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Authors: Syrie James

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Songbird (25 page)

BOOK: Songbird
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I should have thought of it myself.” She stripped off her wet underclothes, hung them up to dry, and ran the towel over her body. “I knew that it rains a lot in Seattle. I guess I was hoping for blue skies in summer.”


We do get blue skies—you had a glimpse of them yesterday—and they’re stunning. It’s the rain that makes everything so crisp, clean, and green. Don’t you get tired of all that sunshine back home?”


Never.”


It’s always the same in southern California. No change of seasons. No—”


I like it that way. It’s beautiful. Warm. And predictable.”

He followed her into the bedroom, watching as she put on a clean, dry bra and underwear and a pair of jeans.

His eyes glimmered. “Are you sure you want to get dressed?”


Yes. I’m cold.” She drew her long-sleeved, cotton top over her head.


I can think of another way we can get warm.”

He stepped toward her, but she raised a hand to stop him. “Not now, Kyle.” At his look of disappointment, she added, “I’m sorry, but I’m not in the mood. I just had the worst interview of my life.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed with a frown. “I know, and
I’m
sorry. You have every right to be upset. But it’s only one station. There are others. I can call—”


No. I’m not going through that kind of embarrassment again.” She crossed to the window, where beating rain blurred the glass in thick rivulets, obscuring the distant pines. “Ed Alder made it clear that the only reason he bothered to listen to my tape or meet with me was because of his relationship with you. I want a job on my own merit, not as payment for your faithful advertising.”

He winced at that, but said: “I don’t blame you. I was just trying to help.”


I know. And I appreciate all the effort you went to on my behalf—I really do. But I won’t work for someone who doesn’t respect my talent. And I refuse to take another night shift.”

He nodded slowly. “Try another station, then. This time, I’ll stay out of it. But Desiree—even if the only thing available is a night shift, it won’t last forever. In time, they’ll see what they’ve got, and—”


No. I might be stuck doing nights again for years. You can’t imagine what havoc that kind of schedule plays with your life. I won’t take a step backward. I paid my dues. I won’t do it again.”


So where does that leave us?”

She dropped down beside him on the bed. “Kyle, I love you. But—”


But what?”


I want to stay in California.”

He blew out a deep, disappointed sigh. “For how long?”


I don’t know.” She lay sideways on the bed and absently traced the line of stitching in the blue quilted comforter with her index finger. “When you first suggested I look for a job in Seattle, I agreed to give it a try. I almost had myself convinced it would work. But I was wrong. And it’s not just the rain, or the rude things Alder said about my voice. It’s everything that Southern California has to offer— commercials, TV, film. It’s all there. I have a following, a reputation in that market. I can’t leave just because the station
might
be sold. I’d be crazy to give up what I’ve worked so hard for.”

He dropped down beside her, his jaw tense, his eyes riveted to hers. “You’d be crazy to give up what we have.”


I agree,” she returned softly. “I’m not talking about giving up our relationship.”


You’re not?”

She smiled lovingly into his eyes, touched his cheek with her hand. “I want to marry you, Kyle. But I want to stay at KICK.”

His forehead furrowed. “How do you propose we do that? Live in separate cities?”


Yes.”

He cursed and looked away.


There’s no guarantee we can ever live in the same place for long, so there’s no reason why we have to start out that way.”

He stood up and raked his hand through his hair. “What makes you so certain you’d have to move on, even if you did lose a job? Who says you couldn’t find work at another station in the same area?”


Because a deejay cast adrift is practically untouchable in the same market. Don’t ask me why. It’s the way the business works.”

He cursed again, then strode across the room and braced his arms on the dresser top, his back to her. “So even if we get married, we can only look forward to seeing each other on weekends and vacations. Twice a month here, twice a month in Southern California—at best. Or maybe we can buy a house in the San Francisco Bay Area and meet half way.”


That could work.”

He whipped around to look at her. “Is that what you want?”


You’re
the one who suggested we meet on weekends. You’re the one who said a long-distance relationship could work. I’m just trying to make the best of it.”

He shook his head bitterly. “That was before I tried it. I can see now why your marriage fell apart.”

She stared at him. “What are you saying?”


I’m saying…you were right. I don’t think it can work. At least not for me. I’ve spent the past few weeks here in body, but not in spirit. And now my business is suffering.”

She swallowed hard, knowing he was referring to the blown contract. Tears threatened and she fought hard to keep them at bay.


I love you, Desiree. But I don’t want to be torn, day after day, between you and my work. I want to be together, live in the same house, share the same bed. I want to spend mornings and evenings with you, make love to you every night, and wake up beside you every morning. I want to make a home together, raise children together. I want a full-time partner…for life.”

She nodded, the sound of the rain beating against the windowpane matching the dull thudding of her heart. “I want those things, too,” she said quietly. “And I wish more than anything that we could make it happen. But I don’t see how it’s possible for us.”

Fourteen

Desiree shivered beneath her old sweatshirt as she trudged barefoot across the damp sand, avoiding scattered masses of dark, stringy seaweed. An early morning fog hung low over the Santa Barbara coastline, casting a dull, white glow across the bay. She’d walked this beach every morning for eight days now, trying to make some sense out of her life and her reason for being. Sam, her boss, had insisted she take the time off.


You’ve been walking around here all week like a ghost,” he’d growled. “Something’s eating you up inside. One of these days you’re gonna break. And I like you too much to sit around and wait for that to happen.”


I’m fine,” Desiree had insisted. “Really, I—”


The hell you are. Look, I’m giving you next week off.” He’d waved away her protest with an impatient hand. “Go away somewhere. Relax. Don’t tell me where you’re going. And don’t come back until you’ve solved your problem, whatever it is. Got it?”

Santa Barbara, the quiet, stately community just up the coast, seemed the ideal place to meditate in solitude. But now, on the Monday morning she was due back at work, she had yet to make peace with herself. She’d checked out of the hotel and knew she ought to get in her car and drive home. But she didn’t feel ready. Her heart still ached and tears came to her eyes every time she recalled the Sunday afternoon two weeks ago when she left Seattle.

Kyle had begged her to spend the night, to wait and take her scheduled flight the next morning. But there had seemed no point in staying. Every extra moment she spent with him would only make the ultimate parting even harder to bear.


I’m sorry,” she’d said, throwing clothes into the open suitcase on Kyle’s bed.


Sorry? What good is it to be sorry? Stop packing, please.” Kyle had laid a restraining hand on her arm, but she’d shrugged it off. “Don’t walk out on me like this. Not now. It’s pouring outside.”


It’s better if I go now.” She’d snapped her suitcase shut with a bitter thud. “We’ve said all we have to say. I’ll call a cab.”


Don’t be ridiculous.” He’d grabbed the suitcase from her hand. “If you’re so set on leaving, I’ll drive you to the airport.”


Thank you.”

They’d sat in tense silence as Kyle steered the Maserati over the wet streets, rain pelting the windshield. When they finally reached the airport, he’d carried her bag to the counter, waited while she changed her reservation, then walked her to the gate. The flight was just about to board. Desiree had fumbled miserably with the shoulder strap on her purse as she purposely avoided his gaze.


Kyle, I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” she’d said brokenly. “I’ve felt like a different person since we met. You’ve given me more confidence than I’ve ever had before. I’ll always be grateful to you for that.”

His low, muttered curse had forced her to raise her eyes to his. The pain contorting his face hurt her like a physical blow. She’d bit her lip against an onrush of tears.


I’m so sorry,” she finished, her voice barely a whisper.

He briefly grabbed her hand and squeezed it tightly. “So am I.” Without another word, he spun on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.

The day after she returned home, a small box had arrived with a card from Kyle. “Desiree: I’ll always love you,” the card read. “Like the contents of this white box, we’re a perfect matched pair. We belong together. There’s got to be a way we can work things out. Please. Come back to me.”

A wistful ache wrenched at her heart as she stared at the box. It was pink, not white. Inside, on a bed of pale pink velvet, rested a set of custom-crafted pierced earrings: two delicate golden songbirds, similar to the pendant she wore, with a sparkling diamond chip in each eye.

She’d burst into tears.

The earrings were still in the box, buried under the scarves in her bottom dresser drawer. Would she ever be able to bring herself to wear them?

The squawk of a seagull yanked her back to the present. Desiree blinked back fresh tears, curling her toes into the damp sand as she walked. She remembered another sea gull’s cry on an idyllic afternoon with Kyle at Catalina. Years, not weeks, seemed to have passed since that wonderful day. The pain of loneliness and loss spread throughout her body until her insides felt like one immense, gaping chasm.

Try to remember what life was like before you met him, she told herself, as she trudged up the sand and across the parking lot to her car. Did you feel happy? Energetic? Did you look forward to each new day?
Yes!
You were lonely, but you’d learned to accept it.
And you’ll learn to accept it again.

She opened the car door, cleaned off her feet, and got in. Turning the key to auxiliary power, she flipped on the car radio.


Hope you’re having a great morning out there, Santa Barbara,” said a cheerful masculine radio voice. “I sure am. On the way in this morning—”

She tuned out the voice, crossing her arms on the steering wheel as she wearily lowered her head. Radio. That’s where the excitement was. The drama, the thrill, the power she wielded within the confines of her small control room. She’d always loved it. It had been her whole life. Why, then, didn’t she care anymore? Where had the magic gone?


And now for some Streisand,” said the radio voice. A pause. And then sweet, familiar notes rent the air. Desiree’s head flew up and she stared at the radio as if it possessed satanic powers. “Songbird.” Of all the songs to play...

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. She knew every note, every word. The lyrics wove through her mind and body, reaching down to her soul. The songbird’s sweet music brings others joy, the words said. Her song sets people free. Yet no one knows the songbird. She’s sad and alone...and lonely. Who will sing for her?

Desiree’s chest constricted with an ache of longing and emptiness.
I’m nothing more than a voice coming out of a box,
she realized with sudden, agonizing clarity.
I make others happy. But no one sings for me.

You fool, a voice cried within her.
He
loves you. He’s the music in your soul, the one who can set you free. Everything will work out if only you’re together. Nothing else matters.
Nothing.

She gripped the steering wheel with fierce determination. How could she have been so blind? How could she have imagined she could live without him? She loved him. She needed him. Her work meant nothing if she couldn’t have him.

Desiree turned on the ignition and stamped on the gas pedal. The engine roared to life. She sped out of the parking lot, down the street, and pulled to a screeching halt in front of the first phone booth she could find.

I only hope I’m not too late, she thought desperately as she jumped out of the car and raced to the phone booth. She dipped into her purse, grabbed her address book, and searched for Kyle’s office number with trembling fingers.

I’ll find a job in Seattle, take whatever I can get, she decided. Who cares what shift it is? Who cares what I’m leaving behind? At least we’ll be together.

She drummed her fingernails against the booth’s glass door as she waited for the operator to put through the credit card call. She’d do her best, she reasoned, make a name for herself, and in no time she’d be on top again. If she lost her job some day and couldn’t find another one...to hell with it! She’d do something else.

BOOK: Songbird
7.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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