Strolling in the Chelsea
Art District, she found the perfect gift for Hank in the window of
a small gallery on W. 25
th
Street. The oil painting, in
the impressionist style, depicted a couple and a black dog walking
along a dirt road. Their destination, a small brook, could be seen
in the distance. Summer heat all but shimmered off the painting,
relieved by the cool blue water hinting at relief from the
relentless sun.
A woman exited the gallery and
approached her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Focusing on the
artwork she could see through the window, she asked, “Do you work
here?”
“I’m Sunny Sheldon. Sunnyside is my
gallery. Would you like to come in?”
She glanced once again at the painting
and nodded. “Yes, I would. I want that painting.” She pointed to
the summer scene.
Inside, she fell in love with several
of the artists’ works and bought one for herself and the one in the
window for Hank. She handed over her credit card and arranged to
have the paintings shipped.
“Are you
the
Melody Ravenswood?”
She handed the credit card back and slid the charge slip and a pen
across her desk.
Melody froze. Of all the purchases she
had made in the last few days, this woman was the first person who
had actually noticed the name on her card. “Yes, I am.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell. I know
what it’s like living in the shadow of a legend. My father is
Curtis Sheldon, the actor.”
Her matter-of-fact speech
put Melody at ease. “Oh! I love his movies. I guess you
do
know what it’s like.
I’ve just recently gone public. I’ve been trying to hide for most
of my life. Well, my entire life actually. I’m not used to being
recognized.”
“I’ve been living with the notoriety
since the day I was born. You get used to it, sort of. But there
are a few things you can do to minimize the intrusion in your life.
I’d be happy to give you some pointers.”
“Would you? I need all the help I can
get.”
“Are you free tonight? I know a great
restaurant…”
* * *
Melody almost didn’t recognize her new
friend when she arrived at the small restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen.
Sunny had changed out of her business suite into jeans, a black
turtleneck sweater, and Ugg boots. Her long yellow-blonde hair was
hidden under a knit cap. She had transformed from the sophisticated
gallery owner to just another busy shopper in Manhattan. She
blended in seamlessly.
Sunny talked about what it was like
growing up the daughter of a well-known movie star. Her mother
wasn’t part of the business, much like Melody’s, and the women
quickly found many areas of common ground. Sunny was two years
older than Melody, but had a lifetime of experience dealing with
being the offspring of a celebrity.
“I admit, I’m probably not as
newsworthy as you are,” Sunny said, “but I’ve found if you act like
a non-celebrity, the world treats you like one. I don’t do anything
to draw attention to myself…unless I’m in the market for attention,
say for a charity event. Otherwise, I dress like everyone else. I
keep a low profile, and when there is something newsy going on in
my life, I smile for the cameras and let them take all the pictures
they want. I go to great pains to make sure I’m as dull as
dishwater the rest of the time, and they leave me alone. In other
words, I hide in plain sight.”
“I don’t know how well it would work
for me,” Melody said.
Sunny shrugged. “You’re big news
because you just popped back up on the radar. Given what you’ve
told me about the way your father died, there’s going to be some
interest about you ever so often. My advice? Give them what they
want. A few photo ops, release a statement through a publicist, lay
low somewhere, and they’ll go away. Think about it. It’s the same
people in the tabloids all the time.”
“I guess you’re right. There are lots
of people you never hear anything about.”
“That’s because they don’t draw
attention to themselves, and if someone wants a photo, they smile
and let them take one. The tabloid photographers are trying to make
a living. Give them something to sell once and awhile, and they’ll
be a lot nicer to you. Like I said, there are certain times when
they might come hunting for you, but if you’re proactive, you can
manage them to suit you.”
“You’ve given me something to think
about,” Melody admitted. “I just wish the interest would die
down.”
“It will. Give it time. But if you
just go about your business and smile for a camera once in a while,
then when you want some publicity for the book you wrote, the media
types will be more likely to give you good press.”
* * *
Melody scanned the crowd of holiday
travelers at San Diego’s Lindbergh Field, looking for familiar
faces.
“Uncle Jonathan,” she cried. “It’s so
good to see you.” She threw her arms around him as he stepped off
the escalator.
He returned her hug. “Hello, luv. I’ve
missed you. You remember Miriam don’t you?” He reached for the
woman accompanying him. She’d been right about Jonathan’s traveling
companion, and though she hadn’t had a chance to get to know Miriam
yet, she couldn’t be happier for Jonathan. It was about time he
found someone who recognized what a wonderful man he was. She only
hoped Miriam had the fortitude to stick it out once Jonathan’s
career got back into full swing. He’d need a strong woman by his
side.
Melody smiled at the older woman.
“Sure I do. I’m so glad you could come.” She gave her a warm hug.
“Let’s get your luggage. You’ll be staying with me. My house is
larger than Mom’s, and she’s agreed to have Christmas dinner there
as well.”
While they waited for the luggage at
the carousel, Jonathan pulled Miriam close. “Melody, we have a
surprise.”
“Oh? Am I going to like
it?”
“I hope so, luv.” He gave his
companion a little squeeze. “I asked this lovely lady to marry me,
and she said yes!”
Happiness radiated off the couple like
the midday sun reflecting off the ocean. Melody embraced them both.
“I couldn’t be happier! When’s the big day? Are you going to have a
big wedding? Am I invited?”
“We’ll tell you everything.” He
grabbed their bags off the carousel. “Let’s get out of here
first.”
Later, sitting on the patio sipping
champagne, the happy couple regaled Mel with their plans for a fall
wedding in Willowbrook. After they were married, they planned to
split their time between England and Texas, spending summers at
Ravenswood, and winters in Texas.
She was genuinely happy for them, but
she secretly wondered if Miriam knew what she was getting herself
into. Christmas Eve, she walked alongside the older blonde on the
beach, enjoying the sunshine and the soothing sound of the surf.
She couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.
“Miriam, are you ready for the kind of
public life Uncle Jonathan leads? After the ‘Melody’ tour, he’s
going to be in demand as much as he ever was. The paparazzi will be
everywhere, even in Willowbrook.”
The older woman continued walking as
she chose her words. “I appreciate your concern, but I’ve given it
a lot of thought. I love Jonathan more than anything. Being with
him means more to me than my privacy does. Besides, the reporters
won’t be inside our house with us. We aren’t going to do one of
those daily life reality shows or anything. Jonathan assures me
when he’s not on tour, he plans to lead a rather quiet life. The
paparazzi follow the people who insist on throwing themselves into
the limelight. We have no intention of doing that.”
“What about the times when you’ll be
out in the social whirl? Uncle Jonathan said he wanted to get back
into the business, which means public appearances and even more
tours maybe. How will you deal with all of that?”
Miriam’s voice relayed confidence.
“We’ll handle it together. I’ll stand by his side and he’ll stand
by mine. I won’t hold him back, if that’s what you’re concerned
about. He’s an incredibly talented musician. If he wants to share
his talent with the world, I wouldn’t hold him back, but the rest
of him is mine and mine alone.”
“I wasn’t concerned about you holding
him back. I don’t think you could, even if you tried. He’s come out
of his self-imposed retirement, and I’m pretty sure he won’t be
going back anytime soon. I’m really glad he’ll have you by his
side. I think you’ll be good for him. He’s been alone for a long
time.”
“So have I. I was married once, a
lifetime ago. We weren’t together very long before he was taken
from me. We didn’t have any children, something I always wanted.
That’s past both of us, but we’ll have each other, and I hope we’ll
have you, too. I know Jonathan thinks of you as a
daughter.”
“He’s been a father to me for almost
seventeen years. I love him with all my heart. That won’t ever
change.” They stopped at the wooden staircase winding up the cliff
face to her house. “I’m glad you’ll be staying at Ravenswood part
of the year. The summers there are beautiful.”
Miriam hugged her tight. “Thank you. I
can see why Jonathan loves you so much. I’m honored to be part of
your family.”
Melody’s mother joined them for dinner
and stayed the night so they could get an early start opening
presents the next day. Melody woke to the smell of coffee and
bacon. She found her mother and Miriam laughing and working
together. Diane regaled Miriam with stories of Jonathan during the
years they toured together with RavensBlood.
Melody took a seat at the counter and
nibbled fresh fruit from a prepared platter while she listened to
the stories, none of which she’d ever heard before. Jonathan joined
them. He helped himself to coffee and added his own
anecdotes.
She’d never heard her mother speak so
openly about her time with RavensBlood. It was a side of her mother
she didn’t know, and one she desperately needed to understand. She
listened attentively, noting the easy way she and Jonathan
interacted, the story telling seesawed back and forth between them
as they each told their side of the story. Contrary to what she’d
always believed, it became clear her mother had enjoyed her time as
a backup singer. Why then had she always discouraged her daughter
from pursuing music—even to the point of banning her father’s music
in their home?
She followed the couple to the family
room after breakfast to open presents, so she put her questions
aside to enjoy the moment. Jonathan handed her a small
package.
“Hank sent it,” he said.
She carefully unwrapped it. Inside was
a folded note and, beneath, a beautiful gold chain and a
gold-plated house key. She read the brief note.
The key to my
heart.
The key to our
home.
Love,
Hank
.
She looked up to meet Jonathan’s
sympathetic gaze.
“He asked me to bring it to
you.”
She closed her fingers around the key.
“Thank you. It means everything to me. He’s well? You’ve seen
him?”
“I’ve seen him. He’s
surviving.”
Her heart lurched.
Surviving.
Getting by.
Just like she was.
She hung the key around her neck and
pressed it close to her heart. “I know it’s hard for him. It’s hard
for me, too, but I have to resolve my issues I my own way. I hope
he understands.”
Jonathan stood and held his hand out
to her. “Let’s go for a walk.”
She followed him down the steep
staircase to the beach and across the sand to the wet surf
line.
“The man is crazy about you,” he said.
“You have to know that.”
“I do. I’m just so messed up right now
I can’t think about being with him the way he needs me to
be.”
“What’s wrong, luv? Can I help
you?”
They strolled along the surf for a few
minutes before she answered. “I have a lot of things to work out
for myself. I’ve made a decision, and I hope you can help me with
it.”
“Anything. You know I’ll do anything
for you.”
With Hank’s biography at the editor’s,
she had no reason to put off the next step of her plan any longer.
She took a deep breath and let the words flow out with it. “I’m
going to write a book about Daddy. A biography.”
Jonathan stopped in his tracks. “You
don’t have to do that.”
She took another step and turned back
to him. “Yes, I do. Mom has done her best to shelter me from the
media, from life. Even to the point of not telling me my own father
was dead. I wasn’t allowed to listen to his music growing up or
take piano lessons. I don’t understand any of it, Uncle Jonathan. I
need to make sense of it before I can move on. Don’t you see? Hank
leads the same kind of life you and Daddy did. It scares me because
I don’t really know anything about his life. I need to. I need to
understand why Mom sheltered me so much.”
He stared out across the ocean. Melody
waited for him to speak.