All She Ever Wanted

Melissa Fleming stood in her kitchen, taking a break from the medical transcription work she did out of her apartment. The air conditioner was just barely beating off the muggy July heat of southern Iowa. She'd poured herself a cup of coffee, turned on the radio which was tuned to one of her favorite Country stations, and was delighted to hear the beginning of one of her favorite new songs.

You said your heart was on the mend
and though you liked me as a friend
love had always been untrue.
But I had Other Plans for you.

"That's 'Other Plans', the latest single from Trevor Trent, which is rapidly climbing the charts," the voice of Howdy Hayes, the DJ, broke in over the music. "And Trevor is here with me in the studio today. Hi Trevor."

"Great to be here, Howdy," Trevor's rich voice flowed like warm honey.

"And also with me is Cedar City's own Daniel Burnham, who, as many of you know, wrote the song. Hi Daniel."

"Hi," a quiet voice replied.

"Oh, wow, I didn't know that," Melissa said to PC's furry back as he crouched over his food dish. "I've probably seen him in the grocery store or at the Post Office and didn't even know it." PC's tail twitched in response.

"So tell me, Trevor," Howdy's voice continued, "how did you happen to find this song? Looks like it was a good choice."

"Yeah, it's taken off like a rocket. It might hit number one by this weekend, the way it's moving." Trevor paused for a second. "Well, a friend of mine in Nashville gave me Daniel's CD and told me I had to hear these songs. She was right. Daniel's a great writer." There was another pause.

"Thanks," said a barely audible voice.

"There are two more of Daniel's songs on my latest CD. I think they're both as good, if not better than..."

"So Daniel, tell me," Howdy interrupted, "what was the inspiration for Other Plans?"

"My wife," Daniel's soft voice stated. "I wrote the song before we were married."

"Before she died so tragically?" Howdy interposed.

A strangled sound came through the radio.

"Ohh," Melissa gasped as if she'd been struck in the solar plexus.

"For those of you who don't know," Howdy droned on, "Cathy, Daniel's wife, was struck and killed by a car here in Cedar City about five months ago. Dan?" Howdy's voice took on a note of consternation.

Melissa remembered the story now. It had been prominently covered in the Cedar City Times. Cathy Burnham had dropped an earring in the street and when she'd bent down to retrieve it a car had come around the corner and hit her. It was later determined that the driver had been drinking. Cathy's father, a well-known local attorney, was currently seeking to ensure that the man got the maximum sentence.

"He's gone," Trevor said. "That was uncalled for, Howdy. I don't know him very well but from what I've seen that's one torn up human being."

"I can't help it if life is tough," Howdy remonstrated defensively. "It's true and most people know about it anyway."

"You didn't have to throw it in his face," Trevor replied edgily. There was a moment of silence. "Okay, okay, that's not what we're here for. I apologize for jumping on you."

The interview continued for several more minutes and ended with a pitch for Trevor's concert at the Krenshaw Pavilion.

Melissa turned off the radio and went back to work feeling stunned. As she typed she found her thoughts returning again and again to Daniel Burnham and the death of his wife. She had loved his song 'Other Plans' before she even knew anything about him but now the poignancy of the lyric was almost heartbreaking. She sang the words softly to herself.

I said, "Alright, I understand
that you won't love me on command;
I'll do what you want me to
but I have Other Plans for you."

I took my time and played my part
till my love had healed your heart
and then one day you were so amazed
when loved broke down the walls you'd raised;
you never knew they were so thin
till love came flooding in.

She laughed shakily when she discovered that her eyes had filled with tears. "Oh you poor man. You poor poor man," she sighed. PC, who'd followed her into the office and was now perched on top the monitor, flipped his tail in sympathy.

She didn't get as much work done as she'd hoped to that afternoon. Gusts of restless energy lifted her from her seat and caused her to pace through the apartment again and again. She felt a kinship with Daniel and her heart responded empathetically to the pain she imagined him feeling.

DANIEL SAT ON the patio of the house he'd inherited from his grandmother. This was the only place he'd found where he could get any relief. He gazed at the two large maple trees that stood in the far corners of the backyard. Losing himself in the soothing movement of the leaves as a breeze skipped through them; listening to the soft murmur.

He'd been holding her hand when suddenly she pulled away, saying something he didn't catch. He'd turned to watch her walk into the street as she searched for something. She'd bent down, reaching out, and then there was a car moving towards her. She'd turned. The sound. He'd never forget the sound of impact.

He wasn't even aware that he was gripping the arms of the chair with all his strength, that his jaw was clenched. He stared into the leaves, trying to lose himself again. Slowly the memories faded and he relaxed. He stared as if catatonic. Somewhere in the back of his mind, dimly, the images of the radio interview slid by but they really weren't important. He was listening to the rustling of the leaves.

"Hey buddy," a voice said.

Daniel convulsed and jerked around. His friend James Russell was standing a few feet away. He wore a very worried expression.

"Sorry Dan, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Jesus, Jimmy. I didn't hear you come up." Daniel took a couple of deep
breaths. "Sit down."

James took a seat in a nearby chair. "I heard the interview today," he said.

"Yeah, well, what there was of it," Daniel replied, rubbing his forehead. "I realized the second I walked into the station that I'd made a mistake. I never did like Howdy Hayes. Not very professional of me."

"Trevor Trent gave him a kick in the butt."

"I like Trevor."

They chatted for awhile and then James divulged the reason for his visit. "Dan, I need help at the club. Things have been kind of slow and I'd really appreciate it if you'd come in on Friday nights and play a set. Draw people in."

Daniel looked at him with a skeptical grimace. "Since when am I a big draw?"

"Since you got a song recorded by Trevor Trent. One that's now on its way to number one," James said. "Come on, how often do I ask you for a favor?"

"Not very often," Daniel conceded. "I owe you."

"So how about it."

"When?"

"I'd like you to start the second Friday in August and continue indefinitely."

"Are you going to pay me?" He knew from experience that it was useless to argue with James once he set his mind on something. So he might as well give in. What he wanted more than anything was just to be left alone.

"Of course," James said with a smile. He'd thought Daniel would be harder to convince. He rose to his feet and Daniel did too. They shook hands. "Are you going to Trevor Trent's concert on Saturday?"

"I don't know," Daniel said. "Probably not. Being around people wears me out. And I've got to build up my strength for playing at your club."

James was delighted to see a glimmer of Daniel's old sense of humor. He was beginning to think that his friend just might survive.

After James left Daniel returned to his chair and looked into the maple trees.

IN THE EVENING, after Melissa had eaten, she called her best friend Cynthia Liguori and chatted about the events of the day. Later, having suggested to Cynthia that they go, she went online to order tickets for the Trevor Trent concert on Saturday. She also used the search engine Gogol to ferret out all references to Daniel Burnham. There was enough information to warrant creating a folder and begin filling it with choice items. On one site she uncovered an email address. And on another she was able to hear a part of each of the songs on Daniel's CD. She really liked what she heard and ordered a copy.

When she woke up the next morning the seed of an idea was pushing green tendrils into the light: she would send Daniel an email. Throughout the day, as she worked, she stopped to jot down thoughts and phrases that seemed appropriate. By the end of the evening she'd completed the letter. Now all she needed was to find the courage to click on the "send" key. She wasn't quite ready.

The next day, Friday, passed quickly. After two days of turmoil she was finally able to focus on work. That afternoon she stopped by the hospital to pick up her paycheck and discuss a couple of work related problems with her supervisor. When she got home she fixed herself dinner and pulled up her email to Daniel on her personal computer. She changed a few things but decided, overall, that it said what she wanted to say. She still didn't have the courage to send it on its way.

At two o'clock on Saturday she drove to Cynthia's house. Walter, Cynthia's husband, had agreed to watch Anna and Walter, Jr., their two children, so the two women could spend the afternoon and evening together.

Cynthia and Walter lived in one of the older areas of Cedar City. The streets were wide and large stately old trees lined both sides. The two-story houses, set on extensive lots, basked in a sense of permanence and peace.

"Come in Melissa," Walter said, as he opened the door. "Cyn will be down in a minute." He was a short man, somewhat chubby, with only a wispy fringe of salt and pepper hair. He exuded a quiet calm and his dark eyes were warm.

"Hi Mel," Cynthia trilled as she tripped down the stairs. "Be ready in a second." In contrast to her husband she was quick and vivacious. She trotted through the kitchen and out onto the wooden deck. Melissa could hear her speaking firmly to her two children. Walter and Melissa smiled vaguely at one another. Then Cynthia was back.

"Thank you, Baby, for watching the kids," she said, holding his face in her two hands and bending down slightly to give him a deep kiss. His hands grasped her waist.

"You two have fun," he responded, panting a little, after she'd stepped back to gather her purse from the coffee table.

It was always a little painful for Melissa to see them together. They were so different but fit together so well. And their obvious sense of companionship made her feel lonely.

"Come on Mel," Cynthia sang, "it's time for us to paint the town."

As they made their way to the University Mall in Melissa's little car Melissa told her friend everything she'd found out about Daniel Burnham and about the email she'd written. Cynthia listened with interest and asked questions but Melissa could tell she was a little uncomfortable.

Once they'd arrived at the mall, parked, and pushed through the heavy heat into the coolness inside the conversation had moved on to other things. They spent the afternoon chatting and laughing as they shopped. An hour or so before the concert they had dinner at a restaurant next to UICC and then, when it was time, walked across the campus to the Krenshaw Pavilion. The air, now the sun had gone down, was cooler and a light breeze had sprung up. Presenting their tickets they entered the pavilion and found their seats.

The opening band performed a four song set which, both women agreed, was good but not great, and then decamped to make way for the main attraction. Once the members of his band were in place and the MC had introduced him Trevor Trent strode onto the stage, slipped his guitar strap over his shoulder, and stepped grinning up to the microphone. From that moment he had the audience in the palm of his hand and he never let go. He was a tall man with a teddy bear softness, sexy in a good natured way, and a complete entertainer who was willing to do what was necessary to put a song across.

Melissa enjoyed the show but squirmed with impatience each time it became clear that the song was not "Other Plans". Finally the moment she'd been waiting for arrived.

"This is a song by one of ya'll's neighbors, Daniel Burnham...." Trevor announced. The crowd responded enthusiastically with clapping and a few yells. Melissa craned her neck trying to pinpoint someone looking like a songwriter near the stage. "I'm delighted to be able to tell you that it's now the number one record in the country." The crowd redoubled its efforts. Without another word Trevor launched into "Other Plans". Melissa felt a sharp stab of disappointment, realizing that her primary reason for attending the concert was to catch her first glimpse of Daniel Burnham.

Following "Other Plans" Trevor played the two other songs of Daniel's that he'd recorded. Melissa liked them but neither grabbed her the way that "Other Plans" had. After that her concentration waned. By the end of the concert she was more than ready to go home.

"I had a great time, as usual," Cynthia said as she climbed out of the car after it had come to a stop in front of her house. Melissa popped the trunk lid and Cynthia gathered her purchases. "Daniel really is a very talented man," she added, coming around to the driver's side and seeing that Melissa had rolled down her window. "So's Trevor Trent. Thank you for inviting me."

"I was hoping to see him," Melissa said.

"I know you were," her friend replied. In the dim light from the porch Melissa could see the tenseness in Cynthia's face.

"What?" She said.

"Oh Mel, I'm afraid this is another one of your impossible quests. I hate to see you get hurt." This was an old issue between them. More times than she cared to recall she'd seen her friend seek out men who were emotionally distant and then spiral into anguish and depression when, after a few glittering moments of intimacy, they pulled away. It had been almost two years since the last one and she'd hoped that Melissa had gotten past whatever it was that drew her into these relationships. But this had all the signs of being one more run down a well-beaten track.

"I haven't even met the guy," Melissa said defensively. "But it breaks my heart that he can't even enjoy having a number one song. He should have been there."

"Maybe he was and he just didn't want to go on stage."

"I don't think so," Melissa said. "I think I would have known if he was."

Cynthia had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. She looked at her friend with a sigh. And mentally prepared herself for another stint of tears and hand holding. "Well, anyway, I enjoyed the concert, and our day of shopping. I'll talk with you soon," she said, turning towards the door.

"Goodnight," Melissa called after her. She waited until Cynthia was inside before driving away.

She couldn't get Daniel out of her head. She imagined him alone somewhere too tangled up in his own pain to enjoy his triumph. It almost felt good to feel so sad for him. It sure felt better than trying to make sense of her own sadness and turmoil.

When she got home PC came stalking out to greet her, tail in the air. She had the impression that he was scolding her for staying out so late. She grinned at him. The moment she sat down to turn on her computer he jumped in her lap. She stroked him as she got online and opened her email program. He purred as she deleted a bunch of spam messages. Nothing good. She pulled up her email to Daniel. She looked at it for several long minutes. Then, with a huge sigh, she pressed "send". It was gone. PC looked at her and flicked his tail.

Later, as she lay in bed, she heard Trevor Trent singing "Other Plans" in her head. She remembered what he'd looked like on stage. As she recollected the last verse she thought of Daniel.

And when that night you touched my arm
I thought it was a false alarm;
then you smiled and I could see
you had Other Plans for me.

Would that happen? She wondered. With anyone? Ever? Tears filled her eyes. She felt so lonely. She realized that what touched her so deeply about Daniel's song was the idea of a healing love. Someone caring enough to do what was needed. God knew she needed healing. And she knew Daniel did as well. "Oh Daniel," she whispered into the dark, "I have other plans for you." PC let out a small squeak.