August, 1995

"Good afternoon!"

A hush came over the crowd of students as the instructor breezed into the classroom, dropping a stack of folders and books on her desk before turning to face her audience.

"I’m Professor Alexandra Summers and this is Music Composition I." She crossed her arms over her chest. “If you intend to major or minor in anything other than music, then you are here by mistake. If you aspire to be anything other than a lyricist, songwriter, composer or – at the very least – a performer, then you are here by mistake. If you do not know the difference between a lyricist and a songwriter ..."  Her brow arched at the class as she paused.

“Then you are here by mistake.” The class chorused behind her, some students chuckling at her humor.

“Exactly.” Professor Summers leaned back to sit on the edge of her desk with a smile. “Facts are facts: over my years of teaching, this class has achieved a forty-five percent dropout rate by the second week and a sixty-five percent dropout rate by mid-term. Of those who survive the first term, less than half return. Of those who complete the Bachelor’s program, less than two percent are successful.” Her blonde hair swayed as she turned her head to take in the young people before her. “This class and this program are designed to bring out the absolute best in those who have the drive to succeed. But only those with the grit to work hard will get there.”

A twitter passed through the students as they fidgeted and looked among themselves, then the focus turned back to the head of the class.

“It’s one thing to have a dream. It’s another to achieve it.” The professor nodded as she continued. “On the same token, it’s one thing to aspire to greatness. It’s another to possess the talent that obtains it. Most of you have probably been scribbling poems and lyrics, strumming or tinkling out tunes for years. Your parents and your friends have convinced you that you have what it takes. That’s all well and good. However, the goal of this four-year track is to establish a well-rounded and distinguished portfolio. Ideally, that portfolio will include instrumental compositions, songs with full arrangements and standard lyrical submissions.”

“The doors of this classroom will be open three times a week, to allow you to submit works for consideration. You may also present work to me at my office. My hours and contact information are in the packet you’ll receive as we dismiss. Outside of this classroom, I expect you to spend hours upon hours fine-tuning your work – this is a perfectionist’s field, people. If you are striving for less, drop this class today.”

“As demos are required to accompany your arrangements, you will be expected to log enormous amounts of time in the music labs – the recording technicians will become your best friends. Get to know them, and quickly. They are your assets. Some of you will prefer not to provide your own vocals on your demos. If that is your circumstance, I suggest you make nice with the folks over in the Vocal department – they’re willing to provide voices, and most are easily directed.” She cleared her throat and took a drink from the mug on the corner of the desk. “Keep in mind that you will be required to perform during your final Senior showcase presentation. In order to obtain your final degree, you must vocalize at least a portion of your own work before a board of your professors. If that poses a problem for you, perhaps you should enroll in a vocal course as one of your electives.”

“For those of you who were able to purchase the software programs suggested during your class orientation, you have an advantage. And those of you already familiar with how to operate it are a lucky bunch indeed. You’ll be able to achieve far more without having to utilize the campus facilities, especially if you’re submitting an instrumental composition. Those demos may be finalized using that software and submitted without using the campus labs.”

“By each term’s end, you are required to have submitted exactly twelve completed works for my approval. You may submit as many pieces as you’d like – darken my door every day, if you must – but under no circumstances will you pass this course if you attempt to submit less than twelve. Do not fear if your work is rejected. Very rarely is a student allowed to enter all of their work into their portfolio.”

“For anyone participating in the Bachelor’s program, I will serve as your advisor. I encourage you to use me. Ask for my advice. Seek for my direction. On occasion, I encounter a student with great potential. For those who impress me, I have contacts that I am happy to utilize to their advantage.” She straightened from the desk and picked up one of the folders. “Strive to impress me. It will be to your benefit. Class dismissed.”

As the students filed out the door, she distributed packets, measuring who she would likely not see again.

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Professor Summers.” A petite brunette greeted her as she accepted the packet, a smile lighting her features. “I look forward to working with you.”

She was the only student to engage, and it was a bit of a surprise, given her gentle appearance, but upon further scrutiny, the determination was obvious behind her brown eyes. This girl had a spark, a grit to her that told of her willingness to fight for achievement. “I look forward to it as well, Miss …”

“Lawson. Jen Lawson.” With a nod, she pulled her bag up higher on her shoulder as she began to move toward the door. “I think we’re going to get to know each other very well.”

*********************

“Three?” The next day, she found herself staring at Jen across her desk as she was handed three packets of sheet music accompanied by three demo discs. “Already? When did you find the time to complete three pieces?”

“I did my research and bought the software over a year ago. It seemed like a good idea to go ahead and learn how to use it.” The girl shrugged. “I’ve been working on instrumentals for as long as I’ve been writing, so all I had to do was connect my keyboard and start playing.” A smile began to form. “I love my piano, but being able to work up the string and orchestral arrangements was fun. And streaming from my guitar is so much easier than trying to hand write all those notations.” Her brow furrowed. “I have a few other things almost ready, but I wasn’t able to make it to the labs last night, so none of these have vocals. Is that okay?”

“We’re only two days into the term, you’re already done with a quarter of the assignment and you want to know if it’s okay that they’re instrumentals?” Shaking her head, the professor sat back in her seat, studying her student intently. “You know what? Close the door and have a seat. Normally, I’d critique a demo alone and get back with advice, but let’s listen together.”

“All right.” Jen immediately pushed the door closed, pointing toward the middle packet as she sat down. “Can we start with that one? I’d really like to know what you think.”

Professor Summers placed the disc in the system beside her desk, pressed Play and sat back with her eyes closed as piano music filled the room. “Very nice.” She spoke softly. “Lovely.” After a minute and a half, the orchestration swelled to join in and she sat up, the hairs on her arms raising with the rich emotion flowing from the speakers. Too soon – but in perfect fashion – the piece ended, silence suddenly falling over them.

Her hand trembled as she removed the disc, placing it back with the sheet music for the piece. “When did you write this?”

“I started it a few years ago.” Clearing her throat, Jen looked down at her hands. “My father passed away when I was thirteen, and music was my escape so I could cope. Composing, writing lyrics and my best friend were the only things that kept me sane afterward. I wanted to write something that I could dedicate to him and while I have notebooks and journals full of material, this was the first one I finished. I call it Homeward Bound.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Jen. But this …” Fingers tapped over the packet. “This is astounding. You’re so young. How old are you?”

“I’m about to turn nineteen.”

“Nineteen.” Wonder filled her voice as she reached for the next disc. “Can we listen further?”

“Sure.” A smile spread when she saw the selection. “I wrote this one this past spring. I was so excited to move down for school and Josh – my friend – was coming with me for an opportunity of his own. I have a few other songs with lyrics that came about at the same time, but this was just a fun session on my guitar and I love how it turned out.”

Both sat to listen as the whimsical guitar melody began to fill the room. Jen closed her eyes and began to sway with the rhythm, her fingers strumming absently against her leg as she relived the piece.

“I think I’ve heard enough.”

“Professor Summers …” Concern etched lines across her forehead. “Was it okay?”

“Jen, as long as we’re in this office, call me Alex.” She stood and came around the desk, her hands settling on the girl’s shoulders. “And it was beyond okay … these instrumentals are phenomenal. If your composition work is any indication of your lyrical work, then I’m beyond excited to see what else you submit. Make sure to go down to the lab this week and work with one of the engineers on some vocal demos. In fact, when you go in, ask for Brian and tell him that I sent you. We need to see what you’ve got as a songwriter.”

*********************

“Hey Amber … I’m late!” Jen jogged down the hallway of the community center, pausing only long enough to wave into her boss’ office and drop her guitar case by the door. “Where are they?”

“I know you are. Maggie’s got them in the viewing room, I think.” Amber made it to her door in time to see the younger girl skidding around the corner, heading for the kids’ area. “What’s going on?”

“We’ll talk later! Maggie’s gonna kill me!” As she neared the room that housed a large television and an array of bean bag chairs, she took a deep breath, trying to calm down before pushing through the door and into the darkened room. Allowing a moment for her eyes to adjust, she finally located Maggie sandwiched between two kids, fixated on Peter Pan teaching Wendy how to fly.

“How’s it going?” She whispered, kneeling behind them.

“Fine. It’s been a good day for movies. Nobody’s really in the mood for much, since school just started.” Maggie extracted herself from the chair, and the children took the opportunity to stretch out. “By the time this is over, the parents should be getting here.”

“Awesome. Sorry I’m late.”

“No problem.” The redhead shrugged, then suddenly focused. “Wait a second. You were meeting with your advisor. Did you turn in your demos? How’d it go?”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Jen’s lips twitched into a smile. “But we’re having celebration pancakes tonight.”

“Ooooh … I love celebration pancakes!” Maggie gave her a quick hug. “Can mine have the cinnamon-sugar stuff like you did the last time? Those were delish.”

“Yep. Now get going, or you’ll be late for class. I’ve got Chloe’s guitar lesson after this, but I’ll see you at home.”

“Don’t be too late, Jen. You look tired.” With a quick glance to her watch, she picked up her bag and dashed out the door. “See you later. Have fun!”

True to her word, the movie ended with just enough time to get everyone’s things gathered to go home. After the last car had pulled away, Jen made her way back to Amber’s office to collect her guitar and student. “Hey, Chloe. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” Looking to her mother, the girl stood. “Are you gonna listen tonight, Mom?”

“I’ll be there in a minute, sweetie.” Amber glanced up with a smile. “I’ve got a little more paperwork to do, then I’ll lock up.”

Not long after, the ten-year-old was tapping her foot as they strummed through Sweet Caroline, laughing when Jen and Amber sang the ‘Bum-Bum-Bum’ that accented the chorus.

“It’s almost six, girls. We need to be wrapping it up.”

“Okay, Mom.” Chloe packed away her guitar, then hugged Jen around the waist. “Thanks, Jen. That was fun!”

“You’re doing great, kiddo.” Jen returned the embrace with a smile. “Pretty soon, you’ll be getting all those chords on your own.”

“You think so?” Wide blue eyes glittered with childish joy.

“I know so.”

“You hear that, Mom? I’m getting good!” She didn’t wait for a response, just picked up her case and dashed for the office to grab her bag.

Amber grinned at her daughter’s back, shaking her head. “She loves learning to play. Thank you for being so patient with her.”

“Hey, there was a day when somebody had to be patient with me. I get it.” As she always did, Jen immediately thought of Matt when she heard her boss’ laughter. Tilting her head, she studied Amber carefully: late twenties, mid-height, long blonde hair, great smile. They’d be cute together.

“You’re staring at me. Did I drop my lunch or something?” Amber brushed her hands down her shirt, looking for stains in the fabric.

“No, but I wanted to ask …” Jen smiled tentatively. “There’s a guy I’d like you to meet. I’ve been considering giving him your number, but I figured I’d better ask first.”

“Guitar teacher and now matchmaker?” A blonde eyebrow arched. “That’s a stretch.”

“Hear me out. His name is Matt, he’s cute and he’s single. He’s working with a friend of mine and I’ve spent quite a bit of time around him. Kind of busy, but a great guy.” She shrugged. “No promises, but it couldn’t hurt for me to pass it on.”

“Well …” Amber bit her lip. “It’s been a long time, Jen.”

“I figured. That’s why this is perfect. No strings attached. I’ll give him your number and if he doesn’t call, then he doesn’t call. You won’t even have met him.”

“When you put it like that, then sure. Why not?”

“Great.” Jen pulled a scrap of paper from her bag. “Do you want him to have this number or your home number?”

“Home. He can leave a message if I’m not there and it won’t lead to a million questions from the secretary.”

“All right. Home it is.” She scratched the number down and pushed the paper in her pocket. “Sorry I was late. I had a meeting with my advisor at school.”

“Really? Everything all right?” Amber picked up her bag and started toward the door, where Chloe was waiting impatiently.

“Actually, everything’s great. I turned in some demos for my portfolio and she loved them.” Jen dug her keys out of her pocket as she stepped outside and headed for her car with a wave. “I’m heading home to celebrate. You ladies have a great night.”

*********************

An array of vehicles was in the drive when she pulled into the garage … rehearsal was running long tonight. She could hear music beneath her feet as she hung her bag in the hallway and returned her guitar to its stand.

A smile formed at the smooth blend of voices coming up from the basement and she trailed her fingers over the piano, making her way to the kitchen to begin assembling the ingredients for the meal she’d been planning. Before long, she had sausage patties and seasoned potatoes cooking in skillets on the stove and a pan of bacon crisping in the oven, the smells making her mouth water as she set out various types of syrups and sauces for pancakes. A glance at the clock told her that Maggie would arrive shortly, so she began mixing together a triple portion of batter and gathering various add-ins, mixing up a deep saucer of cinnamon-sugar and melting some butter for her friend’s requested coated cakes.

Jen was just setting the bowl of potatoes on the table when the door to the garage opened and a familiar groan carried into the room. “Girl, you seriously need to teach me how to cook.”

“I’ve tried, but you seem to think that food tastes better when someone else is fixing it. Remember?” She laughed and headed back to where her griddle was heating. “They’re still working downstairs. If we hurry, you can have your plate fixed before they make an appearance. Do you want your cakes plain or do you want chocolate chips before I coat them?”

“Chocolate chips? Heck, yeah.” Maggie stole a piece of bacon from the platter and was crunching through it as she walked into the kitchen. “So, your meeting was good?”

“It was better than good. It was fantastic.” Jen smiled as she poured three round circles of chocolate chip batter on the griddle. “Professor Summers was … I got the feeling she was impressed.”

“From what I hear, that’s something to be more than happy about. Rumor has it that she really doesn’t get too excited over much.”

“Well, she seemed excited today.” Turning over the cakes expertly, she gave each a pat. “Guess I made a good first impression. Hand me a plate, will you?”

The music from downstairs came to an end as Maggie fetched the plate and studied her calm demeanor for a moment before grinning. “You’re dancing on the inside, aren’t you?”

“You’d better believe it.” She managed to get the cakes off the griddle before she started bopping across the tile floor. “She said my demos were phenomenal!” Her hips swung back and forth as she spun in a circle. “And she can’t wait to hear what else I have!” Laughing, she brushed each pancake with melted butter before tossing them in the cinnamon sugar and stacking them on the plate to hand over to Maggie. “Chocolate Chip Snickerdoodle pancakes, as ordered. Toppings are on the table, if you need them.”

The basement door burst open and a chorus of groans accompanied the group filing out of the hallway as she quickly mixed more chocolate chip batter and poured four circles on the griddle. “Pancakes made to order, guys. Grab a plate and figure out what you want. I’ve got four chocolate chip cooking.”

After a rush of shuffling, she turned to find Joey standing first in line, charming smile in place. “How is it that you don’t have a man, Hot Stuff? Your food alone should have them lined up around the block.”

“Why do I need a man?” She flipped the pancakes onto his plate with a sigh. “I’ve already got at least six to feed most nights.” Arching an eyebrow, her hand playfully patted Joey’s stomach. “Besides, my dating would probably have me somewhere else right now. You wouldn’t want this thing to suffer, would you?” A smile flashed across her face as she steered him out of the way. “Get out of my kitchen. What’ll you have, J?”

Four plates later, the adrenaline was fading and weariness was setting in. She glanced over to JC, who had avoided the line and propped against the counter, talking to Chris and Lance until she sent them to the table, sneaking chocolate chips from the bowl when he thought she wasn’t looking. “Did you leave any for us?”

“Uh …” His eyes met hers like a guilty toddler who’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “There’s enough. Maybe.”

“It’s okay.” Laughing, she went on tiptoe and struggled to reach for a high cabinet. “There’s another bag.”

“Hang on. Let me …” He stepped behind her and put a hand on her waist, reaching over her head easily to open the cabinet and retrieve the bag she’d been grasping for. “These?”

“Yeah. Thanks. You guys sounded great as I was coming in.” She took the chocolate chips and set them down, trying to act unfazed when his hand stayed where it was. “I think we deserve extra tonight, don’t you?”

“Are these celebration pancakes?” His arm went around her, pulling her back until she leaned into his chest. “How did your advisor meeting go?”

“She said my compositions were phenomenal and she can’t wait to hear what I’ve got with lyrics.” Jen relaxed, letting her head rest against him. “I’m supposed to meet with Brian in the lab to record some vocal demos this week.” She looked up at him. “I thought I’d go over after my classes in the morning. Want to help me pick out a few to take?”

“I’d love to.” He squeezed her tightly in a hug and dropped a kiss against her hair. “That’s fantastic, Boof. I’m proud of you.” Blue eyes trailed over her face, darkening with concern. “You look exhausted.”

“Well, I was up late last night finishing out that third piece. And my first class was at eight this morning. It’s been a long day.” With a small smile, she pushed gently against his arm until he let her go. “Long, but great. And I’m starving. How many do you want?”

“You’re doing too much.” Tearing open the bag she’d laid on the counter, he poured some chips into the batter, added what was left in the bowl and stirred it together quickly before letting her approve. “Enough?”

“Yeah.” She watched with a raised brow as he began ladling the last of the batter into five pancakes on the griddle. “Are you seriously cooking for me?”

“Kind of, yeah. I’m a little late to the game.” Picking up the turner, he laughed. “And I probably need supervision, or these might turn out a little crispy. Long enough?”

“Not quite. Give it another minute.” When the edges appeared more firm, she nodded. “Okay, flip them, then pat each one down.”

He obeyed, smiling at the evenly browned surface of the cakes. “How long on this side?”

“Just a minute or two. The center was mostly cooked before the turn.” She reached over and picked up two plates from the counter. “Flip again to make sure they’re brown. Good. They look good.” Her elbow gestured toward the right side of the griddle. “I’ll take those two, you take the rest.”

His eyes cut toward her as he put two of the larger pancakes from the left side on her plate, reserving the smaller ones for himself. “Celebration pancakes, right? Go wild, Jen.”

“If you insist.” With a laugh, she turned off the griddle. “I can’t remember the last time somebody cooked for me. You know, other than in a restaurant. You’re the best, Josh.”

“Really?” He followed her to the empty seats at the table, pulling out her chair with his free hand so she could sit next to Matt. “Surely it’s not been that long.”

“Hmmm …” She thought about it as she poured chocolate sauce on her plate and passed the bottle to him. “My birthday last year. Mom was on second shift, so she fixed lasagna. And you had her make that cake because you were surprising me.” A smile formed as she scooped some Cool Whip from the container. “So, yeah, it’s been about a year.”

“You’ve cooked for yourself every day for a year?” Chris looked around at the plates littering the table with wide eyes. “God, Jen … why?”

“Well, I don’t cook like this every day, Chris. Jeez. I know I’m not exactly skinny, but I’m no Violet Beauregarde ready for the Juicing Room, either.” She laughed and shook her head as she took a bite. “Mom’s appetite never caught up to working seconds and I was afraid that she’d never get back to eating right, so I started cooking our meals together and leaving hers for when she was ready for it.” Her fork stabbed into a potato as she continued. “I’ll eat in a restaurant, but I’m really not a fan of fast food, period. And I’m not above having a bowl of cereal or a sandwich if I’m on my own and seriously not in the mood to fire up the stove. But I know you guys work hard when you’re here and I’d rather you all have a good meal after being active all day.” She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and added another piece of sausage to JC’s plate. “You know me. I have to take care of everybody.”

Her focus went to her plate for a few bites and silence took over as the others traded glances around the table.

“I appreciate it, Jen.” Matt leaned over and draped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing lightly. “More than you probably know.”

“Oh, I might have an idea.” Jen grinned at his empty plate, then her eyes widened and she set her fork down to reach into her pocket. “And I have a gift for you, by the way.” She held a folded piece of paper out to him. “Use this wisely.”

“Use what?” He unfolded the paper, then looked back to her. “Who is Amber and why do I need her number?”

“Amber is my boss and she’s absolutely fabulous.” She sent him a smile. “I know you’re a busy guy – she’s not expecting anything – but if you have any free time at all, she’s single and easing back out of a rough time.”

His brow arched sharply. “You’re setting me up?”

“No, I’m giving you a great opportunity to meet a wonderful woman.” Her head tilted. “She’s around your age, blonde, about Maggie’s height. Every time I hear her laugh, I immediately think of you. Just a head’s up, though … she has a daughter, Chloe, who’s ten and just the sweetest thing. If that’s an issue, then forget all about it.” She reached out and tucked the paper more securely into his hand. “But if you’re really the type of guy I’ve seen you to be, that won’t matter. Like I said, no expectations. I’d just really hate for you to miss out on her.”

“She’s not wrong, Matt.” Maggie spoke up from across the table. “Actually, she’s pretty much a genius. I’ve been trying to figure out who Amber reminded me of since I met her.” She sent a thumbs up to Jen. “Right on!”

“Okay.” Matt slipped the number into his pocket. “I’m not saying yes, but I’ll definitely think about it.”

“That’s all I ask.” Jen nudged him with her elbow. “Who knows? If this music thing doesn’t work out, maybe I should just open a restaurant and start hosting mixers. What do you think?”

“Oh, don’t let her fool you. She was on Cloud Nine earlier because she seriously impressed the professor who has the highest drop out rate on campus.” Maggie laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone with a happy dance like that.”

“Hey, I got positive feedback. That’s deserving of a happy dance, at the very least.”

“That’s great, Girlie.” Lance smiled her direction. “Who’s the professor?”

“Professor Alexandra Summers.” Jen took the last bite off her plate. “She’s direct, no-nonsense, absolutely scary beyond all reason, and wants vocal demos recorded by the end of the week, so I need to make some really good choices, fast. I’m terrified.”

“Alex Summers? Really?” Matt sat up straight. “She was one of the heads at Universal Publishing until she decided to retire a few years ago. I had no idea she was teaching now.” He looked over at Jen and nodded. “Even after retiring, she’s got connections like you wouldn’t believe. Get her to back you, and you’ll have a foot in doors most folks couldn’t even dream of.”

“Great. That totally relaxes me.” Turning an alarming shade of white, she buried her face in her hands. “I’m gonna take the wrong stuff in there and she’s just going to kick me right back out of her office.”

“And that’s definitely what isn’t going to happen.” Maggie stood up and started gathering dishes. “We’re gonna clean up and you’re going to your office for some quiet time before you pick the songs that’re gonna blow her socks off.” She looked over at JC. “Jace, go with her and keep her calm. She’s headed for a major freak out.”

“Yep. Let’s go, Boof.” He took her hand and pulled her from the chair. “You need a little time out and then we’ll figure it out together.”

She didn’t say a word as he led her through the living room and into her office. Once the door was closed behind them, she walked directly to him, fisted her fingers into his shirt and just leaned against him, taking deep, shuddering breaths. He wrapped an arm around her and buried the other hand in her hair, pulling her closer until her arms went around his waist, then started swaying slowly, humming a nonsense tune until her breathing calmed down.

“Josh?”

“Mmhmm?”

Her chest heaved with another deep breath. “I think I need to sit down.”

“Okay.” He took two steps back, only releasing her long enough to get settled on the couch across from the computer desk, his arms going back around her as she curled into his side. “Better?”

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest, listening to his steady pulse.

“Overdid it a little today, didn’t you?” His fingers combed through her hair and he rolled his eyes when he felt her shrug. “We get that you’re the mama bear around here, and you can do it all. But you can’t just take care of everybody else, Jen. You’ve got to take care of yourself, too. If you need help with anything, ask. There’s plenty of us around.”

“Uh huh.” Her tone was sleepy and non-committal as she moved, crawling onto his lap and looping an arm around his neck, snuggling further into his chest.

“Hey, I’m serious.” He shook her just a little, until her eyes opened to look up at him. “It’s just the beginning of the term. If you’re this worn out in the first week, then you’re headed for real trouble once testing starts. You’re acting like it’s a race to the finish when you’re still at the starting line. Don’t push yourself this hard, okay? Please? For me?”

“I promise.” She nodded with a sigh, then tucked her face against him again. “My classes start later in the morning and I seriously need a nap. Will you still help me go through some stuff tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick around.” He chuckled and pressed his lips to her forehead, settling back into the cushions when he realized she was already asleep, breathing steadily against him. “Like I’ve got a choice.”

About half an hour later, a knock came at the door before it opened, and Chris poked his head in the room. “You guys decent?”

“As decent as we can be, I suppose.” JC looked up with a grin, shaking his head. “What’s up?”

“Just checking that everything’s all right. It was awfully quiet in here.” Chris studied them for a minute, taking in how his friend was basically acting as a body pillow, Jen sleeping soundly on him. “Man, I’ve never seen anything like the two of you.”

“Yeah, we’re definitely one of a kind.” He glanced down when she began stirring against him, his hand making slow circles over her back. “She’d worn herself out and then stressed into a panic, I guess.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Jen turned her head to look blearily at Chris. “Just needed to chill for a little while. We’re good now.” She removed her arms from around JC’s neck, sitting up straight to stretch out the kinks before kissing his cheek. “Now I know why you’re so into napping. I feel awesome.” Standing up, she stretched again, then moved toward the door.

“Well, I’m glad.” His hands began massaging his thighs, working out the numbness. “I’ll let you know when I can walk again.”

“Wow.” Chris let a laugh escape, biting back the obscene comment hovering on the tip of his tongue. “Okay, then. Matt headed out a little while ago and Joey just took the kids back to the house. Apparently, air hockey brings out violent tendencies in Timberlakes. Especially when there are pool cues hanging around.”

“Oh, my.” Her eyes widened. “Everybody still in one piece?”

“Yep. Between me and Lance, we rescued both Joey and your pool equipment. At least he didn’t go for the darts.”

“And to think I nearly cleared that room out when I moved in. What joy we would’ve missed.” She laughed, then glanced back to JC. “I’ll be right back. Are you still okay to help me?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He was straightening out his legs slowly, wincing as they came back to life. “Chris, are you ready to go? I can stay here tonight if I need to.”

“Do you care if I sit in, too?” Chris looked to Jen. “I still haven’t gotten to hear any of your finished stuff.”

“I can use all the advice I can get. Grab a seat. Or better yet, start looking.” Her hand gestured toward the bookcase that was filled with thin manila packets as she walked out of the room. “They’re in alphabetical order and each one has a full arrangement disc, a backing demo disc, lead sheet and sheet music in it.”

“Wow.” He walked over to the case, his fingers flipping along the envelope edges until he pulled one out. “She has to have more than two hundred songs here.” Dark eyes darted over to JC. “Any chance any of these are about you?”

“Not that I know of.” JC grimaced as he got to his feet. “But then, the journals with purple dots are off limits to me, too. I’ve got no idea what’s in those. She could’ve killed me off a million times and I’d never know it.”

“Oh, I can make a few educated guesses at what’s so off limits. Seriously, though … you’ve never snuck even a little peek?” Chris slid a few pages of sheet music out to read, grinning as JC shifted his weight slowly. “And do you really think I’m buying that your only issue right now is numbness?”

“I’d like to remain in one piece, so no. She says it’s off limits, then it’s off limits.” A bit of crimson stained the back of his neck. “And did I say my only issue was being numb? No, I didn’t. But there are some things she really doesn’t need to know.”

“Hey, I’ve got eyes, Jace. I don’t blame you one bit.” With a nod, he put the packet back together and set it on the desk. “But Jen’s a really smart cookie. As clingy as you two are, it’s not likely she hasn’t caught on by now.”

“Then avoidance is our game, and we play it well.” JC joined him in flipping through the envelopes. “We’ve had years to practice.”

“Forget that, man. We’ve all seen how you guys dance around each other. As fun as it is to watch, it’s got to be exhausting.” Taking out another packet, he shook his head. “Do you have any idea what it does to her whenever you touch her?”

“We’ve always been touchy and as far as I can tell, she doesn’t react any differently now than when we were kids.”

“That’s because you’re not paying attention. She’s a real pro, you know. She goes stiff, then makes herself relax almost immediately. You totally affect her and she’s really good at not letting you see it.” Chris added the song to the desk. “There’s a flip side here, though. What does it do to you whenever you touch her?”

“I know exactly what it does to me, but it doesn’t matter. Until she lets me know she wants something more, her journals aren’t the only thing off limits.” Blue eyes narrowed dangerously as he glanced over. “For me or anyone else in this group. Look all you want, but don’t even think about trying to touch. She deserves better. Understood?”

“Oh, believe me … we all understand. Any guy who gets close enough to see you two together has no choice but to get the hint.” Dark brows arched. “But do you honestly think there’s any chance she’s going to find someone better for her than you are? If you really can’t see that you’re already the best thing in her world, Jace, then keep your distance. But one good kiss, and I’m pretty sure you’d be changing your own rules.”

“Whatever.” They both went quiet as they heard Maggie and Jen approaching the door. JC’s thumb brushed over a name on the envelope below the song title. “Who do you think Mrs. Novak is?”

“You don’t remember the Novaks? They lived on the corner between us when we were in high school.” Jen smiled as they came in the room, passing them bottles of water. “Mr. Novak got really sick after you left for the show and I started doing grocery runs for them. He passed away not long after that, and Mrs. Novak was so sad that I made a point to stop in and visit her.” She took the packet from him, pulling out the disc and lead sheet. “She always made the best peanut butter cookies – I’ve got the recipe somewhere – and loved to talk about how they met. Their parents were against them being together, but even after sixty years of marriage, she said that he was the only one she’d ever wanted.” Powering on the sound system, she opened the disc tray. “The day after I finished this, I took my guitar over and played it for her. She just hugged me and cried. A few weeks later, she was gone, too.”

Piano and guitar music filled the room, accented by a simple percussion track, and she leaned against the desk, nodding her head to the beat as she followed along with the lead sheet in her hand. By the second verse, she’d put the page down and was mimicking the guitar chords against her legs, reciting the words from memory.

Ain’t nothin’ better
We beat the odds together
I’m glad we didn’t listen
Look at what we would be missin’

They said "I bet they’ll never make it"
But just look at us holdin’ on
We’re still together, still goin’ strong

You’re still the one I run to
The one that I belong to
You’re still the one I want for life
You’re still the one that I love
The only one I dream of
You’re still the one I kiss good night

The chorus repeated once more, then Chris glanced over at JC when the song ended, eyes widened. “I know I’ve joked about it before, but she’s seriously not human, is she?” When JC just grinned, he shook his head and turned back to Jen. “You wrote that in high school and you’re worried about your lyrics not being good enough? What planet are you from?”

“One that breeds bleeding hearts, apparently.” She sighed. “You know, weaklings who go hunting for a recipe I haven’t seen in years just because you lit up at the words ‘peanut butter cookies’?”

“Score!”

“Home planets aside, definitely take that one. That was awesome. You really need to use the song you were working on for Jake and Sam, too, if it’s finished. You know, the foolish games one? And how about the one you were writing for me?” Maggie headed across the room, then turned to the desk when she noticed a note on an envelope laying on the edge. “Hey, who’s ‘Guy from Smoothie Shop’?”

“Literally what it says – a guy from a smoothie shop.” Jen laughed as she took the packet Maggie was holding. “The Saturday after we moved in, I had to run to a few stores and skipped lunch, so I stopped in this little shop for a smoothie. I’d only been there a few minutes and this guy in a suit just sat down across from me and started talking. When he realized I wasn’t who he thought I was, he tried to leave, but I felt bad for him, so I got him to stay and vent. He’d just been the best man at his cousin’s wedding and the bride was his ex-girlfriend. They’d dated all through high school and into college, then she dropped him just as he was about to propose. Not even a year later, there they were. He wasn’t totally over her, but he did right by his cousin and stood up for him.” She made sure she had the full arrangement disc before putting it in the tray. “I never got his name, but he seemed like a nice guy. His heart was still a little broken, and the only negative he could come up with was that he’d hated the champagne at the ceremony. I came home and wrote this. It’s really for a male vocal, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work. I love the arrangement, and the third verse and bridge are one of my favorites.”

“Can I?” JC held his hand out for the sheet music as the disc began to play, sight-reading quickly as the song progressed, paying close attention to the part she’d said was her favorite.

Your wagon’s been hitched to a star
Well now, he’ll be your thing that’s new
Yeah, what little I have you can borrow
’Cuz I’m old and I’m blue

And for the million hours that we were
Well, I’ll smile and remember it all
Then I’ll turn and go
While your story’s completed, mine is a long way from done

Chris leaned over and followed along for the last choruses, adding a higher harmony to the lead line.

Jen grinned at Maggie as the music closed and gestured to the duo, who were still studying the sheet music. “And that’s when I’ll know I’ve made it.”

“What?” Chris looked up from where he was pointing something out on the pages with an approving nod. “When?”

“When you guys are huge – you know it’s going to happen – and I write something your powers-that-be actually want you to record, I’ll know I’ve made it.”

“Somehow, I think you’re going to get there before we do.” Chris looked back down at the lyrics. “You’re more than a songwriter, Jen … you’re a storyteller. I’ll bet you have songs on those shelves that big names are going to be fighting over long before we get to release anything.”

“Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out, huh?” She walked over to the bookcase, flipped through and quickly pulled out five more packets. “Give me a few more minutes and we’ll call it a night. Tomorrow could just be the day that makes or breaks my career.”