Page 141 of Shattered Melodies

“Don’t tell Caleb, okay? I want to surprise him.”

Jimmy laughed outright at that. “Playing the romantic, are we? Alright, your secret’s safe with me. But you owe me one, Denison.”

I grinned. “Add it to my tab. And Jimmy? Thanks. For everything.”

As I hung up, I felt a lightness in my chest that I hadn’t experienced in years. I was going home. To Caleb, to my music, to the life I’d always wanted but never had the courage to pursue.

I looked around at the bustling New York street one last time. This chapter of my life was closing, but a new one was about to begin. And for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t wait to see what the future held.

CHAPTER 38

A Pleasant Surprise

CALEB

The wood was rough under my fingers, a few splinters catching on my calloused skin. Couldn’t have that - last thing we needed was some city slicker getting a splinter and raising a fuss.

“Gonna need to sand this down,” I muttered to myself, making a mental note.

Peanut meowed from her perch on a nearby hay bale, as if offering her agreement. I chuckled, shaking my head at the little furball. “Thanks for the input, cat.”

I moved on to the microphone stands, giving each one a thorough once-over. The metal was cool to the touch, a bit of rust forming at the base of one. Nothing a little simple cleaning couldn’t fix, but it was another item for the to-do list.

The speakers were next. I ran my fingers along the wires, checking for any frays or weak spots. Can’t have the sound cutting out mid-performance. That’d be a disaster. As I worked, I hummed under my breath, the melody of that unfinished song playing on repeat in my head.

“Alright, let’s test this baby out,” I said to no one in particular, plugging in my guitar. The amp hummed to life, a soft buzz filling the air. I strummed a chord, the sound reverberating through the empty barn. Not bad, but could use a little tweaking.

I fiddled with the settings, playing a few more chords until the sound was just right. Crisp, but not too sharp. Full, but not overwhelming. Perfect.

With the equipment checked, I turned my attention to the decorations. Sarah and Mom had gone all out, stringing up fairy lights and hanging hand-painted signs. I adjusted a banner that had come loose at one corner, making sure it was secure.

“What do you think, Peanut?” I asked, stepping back to survey my work. “We ready for this shindig?”

Peanut yawned widely, showing off her tiny teeth before curling up into a tighter ball. I snorted. “Yeah, that’s about how I feel too, girl.”

I grabbed my guitar and settled onto a nearby stool, my fingers finding their place on the strings without much thought. The opening chords of that old song - the one Liam and I first played together - filled the barn.

Damn, had it really been twenty years? Felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

As I played, memories washed over me. Liam’s smile, the way his eyes lit up when he sang, the feeling of his hand in mine. But mixed with the sweet memories were the bitter ones - the fight, the accident, the years of silence.

I hit a sour note, the dissonant sound jarring me back to the present. “Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head to clear it.

Focus, Winchester. You’ve got a job to do.

I took a deep breath, centering myself, and started again. This time, I let my mind wander to the new song - the one I was writing for Liam. The one I’d started back in high school and never finished.

The verses came easily enough, flowing out of me like they’d been waiting all this time. But when I hit the bridge, I faltered.

“Come on,” I growled, frustration building. “Why can’t you just cooperate, huh?”

Peanut meowed, her green eyes fixed on me. I sighed, setting the guitar aside for a moment.

“I know, I know. I’m overthinking it.” I ran a hand through my hair, probably making it stand up in all directions. “It’s just… it’s gotta be perfect, you know?”

I trailed off, the weight of tomorrow’s fundraiser and Liam’s absence settling heavy on my shoulders. What if I couldn’t finish the song in time? What if the fundraiser was a bust? What if Liam decided New York was where he belonged after all?

I picked up the guitar again, determined to get this bridge right. As I played, I tried to lose myself in the music, to forget about all the worries gnawing at my gut.

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