Daniel Burnham,

I found your email address online and decided I really wanted to write you.

I love your song "Other Plans". The idea of someone caring enough to want to unselfishly heal another's heart means a lot to me. And it was wonderful how the person who was healed was then able to love again. It's a great song. Thank you for writing it. 

By the way, we're neighbors! I live in Cedar City too. Maybe we'll meet one day.

All the best,

Melissa

He wasn't sure what it was about this short letter that caught his attention but as the days passed every now and then the thought of it would enter his mind. He even went back and reread it a couple of times. But every time he considered sending her a reply all he could think of were the potential complications. And that thought made him feel tired and drained.

ON A QUIET SUNDAY afternoon, almost a month later, Melissa came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to respond. In the meantime she'd looked in the phone book and obtained his number. But she didn't have the courage to call him. So, not knowing what else to do, she went online and used the Gogol search engine again. To her delight she was directed to a notice for a personal appearance Daniel would be making at Strange Brew, a local club with a microbrewery that featured live entertainment, the following Friday.

The days seemed to go by exceedingly slowly but at last Friday evening arrived and she was crossing the threshold into Strange Brew with her stomach fluttering with nervousness. The first thing she noticed was that it was a young crowd, mostly University students. Sitting down at one of the small circular tables with an enclosed candle flickering in the center, she saw that the small stage was filled with a drum kit, keyboard, and a couple of electric guitars on stands. In front there was a stool, microphones, and an acoustic guitar.

When the waitress came around to her table she ordered one of the beers brewed in-house. Sipping it she waited, glancing at her watch in the dim light. Just as she was beginning to wonder if Daniel was actually going to appear a tall gangly man with a shock of black hair made his way to the stage.

"Good evening folks," he said into one of the microphones. "I'm James Russell, the owner of Strange Brew. And I want you all to welcome an amazing songwriter who lives right here in Cedar City. He's just had his first number one record but I know there will be more to come. Please welcome Cedar City's own... Daniel Burnham." Melissa joined the crowd in applauding enthusiastically. A man of medium height with short sand colored hair and round eye glasses in wire frames rose from one of the tables near the stage. 

"Thanks," he said into the microphone after he'd picked up the acoustic guitar and settled himself on the stool. She noticed, as he introduced the first song, that he seemed quite comfortable being in the spotlight although there was an odd strained quality in his manner, as if he were pushing himself through this by sheer will power. Once, however, he lost himself in playing the song, it was as if a switch had been flipped; there was a passionate intensity that made her sit on the edge of her seat. She knew all but two of the eight songs he played, since they'd been on the CD she'd ordered. One of them was "Other Plans". 

When he was finished he carried his guitar offstage to tumultuous applause. Standing by the table he'd vacated earlier he acknowledged the crowd's response with a forced smile and half bows. As soon as the clapping died down he bent over to place his guitar in a case that had been leaning on the table. It was as if he'd wrapped himself in a force-field of reserve. Melissa saw several people begin to approach him and then back away. He didn't even seem to notice. He picked up the guitar case and began walking rapidly toward the back of the room. Melissa quickly drank the last of her beer and hurried after him.

Fearful that he'd left already she moved towards the door while searching the room. Then she caught sight of him standing by the end of the bar. He and James Russell were talking. Melissa walked towards them, feeling awkward. James handed him an envelope, patted his shoulder, and turned to speak to one of his bartenders.

"Mr. Burnham," she said. She hated hearing the quaver in her voice.

He turned to look at her.

"Hi. I'm Melissa Fleming. I wanted you to know that I really love your songs, especially 'Other Plans'." It came out in a torrent.

"Thanks," he said. Still looking at her, a bit vacantly she thought.

Close up, seeing his eyes, she had a sense of profound weariness. Out of the corner of her eye she saw James conclude the conversation with his employee, glance at her, glance at Daniel, and then move away.

"You're the one who sent me the email," Daniel said.

It startled her. She felt her heart begin to hammer against her ribs and her breath shorten. "Yes," she replied.

"I apologize for not getting back to you but... I don't know how much you know about my circumstances..."

"I know about your wife," she said. It made her cringe to see the look of deep pain flash across his face.

"Yeah, well, I don't have too much energy these days. Even for my friends." He put up his hand as if shooing away a troublesome fly. At that moment James introduced the band that had been setting up and they launched into a wall shaking rock and roll number. "Would you mind if we went outside," Daniel yelled over the sound. She shook her head and turned to lead the way. "The only reason I'm doing this every Friday is because Jimmy asked me and I owe him a few," he continued after they'd reached the relative quiet of the sidewalk outside. "He thinks having a famous songwriter perform will sell more of his beer." He said "famous" in such a way that it included the quotation marks. "Plus he's concerned about me and thinks I should get out more," he added with a smile that looked more like a grimace.

They were standing face to face on the sidewalk as people moved past them. With a slight inviting jerk of his head he began to walk to the parking lot. Neither of them spoke as, side by side, they moved between the rows of cars. He stopped beside a small late-model pickup truck, opened the door, and carefully placed the guitar case on the passenger's side. With his hands free he stood next to the open door and faced her.

"It was nice to meet you Melissa," he said, extending his hand. "I did like your letter."

She felt a current run up her arm and her body respond as her hand was enveloped in his. His clasp was warm and firm.

"Goodnight Daniel," she said. Using his first name gave her a feeling of intimacy.

Without another word he got into his truck and with a quick wave and half smile he was gone.

As she drove home she tried to analyze her feelings. In some ways the meeting was more successful than she'd anticipated. She hadn't expected him to mention the email. And he seemed willing to talk to her. But, on the other hand, he hadn't shown any real interest in learning anything about her. Mostly he'd talked about himself and hadn't made any attempt to find out how to contact her or suggest that they meet again. But since she now knew that he was scheduled to play at Strange Brew every Friday that wouldn't be a problem. The main question, she concluded as she drove into her space at the apartment complex, was whether or not she wanted to see him again. Putting it that way made her laugh with more than a little chagrin. And brought to mind the old joke about bears in the woods.

The next Friday, with Cynthia and Walter in tow, she was back at Strange Brew. The scene was much the same as it was the week before. But this time she recognized Daniel sitting at the table in front. His hands rested on his thighs and he was gazing at the flickering candle as if mesmerized, seemingly oblivious to the activity around him.

"Does he have a band?" Cynthia asked after they'd settled down at one of the small tables. Melissa could see that she was looking at all the instruments on stage.

"No, there's a band that comes on after he's done," she replied. "That's him at that table next to the stage." Both Cynthia and Walter turned to look.

"Doesn't appear to be very sociable," Cynthia observed.

"He's probably preparing himself for performing," Melissa said. She was surprised to hear the sharpness in her voice and smiled abashedly at Cynthia's look of mock dismay, realizing she felt protective of Daniel.

A short time later James Russell made his introduction and Daniel took his place on stage. Melissa watched her two friends carefully and was gratified to see that they both seemed impressed.

"He's very good," Walter said once between songs. The rest of the crowd seemed to feel the same way because they clapped and cheered loudly at the end of each song.

Melissa felt a little let down when Daniel played the same songs he'd done the week before. Once again, upon finishing his set, after acknowledging the appreciation of the audience, he packed his guitar and headed towards the back of the room. With an apologetic glance at her friends she sprang up to follow him, trusting that they could manage by themselves. This time his back was to her as he received his pay envelope. James saw her coming and said something to him she couldn't hear. Daniel turned. 

"Hi Daniel," she said.

"Hi," he responded. She wasn't even sure he recognized her. He had the same look of profound fatigue.

"I'd like you to meet my friends Walter and Cynthia Liguori," she said as they approached. He reached out to shake hands.

"And this is my friend James Russell," he said. "This is Melissa, the woman I was telling you about," he added, turning to James. James lifted his hand in a greeting.

There was a moment of awkwardness and then Daniel picked up his guitar case and said good night to James. When he started for the door Melissa followed with her two friends behind her. He stopped on the sidewalk and looked at her. 

"I'm not sure what you want. I'm not very good company these days," he said softly. Cynthia and Walter glanced at each other uncomfortably.

Melissa didn't know what to say. "Maybe we could all go for coffee or something," she said after a long moment of silence.

"We've got to be going, Mel," Cynthia said. "We told the sitter we'd only be gone a couple of hours. It was nice to meet you Daniel." Walter smiled at him. Daniel nodded. Melissa, feeling a little hurt, said goodnight as her friends walked away.

"Can you take a rain check on that coffee?" He asked. "I'm really not up to it tonight. Maybe next week?"

"Okay," she said. She was sure he could hear the disappointment in her voice. And yet, at the same time, the realization that he assumed she would be coming again next Friday made her heart beat a little faster.

He nodded again, turned, and walked toward the parking lot. She waited for a minute and then slowly moved in the same direction. As she was unlocking her car she saw his truck turn into the street and drive away.

As she expected, Cynthia called her the next morning. They chatted for awhile and then Cynthia broached the primary reason for her call. "Mel, that man doesn't have anything to give you. All that's left is a burned out shell."

"But he's written such wonderful songs," Melissa protested. "There's got to be more."

"Oh Mel," her friend said, "Can't you see? He's choosing not to live. Walter thinks he wants to join his wife. This world doesn't mean a thing to him."

"You sure got a lot out of a ten minute meeting," Melissa said angrily. "Of course he's grieving. His wife died six months ago."

"Mel, I've seen you do this before," Cynthia said. "You feel safe when a man keeps you at a distance. But that's never going to give you a satisfying relationship."

"Oh, thanks a lot for the dime store psychology," Melissa snarled. "I can see he's hurting and I want to help. When did I ever say anything about a relationship with him?" Her friend was silent.

Aware of the explosive nature of the subject they both made an effort to steer the conversation into calmer waters so that by the time they hung up their earlier disagreement was almost forgotten. But Melissa found herself feeling depressed as she spent a couple of hours working on medical transcription. She quit earlier than she was scheduled to and, after pacing around the apartment for awhile, went to lie down. PC hopped up on the bed with her and snuggled against her back. She felt that he was aware of her upset and was trying to comfort her.

For some reason she found herself thinking of her father. Dear old dad. The lovable Prof. Fleming. Everyone thought so highly of the warm-hearted Professor: his students, fellow faculty members, those in the administration. But Professor Fleming's dirty little secret was that he gave so much of himself away at school that he didn't have much left for his family. Especially, it seemed, his brown-skinned girl child. Home, for him, was a place to hide and drink his gin and tonics.

His first wife had died of a pulmonary embolism and left him with two young sons. He'd hired one of his ex-students, Maria Sanchez, to take care of them. And then married her. Melissa had been born less than nine months after the ceremony.

Melissa sometimes had the image of her dad as a man in a parade, sitting in an open convertible, throwing candy to the crowd. But no matter how fast she scrambled she never could seem to catch a piece. And the sight of all these people around her tearing off the bright colored wrapper and filling their mouths made her so hungry. And so sad.

She felt the tears slide down her cheeks. She pulled herself tighter into a fetal position, protecting her belly with her arms. It hurt so much. It always did.



All She Ever Wanted Ch. 03



For the first time since he'd started Daniel realized that he was actually looking forward to playing at the club. His usual attitude of stoic willfulness had been replaced by a feeble glow of anticipation. It was as if a pinpoint of light had appeared at the end of a very dark, very long, tunnel. A faint breath of hope seemed to waft through the darkness. It made him think that perhaps the day would come when he'd stand in the sunlight and feel the warmth seep into his skin again, full of the joy of being alive. It seemed far away. There was a lot of unknown ground to cover between here and there. But the hope was there.

THAT FRIDAY WAS much the same as the first two up to the point where Daniel left the stage, put his guitar in its case, and walked toward the back of the room. This time he stopped at her table.

"I believe we made a date for coffee," he said. She noticed that he didn't seem so listless and withdrawn.

"I believe you're right," she smiled, getting to her feet. Her heart sang a little to know that he'd remembered. She followed him to the back of the room and stood quietly as he and James took care of their business. James greeted her with more warmth than he'd previously displayed.

She walked Daniel to his truck, waited while he stowed his guitar, and then they crossed the street together and entered the Elm Street Cafe, famous for its sticky buns. Several minutes later they were seated in a booth, gazing at each other across a small table. A waiter, obviously a University student, took their coffee orders.

"So, how was your week?" He queried.

She gave him a brief rundown, pleased that he'd asked.

"How was yours?" She felt an empathetic pang when she saw how his eyes went dull.

"I got through it. It's getting a little better all the time."

"Are you doing any writing?" She asked. 

"Bits and pieces. A line here, a line there." He bent his head and looked at the table for a long moment. "I lost my muse."

"I'm sure you'll find a new one," she said, trying to do it lightly but almost certain she'd failed.

"Can we talk about something else?" He said. "This is kind of painful. Tell me about yourself."

"Not a whole lot to tell. I was born in Albuquerque and spent most of my life there. My dad teaches at the community college and mom's a housewife although in the last couple of years she's been getting into real estate."

"Siblings?"

"I have two older brothers from my dad's first marriage. Their mom died. I'm the only child my mom and dad had together. My brothers and I were never really close but they had fun with me." She looked at him with a guarded smile and gave a little shrug. "Not very exciting."

"How did you end up in Cedar City?"

"Well, to make a very long story short I came here to visit my friend Cynthia, the one you met, about three years ago. I liked it here so I stayed. How about you?"

"I was born here," he said. "I've traveled some but always came back. My grandmother died about eleven years ago and left me her house and a bit of money. That's when I really began to focus on my music."

They continued to talk. The conversation, for the most part, flowed easily and when it didn't even the silences were reasonably comfortable. Then she glanced at her watch.

"Oh, goodness," she said, "I've got to work in the morning. I didn't realize how late it was." She stood up and he followed suit, picking up the check.

"It's nice to have a friend, Melissa," he said. "Of course I've got James. And Trevor and I have been exchanging a few emails..."

"Trevor Trent!?"

He smiled at her surprise. "Yeah, I met him in Nashville several years ago and then, just recently, at the radio station and I guess I made an impression. Anyway, I was starting to say that it's different having a woman for a friend. There are a lot of things guys don't feel comfortable talking about with other guys."

"I've never really had male friends. I like Walter, you know, Cynthia's husband, but I wouldn't say we're really friends. We don't talk all that much."

"I've had a few women friends. Cathy..." Daniel's face went stiff; she could see the muscles of his jaw clenching. He turned and quickly moved to the cashier's counter and paid for their coffee. "I'm sorry," he said as he met her at the door, "It still catches me by surprise."

"It's okay, I understand," Melissa said as they pushed through the door and onto the sidewalk.

"Cathy was my best friend long before we decided to get married. I really miss her." There was a raw edge to his voice.

Melissa didn't know what to say so she touched him lightly on the arm. He turned for a brief moment and gave her a rueful smile. They walked across the street in silence.

"I've really enjoyed this," Daniel said as they approached his truck. "Jimmy thinks you're good for me," he added with a chuckle. "See you next week?"

"I'll be here," Melissa smiled. She waited until he'd climbed into his truck and started it and then with a wave headed for her car.

As she drove to her apartment she happily reviewed the events of the evening. It was clear that Daniel was beginning to come out of his shell. She did have to admit to herself, though, that she felt a twinge every time he mentioned Cathy. It was hard to fight a ghostly rival.

The next morning, before starting work, she called Cynthia and gave her the latest news.

"Maybe I was wrong," her friend said. "From what you've told me he does seem to be more alive than when I saw him." She paused. "And I have to say that you don't seem as desperate as you have been in the past."

Melissa smiled to herself and thought of the words of Daniel's song: 'I took my time and played my part till my love had healed your heart'. Those were the words she was living by now. "I like him. I like being with him," she told Cynthia. "I'm not trying to push this into any particular box. We're friends."

"That's unusual for you," Cynthia said. "I can't remember your ever just being friends with a man."

"Yeah," Melissa said, "that's what I told Daniel. Walter comes closer than anyone but it's not like we have a whole lot to say to each other."

"You could," Cynthia 

interjected, "Walter thinks highly of you."

Melissa was silent. She was a little shocked to learn that Walter thought highly of her. And had told Cynthia. But what was even more amazing was the realization that her attitude toward men had somehow changed without her being aware of the shift. She could actually imagine being Walter's friend.

"Mel?" Cynthia said.

"Yeah, I'm here. You threw me for a loop there." She smiled as she listened to her friend's warm laugh. "This is the first time it's truly sunk in that on some level I don't really like men. Or didn't. Or something."

"I'd say that's progress," Cynthia said. "I don't claim to understand what's going on but I've always known there was a way you weren't giving guys much of a chance."

"Well, I'm going to have to give this some thought. Thanks for the insight."

"Anytime kiddo," Cynthia said. Melissa could almost see her grinning.

"I'll talk with you later. I've got to get to work," Melissa said.

"Later," Cynthia said as she hung up.

THAT SAME MORNING Daniel woke up with the idea for a complete song flitting through his consciousness, for the first time in many months. Before doing anything else he picked up his guitar and began searching for the chords that would best fit the melody that played in his head. Within an hour he was able to get a rough version put down on his digital recording system. It wasn't very good; he didn't have any illusions about its quality. But that didn't really matter. What was important was the fact that he was writing again. It felt wonderful.

As he made breakfast he listened to a couple of his favorite musicians, Rodney Crowell and Aaron Neville. Something else he hadn't 

done for much too long a time. 

For once he wasn't inclined to sit outside in his favorite chair so he opted for one in the bright sun-filled kitchen. After he'd eaten and the music had ended he continued to sit. But it was different from before. He wasn't trying to lose himself in order to hide from the pain. 

He thought about his conversation with Melissa the previous evening. And about her rounded brown face, the sparkle in her dark eyes, and her vivid smile. The memory made him feel warm inside. 

Running his mind over all the things they'd discussed he remembered her comment about her brothers and recalled that it had struck him at the time as an odd thing to say. And oddly familiar. But he wasn't in the mood to spend much time trying to solve the puzzle. He wanted to relive the feeling of vitality and comfort he felt when they were together.

SHE WENT TO Strange Brew, as she'd promised, the next Friday. And she and Daniel had gone out for coffee again. This became an established pattern that continued through September and into October. Neither of them suggested that they meet at any other time but, for both of them, the Friday night conversations became the high point of their week. 

As they grew better acquainted they realized they were very different in a lot of ways but it didn't seem to matter. They simply liked each other. Their differences actually made the friendship more interesting.

Melissa had a sense of exploring uncharted territory. For the first time in her life she was able to be friends with a man without needing to become more involved. There were moments when she was aware of Daniel's attractiveness and felt her body respond in an almost abstract way but she never felt driven to act on her feelings. Partly because she'd vowed to take her time and play her part but also because she was aware that Daniel's emotional energy was so focused on grieving for Cathy that he wasn't available for anything more than a non-physical friendship.

But she could clearly see, as each week passed, that he was slowly moving out of the dark place he'd been in when they met. A couple of times she'd talked with James, who was also becoming something of a friend, and he'd told her how scary it had been for him to watch Daniel's almost total withdrawal after Cathy died. And how relieved he was to see Daniel beginning to recover.

Concurrently she found herself opening up with Walter. Being friends with a man was almost like having a new toy and she itched to play with it every chance she could. And, like Daniel, Walter was safe. He wasn't going to push for anything physical.

The first time had caught her by surprise. She'd gone to visit Cynthia on a Sunday afternoon in early October and they'd talked for a couple of hours, sitting in the kitchen over coffee while the two children played in the next room. She was aware that Walter was home but hadn't seen him. Then, the coffee having reached the point where nature started calling, she excused herself and walked down the hallway to the bathroom. Along the way she passed Walter's little office. The door was open and he was sitting at his computer with his back to her. 

"Hi," she said as she went by. He raised his hand in greeting.

On her way back she stopped and looked in. "Whatcha doing?"

"Hi Melissa," he said, swivelling his chair around. "Just doing some research on some of the mutual funds we've invested in. Gets kind of boring after awhile. How are you doing? How's Daniel?"

"Daniel's fine. I talked with him Friday. I'm fine too." There was a long moment of silence during which they gazed at each other with unfocused smiles. Before this she would have said 'well, so long' and returned to the kitchen. But remembering what Cynthia had said a month ago about Walter thinking highly of her she decided to reach out for something more. It took her a minute to work up the courage.

"Walter, do you have many women friends... besides Cynthia?" She asked.

His smile was suddenly full and warm. She had the feeling that he and Cynthia had discussed her problems with men. It made her feel exposed and cared for at the same time.

"Come in Melissa, have a seat," he said, gesturing toward a chair against the wall. "Yes, a couple of the women I work with. I wouldn't say we're real close but I do consider them to be friends. We can talk about most things."

"So you feel it's possible for men and women to be just friends?" She asked as she sat down.

"Oh, I don't know about 'just' friends. Friendship is important," he said. "Plus I've discovered with Cynthia that a man and a woman can be involved on all the other levels and still be friends. It seems to me that it's a matter of developing trust and learning to be open with each other. Which isn't always easy. So yeah, I think it's possible."

"You know, I'm thirty-six and Daniel is the first man in my life I think of as a friend. Besides you. But you and I never really talked before." She felt more than a little flustered bringing up the last part but Walter seemed unfazed.

"I've always liked you Melissa," he said with a gentle smile. "But for most of the time I've known you I've felt that there was a wall between us. I didn't know why. I still don't. I have the impression, though, that your experience with men has taught you not to trust them."

Her hands were tightly clasped together, pressing into her closed thighs. It was strange for her to realize that while the subject of the conversation was disturbing to her she felt comfortable with Walter. "Until I met you I didn't even know men like you existed," she said softly.

"And he's not the only one," a voice said from the doorway. She looked up to find Cynthia smiling at her. "I suspect that because all you expected to find were the kind of men you were familiar with you couldn't even see the ones who were different. I can't tell you how happy I am to see that changing."

"Could we talk about something else?" Melissa asked. "I think I've been psychoanalyzed enough for one day."

"Sure," Walter said with a grin. "Whatever you want to talk about. But why don't we adjourn to the kitchen where we can all have a seat. I could use a cup of coffee myself."

The three of them had discussed a variety of topics into the early evening. By the time she left Melissa felt certain that this conversation was only the first of many.



All She Ever Wanted Ch. 04



"Hey man, this is Trevor Trent. How're you doin'?"

Daniel had assumed that it was Jimmy who was calling him so he didn't respond immediately. "Hi Trevor," he said, once he'd oriented himself. "I'm doing okay. Actually I'm doing a lot better."

"That's great Daniel. I'm glad to hear it. I really am. You weren't doing too good the last time I saw you. Well, the reason I'm calling is that I have a gig in Des Moines on the fifteenth and I'd like to swing through Cedar City on the fourteenth. Rebecca, my wife, is planning to be with me. She'd really like to meet you. Would you be up for something like that?"

"Uh, I guess so," Daniel said, feeling a little stunned. "Yeah, I would, in fact," he added with more assurance.

"Great!" Trevor exclaimed. "We'd like to spend the day with you if that would be possible."

"Yeah, it's possible. It's not like I have a heavy schedule right now," Daniel said with a brief laugh. "Could I invite a couple of friends along?"

"Hey! Sure man. No problem. Your friends are my friends. I'll email you the details as soon as we figure out what they are. It'll be great to hang out with you."

"I'm looking forward to it too," Daniel said, a little surprised to realize that indeed he was.

"All set then, man. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

"Goodbye Trevor."

"YOU WANT ME to spend the day with you and Trevor Trent?" Melissa burst out, her voice thick with alarm. Daniel had just extended the invitation during their weekly coffee klatch at the Elm Street Cafe. It made her abruptly aware of the difference in their worlds; he could hobnob with rising stars while the closest she'd come to stars was looking into the heavens at night. She felt inadequate.

"Yes, I would," he said, somewhat puzzled by her reaction. He'd thought she'd be thrilled. "You're my friend and I'd like you to be there. It should be fun."

"I don't have anything to wear," she wailed. He laughed.

"I'm sorry," he said, still grinning. "This in not some formal event, Melissa; it's just some friends getting together. James is going to be there too. And Trevor's wife."

"Oh," she said. Somehow knowing that Trevor's wife was going to be there too was even more intimidating than Trevor himself. "What are we all going to do?"

"I don't really know yet," he said. "Probably go out to eat. Maybe spend some time at my place. I'm having a cleaning service come in just in case. I wouldn't want to invite anybody over the way it is now; I haven't exactly kept things up."

It touched her to know that he seemed to feel some insecurity too. "I could help," she offered.

"No, that's all right," he said. "That's what cleaning services are for. Thanks anyway." He paused. "So, what do you think? Would you like to join us?"

"I guess so," she replied, trying to ignore the fluttering in her stomach.

"Good," he said, briefly touching her hand where it lay on the table.

The conversation moved on to other things but in the back of her mind there was a droning sense of dread. What if she made a fool of herself in front of Trevor and his wife? What would Daniel think of her then?

As soon as she got home she called Cynthia.

"Wow, Trevor Trent!" Her friend practically screamed. "Can you get me his autograph?"

"No way in hell, Cynthia," Melissa snapped. "I'm not going to meet this guy for the first time and start asking for autographs. The whole thing scares me silly as it is."

"Yeah, you're right," Cynthia said, calming down. "I can understand why you'd feel that way."

"Well, I'm getting used to the idea," Melissa stated, not liking how easily Cynthia could picture her as a frightened waif.

"Believe me, I'm envious," her friend said. "I'd love to meet Trevor Trent. He seems like a real sweety pie."

"Maybe you will sometime. If I don't make a complete idiot of myself."

"You'll do fine," Cynthia said soothingly. "You're quite capable of holding your own with anyone." A masculine voice shouted something in the background. "Did you hear? Walter agrees with me." Melissa felt warmed by the reassurance of her two friends.

They talked for a while longer, mostly about what would be best for her to wear. And then said goodnight.

"I'm going to meet Trevor Trent," she said to PC after hanging up the phone. PC looked at her for a long moment before closing his eyes. His tail switched. Then he yawned.

Time scudded past. On the Friday before the meeting Daniel informed her that they'd be getting together with Trevor and Rebecca for brunch at the Elm Street Cafe next Thursday. After that there would be a small reception for Trevor at the radio station. What happened following that would be decided at the time.

On Wednesday night Daniel called her, which was the first time he'd done so, and verified that the brunch would begin at 10:00 a.m. He offered to pick her up but after a short discussion they established that they'd drive in separately.

The next morning Melissa was a bundle of nerves. PC picked up on her anxiety and began tearing around the apartment, something he'd done only a couple of times since leaving kittenhood behind. She changed her clothes three times. At last it was time to go.

"Well, buddy, this is it," she said to her furry companion. He stalked down the hall with his tail in the air.

Daniel was waiting for her outside the cafe. They were both early. As she walked across the street she could see signs that he was nervous too. They grinned at each other.

"Good morning," Daniel said. "I guess we could go inside and sit on the bench since it's kind of chilly out here."

"Morning," she replied. "Yes, I would like to go inside." They entered and sat side by side in the entranceway. There were only a few people in the cafe, most of them drinking coffee along the long counter in front. "Is James going to be here too?" She asked.

"He's going to meet us at the radio station," Daniel answered.

They chatted for several minutes and then, at the appointed time, a large man pushed through the door followed by a diminutive woman with short blond hair and intense blue eyes. It took Melissa a moment to comprehend that this was Trevor; instead of his cowboy costume he was wearing a sweatshirt and jeans under a plain denim jacket. The woman looked more elegant in a long leather coat but would have fit in anywhere in Cedar City. Melissa had to smile to herself about her concerns about what to wear.

"Hey man," Trevor boomed as he grasped Daniel's hand, "good to see you. This is my wife, Rebecca."

"This is my friend Melissa," Daniel said, after shaking the small woman's hand.

"Great to meet you," Trevor said, engulfing her hand in his big paw.

"Hi Melissa," Rebecca said, taking her hand once Trevor had let it go.

Rebecca took off her coat to reveal an outfit similar to Trevor's and then they made their way to a table and sat down. Melissa noticed that there was a sudden bustle of activity in the cafe as two of the patrons paid for their coffee and hurried outside. A waitress scurried over with a coffee carafe in hand and filled their cups before flitting off to obtain the tea that Rebecca had ordered. 

They spent a couple of minutes reading the menus and placing their orders.

"Oh man," Trevor said, once the waitress had departed. "It's great to have a day to just relax. I love performing but all the traveling can exhaust a man." He gave Daniel an appraising look. "I must say Daniel, you look a hell of a lot better than you did the last time I was here."

"I feel better," Daniel replied. "Melissa's helped me a lot. Along with my friend Jimmy who you'll be meeting later."

Trevor and Rebecca both turned to look a her. Melissa felt herself blushing.

"How did you two meet?" Rebecca asked. "Have you known each other long?"

"I heard the radio interview in August and contacted him," Melissa said.

"And I ignored her," Daniel laughed. "Until she started coming to the club I've been playing at on Friday nights. Jimmy, the friend I mentioned, owns it. And we just seemed to hit it off."

"That's great," Trevor said. "It seems to have done you a world of good. Have you been doing any writing lately?"

The conversation drifted along, mostly involving the music business. Their food arrived and they turned their attention to satisfying their appetites. As they ate Melissa realized that the cafe was filling up with people who kept looking in their direction. Finally a few brave souls approached and asked Trevor for his autograph. He always complied with good humor.

"And here's the man who wrote 'Other Plans'," he said each time. "You want to be sure to get his John Henry too. The boy's just getting started, mark my words." So Daniel ended up giving them his autograph as well.

Melissa was a little amazed to realize that she felt comfortable with both Trevor and Rebecca. Both of them included her as completely as they did Daniel. Once again she had to secretly smile at her earlier apprehensions.

"Well, that hit the spot," Trevor said, leaning back with a glance at his watch. "We've got about half an hour before I have to make my appearance at the radio station. Any thoughts on what to do in the meantime?"

"The station's about five blocks from here," Daniel responded. "Why don't we walk down there. We can show you some of the sights... such as they are."

"Sounds good to me," Rebecca said, looking at Trevor. Trevor nodded.

They stood and Daniel snatched up the check just as Trevor reached for it. Trevor laughed and held up his hand. "Okay, you win this time, but I get the next one."

As Daniel paid they put on their jackets and coats. Melissa handed Daniel his jacket and he shrugged it on as they made their way outside. "Go left," he said to Trevor and Rebecca who were in front of them, holding hands.

Once they'd completed their brief tour of the business district adjoining the University they arrived at the radio station which was located on one of the nearby side streets. 

"Whoa!" Trevor exclaimed as they walked in. "I wasn't expecting the red carpet treatment." The front office had been turned into a reception area with large trays of veggies and dip and sandwich making materials laid out on trays on the desks. On a small table by itself there was a capacious punch bowl filled with a pink liquid. On the back wall was a hand-lettered sign that read, 'Welcome Trevor Trent - You're #1' Three women and three men stood to the side, applauding.

Following a moment of confusion Don Baker, the station manager, introduced his staff. One of the women was the evening DJ, another was a secretary, and the last was the receptionist. The second man was the afternoon DJ. The third man, not a staff member but a friend of the station, was James. Don pointed out that Howdy Hayes could be seen through a sizable window in the side wall as he worked in the studio finishing up the last half hour of his show. Howdy waved when he saw everyone's face turned toward him.

"If I'd known this was going to be a real shindig I would have dressed up," Trevor said.

"We were going to do something the last time you were here but your schedule was too tight," Gina, the evening DJ, said.

"You look pretty good to me," Judy, the receptionist, threw in.

"This is Rebecca, my wife," Trevor said with a meaningful grin. "She's the engine that powers my success." He then introduced Daniel and Melissa.

"It's okay to look," Rebecca said dryly, responding to Judy's somewhat crestfallen expression. "And Honey," she added, turning to her husband, "we're both engines, like on the wings of an airplane. It wouldn't fly without two of them."

"Thank you, Sweetheart," Trevor replied, giving her a one-armed hug.

"I like that idea, two engines," Heather, the secretary, said.

"I love your song 'Other Plans'," said Michael D, the afternoon DJ, approaching Daniel with his hand outstretched. Melissa felt out of place and backed away, into the corner.

"You might as well get something to eat," James said as he slid in beside her with a plate heaped high. He set a plastic cup of punch on the desk behind them. "The two stars are going to be doing the music business tango for the next hour or so."

"We just ate," Melissa replied with a smile that she hoped would show her appreciation for his company. "What's in the punch?"

"Something fruity and something fizzy," James said. "Nothing with any kick, though. It's not bad. For a PG rated beverage."

Melissa watched as Trevor and Daniel interacted with the radio station staff. Trevor was obviously the pro but Daniel handled himself well, she thought. She noticed how they slowly moved closer together and began working as a team. More people arrived and soon the room was quite crowded.

"Daniel looks better than I've seen him look in a long time," James said, between mouthfuls of food. "You've had a salubrious effect."

Melissa laughed at his choice of words. "It's not like I've done much. We talk. We're getting to know each other," she said.

"It's done him good, whatever it was," James stated. "Want to accompany me back to the trough?" He asked, holding up his empty plate. She laughed, and nodded.

They made their way through the room, now filled with people.And then she stood to the side as he picked through the remnants of the deli trays. As soon as he'd finished they headed for the punch bowl. Just as they'd filled their plastic glasses and started to turn to head back to their corner Howdy Hayes emerged from the studio through a door next to the table where the punch bowl resided.

Melissa could see Howdy's eyes flick over her body, processing the negatives, and dismissing her in less than a second. She could almost hear him saying to himself: fat, butt too big, tits too small, she's a Mexican. It was stupid, she knew, but the dismissal hurt. It made her angry. Suddenly James was there with his arm around her shoulders, hugging her close. "Hey beautiful," he said, "let's get back to our sanctuary." She didn't make the connection until later. She didn't realize at the time that James had seen Howdy's flickering reptilian tongue of assessment, the flash of her pain, and had moved to counteract the other man's unthinking judgment. Glancing towards Daniel she saw him watching them. James retrieved his plate and they began working their way through the crowd toward the relatively quiet corner.

Howdy exchanged a few words with Michael D, before Michael D entered the studio to take over the ongoing broadcast, and then made a beeline for Trevor and Daniel.

"Hey! It's great to see you guys again," Howdy said, apparently oblivious to Trevor and Daniel's conspicuous lack of enthusiasm as they took his proffered hand. "Seven weeks at number one. That's pretty good. And two CMA nominations. You guys must be rolling in the money."

"It's time for our interview with Michael D," Trevor said, moving toward the studio door.

"I was hoping to interview you guys again but it just didn't work out," Howdy called after them.

Although the broadcast was piped into the front room it was clear that the party was over. By the time the interview ended most of the people had gone. Melissa took the opportunity to find a restroom. When she returned she saw Daniel and James together facing the punch bowl.

"What was that all about?" She heard Daniel ask as she approached.

James seemed to know at once what he was referring to. "Howdy "the Snake" Hayes gave Melissa a look as if he felt she was lower than dirt. I thought she needed a little boost." He dipped into the bowl, filled a plastic cup, and handed it to Daniel.

"Ahh," Daniel said as both men became aware of Melissa's presence.

"So, what's the plan?" Trevor said as he and Rebecca joined them. Howdy trudged a couple of paces behind.

"There's no plan," Daniel replied. "It's whatever we decide."

"Maybe we could go to a movie or something," Rebecca suggested.

Trevor cocked an eyebrow at her. "I've had about enough of large groups of people for one day," he announced, shaking his autographing hand with a humorous grimace. "Let's do something a bit more private."

"Well, we could rent some videos and watch them at my place," Daniel offered.

"And order some pizza," James elaborated.

"Sounds good. I'll buy the beer," Trevor said, nodding.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan, Dan," Howdy interrupted. Trevor looked at Daniel. Daniel looked back. Daniel turned his gaze on the interloper.

"I'm sorry Howdy but I don't feel you treat my friends with enough respect."

Howdy's face wore a stunned expression. "I haven't... I'm not..." he said, his voice sounding like that of a small boy who's just had all his toys taken away from him. His eyes fell on Trevor, Rebecca, and James in turn as if he expected them to leap to his defense. It didn't happen.

"I'm sorry Howdy, but that's the way I feel," Daniel repeated, taking Melissa's hand. It was the first time he'd done so. She was surprised by how good it felt. He drew her toward the door and the three others followed. Howdy stood alone wearing a dazed expression.

On the way back they stopped at a video rental store. Melissa and Rebecca had fun rolling their eyes at each other in response to some of the selections the guys suggested. The three men muttered among themselves about how weird some of these "chick flicks" could be.

"But some of them aren't too bad," Trevor opined. Daniel and James stared at him with exaggerated consternation. They all laughed.

"Cathy had me watch a couple that I liked," Daniel said, his voice catching on the last word. There was a sudden pained silence. And then it passed.

They agreed that they'd pick out two of each. The two groups separated to make their choices.

"You want to be more than 'friends', don't you?" Rebecca asked softly, as they scanned the racks of videos and DVDs.

Melissa, startled, took a moment to reply. "Sometimes I do and sometimes I'm not sure," she said truthfully, "I like him a lot. But I'm not sure how well I'd fit in his world."

"Yes, you seemed uncomfortable at the radio station," Rebecca said. "But I think you fit fine, as far as I can tell. Those kinds of events always push everyone but the main attractions to the side. I've just gotten more used to it. And being the significant other of a songwriter is a lot different than being with a performing artist."

"Yeah, I saw the way Judy was drooling over your guy." Both women giggled.

"I trust Trevor implicitly," Rebecca said growing serious. "But it hasn't been an easy road, believe me."

"You know, when Daniel invited me to this it scared me. But now I'm really glad he did. I like you."

"I like you too." The two women smiled at each other and turned back to the multitude of entertainment choices.

Once they got back to the parking lot where they'd left their vehicles Daniel gave Trevor and Melissa directions to his house. They all agreed to meet there in half an hour.

Daniel's house, set on the southern edge of the city, was a sprawling single-story structure made out of red brick. About half a dozen ancient trees, having shaken off their leafy clothing, stood bare in the cold wind at random points in the large lot. James opened the door shortly after Melissa rang the doorbell.

"Come in. Come in. The maestro is rounding up munchies," he said. "Trevor and Rebecca are still on the loose."

She entered, looking around curiously. She could almost feel Cathy's presence. The warm and cheerful decor had obviously been wrought by a woman's hand. She saw that there were several framed photographs of Cathy sitting on the big TV. Since James had disappeared, apparently believing that his duties as host had ended upon shutting the door, she went over to investigate. It was more than a little unnerving for her to realize that Cathy had been very slim , very blond, and very white. She was excruciatingly conscious of how different her own body was. She wondered if she had any real chance with Daniel at all. At that moment the doorbell rang. Since James was nowhere in sight she went to do the honors.




All She Ever Wanted Ch. 04



"It's the beer man," Trevor bellowed, lugging in a case of honey ale.

"I also got some soda," Rebecca added on a much quieter note, her hands full of plastic grocery bags. "Plus chips and things."

"Hey, good choice," James said from a doorway down the hall, eyeing the box in Trevor's hands. "That stuff is almost as good as mine." Trevor marched off in his direction. Melissa and Rebecca followed after.

Walking into the expansive kitchen they found Daniel tending to popping popcorn in the microwave. Seeing the bags in Rebecca's hands he pulled several sizable ceramic bowls off the shelves in front of him and put them on the kitchen table. "I think we'll have enough to munch on," he said. "And enough beer."

"In Texas this is just enough to wet one man's whistle," Trevor drawled as he and Rebecca deposited their purchases on the table.

"Trevor, I don't think we're in Texas anymore," Rebecca said in a little girl voice. Everyone laughed.

Melissa and Rebecca began dumping bags of chips and pretzels into the ceramic bowls while James and Trevor put the honey ale into the refrigerator, once they'd made sure that everyone had a bottle. As soon as Daniel finished with the popcorn they each took one of the big bowls plus a small bowl for an individual serving and carried them into the living room. They settled in. Trevor and Rebecca claimed the love seat, while Melissa and James each took an end of the full-size couch. Daniel, having put it to a vote, loaded the first DVD which, due to one of the drawbacks of democracy, was one of the guy's selections. He then sat back in the recliner.

Once the movie started Rebecca allowed as how she could think of worse things to do than watch Mel Gibson move and Melissa concurred. An exchange of lighthearted banter continued throughout the film. The mood shifted when the movie Melissa and Rebecca had selected, an intense drama, began. By the end everyone had been deeply affected.

"Whoa, I think it's time for a pizza break," James said as the final credits rolled up the screen. "That was heavy." He asked for everyone's choice of toppings and went into the kitchen to phone in the order.

They chatted about the movie for several minutes and then Rebecca got up to use the bathroom.

"Have you written any new songs lately?" Trevor asked Daniel.

"A couple. Nothing very substantial."

"Any chance I could hear them?"

"Sure, come on," Daniel said, retracting the recliner and standing up. He walked down the hall and into a small room filled with musical instruments and recording equipment with Trevor and Melissa right behind him. "I've got a rough demo of one of them," he said as he flipped a couple of switches and pressed some buttons. A moment later the sound of his guitar backed with a drum machine and electric bass poured through the speakers and then came his voice.

Melissa liked the song. It seemed strange to her, though, given his general depression, that it was very upbeat. Rebecca appeared in the doorway.

"Cute," Trevor said. "It's a fun song. Not much to it but it's fun."

Melissa looked at Daniel expecting him to look hurt but he only nodded in agreement.

"I haven't recorded the other one yet," Daniel said as he turned off his equipment. He pulled his acoustic guitar out of its case and gestured toward the door. "Why don't we go back out to the living room. It'll be more comfortable."

James joined them as they made a semicircle around where Daniel sat on the couch. This song was dark, intensely personal, and left them all silent at the end. The glimpse into Daniel's deep pain was disturbing. Daniel, sensing their shock, broke into a spirited rendition of 'Camptown Races' until the mood had lifted. As he was turning to lean the guitar against the back of the couch, after sliding the pick between the strings, Trevor reached out his hand.

"Mind if I borrow that," he said. "I like the song, yours not Stephen Foster's, though I like his song too. But I doubt if I could sell many records of such gloom and doom."

"Yeah, I know, I wasn't trying to pitch it," Daniel said as he handed Trevor the guitar.

Melissa was surprised when Trevor launched into a soulful version of 'Amazing Grace'. Rebecca and Daniel joined in with harmony, smiling at each other. It was a warm sweet moment. Next Trevor played 'Other Plans'. Melissa felt tears flowing. Hearing him sing it with only a guitar accompaniment filled her with a sense of poignant intimacy.

"Well, buddy," Trevor said when he'd finished, "I assume you're going to the Country Music Association awards since 'Other Plans' has been nominated for Song of the Year."

"I guess," Daniel replied with an obvious lack of enthusiasm. "I'm not sure there's much point, the competition's pretty fierce."

"Oh, I don't know," Trevor responded, "it's a great song and a couple of the songs nominated probably won't make it for political reasons so I'd say you've got a good shot at it."

"Yeah, well, you could be right. It just doesn't feel real somehow. I wish Cathy were here to share this with me." His voice broke. There was another moment of strained silence which Trevor interrupted by starting into one of the other songs of Daniels' he'd recorded.

Trevor was in the middle of playing 'You Can Take Me Home To Mama', the song that had launched his career as a recording artist, when the pizza delivery person arrived. James opened the door to let in a young full-figured woman holding two pizza warming bags. Her eyes grew big as she entered the room. Trevor stopped singing.

"Oh my God, you're Trevor Trent. Oh my God!" She exclaimed. James grabbed the pizzas, apparently afraid she was going to drop them. "I love your music. Can I have your autograph?"

"No place is safe," Rebecca said wryly. "They'll find you anywhere."

"And this is the man who wrote 'Other Plans'", Trevor announced, waving his strumming hand in Daniel's direction with the pick clasped between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh my God! I love that song," the woman said. "I can't believe this. You really wrote that?" She asked, turning her large grey eyes at Daniel. He nodded with a bemused smile. "I want your autograph too."

"What's your name?" Trevor asked.

"Mindy. Mindy Coleman." She seemed to shrink a little.

"What do we owe you Mindy?" Trevor said kindly, placing the guitar carefully on the floor and pulling out his wallet.

"Twenty five dollars and fifty four cents."

"Here's thirty two. Plus a couple of autographs."

Ten minutes later Mindy left clutching her empty pizza warming bags and expressing her delighted thanks. James had spread the pizzas out on the kitchen table. Daniel set out plates and everyone dug in. Returning to the living room they decided to watch the second movie that Melissa and Rebecca had picked out, a comedy this time.

The time passed quickly. Melissa was more than a little surprised by the level of comfort she felt with these four people, especially the three men. It was fun to relax and enjoy the movie in the company of such lively down-to-earth people.

"Well, we'd better be getting back to the motel," Trevor said as the fourth video ended. "We've got to head for Des Moines pretty early tomorrow. It's been a great day. Thanks Daniel."

Everyone got up, sought out their coats or jackets, and began putting them on while expressing their appreciation for Daniel's hospitality. Daniel followed them to the door and stood there as they got into their cars. He waved as they drove away. 



All She Ever Wanted Ch. 05



Howdy Hayes couldn't think of the word that described how he felt. But he knew it wasn't good. His insides were tied into knots, making him feel scrunched and small. He didn't like it one little bit.

It was about twenty minutes after four in the morning and he was sitting in Rita's All-Night Diner having his usual early breakfast before heading over to the radio station to relieve Gina, the night DJ, at five. He hadn't slept well the night before. Over and over he relived the painful end of Trevor's reception yesterday. They'd left him standing there, feeling like a fool.

And this was on top of the other worries he had to contend with. He knew the signs. Here he was stuck at a podunk independent station that was scrambling to stay on the air in a third class market. The big boys with their canned programming couldn't be far away. He could almost sense their cold breath on his neck.

It had taken him almost a year to find this job. A year that had nearly bled him dry. A year that had reduced his pride to tatters. He was fifty-one years old and he didn't know how many more times he'd have the chutzpah to start all over again. It got harder every time.

"More coffee?" Denise, the waitress assigned to his table, stood nearby with a coffee pot in her hand.

"Sure," he said. As she moved closer he reached out to put his hand on her behind. She grabbed his wrist and held his hand away from her body, while pouring his coffee. It was a game they played. He didn't know how she felt about the game and he didn't really care. He watched as she turned her back on him and walked away. For a moment the smooth motion of her hips made him forget his troubles. Sex was good for that. There was a certain kind of woman who was turned on by the fact that he was a voice in their radio. But Denise wasn't one of them.

He took a sip of his coffee. And then poked at his eggs with his fork. It was easy for some guys. Success just seemed to jump into their laps. Guys like Daniel Burnham and Trevor Trent. He'd had a taste of that ambrosia. Playing bass with The Winston Valley Boys when their single 'Sweet Evangeline' had cracked the top twenty. Those were heady days. Lots of booze, lots of women. But they'd fired him. Said he'd missed one too many gigs but he knew it was really because they'd wanted to give the spot to one of their buddies. He shoved his plate away, his face twisted with anger. For the next two years The Winston Valley Boys had had a string of top ten hits and they were still touring. While he'd drifted from one mediocre band to another. Damn! The thought of just how close he'd come still tore up his guts.

As he stood he snatched the check off the table, grabbed his jacket, and stalked to the cash register. He noted with a bitter smirk that Denise made a point of letting one of the other girls take his money. 'That's all right darlin',' he thought. 'No tips for you because you didn't earn one.' He stepped out into the cold darkness.

It was in Florida that he'd got into radio. That's where he'd become Howdy Hayes. Somehow changing his name changed his luck. For awhile. For a good long while, he had to admit. He used to do this Minnie Pearl thing when he came on and people ate it up. That was in the early 80's when Country music was all the rage following the release of the movie Urban Cowboy. Quasi Country, anyway.

He sat in his icy car for a minute after turning the key, waiting for some warmth. Piece of crap car. He'd had a Cadillac convertible in Florida. A sweet piece of machinery. The girls had loved that car and he'd loved the girls. But those days were gone.

For some reason he couldn't fathom, for the life of him, he thought of his mama. Jesus! That was a long time ago. He'd grown up in Missouri. The buckle of the bible belt, his older brother used to say. Lord how his mama used to go on and on about the healing power of God's love. She'd made him go to church until he was seventeen and in all that time he sure as hell hadn't seen any evidence of such a thing. To the contrary. To the contrary! As far as he could see people were just out for as much as they could get. And it didn't have much to do with God's love.

As much as they could get... Who did they think they were anyway? Guys like Daniel 'the pansy' Burnham. They weren't anything special. He'd seen so many of guys like him up close and personal and they were just like anyone else. Frigging frauds. It all came down to who you knew in this business. Like Trevor 'white trash' Trent. Everybody knew it was payola and the big boys with their canned programming that made hits. Trevor was just the pretty face on the package.

God he hated them. Humiliation. That was the word he'd been searching for. He'd felt humiliated. And sometime, somehow, he was going to make Daniel Burnham pay for making him feel like some kid who didn't get invited to the party. Oh yeah. Cut old four eyes down to size. 

He put the car in gear and drove the few blocks to the radio station. When he unlocked the door and walked in he could see Gina in the studio. She had to have seen him enter but she didn't make any sign of welcome. Hoity toity bitch. He was nearly fifteen minutes early so he got a cup of coffee from the pot in the break room and sat at Judy's desk. He thought of watching Judy sit in this very chair. A couple of minutes before five Gina switched the sound of the broadcast into the house speakers and came out of the studio. An old George Strait song, "Marina Del Rey", was playing.

"Morning Howdy."

"Yeah." He looked at her. She wasn't his type at all. Way too big. And too old. He watched as she quickly got into her coat. It amused him to see that she bunched her keys in her hand like they were some kind of weapon before stepping outside. Fat chance that was going to stop anybody. Hell, her face would stop them first. And then she was gone. Good riddance.

He pushed into the studio and slid into the chair in front of the microphone. It was still warm from Gina's big butt. She was good for one thing anyway. He punched up the mic as the song ended. Howdy Hayes was on the air.

FROM HER DESK Judy Jenks could see Howdy Hayes in the studio although she looked in that direction as little as possible. He gave her the creeps. The problem was that he could see her too and sometimes she could almost feel his eyes on her, like insects crawling over her body.

Howdy, she'd observed, liked women half his age who looked a certain way. Unfortunately she fit the pattern. She really liked her breasts, for the most part, but whenever she was around Howdy she made a point of hiding them as much as she could. He had a way of looking at her front when he talked to her as if he owned them and had a perfect right.

"Hello gorgeous," someone said, breaking up her thoughts.

"Hi Michael," she said, turning to smile at him as he closed the front door. "Wow, it's that time already?" She added, glancing at the clock. Almost time for Howdy's shift to end.

Michael D was another kind of man entirely. He was light and flirtatious and very married. But, even though he really wasn't her type, he made her feel good. Unlike Howdy who rubbed against her ego like a piece of coarse sandpaper.

"Well, you know how it flies," Michael said. "Though I don't imagine you've been having too much fun." He gave Howdy a broad smile and cheerful wave, that she could see was quite false, through the thick glass. Not that Howdy would notice. 

Michael's wife Heather also fit the pattern so Judy figured she'd given Michael the low-down on his colleague's treatment of women. A Brad Paisley song came through the house speakers. 

"I guess it's showtime." Michael said.

Judy pulled her loose vest across her front, hunching down slightly, as Howdy and Michael changed places.

"Hey beautiful," Howdy said, his voice smooth.

"Hi."

"What did you think of the big to-do yesterday?" He asked. "Having those two famous guys right here in this room?"

"I liked it," she said. "My friends are jealous because I got to shake hands with Trevor Trent."

"Well, don't let to go to your head, darlin'," he said. "Neither of them is anything special. Even if they are raking in the dough."

"I feel sorry for Daniel. It's so sad about his wife." 

"I have to tell you I'm a little sick of the sensitive artist routine by now," Howdy said. "It seems to me that he's just milking it for all he can get at this point. But did you see the dumpy chiquita he's hanging out with now?"

Judy, who'd focused primarily on Trevor, had to put some effort into a hazy recollection of Melissa. "Yeah, I saw her." The realization that Daniel might be making a lot of money took a little longer to sink in. "You mean, Daniel's rich now?"

"Hell yeah," Howdy said, picking up on Judy's naivete. "He's got a number one song. And long after Trevor Trent's just another has-been Daniel's going to be raking in the bucks. Right now Trevor's busting his butt trying to pay off the advance on his recording contract."   The phone rang and while Judy was answering it Howdy plucked his coat off the rack and, with an abrupt wave, headed out the door. But, after hanging up, Judy stared at the wall in front of her and put a good deal of thought into what Howdy had said about Daniel. A man who was single, and rich, after all.