Twelve years had passed since they met. The realization hit Melody one Tuesday afternoon in April as she folded laundry. She put the freshly folded socks down and took a moment to reflect on how Josh had changed her life. If they hadn't had that coincidental meeting that day, her life might never have truly started. She could thank him for her career. Her career, and his as a solo artist seemed to have mimicked their personal relationship. If it hadn't been for Josh, she wasn't even sure what her family would look like now. For sure there would be no Arabella or Harmony, but would there have been Ethan and Alicia? Alicia maybe, but she had a feeling that Josh was the key in her brother and his wife adopting Ethan.

She returned to her work, humming absently and enjoying the quiet of the nearly empty house. The girls were in school, and after a phone call earlier that morning, Josh had retreated to his home studio. He didn't spend as much time in there as he used to, especially the first few years of their marriage when they were both still singing and releasing albums. She had semi-retired six years earlier to focus on raising her daughters, and he had made the move from singing to working solely behind the scenes, writing and producing. The laundry folded, she placed it all in the basket and started for the bedrooms.

She smiled, catching sight of the awards on the bookshelf in the living room. Her career had been one wild ride. After breaking out at number one, she remained popular for the six years she had remained active in the industry, making enough money in those few years that she wouldn't have to work again the rest of her life if she didn't want to. She probably would though, for she knew that even if it had been over half a decade since she last sang in public, she still had some loyal fans. She had read the tweets, the facebook messages, some of the emails that even still came in through her official website. They waited patiently, hoping for new material.

She entered the bedroom and started the task of putting the clothing away. Sliding their underwear drawer closed, she glanced up at the somewhat battered piece of paper that was framed and hung above the dresser. The poem Josh had written her for her twenty-second birthday. The poem she loved so much she later had someone arrange into a duet that she sang with Josh on her sophomore album. She paused, reading the long since memorized words, enjoying seeing them in Josh's simple handwriting.

When she had finished the task, she found herself outside the studio door. The red light above the door was off and she knocked gently before opening the door and entering. Josh was sitting in his favorite swivel chair, strumming his acoustic. He spun around to face her as she entered and smiled, the lines around his eyes, etched deeper than when they first met, were just as crinkly as they had always been. Mel returned the smile and sat down on the small love seat. He put his hands over the strings to quiet the last chord he had played.

“Eric called this morning,” he said by way of a greeting. “He's got some new band starting out and wants to know if they can do a cover of 'Love'.”  Mel sat back.

“Really? What'd you tell him?”

“That I'd ask you, it was your song.” She thought for a few moments. “I don't know. On one hand, it's such a personal song. For both of us.” Josh nodded in agreement. “On the other hand, it'd be interesting to hear a different version of it.” She sat back, getting lost in the internal war she was having. Josh started strumming the guitar quietly after a moment or two.

“If they can squeeze in a demo of it next time they're in the studio, I'll listen and decide, I guess.” He nodded and changed from just random chords to playing the song quietly. Melody chuckled but started singing at the correct time. Josh joined with his part, as he always did.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence when the song ended.

“I've been thinking,” Mel broke the silence. “Maybe I'll put out a single, see what kind of an interest there is. Maybe I'll get back to work. The girls are old enough now, with Bella in middle school and Harm's not too far behind.”

Josh nodded. “If that's what you want.” “Think Lance would manage me again? He wasn't that bad of a manager. Bit busy with that boyband he was in, but luckily I was dating one of them and was with them most of the time anyways so that worked out,” she gently teased.

“Things have changed so much. Everything is digital now,” Josh continued, ignoring the friendly jibe. 

Melody got up, moving the guitar from her husband's hands and sat on his lap. “Though I think, maybe it's time for a new manager.” She ran her hand through his greying hair.

“Time to do you again if you still want to fight the grey,” she murmured. “Though I don't know why, you look good in grey.” “Thirty-seven is too young to be grey,” he muttered. 

Mel laughed softly. “No it's not. It proves you've been living life to the fullest.”

He smiled at her and kissed the tip of her nose, resting his forehead against hers. “Love you.”

“I love you too. So what do you think?”

“About what?”

She refrained from rolling her eyes. Some things never changed. “About me going back to work. You as my manager.”

“Good idea, and no.”

She pulled back a little to see him properly and pouted playfully. “Why not?”

“I don't want to be in that part of the business. I'm happy where I am right now, I don't want to give it up to spend my days making phone calls and decisions and trying to sort out the money issues. You could ask Eric, I'm sure he'd be happy to take you on.”

Mel shook her head. “I don't want Eric. I want someone already in the business, someone who knows what they're doing and someone I can trust completely.”

“There's always Johnny,” Josh half-heartedly suggested. 

“I'm too old to be one of Johnny's, and you know it. He specializes in the younger bands, not thirty-something has-beens hoping for a comeback.” 

“You're not a has-been,” he corrected her. 

“I'm not hoping for a comeback either, really. I don't need it, I just miss it,” she admitted. 

“I know, I miss it too, but I'm better behind the scenes, if I can't sing my songs, at least they're getting heard by people.” 

“You gave up on it too soon. I know, I know, the thing with the record deal wasn't what we hoped for, but you should have shopped around a bit more, someone would have done it eventually.”

Josh hummed his disagreement. “How did we get on this subject?” he asked. 

“Talking about potential managers for my return,”

“Ah.”

“It can wait.”

“What can wait?”

“Figuring out who to manage me since someone won't.”

“I don't like that part of the business.”

“I know.”

“But I'll write for you.” Melody grinned at him.

“That sounds wonderful,” she said before kissing him.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“About two, why?” “So we've got about an hour before the girls get home,” Josh smiled at her and guided a hand down from his neck.

“I've got a better idea, we can just turn the recording light on and lock the door and they'll leave us alone for as long as we want,”

“I love the way you think, honey,” he said as Melody got off his lap and moved to the door.

“I know,” she said as she flipped the red light outside on and flipped the lock on the door. 

The subject wasn't brought up again until that night over Chinese takeout.

“Girls, your mother is thinking of going back to work. What do you think?” Josh mentioned, spearing a wonton noodle with a chopstick.

“Does that mean Mom won't be here when we get home from school?” nine-year-old Harmony asked.

“Only sometimes, like when Dad goes away for work.”

“I won't have to go to KinderKare?” she asked, naming the school's after-school program.

“I don't think so, honey.”

“Okay. I don't want to go to KinderKare. Libby says it's boring,” she answered, mentioning her best friend.

“Bella, what do you think?” Josh prompted his oldest. She looked up from her plate, which she had been rearranging the food on.

“About what?” At barely eleven, her passion for art, and painting in particular had been evident for years and was often in her own world, much like her father at times.

“Honey, you're supposed to eat your food, not make landscapes out of it,” Melody chided.

“Mrs. Kary says anything can be art if someone takes the time to appreciate it,” the sullen preteen pronounced with an air that Mrs. Kary her favorite person.

“That's all well and good if you're the one buying the food strictly to make into art, and not your dinner,” Mel countered. “Now answer your dad's question, please.”

“I did answer it.” “What do you think about Mom going back to work?” Josh asked her, small smile painted across his features. The two shared a bond nobody else could fully understand, something that only people as creative as they were could share.

“Okay,” she replied simply, going back to arranging her Kung Pao Chicken into a tree on a bed of rice.

Josh caught Melody's eye across the table and they shared a glance, a private conversation between them going unnoticed by their children. Yes, twelve years to the day and he was changing her life again.