Page 70 of A Country Kind Of Love
Peyton sits beside him on the bed. She explains everything from her feelings about Cleo, to her feelings about singing. The misunderstanding between record labels, and Cleo’s stance on her betrayal.
“She won’t return your calls? That’s tough.”
“Itsucks, Dad.”
She leans left to rest her head awkwardly on his shoulder. It’s more like her ear because the hat is anobstruction.
“You know this would’ve been your mom’s remit; the advice giving. She always knew what to say and when to say it.” He clears his throat. “I think the Cleo stuff will work itself out if she’s meant to be in your life, but you shouldn’t give up on your dreams, Peyton.”
“It’s not as easy asthat, Dad.”
“Why not?”
“Because...”
“Because you’re scared?”
She sits up and glares at him. He’s always right, andhe knows it.
“Yes, okay, I’m scared. I’m scared to fail. I’m scared to sing. I’m scared to write songs people don’t connect with. I’m scared I might get up on a stage and choke, but most importantly I’m scared that I’ll forget Mom. She already seems so distant to me now... I can’t remember what she smells like.” Peyton’s voice cracks. The tears stream, and her dad removes her hat and holds her tightly against his chest.
“It’s okay sweetheart.Let it out.”
“I miss her, Dad,” she sobs.
“I miss her too.”
He wipes at the corner of her eye with his sleeve. “I have something for you.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He pulls up a video. “Don’t ask me how your brother did this. Do you remember your mom always used to make the home videos? Well, I turned the camera around on her one day.”
He presses play. The video is old, and the quality is distorted, but the sound is clear. She can hear her dad from behind the camera, “Here is our baby girl, Peyton. She’s three months old. Isn’t she just the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.” The camera zooms in on Peyton’s small angelic face; she’s fast asleep wrapped up in a knitted pink blanket.
“What do you want to say to our girl? If she’s going to watch this in 15-20 years’ time? What do you hope for?What worldly advice does Mrs. Harris want to give?”
“Can’t you just call me Mel? You make me sound so old when you say Mrs. Harris.” Peyton’s mum scowls at the person behindthe camera.
It makes Peyton chuckle. “She really hated Mrs. Harrisdidn’t she.”
“Yes, she said it made her sound like a schoolteacher.” Herdad smirks.
Peyton has never seen the video. Her mom looks so young, so fresh. Her voice is chirpy, and her eyes are wide and full of life. They look so similar; she knew they did from other videos and photos, but in this one it’s extremely apparent: everything from her curly blonde hair, to the way her nose curves at the end, and the shape of her lips. It is like lookingin a mirror.
“I hope first and foremost she’s healthy and happy. I hope that the world hasn’t found a way to dampen her glow. I hope she’s confident, and I hope she feels supported, and encouraged enough to chase her dreams. I hope she’s independent, caring, and successful in whatever she chooses to do. If that happens to be music, fantastic, if not I will support her until she does choose music.” Her mom winks atthe camera.
Peyton laughs through the tears. Shehad banter.
“Do you hear that baby girl? You have to follow in your momma’s footsteps otherwise we’ll both never hear the end of it.”The camera goes closer. Andrew holds it to one side as he kisses his wife on the lips; then he kisses Peyton. The camera catches it all.“I love you,”he whispers. The video ends abruptly.
Andrew sniffs. When Peyton looks up, he’scrying too.
“I will never not love your mother. She will always be in my heart, or yours, or your brothers. I believe wholeheartedly that she’s watching down on us all, and she’s praying that the things she wished and hoped for her children are coming true. She wanted you to choose music. The first thing you intentionally held in your hands was a plastic guitar. The moment you could walk she had a little karaoke machine set up with a pink microphone, and you carried iteverywhere.”
“I remember.” Peyton smiles.
“You’re an amazing songwriter, sweety. Clearly, the people at the record label think that too, and you’re an incredible singer. You have the same sweet tone your mom used to have. Don’t give up because of a minor setback. You deserve the chance to chase your dreams.”
“I’ve already lost Cleo; I don’t want to lose Mom too.”
“Your mom’s gone sweetheart. Nothing you or I can do will ever bring her back. The only way you can keep her alive is in here.” He places a hand over his chest. “Live your life. Take every opportunity that comes your way. Makeher proud.”
