come in on the second verse."

"Dad, I couldn't."

"Of course you could. You know the lyrics, the melody."

"Yes, but-"

"It's perfect. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. This song

needs a feminine touch. Keep it light, just a little sad."

"No use arguing," Johnno said as he fit the headphones over her ears.

"He's on a roll."

Emma let out a sigh. It wouldn't hurt to humor him. "What's my

percentage? Do I get a mention in the liner notes? What about artistic

control?"

Brian twisted her nose, hard.

It was enough to see him happy, she thought. There was nothing like a

new idea to send her father off. He was calling out instructions,

deferring to Johnno now and again, keeping what seemed like an eagle eye

on Stevie, and subtly staying aloof from P.M.

She heard the music in her head, the sad and moody strings and flutes.

It was a full, almost cla.s.sical sound. Like rain, she realized-not a

storm, but a gray, unrelenting rain.

Her father's voice flowed into her ears, clear and somehow sweet despite

the melancholy lyrics.

"I looked for your face I called your name / You were the light But

shadows covered me I lost the sun."

She listened, struck as she had always been by the close, almost eerie

harmony he achieved with Johnno. Her father's voice soared up, hanging

on notes, caressing them. The sad, hopeless lyrics went straight to her

heart.

Why it's Bev, she realized all at once. He was singing about Bev. To

Bev. Emma's eyes widened as her gaze fixed on Brian. Why hadn't she

seen it before? Why hadn't she understood?

He was still in love. Not resentful or angry, but miserably in love.

She didn't think, but only felt, as she did what he had asked and added

her voice to his, She didn't realize that Johnno had backed off, leaving

her and her

father alone. It wasn't a planned gesture when she reached out to take

his hand. She wasn't aware that tears had spilled over to cling to her

lashes. Her voice melded with his as her heart did.

"My life is shadows without you / Without you / Dreaming of the light I

wake to darkness / I lost the sun."

As the music swelled and faded, she lifted his hand to her cheek. "I

love you, Dad."

He brushed his lips over hers, fighting the need to let his own tears

go. "Let's hear the playback," he called out.

It was nearly one before the session musicians began to file out. The

best part of another hour pa.s.sed before Brian was satisfied with the

overdubbing. Emma watched her father pour a tumbler full of Chivas

Regal and drink it like water over a technical discussion with an

engineer. She didn't want to be upset by it, not now, not when she was

beginning to understand some of his pain. But neither could she sit

calmly and watch while he doused that pain with whiskey.