Chapter Twenty-Five
Ellie
I had a love-hate relationship with the park growing up. I loved it, but it came at a price—the park or music?—which I hated. But what kid didn’t want to go there? It was a place where you could be anyone you wanted to be. Where you could run free and use your loudest outside voice. Play with kids you would probably never play with again. It didn’t matter which side of the tracks you lived on. The park was just the park. No labels, no expectations. Free to be you. A kid.
I didn’t catch on until I was much older and the park became less popular that it had been offered up as a distraction, anything to detour me away from my passion.
My parents would fight about my lessons. I wanted to play the drums, but instead ended up with piano lessons. Then when I showed interest in the guitar, they suggested the violin. At the time I thought I was winning, but it was actually my mom compromising with my father.
The park? It was another one of those compromises. When I showed interest in beauty pageants, my father agreed until he learned there was a talent competition. I was pulled, but where did we go? The park.
A field trip to a local theater where a popular musical was featured? We skipped it. My parents decided to surprise me with a fun-filled day at the park.
The park. As much as I love it, I resent it. Yet today, it feels good to be back. Being here wasn’t a compromise or an obligation. It was a suggestion from the man I know would never make me choose.
Now here we are, bag across his chest, cooler in one hand and mine in the other, searching for a picnic spot.
“How about that tree?” He points at the one away from the playground, closer to the trails.
“It’s perfect.”
It really is. That old oak tree has been here since before I was born and it’s one I know all too well. It’s the exact same one my mother and I would set up a picnic under while we waited for my father to finish his run.
This tree was ours; we would lean against its thick trunk and sing about the day, making up songs about whatever was happening around us, a rare moment where it was just me and her enjoying what we both love to do.
Looking at the same spot as Lee spreads our blanket out I realize this was probably just as much my mom’s secret as mine. I always thought my father had something against me and my music, but it was her, too.
I only heard my mother singing when she was in the shower or in the car. Sometimes at night when my father was working late or times in the park when it was just us. But never when he was around.
“Hey.” Lee catches my attention. “You all right?”
Am I all right?
“I am. I mean, look at this.” I smile as I take in everything Lee has brought. A thick cotton blanket he pulled from the back of his truck. A couple pillows to lay our heads on and the most beautiful spread of food. Cold cuts, a couple cold salads and a bottle of wine. “When did you have time?”
“Well, I cheated.” He pats the empty spot beside him. “I called down to the restaurant and had them make this up. Took the cooler from my truck and packed it with ice.”
“But when?”
“When you were getting ready.” He chuckles. “You had the music blasting. It was the perfect time to call down.”
“Good looking, intelligent and devious.” I take the spot beside him. “I love it.”
“I love you.” I lean over for a quick kiss, one that is over way to soon.
“I love you too.”
I will never tire of hearing him say those three little words. I love you.
We spend the day just lying here. Talking, cuddling, sometimes I read, while he sketches out a couple designs, and sometimes we just stare at each other. It’s as if we are the only ones here. Just me, him and the open sky.
“You ready to go?” He begins to pack the cooler back up, setting it out of the way. The day of resting and snacking is winding down.
“I really don’t want it to end,” I confess. “I don’t think I have ever felt this relaxed.”
“Me neither.”
“But I guess—”
“Hold on. I have an idea.” He jumps up and jogs to the truck.
My guitar.
He takes his time walking back so he can be careful with it. The closer he gets the wider my smile becomes.
“I thought maybe you can play me something?” He sets it down in front of me while he takes a seat, resting against the trunk of my tree.
Our tree.
“Really?” I have the guitar out and in my hands before he can answer.
“Looks like I couldn’t change my mind now even if I wanted to.” He lets out one of those sexy laughs, the kind that vibrates through his whole body and mine. Causing my cheeks to heat.
I clear my throat. “Umm, no.”
After playing a few songs, I find myself sitting in the middle of the blanket, legs crossed, guitar in my lap, and notebook spread out in front of me. The notes are flying, the words are scribbled. The inspiration is sitting against the spot that kept me company for years.
When I have it just right, I play through it one more time, humming the lyrics as Lee is busy sketching more designs.
“Bravo.” He sets the pad down, leaning over to run his fingers through my hair before he claims my lips in a gentle kiss.
“Thank you.” I turn my head, embarrassed by what I’m about to confess. I have never written a song for someone I cared about before. Life experiences, heartache, cheating, friendship…I’ve written about
everything and anything, but a song about someone you love? Never. “It’s for you. Hey! What’s that?” I reach out and grab his notebook.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I flip through the pages and see it’s nothing but me playing my guitar.
“You weren’t supposed to see that.” He snatches the pad back from me.
“It’s me,” I whisper.
“Well, it’s just your guitar and hands. I don’t do faces.” He smiles. “The eyes always look like they are oversized like those Japanese comic books. What are they called?”
“Mangas.”
“Yeah, those.” Lee makes a circle with each hand and holds them over his eyes. “They are huge.”
“Well, this.” I take it back to examine his work. “It’s amazing. I love it.”
“Well, well, well. I thought you would’ve been long gone by now.” An unwelcome voice barges in on our time.
Lee jumps up, pulling me with him, and hides me behind him. “Who are you?”
“What? You mean Eloise Jane never told you about her parents?” My father’s eyes narrow as he looks between the two of us.
I step in front of Lee, doing my best to take the hit. My father and I are at war and I refuse to let Lee be drawn in to it. Nathaniel
Hawthorne is a powerful man and I will not let him manipulate his way into Lee’s life.
“What do you want, Father?”
He looks behind him, pointing to the trails he used to run all the time. “Calm down, I didn’t want anything. As far as I know it’s a public park.”
“It is,” I retort, unable to come up with the words I really want to say. Sometimes when I’m around him I turn back into a defenseless child, always saying yes when inside I’m screaming no.
“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” He takes a step forward, waiting for the introduction, but I don’t give one.
“Lee Scott, sir.” Lee steps forward, extending his hand. His grip firm, the shake controlled, but by who?
“Nathaniel Hawthorne, one of the top-rated security and corporate finance attorneys in the Midwest.” He nods in my direction. “Also, Eloise’s father.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.”
“You may call me Mr. Hawthorne.” He drops Lee’s hand and examines his own before he gives it a quick swipe against his running shorts.
Lee gives me an “is this guy for real” look. All I can do is wince and shake my head.
“What’s wrong, Eloise? You’ve always been the talker. If I recall you had so much to say before you left for what I thought was Nashville.”
That is just like him, never taking ownership of anything. It’s always someone else’s fault. He always used to say, “I may be wrong, but I will make them believe I’m right.”
“I didn’t leave, Father. You threw me out with nothing except a bag of clothes.”
My father shakes his head and turns to Lee. “Can you believe this spoiled little brat?” He jerks his thumb toward me. “You show them a little tough love and they get all emotional about it.” My father takes a step toward me, a smirk plastered across his face. “Honey, you are twenty-three years old. You wanted to live your own life? Well, I just gave you a little push.”
“Holy shit! You are something else, you know that?” I take a step forward. Having Lee here gives me the extra strength I didn’t know I had. “I tried to live my life. I tried to pursue a career, make my own choices, but they weren’t your choices. Were they, Father?”
“Mr. Hawthorne, I would ask you to stay, but it seems as if you are upsetting my girlfriend. I need you to leave.” Lee is now in front of me.
Not waiting for the outcome, I start packing up the rest of our things. If he isn’t going to leave, then we will.
This trip to the park was just like the rest. Everything was always wonderful until he showed up.
“Lee Scott,” my father says, not only grabbing Lee’s attention, but mine. “Scott. Scott. Scott.” He taps his chin, eyes narrowing. “Where have I heard that name before?”
Lee and I just look at each other, wondering what he is up to. We know my mother and his obviously had some kind of connection from our run-in with Sammy-Jo a couple weeks ago, but neither of us pressed her for answers.
“Have you been in trouble with the law?”
“No, sir,” Lee quickly replies.
“Scott. Scott. Samantha Scott.” My father’s eyes widen. “You are Sammy-Jo’s son.”
There it is.
“Yes, Mr. Hawthorne, that is correct, but I was—”
“No need, son. Your mom was just like this one here.” My father snorts. “It’s all coming back to me now. Your grandparents had to raise you while she was off chasing her dreams.” He turns to me. “See, your boyfriend,” my dad seethes, “is a prime example of what happens when you try your hand in that industry. It’s not made for having families.” He glances back to Lee. “Isn’t that right, son?”
“Mr. Hawthorne, Ellie is nothing like my mother,” Lee spits back.
“You so sure about that?” My father inhales, then exhales. Being a lawyer, you have to choose your words carefully. This is him contemplating his next move. “Your mother and my wife were the best of friends. Anna wanted a family more than anything, more than music. That is why my daughter,” he jabs his finger in my direction, “had two parents raising her. A mother and father. Your mom? She never wanted a family and especially not a child. Music City was and always will be her life.”
“Father, what are you getting at?”
“My daughter here, she’s a selfish one. Her mother and I tried to break her, but it didn’t work. She always thought of herself, much like your mom, Lee.”
“Your daughter is anything but selfish. She has never put herself before—”
My father cuts him off. “You didn’t tell him, did you?” He pauses, looking between the two of us, waiting for me to answer a question, but I have no idea what he is asking. “She doesn’t want children.”
Lee turns toward me. I know he wants to ask me a million questions right now, but he also knows it will make things worse.
“Mr. Hawthorne, leave.”
“So, as much as I would like to think she is worth saving. She’s not.” He locks eyes with me. “She. Is. A. Lost. Cause.”
“Leave!” Lee shouts. “Now!”
Handing Lee my guitar, I grab the bag. “Lee, let’s just go.”
“No! We were having a pleasant day until he came up and invaded our spot. He can go.” Lee takes a step closer to my father, his breathing rapid. “Go!”
“Son, if you want to get technical, we used to bring Eloise here when she was a child, therefore making it our spot.”
Lee is fuming. If I were to throw water on him, I’m pretty sure it would turn right into steam.
“Lee.” I tug on his back pocket. “Let’s go.”
Leaning down, he crashes his mouth onto mine, but it’s more than a kiss. It’s him proving my father wrong. It’s him showing unity. It’s him protecting me.
“Okay. Let’s go,” he whispers across my lips. “Home.”
It’s funny how life works. How you can grow up in a house with two parents, but it never feels like home.
Lee, he’s my family now. My home.