Throw Him My Way

Bobby, despite his rather languid looks, was dependable and had a good head for numbers. He had already crunched a few, and they could expand their budding dog-walking business into something more.

Heidi was considering it quite seriously. There was something about falling in love with a man in a coma that made you take life seriously, and take every chance you got.

Because she knew that if she’d started falling in love with Christian when he helped her, even when he didn’t have to, she had finished that slow slide into love when she told him everything about her as he lay there, hooked up to machines, and somehow so vulnerable and strong at the same time.

She had fallen in love with that family that had accepted her into their hearts, and was already, she was sure, planning their wedding for when Christian woke up.

He was in for the shock of his life when he did wake up, though. He’d find their lives all mapped out together by the aunts and his mother, all of whom adored him so much that they needed that little extra hope to keep themselves from falling apart.

Maybe it was odd.

But maybe that was the only way Heidi could ever have opened her heart as much as she had.

Having a hard life made you reluctant to fall in love. You might play at love. But falling, hard, for somebody – that was a risk, and when your life was one big risk, adding more made no sense.

But Christian hadn’t had to do anything to make her take that risk. He had just had to be, and she hadn’t been able to help himself.

She hadn’t wanted to.

Heidi hadn’t been looking for love. But it was just like her to find it in a man to whom she could say everything.

Though she hadn’t told him that she loved him. Even if she could.

Heidi thought it would be a bit anti-climactic to do that before he woke up, though.

“Hit the circuit, Heidi. The Spinettes loved you, and they want you. They want you to open for them for their next tour. It will be a month, about twelve cities. It’ll be hard work. Think you can handle it?”

“It’s not a matter of handling hard work, Dale. I need to be able to take off, too. Then there are the details, like money. I’ll have to quit my day job if I’m to do this. And then…”

She trailed off.

Then there was Christian, who was still in a coma, to whom she sang every day.

There hadn’t been a single day she hadn’t gone and seen him. On good days, she spent an hour with him. But there hadn’t been a single day when she hadn’t, at the very least, popped in and talked to him for a few minutes.

She wouldn’t see him for a month.

Maybe it was silly. It wasn’t like he saw her.

But she knew – she just knew – that he did hear her. That being there did make a difference. It didn’t matter if there was no proof of it.

She wanted to be there when he woke up, because she knew that there was a part of him that knew her, better and more completely than anybody ever had before.

“It’s a hell of an opportunity, Heidi. You don’t have to worry about paying the bills. This will pay better than the gig you did when you opened for them. They really like you, Heidi. They’ve made it very clear that you’re their first choice. You should consider getting an agent soon. The Spinettes are about to sign a contract that will knock your shoes off. There will be a lot of publicity for this tour. You’ll get some of the glory, especially if you knock it out of the park like you did for them earlier.”

Heidi’s instinct was to say yes. It was to scream the word and ask where she had to sign.

But she didn’t.

“When do I have to make up my mind?”

“You have three days to figure it out. They leave in ten days, and you’ll have to leave with them. Three days, Heidi. It’s not the kind of thing that comes along every day. I’d strongly suggest taking this. And get a lawyer or a friend who’ll read the contract well for you. I wouldn’t trust their manager very much, if I were you.”

“I’ll call you. Dale, thank you. This is all thanks to you.”

“No, Heidi. This is down to you and your pipes, and that magic you have with your guitar. You’ll do fine. But don’t let this go. It might not come again.”

“I’ll call you,” said Heidi, again, and put the phone down, slowly.

She should go, of course.

She should.