“People! People.”

Jen turned toward the speaker and listened. “We’ve got an almost sold-out house. Our reputation is growing.”

“Or we’ve coerced more family and friends to buy tickets!” joked one of the singers.

Jen chuckled along with the rest. Sure, family and friends would attend, but also music lovers and supporters of community talent. She loved being part of this volunteer chorus. It seemed to round out her family time and career interests.

And it added to her social life. Girlfriends. Guy friends. Her days were full.

Busy. No lonely moments. She made sure of that.

“Good morning, Henny-Penny.”

She froze for a moment, and her heart raced. Keep your cool, Jen.

Pivoting slowly, she finally nodded. “Good morning, ramblin’ man.”

He winced. “Five years in New York. Hardly rambling.”

“Depends on your outlook, I guess. Sorry, I’ve got to get inside and on stage with the others.”

“How’s Lisa doing?”

“Excuse me?” Her thoughts whirled. Nothing about the birth was in the papers today. She’d checked before leaving her apartment. Boston loved their QB, and Mike’s life was public—most of the time.

“Deduction...and a hunch. I heard your directions to the driver last night.

Brigham and Women’s. And you were speaking with Mike.” He shrugged.

“Lisa’s doing just fine.” And that’s all she’d give him.

His expression softened. “I’m glad, Jen. Very glad.”

That gentle voice, so warm and caring, reminded her of the man she used to know. Her heart ached for a moment, but she avoided his glance.

He held the heavy door open, and she walked through, feeling his eyes track her progress to the front of the theater. She joined the mezzo-sopranos on stage, all the while fighting the urge to turn around. When she couldn’t postpone it a moment longer, her glance darted to the door in the back.

Gone. He was gone. She sensed her relief, then her disappointment. Now that was something she needed to figure out.

Lowering her gaze when she detected movement, she saw Doug settling into an aisle seat as though he had all the time in the world. What had happened to the apartment search? His work with the new play? Where were his actors? Time was money. Not that she knew where his funding came from, but still…he seemed to be wasting both time and money.

Not her business. She focused on the choral conductor and put Doug out of her mind, where he belonged.

Four-part harmonies, solos, duets— the group had worked on a variety of ways to represent the Great American Songbook, the most enduring songs from the 1920’s through the 1950’s. Jen’s mouth often trembled at the memories this music called up. In her mind’s eye were pictures of herself singing with her mom, dad and Lisa as they cleaned up the kitchen after dinner every night. Each one could carry a mighty tune, each voice blending with the others. “Just like the Von Trapp family,” her dad would offer with a grin. His eyes twinkled and his smile never faltered as the family made short work of the cleanup. A happy man.

And then…she shuddered…only the five kids remained.

Jen blinked and willed herself back to the present. Memories could still bite. She viewed the music binder in front of her, paid attention to the conductor, and

allowed herself to become immersed in the practice. A full rehearsal.

Corrections. Improvements. More than a hundred voices strong accompanied by a piano and small chamber group of instruments. Her jazz solo came just before intermission. Summertime from Porgy and Bess. By the time she took the mic, she was ready. She eyed the conductor, listened for the musical intro.

Her smoky voice gave sympathetic quality to the words, while the backup chorus added a spiritual mood. Like Emily, she could have been alone as she got lost in the music, in the emotional depth of the song and the atmosphere it evoked.

Silence followed her last note. Silence before the congrats and spontaneous applause. She was jerked from her inner world, saw and heard the approval from her peers. She’d put herself into it and knew she wouldn’t be able to sing better on performance night.

Her gaze traveled to the back of the auditorium. Doug’s seat was empty, but the door behind him was swinging shut. Perhaps his reappearance had sparked memories she’d carefully packed away.

His presence was getting to her. She had to admit that truth. They’d been happy together for four years. Maturing, sharing…trusting. So sweet and good. Could she have acted too hastily? She didn’t know. But that was then. What she did know was that she needed to move on with her life, a full life, but a life she could control.

Chapter 3

He was late. Only Jen could have made him lose track of time, place and purpose. It wasn’t just her voice, it was the whole package. The girl he remembered had evolved into a woman. A woman who didn’t want any part of him now.

He made his way to the management office of the theater, secured keys to the building’s side door and workshop rooms he and the cast would be using, and took the stairs to the third floor. A large conference room would be fine for the initial readings. He’d meet the regional theater’s creative team — producer and director — in person the next day, and auditions would begin the day after. The call had gone out, and he had a solid list of local actors to consider.

Staging a play was a cooperative venture. The most important part to Doug, however, was the play itself. The writing always was. With two successful works behind him in New York—and he still marveled at his luck— he’d now begin the intense challenge of bringing a new story to life. He couldn’t be happier…

professionally.

He rearranged chairs, checked electrical outlets and touched base with his director and producer. They sounded as excited as Doug. After depositing a load of pads and pens on the table, he made his way downstairs, pausing to peek into the auditorium. Jen’s rehearsal was still going strong. He headed to the exit door, and almost bumped into a young woman with a little boy.

“Whoa. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Come on, Bobby.” She shifted the case she carried and took the child’s hand.

Doug looked again. A violin case. He studied the girl. “Emily? Is that you, all grown up?”

Her brows came together, a frown appeared as she studied him. And slowly, her forehead cleared. “Oh, I recognize you. Jen’s boyfriend from long ago.”

Long ago. Well, in a young girl’s life, five years would be a long time. “Doug Collins.” He held out his hand. “You were such a little thing when I first met you. Maybe about nine years old.” He felt himself pause. The child had had real problems. “How are you doing?”

Her slow smile reassured him. “Fine, but I’m running late. I hope Jen’s rehearsal is over before mine begins. Hey! Does she know you’re here?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw her last night, as a matter of fact.”

“Really?” She turned away. “Well, I’ve gotta go now. C’mon, little man.”

But the “little man” had thrown his nerf football down the hall and was diving in for a….

“Touchdown! Auntie Emmy, Auntie Emmy! See?”

“Oh, I see all right. Let’s go find your Auntie Jen.”

The boy took Emily’s hand without a fuss, and Doug watched them enter the auditorium. His appointment with a Realtor was coming up, but mumbling “just five minutes,” he followed them.

##