Nash.
“Nash Bennett singing three of my songs will get me noticed,” she continued. “That should help me this time around.”
That was something positive from all this, right? Guess she would find out.
“You should go,” Grams said.
“Where?”
“Nashville.”
Ivy bolted upright. The damp rag fell onto her lap. “But—”
“Nash may be an idiot, but he opened a door for you and your music. Maybe more than one. You don’t need him or anyone else to make your dreams come true.Youcan do it yourself. We all believe in you. It’s time you believe in yourself. Go to Nashville. That was what you wanted to do once.”
“What if it’s too late for me?”
Grams sat next to Ivy and smoothed her hair. “It’s never too late to chase your dreams.”
Ivy wanted to believe her.
“Did your parents ever tell you why they added live music at the pub?” Grams asked.
“Mom said it was to bring in more business on the weekends so they could compete with the bars.”
“That was one reason, but there was another.” A wistful smile formed on her grandmother’s face. “Your dad loved music. It was part of his soul, the way it is yours. Having live shows at the pub kept his passion alive.”
When Ivy thought about it, that made sense. “I never made that connection.”
“It’s not something your dad shared with many people.” Grams opened her purse and pulled out a notebook, one that had seen better days. “In high school, he wrote music and poems. Maybe they were one in the same to him, but he dreamed of making it big someday. Well, until he met your mom, and then a new dream took hold. One that involved her, the pub, your brothers, sister, and you.”
Ivy’s lips parted. “I didn’t know.”
“I’m not sure how much your mom knows, but years ago, I asked your dad if he had any regrets for setting aside his music dreams.”
“What did he say?”
“No regrets because everything he needed and wanted was in Quinn Valley. But you’re not your father. Your path isn’t the same as his. This town—and all of us—have been holding you back. It’s comfortable and safe, but it’s not where you belong, Ivy Quinn.”
She sniffled. “I thought I belonged with Nash.”
“Oh, baby.” Grams hugged her. “It might feel like the end of the world, but someday you’ll look back and it won’t hurt as much or at all.”
“I wish that day was today.”
“So do I.” Grams let go and placed the notebook in Ivy’s hands. “Your dad would have wanted you to have this. I would have given it to you a long time ago, but I lost it. Finally found it in a bin tucked away in a closet when I was searching for something your grandfather wanted. I was saving it for your birthday gift, but you need to have this now.”
“Thank you.” Ivy wrapped her fingers around the notebook, careful not to bend the cover. As she paged through the yellowed pages, she glimpsed poems and lyrics. Some short, others long. All written in blue ink. On the last page with any writing, there was only a date and a title: “Summer Serenade.”
She glanced at her grandmother and pointed to the date. “Why does it stop then?”
Grams squinted to read it. “That’s around the time your dad met your mom. Maybe he planned to come back to the song or poem but never did. I’m not surprised, given how hard and fast he fell for Marcia.”
Her father had understood Ivy’s passion for music unlike anyone else in the family. Now she knew why. “Thanks, Grams. I’ll treasure this always.”
“I know you will.” Her grandmother covered Ivy’s hand with her own. “Dreams change, but if yours hasn’t and you want a music career, go for it. The last thing you want is to have to live with regrets.”
That was great advice. Though putting it into action might not be so easy. “I wish I hadn’t auditioned for that reality show.”
