Grease popped out of the pan and into my skin. I stepped back and inhaled the smell of freshly cooked bacon. It was only a matter of time before it was embedded in all of our clothes. The smell always reminded me of my family. Sunday mornings, before the restaurant took over our lives, we'd find our parents in the kitchen. They'd play Earth, Wind & Fire as they cooked us breakfast. When Zacari and Shae joined them in their two-step, my father would cackle, "What y'all know about that?"
I never thought I'd miss those days.
When I finished the last batch of bacon, my job was almost complete. Running to the windows, I threw back the curtain. The sun shined into the suite. It cascaded over the carpet and reached the outskirts of Wren's bed.
Taking his phone was a great idea. He slept right through his alarm. After practically threatening Uncle Ronnie with Wren's life, he finally agreed to give him a proper day off. Wren definitely needed one. I couldn't shake how defeated he looked yesterday. Today was his day. I had a surprise for him.
Placing the scrambled eggs on the tray, I peeked over at him. He grumbled as the sheets rustled. The sun must have woken him up.
"Morning!" I shouted. My voice bounced off the walls and rang in my ears.
I turned on my heels and his mop of hair sprung from the tangled sheets. He squinted against the sun before patting his hands over the bed. "Wh-where's my phone? What time is it?" he asked.
"It's eleven o'clock." I smiled. Now I understood why Wren always seemed happy when I slept in. He already looked better.
He hopped out of bed, but I forced him back in.
"Nora—" he huffed. I tucked him under the covers. "I have to go to the studio."
"I told Uncle Ronnie to give you the day off. I thought you needed a break." I shuffled back to the kitchen for his tray and placed it in his lap. Before he could protest, I shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.
"Is this because of yesterday?" he mumbled. "I told you I'm fine, Songbird. I can't miss a day of—"
"Sure you can. It's just one day, Wren. It'll help you with your music, too."
"I can't imagine breakfast in bed is going to help me much." His eyes danced over the spread. He picked up a piece of bacon, and it crumbled onto his shirt. As he took a bite, I drizzled syrup over the pancakes. If he was going to fight me on this, I needed food to sway him.
"No, not breakfast in bed," I shook my head. "I'm taking you somewhere. It's a surprise."
His eyes lit up. Of course, we'd have different reactions to the word 'surprise.' He looked like a little kid, the way he scarfed down his breakfast. He asked for a hint every five minutes. When we got into our Lyft, I was sure he would burst.
God, I hope it likes it.
As the driver came to a stop, Wren looked around the shopping mall strip. It was nearly empty and plenty of stores had gone out of business. I chose this place because out of all the programs; it seemed to be the most genuine. It looked just like the picture online.
"Cadence and Inflections?" Wren read the sign out front when we got out. "What is the place?"
I took his hand. Little kids bustled in and out of the doors, playing on the sidewalk. They painted the windows with black and white music notes, making it impossible to see inside.
"It's a music youth program," I said once we made it to the door. "I thought maybe you could mentor here some time. You know, when you're not busy."
Wren's dreams meant something to me, like mine meant something to him. It wasn't just about music for him. He wanted to help someone else. He wanted to experience what it was like being an older brother. There was no way I'd leave without giving him the opportunity.
"What?" he stuttered. "Nora, I can't—"
"Relax." I pushed open the door, and the bell chimed. "I convinced them to let you play a few songs. No mentoring today, unless you want to."
"Bu-but musical kids are like really hard to impress, and I didn't even prepare anything."
I stopped in my tracks. "Remember that one time you forced me to perform in front of an entire coffee shop without any notice."
His face turned red, and he let out a shallow laugh. "Hey, hang on. It wasn't like—"
"Trust me. You'll be fine."
The front desk area was small. It hid in a corner off to the side, giving more space to the stage...if you could call it that. It was thick, uneven pieces of wood slapped together, and pushed up against the back wall. The hard gray carpet was untouched, and I imagined the kids sitting in rows during Wren's performance.
At the front desk, a woman with wispy blonde hair and thin-rimmed glasses sat with her nose buried in her book. She hummed to herself and I cleared my throat.
"Oh, goodness me!" She jumped up, clamping the book shut. "Are you two volunteering today?"
"No, actually," I said. "He's your performer today."
At my announcement, an instructor pushed the kids back inside and the little energetic class scurried back to their classroom.
When it was quiet, the woman hopped from behind the desk and shouted, "Wren! You're Wren Wade! We thought you weren't going to show up." She shook his hand for dear life. "We don't get many guests."
She ran in a mini circle, picking up a pair of tiny shoes off the floor. "Oh, let me go get the children, or maybe I should set the stage up. I—"
I stepped into a line of commotion and asked, "How can we help?"
I didn't want to take Wren to a fancy music program. He didn't need that. He needed somewhere like this. A couple who couldn't have children started the program. When they passed, the kids who started here had all grown up. Instead of letting this place die with them, they kept it going. It wasn't in the best neighborhood, and the place needed a lot of work. But it was a bright spot for the community. They really cared about the kids.
Wren, me, and Deloris worked together to get the stage ready. When the instructors finally quieted the kids down enough to get them to the front, it was show time.
Their little heads bobbed and weaved, trying to get a view of Wren. It was quiet, and I stood in the back. From here, I noticed how Wren couldn't stop looking at his feet. Did he really feel that unprepared?
When the guitar was perfectly tuned, he looked up. "Uh...hi, my name's Wren and—uh, yes?" He pointed to a girl on the side, who raised her hand.
"Are you famous?" she asked.
"Um...no."
"Are you an influencer?"
"No."
"Does your dad own a gazillion dollar company?"
Wren looked to the side, then at me. I smiled, telling him to keep going. "No, I actually don't have a dad," he answered.
"You don't have a dad!" She raised her hands in the air.
"No, he, uh, he died when I was three."
The little redheaded boy at my feet snapped his head up. As he wiggled into my leg, he got a good look at Wren. He leaned in when an older boy asked, "So what? That makes him unqualified?"
Wren tilted his head. "...uh?"
"You said you don't have a dad, but you do. He's just not here," the boy corrected.
"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right." Wren looked down at his feet.
Dabbing sweat off her forehead, Deloris begged, "Children, quiet please. Mr. Wade doesn't have all day."
"Wade's not my real last name," Wren suddenly said. "It's actually my dad's name. He used to play guitar too. When I play shows and people chant my name, they're chanting his name too. It's almost like he's experiencing it with me. You know, since he's not never got the chance."
Deloris relaxed, leaning back into her seat. "That's very sweet of you to share with us, Wren."
He smiled, like a child does when they're praised by their parent. It was smart to bring him here. I didn't know that about his father. He didn't talk about him much. I should ask about him more.
Wren plucked the guitar strings. It was the song he sang to me in the cabin, the one he said gave him his first fan. He explained each song in his set. He only played three songs. The kids seemed to like the fast paced ones more. They cheered whenever he did a guitar solo and sang along when he taught them a chorus.
I looked around the room. Just by the sound of his voice, he captured everyone. Like I was. At the other end of the room stood a man I'd seen before. I could never forget his tattoos and goatee. His words of wisdom helped me find Wren. It was the reason we were here now. Was he following me?
"If it's alright, I'd like to sing one last song," Wren asked Deloris.
She nodded, clutching her hands together.
"I wrote it a few months ago. I met this girl. She was pretty lost when I met her. I mean, I guess we were both lost when we met each other." He looked back at me and a smile hinted at his lips. "Anyway, after meeting her, I wrote this song."
A little girl pulled onto my pants leg and whispered, "I think he's talking about you."
Wren cleared his throat, and I gave him my attention again. "People are gonna constantly tell you what you can and can't do. They'll put limits on you and make you feel like you don't deserve the things you want, but you can't listen to those people. Love yourself, and trust yourself enough to never let anyone put you in a box. It's not fair to you and it cages your potential. Never stop following your dreams." He looked over the small group of kids and then struck a chord. "This is Stronger."
He sampled the riff from Britney Spears's iconic single. In every line, he reclaimed his power. He wouldn't let his past define him or let anyone tell him he wasn't good enough. It was better than any love song he could have written about me. I inspired a love song he wrote for himself.
When he belted out the last note, we went wild. My shrill scream nearly took out the back row as a little girl clamped her hands over her ears. The kids jumped up and hounded him with questions. They tugged on his hair and poked his guitar. Even the older kids seemed to like him.
As he made his way back to me, Deloris broke up our hug. She pressed her hands into his cheeks. "You were lovely. The children were so engaged. I think you've been our favorite guest so far. You two can come back whenever you want."
"Actually, if it's alright, I'd love to stay and volunteer," Wren looked over at me and I nodded. I loved that he was interested in doing more.
"Perfect!" Deloris giggled. "You can assist in our next class."
I felt someone burrow into my back. The little redheaded boy hid behind me. As he looked up at Wren, I thought I'd break the ice and introduce them. But before I could, someone interrupted us.
It was the man from the airport. Still sporting his signature look, he shook Wren's hand. "Great performance, kid—"
"Holy shit!" Wren screamed. The room quieted as Deloris whacked him on the head. "Sorry—dude, I'm such a huge fan. It's so nice to meet you."
A huge fan? Did I miss something? He was a celebrity of some sort. I met a celebrity and didn't even know it. God, I need to get out more.
I'm sure my expression bore some confusion and Wren chuckled. "Nora, this is Cip. He's produced some amazing records. I—"
"You're a producer?" I pointed at him. "I thought you were following me."
"I volunteer here once a month, so it's you who's following me." Cip pointed back. "We met at the airport a week ago," he told Wren.
"What?" Wren swiveled back to me. "You didn't tell me you met Cip!"
I didn't know he was important to you.
Cip interjected. "Listen, that last song was amazing. I would love to produce it for you."
"No way," Wren beamed.
I looked for the little boy behind me, but he was gone. Searching the crowd, I found him a foot away. He stared up at Wren and Cip with a guitar in his hand. Hanging his head, he started walking outside.
"Wren." I pressed my hand into his shoulder. "That little boy over there has been trying to work up the nerve to talk to you, and he's about to give up."
Just before he made it to the front doors, Wren shouted, "Hey, Gibson! Nice guitar, man."
The little boy beamed in pride. With a bright smile, Wren offered all his attention. Kneeling in front of him, he patted his shaggy hair.
"That's Cody Skylar," Deloris said. "He's our newest addition. He lost his father a few months ago, and he's been having trouble at home. His mother put him in the program to hopefully help him cope."
Like magic. Sometimes all you have to do is ask for something and the universe will find a way to give it to you. They were exactly what each other needed. Cody looked up at Wren with his big, rounded eyes. He looked like he had just met his hero. Wren needed to be making music like this. It spoke to people of any age and the record label was going to rob him of that.
I hoped this encouraged him to take control over his future. The connections he would make because of his music were important. Even this little kid looked inspired just by four songs. Imagine what he could do with an entire album. I wish that stupid producer could see him now.
"Wren's been having a really hard time in the studio," I said, turning to Cip. "His producer's not very helpful and the record label's changing his sound. This is the first time I've seen him pick up a guitar in the last week."
Cip dragged his fork into his cake frosting and popped it into his mouth. "What you trying to say, kid?"
"I mean, I don't know how this works, but can't you just produce his entire album? People can do that, right? He clearly looks up to you. I mean, this is fate! What are the odds we'd meet you here?"
He wagged his finger, sitting his plate down. "I don't like stepping on other producers' toes."
"Right." That made sense. It's a business, after all. I'm sure it would look bad if he stole an artist from someone else. "Okay," I relented.
"Oh, come on, Michael," Deloris pulled on his arms, batting her eyelashes. "Look how much the kids loved him. You can do it, can't you?"
I gave him my best award-winning smile, batting my eyelashes too.
He chuckled. "The kid hasn't picked up a guitar in weeks. What kind of man would I be to let that happen?"
"So, you'll do it?" I squealed.
"Hey, Wren!" Cip called. "Your girlfriend's way too good at this."
It didn't take long for the news to travel the room. Wren said it was his dream to work with him. He wouldn't have had the balls to ask Cip to produce his record. Apparently, he was a big deal. Good thing I didn't know him like that, because I had no problem demanding he keep Wren's sound on the right path.
And after a long day of volunteering, Wren and I took a walk around town.
"He wants to bring the guys too," Wren said. "I get to make a record with my band. I get to make the music I've always dreamed of with the producer who changed my life." He pulled me in for a hug. "What can I do to thank you?"
"Thank me?" I swatted my hand in the air. "Please. I just brought you here. You did the rest."
He threw his head back and laughed. "It took me all summer to make your dreams come true, and you fulfilled two of mine in one day."
"So, you're going to mentor Cody?"
"I wouldn't go that far," he squirmed. "But I gave him my number. He can call me whenever he has a guitar question or needs advice." We stopped and took a seat on a bench. It had a perfect view of the sunset.
Wren sighed. "But he really misses his dad. He's eight. He can understand death better than I did when I lost my dad, but he's got a lot of questions. I don't know if I can help him in the way he needs." He sunk into his seat, rubbing his face with his hands. "I just don't want to fuck this up."
I pulled for his hands. "Just think about what you needed at that age. All the ways your loved ones treated you. How did it help you? How did it harm you?"
His face went pale, so I tried another way to encourage him. "I'm not going to lie and say it's easy. I don't know what it's like to lose a parent at a young age, but you can't prepare for something like that. Just because you know what it feels like, doesn't mean you'll always have the right answers. Part of being an older sibling is saying the wrong thing sometimes. You'll give horrible advice and do more damage than you intended, but what's important is that you're there and you never stop trying. He's not looking for you to be perfect. He just doesn't want to be alone."
"And that's all I wanted when I was a kid," he mumbled.
"And I hope you never feel alone again." Kissing the top of his hand, I whispered, "I love you."
"I love you back."
🌻Full playlist?
Just type in "Smelling Roses" in Spotify.
Author Note: This chapter has been rewritten a thousand times. After I thought I figured it out, my beta reader told me it was cliche and rushed, so I changed it. I thought really hard about what Wren's dream could be, and although this chapter isn't perfect, I do love it.