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Zoey walked through her childhood home, surrounded by her friends and loved ones. A chorus of Heart Songs enveloped her senses. She shrugged off her coat and found Mo in the kitchen pouring glasses of wine for everyone nearby. His melodic voice filled the room.
Oo I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck
With a pink carnation and a pickup truck
But I knew I was out of luck
The day the music died
They started singing
As everyone joined in for the chorus, Zoey gave Mo’s hand a squeeze, a silent “thank you”. She moved into the living room where pictures of her dad were playing on the television screen.
I started singin', bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "This'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die
Then one voice rose above the rest and Zoey knew instantly who it belonged to - Joan. She stepped into the small arboretum off the living room and found her visiting with Simon.
Now, for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rollin' stone
Joan reached for Zoey the second she laid eyes on her.
But that's not how it used to be
Zoey was met with warm hands and empathetic blue eyes.
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
Joan turned to Maggie and took her hand, wrapping it in her own. They shared a soft, knowing smile and Joan turned back to Zoey.
And a voice that came from you and me
She wrapped her arm around Zoey, tucking her against her side and leading her back to the living room. Max met them at the doorway and handed Zoey a drink.
Oh, and while the king was looking down
The jester stole his thorny crown
Taking that as her cue, Joan gave Zoey’s arm a light squeeze and continued through the living room, bidding a soft farewell to everyone as she went.
The courtroom was adjourned
No verdict was returned
Someone else picked up the melody and Zoey looked away from Max to see Joan disappear into the foyer.
And while Lenin read a book on Marx
A quartet practiced in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died
Her feet carried her to the front door faster than she knew possible. The music continued around them as Zoey blocked the doorway, preventing Joan from leaving. Joan tilted her head curiously at Zoey as the chorus hit and her voice joined in with the others.
We were singin', bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "This'll be the day that I die
This'll be the day that I die"
Zoey took three steps forward and buried herself against Joan. She wrapped her arms around her and pressed her cheek to Joan’s chest.
Strong arms encircled her and for a moment, everything else fell away. The music slowed, the voices quieted, all she could hear was the steady thrumming of Joan’s heartbeat in her ear.
She drew in a shaky breath and felt tears start to sting at her eyes. “Don’t go.”
The music picked back up and time seemed to move in a blur. Zoey couldn’t tell if it really was, or if it was the tears now falling from her eyes that made everything so bleary.
She heard Mo’s voice again, and in an instant, it seemed as though everyone was gone.
Everyone, except for Joan. Who was still holding her close, occasionally rubbing small circles on her back or resting her hand on Zoey’s head to her chest, as though she was blocking out the rest of the world.
When the song finally ended Zoey opened her eyes to see her family in the living room, her mom and brother on the couch, her sister-in-law in the chair nearby. She lifted her head from Joan’s chest and met her eyes. Neither of them said anything for a moment. Tears continued to slide down Zoey’s cheeks, and Joan didn’t try to brush them away. She just held Zoey tighter.
“Stay.” The word was barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Joan to hear.
“Okay.”
Zoey threaded her fingers with Joan’s and finished the last verse of the song.
And they were singin', bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
She turned toward the living room and pulled Joan along behind her.
And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
The day the music died