Chapter 16

It took me ten days to craft the lyrics. If it was important to Amelia, it was important to me. Amelia bugged me daily asking if I’d finished and wanting to look at what I’d written. However, her constant pestering wasn’t curiosity. She was very serious about it. I refused to show her my draft, which only made her more curious, so I took to locking the draft in the desk drawer.

But, on an early Thursday afternoon, as Amelia played the piano, I finished the lyrics to my satisfaction, and took them to her.

“Here ya go,” I said, handing it over.

Amelia’s eyes were bright with excitement. She became absorbed in reading the lyrics, so I parked myself in the armchair.

Rufus arrived, tail wagging and sat in front of me. In his mouth he had my new Smartphone. Where had he gotten it? I thought I’d put it out of reach on the kitchen counter!

Grabbing it, I stroked the soft fur on his head. It looked like he grinned at me before standing and walking over to Amelia. He flopped down next to her, head resting on his paws, eyes upturned to Amelia.

Amelia was still reading the lyrics.

“They aren’t that long,” I commented.

Without looking at me she responded, “I’m memorizing them. Don’t distract me.”

Properly chastised, I shrugged and played with the Smartphone. One icon caught my eye. That would be fun. Pressing the icon, a video app started. I fiddled with it, recording my feet. Satisfied I could operate it, I waited.

Amelia, bent and reading the music sheet with my lyrics, nodded, sat up straight, and closed her eyes. She caressed the keys. Music started.

I started recording, just for the heck of it.

The now familiar song filled the living room. Then Amelia began to sing. She sang with angst I didn’t know my words had, with the pain of loss, with sorrow, a heart-rending lament to her mother and father. The Smartphone shook as I listened to the exquisiteness of her talent. Then a lighter musical melody emerged, her voice soaring, louder, joy and brightness filling the living room, only to pass and plunge into angst again.

A chill passed down my spine when I noticed tears slowly rolling down Amelia’s cheeks, her head tilted slightly, and then her voice soared into the heavens again in a final, powerful goodbye.

I actually had tears in my eyes when silence arrived. She’d shaken me deeply. I’d never seen anything so moving, so heartfelt, so emotional. And then she opened her eyes and looked at me.

“The lyrics are perfect, Mike. I think Mom and Dad will like it.”

I nodded. My throat was choked up.

Two days later, sitting in our production office, a small bungalow on the Warner Bros studio lot, I waited for Peter to get off the phone.

My three months off work was a Hollywood vacation. Actors and directors measured their self-worth in publicity and attention, unable to accept being out of the spotlight, the center of attention, their egos too big and fragile. My vacation was four days a week away from the office, two calls every day from Peter, and a coterie of sycophants whining for my attention, for validation. Media called, hoping for a delicious tidbit of gossip, driving Peter, and thus me, to distraction.

We had two projects in development, not counting my latest screenplay. Each required shepherding, nurturing, or it would die a silent death. Each was scheduled for production in the new year. It promised to be a busy year.

“That was TMZ,” Peter informed me, ending the call. “They heard a rumor Liana Liberato had been picked to play the lead in your new screenplay.”

It infuriated me. “I told you to stop handing out copies of the script, Peter!” Then I paused. She was excellent in Erased. She’d make a perfect Mia. Maybe we should consider her.

Peter looked hurt. “I didn’t. They didn’t know the name of the movie, just rumors. Relax.”

“Sorry.”

He studied me. “I thought this vacation was supposed to relax you. Is everything okay?”

I leaned back in the chair and smiled. “Yeah, everything is fine. Better than fine, actually. I just don’t like this constant interruption with work.”

Peter looked at me, his expression serious. Finally he spoke. “She loves you.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t express myself correctly. Amelia’s in love with you. You better not hurt her, Mike.”

“How the Hell would you know that?” I asked forcefully.

He smiled. “We talk all the time.”

“You do? When?”

Peter chuckled. “When I take her shopping. Do you think those clothes she has just magically appear?”

I was flabbergasted. “When?” I thought I knew every minute of her days.

Peter laughed at me. “When you work, you’re oblivious to everything. Amelia calls me and I take her shopping. She’s back before you ever emerge from your study. She’s a real clothes horse,” he added.

Thinking about it, I saw Amelia in different outfits, a constantly changing appearance. Why hadn’t I noticed before?

“How much money have you spent on her?” I asked, thinking I’d reimburse him.

“Nothing, except for parking and gas,” Peter responded with a laugh. “She buys her own clothes.”

“With what?”

“Well, money is the coin of the realm.”

“What money?” I asked, increasingly confused.

“Mike, money is kept in a bank account. When needed, it’s withdrawn...”

“Shut up. I’ve never taken her to a bank.”

Peter sighed deeply. “Amelia pays with her iPhone.”

“Huh?”

Peter grinned broadly. “Mike, you’re the most technologically challenged person on the planet. There’s more to computers than that Mac you use for video editing at home.” His grin expanded into his eyes. “Amelia transfers funds to her iWallet and pays with her iPhone.”

“You can do that?” I remembered her trust fund, an annual allowance transferred every month. That must be it. Then Peter’s earlier comment hit me like a ton of bricks. “She talks to you about me?”

Peter nodded. “Who am I to judge if she’s attracted to an older man? I’m gay. It’s nature, weird but nature.”

“But you don’t prance around or...”

“Act gay?” Peter finished.

“Sorry. I don’t care one way or the other. You know that. You’re entitled to your private life.”

“As are you. I’m just saying, Amelia deserves the best, so be the best.”

Relaxing, I smiled. “Did she tell you about her song?”

“What song?”

I shoved the Smartphone across the table. “You should watch it.”

Peter’s eyes opened wide. “You videotaped it? You? How did you figure it out?” He grinned at me.

“Smartass. Watch it.”

He picked up the cell, thumb swiping and tapping. Familiar music started. Her voice rose.

One minute later, Peter whispered, “Ho-lee-shit.” Amelia’s voice, even tinny, sent shivers up my spine. The video ended. Peter looked at me, his eyes moist. “Holy shit, Mike!”

“I know.”

“Email the video to me.” He noticed my expression and laughed. “You don’t know how, do you?”

“Just take the frigging phone.”

An hour later Amelia hugged me, releasing much of my stress. “I missed you,” she informed me.

“Get ready to go out,” I suggested after inhaling her scent.

“Where are we going?”

“You and that unruly dog are going to advanced obedience class.”

“Kay!” she said brightly. “Rufus!”

Rufus, no longer a puppy, came barreling around the corner, all fifty-five pounds of him banging into my legs as he skidded to a stop, his tail wagging like crazy. I ruffled his head. More of my stress melted away. Dogs are such special beings, capable of endless love and affection, never demanding, a source of amusement, and, ultimately, a faithful companion unlike any other. I was sure all dogs must go to Heaven. How could such pure love and devotion go anywhere else?

Perhaps it was Rufus’ operation. Perhaps Amelia was maturing in leaps and bounds. But, over the next four weeks, she and Rufus became a team. Rufus paid devoted attention to her every move, look, and command, joyous when rewarded with her affection. I knew how he felt. Amelia grew as well, finding confidence in her ability to communicate with Rufus. When she’d congratulate him, she’d sing to him, a song of love and admiration. I wasn’t jealous ... not really.

Our relationship blossomed. Amelia stopped blushing at intimacy, only blushing when she’d suggest something new. And she did, much to my pleasure.