“A Different Tune” would have been a perfect fit for my book Truth Hurts. I remember finding the story after I had submitted the full manuscript to the publisher and the project was far along in production. What a nincompoop I was for messing that up. Ha! No matter. I’m very happy with how Truth Hurts turned out. And I still have pleasant memories of coming up with “A Different Tune” and writing it exactly as I imagined it. Inspiration hit me hard that day and put me to work. What fun I had.
When writing fiction I pretend I’m looking through a camera and filming the characters, the action, the scenery, etc—pulling into focus whatever catches the eye and ear and serves the story. “A Different Tune” gave me much to work with as regards visuals and dialogue. In fact, some years ago I had a passing conversation with someone in the business about adapting the story to film but the timing and circumstances weren’t right back then. Nevertheless “A Different Tune” is a story that I hope will be of interest to readers of all ages, providing substance, entertainment, and pleasure. Thank you for your time and attention, I’m grateful.
Happy reading!
Lacey Winters came down the stairs, her low heels clicking on the gleaming hardwood steps. This evening she pleaded with her mother to wear higher heels but her wish was strongly discouraged. Lacey’s radiant smile, the one her dad had had fixed with braces when Lacey was just a little girl, was now on brilliant display; her teeth were straight and white, damn near perfect—a smile that was bound to shatter one heart after another this summer. Her father, Larry, had that familiar look in his eyes, the look of silent approval of the little miracle he and his wife had created over seventeen years ago: a bright, humble child who had become a mature young lady at so early an age, a young lady with a promising future eagerly waiting to embrace her. Everybody—parents, teachers, neighbors, friends, the community as a whole—knew she was destined to achieve an excellence few in her class could ever dream of. With her natural good looks, intelligence, and charisma, she could do anything, be anything; she had the inherent ability to stay focused and poised no matter what adversity she confronted, a rarity among her peers.
When Lacey reached the bottom landing, she hugged her father, who flinched as he listened to the rumble of a car drawing closer to their house. The sound of the motor, hollow, sonorous, and authoritative, was more akin to a powerful engine than to that of a jalopy. Either way, as Terry Winters drew back one of the curtains with his thick, calloused fingers, he observed the car parallel parking along his front curb—not in his spacious driveway as expected.
The car’s interior light blinked on, giving him an unsettled feeling. The fact that the dashboard was cluttered with papers and other junk he couldn’t make out from the distance soured his opinion of Lacey’s date—and this boy hadn’t yet arrived at the front door. Already he could detect a debacle in the making, a doomed evening unfolding before it had a chance to get underway. How and where did his daughter find such a lad? At school? At a party? At the mall? How did this character, a boy who, without realizing it, already had two flaws working against him, manage to pique his young, reasoning daughter’s attention? How could the judgment of his honor-roll student have gone astray? The questions looping through his mind seemed never-ending and troublesome to rationalize.
On his way to the front door, the boy crossed the lush lawn rather than take the walkway; he stepped over the flowerbed instead of going around it. Terry Winters couldn’t stop scrutinizing this kid whose acquaintance he had never made. He acted more anxiety-ridden than his daughter was—one of his many personality quirks.
Seconds later the doorbell rang; Terry answered it and stood in the doorway, stiff and imposing like a prison guard, a reaction that didn’t seem to faze the boy, who stood smiling back at him, his face slightly ruddy from giddiness and anticipation among other difficult-to-control emotions. “I’m here to pick up Lacey, Mr. Winters. It’s nice to meet you, by the way.” Before responding, Mr. Winters appraised the kid’s appearance, finding fault in his wearing black sneakers instead of black shoes with his sports coat, a coat likely purchased second-hand; the material’s color faded, his wrinkled shirt untucked. Terry Winters reached out his hand and clutched the boy’s; he made a point of squeezing rather forcefully, as an immature child would do in an attempt to impress his buddies and demonstrate his prowess. The boy winced but somehow kept an uneven smile. Then he flashed all his teeth. “I’m Alex,” he said, shivering. “May I come in? It’s kind of chilly for a summer night.”
Terry Winters gave the boy a harsh sidelong glance, and then moved aside; Alex passed through and saw Lacey coming toward him, her mother trailing her. His eyes roamed discreetly around the room; the interior of the Winterses’ middle-class home was similar in size and furnishings to his own. Lacey went up to Alex and hugged him and, during their rather prolonged embrace, her father watched Alex’s hands like a spy trying to decode a complex mechanism. He knew full well what these kids were thinking nowadays, especially boys, not to mention the nerve they had to try something bold regardless of where they were or who was watching. Each generation was getting more and more arrogant, he thought. Alex’s hands remained on Lacey’s back; and fortunately so—her father was searching for a reason to come down hard on this cocky kid who momentarily would be courting his precocious and unspoiled only child.
As the kids eased away from each other, Lacey kissed him on the cheek. Alex mumbled, “You smell nice.” Mr. Winters heard the kid’s comment clearly but couldn’t stop himself from going on the offensive. “What’d you say?”
Alex’s face reddened. “What? Nothing.”
“Come on, now,” Mrs. Winters said. “Play nice, Terry.”
Lacey defended Alex. “Dad, everything’s cool. He just said that I smell good. I used the perfume you and Mom got me. The bottle you gave me as a gift for acing my classes.”
“Remember last week at the mall, Terry?” Mrs. Winters said. Abbey Winters had a more relaxed, disarming disposition than her husband. Her long silky black hair was wavy and well styled; her outfit—bell-bottom jeans and a scoop-neck blouse—made her look much younger and stylish. She knew how to carry herself, and her daughter’s appearance was equally polished. Abbey approached Alex and greeted him. “Pleasure to meet you, Alex! Lacey has told me so many good things about you. So have your teachers.”
“Really?” Alex said. “How do you know my teachers, Mrs. Winters?”
Abbey Winters pointed in the direction of a nearby window. “Two of them are our neighbors.”
Alex grinned shyly. “Eyes are everywhere, aren’t they? I guess we’re always on someone’s radar.”
“So where are you taking my daughter, Alex?” Mr. Winters interjected rudely.
The room suddenly became heavy with silence as Alex considered his answer. Lacey looked up at him with curious eyes, admiring eyes, thoughtful eyes, eyes blue as Bermuda’s water. She hadn’t been told where they were going; he had mentioned wanting to keep his plans a surprise. Now his plans had fallen apart. He scratched his eye, from an itch or as a nervous twitch, no one could tell. “Well…um…I uh… ‘The Slumber Party’ is playing at The Eagle Twin. Two of Lacey’s favorite actresses are in it. Maybe we’ll see that and then go to that cool burger joint next door afterwards. From what Lacey’s told me, she’s always been a burger-and-fries kind of girl.”
Lacey was smiling; so was her mother, who couldn’t stop herself from staring contentedly at her daughter and her first real boyfriend. “I remember those days, kids. All the nerves running through me. The excitement. Enjoy yourselves tonight.”
“I sure will, Mom,” Lacey said.
Alex took notice of her belt, the one he had given her two days prior. Terry Winters saw Alex’s attention fixed on Lacey’s waist. Alex had glanced at the belt for only a second or two, but in the mind of an anxious, meddlesome, easily alarmed Terry Winters, the boy’s gaze lasted a second too long.
“Distracted, are we?” he blurted.
Alex squinted. “No, sir.”
Mrs. Winters pulled up her blouse sleeves. “Terry…easy.”
Terry Winters smirked. “How’d you know I was talking to you, Alex?”
Alex peered at the floor but didn’t answer.
Lacey looked at her mother and shrugged her shoulders, hoping she would do something to break the palpable tension between Alex and her dad. Abbey Winters tapped her foot a few times, ran her fingers through her hair, rubbed the back of her neck. “Well, kids, better get going. The night beckons.”
Mr. Winters walked up to Alex. “Got a sec? In private?” He pointed over his shoulder to the other side of the room, the den.
Caught off guard, Alex’s eyes shifted back and forth; he put his hands in his pockets. “Sure, Mr. Winters. That would be fine.” As if he wasn’t nervous enough already, his heart started beating irregularly.
Abbey Winters took Lacey outside on the porch. Alex went to the back den with Terry; he entered the room first, Lacey’s father right behind him. The two faced each other. Mr. Winters tried to come across as intimidating but young Alex seemed surprisingly unshaken. Mr. Winters cracked his knuckles. “Look, Alex, I know your kind. Your thoughts.”
“Is that so, Mr. Winters? What am I thinking?” In just a few moments, Alex had miraculously calmed himself.
“Don’t get cute with me, kid. My daughter might be smitten by you, but I see right through your good looks and fake innocence.”
Alex didn’t falter. Even he couldn’t believe he was hanging tough, that some trigger had gone off and instilled in him a much-needed sense of determination. With each tension-filled second he was gaining confidence. “I don’t appreciate being called a fake, sir. I’ve been nothing but straight with Lacey—and with you and Mrs. Winters.”
“Oh yeah? Is that why I saw you checking out Lacey’s behind right in front of me and my wife?”
Bewildered, Alex shook his head.
Mr. Winters took another step toward Alex. “Can you defend that, Alex, huh?”
Alex retained his composure. “I was looking at her belt—not what you think I was looking at.”
“You got brass ones, kid. Pretending to be genuine, but all I see are flaws… flaws my daughter will see very soon I hope.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Winters, I’ve told you the truth. Lacey commented on my belt last week…she liked the style, the design. So I gave it to her and was surprised she had actually put it on, especially because it doesn’t fit her perfectly. That’s what I was noticing when you supposedly caught me staring at her waist.”
Like an actor in an old western, Mr. Winters tucked his large thumbs behind his oversized belt buckle. “You take me for a fool, kid?”
“No, sir, not for one second.”
“Good. Then pay close attention.”
Alex rolled his eyes, drew a quick shallow breath.
Mr. Winters had closed the gap between them and was now towering over Alex. He was at least a foot and a half taller than the kid. “I know your kind. I know what goes on in that head of yours. Don’t make the mistake I think you’re about to make. Because if you do, you’ll regret it. You keep your hands and your mind where they should be. Got it?”
“There’s no reason to threaten me, sir. I’ve done nothing to justify your attitude. You have completely misjudged me, and I’m real close to letting my dad know what you just said to me. He’d have no problem straightening this matter out.”
Terry Winters walked across the room, strutting and posturing, as if he were a snob admiring high-end paintings on a museum wall. In those few fleeting moments Alex took notice of the writing on the back of Mr. Winters’s work shirt: On The Level Carpentry. Then Mr. Winters turned around. “Look, kid, I know you better than you think I do. I know how men are. I’m a damn good judge of character… morals. Rarely do my judgments fail me.”
“I beg to differ,” Alex muttered. He rubbed his hands together and glanced at a nearby recliner, where a car magazine was open to a page showing a pinup girl wearing a hardhat and holding power tools. Alex cleared his throat. “Now that we’re being open and honest with each other, I have a confession to make.”
Terry Winters half-smiled; he couldn’t wait to hear Alex admit what he knew all along—that he had not-so-innocent ideas about his precious Lacey.
Alex’s face became crimson. “Yes—when I look at your daughter I think she’s pretty. But even though you think I’m full of it, I wasn’t staring at her butt before. I really was just noticing the belt…as I told you. But, yes, I have noticed her looks, just not in the way you suggest.”
“How you can lie to my face is beyond me.”
Exasperated by his inability to convince Mr. Winters of his innocence, Alex sighed and was about to leave the room. But before he went through the doorway, he paused as if taking a moment to carefully ponder his exit. Mr. Winters apparently had nothing more to say. Shaking his head in frustration, Alex went up to Terry Winters and stood eye to eye with him again. Mr. Winters didn’t budge; his eyes penetrated Alex’s like augers. If his glare of intensity had fists, it would have knocked Alex out.
Alex scratched the back of his neck. “You know what…I don’t appreciate being called a liar. That’s one thing I’m not. I also see the hypocrisy here, all of it coming from you.”
Mr. Winters arched his eyebrows. “Watch yourself, Tiny. You’re not as brave as you think. And I don’t care about your age, not when it concerns my little girl.”
Alex remained firm, his voice low and even. “You did the same thing when you were my age. That’s it…isn’t it? The guilt must be unbearable.”
Terry Winters glowered.
Alex continued. “So you compensate for your actions as a kid by being overprotective of Lacey, bullying her boyfriends. Some might respect that—not me.”
“Alex, you’re about to engage in a battle you can’t win. Don’t test these waters, they’ll scorch ya.”
“I can take the heat.”
Terry Winters raised his hand as if to warn of an imminent strike. “Careful, Tiny. This hand has a mind of its own.”
Alex back-stepped, but showed no alarm. “Go ahead and cut your hand loose; my dad would have a field-day coming over here and sorting this out.”
“Get out of my house, kid. Before this situation takes a dark turn.”
“Fair enough,” Alex said resignedly. “But just answer one question before I go.”
Terry Winters stood speechless, impatient, on the verge of not being able to govern his manifest anger any longer.
Alex pursued. “When you were a kid, didn’t you chase the girls? Didn’t you try to explore your manhood? Didn’t you ever brag about getting around?”
Terry Winters looked startled by Alex’s questions. He just couldn’t believe the gall of the kid for asking them, for questioning his elders, for trying to get the last word in, for trying to make him look guilty of what he was accusing Alex of. Alex, meanwhile, had more to say. “Well…those girls were somebody’s daughter, weren’t they? And you were just like any other kid. Just like me. Yet now you sing a different tune because your daughter’s the one being chased, the one developing faster than you can bear it… and you perceive me as the slime you probably were until you got married. But you got it all wrong, sir.”
Mr. Winters had a smug smile on his face. He was seething; and although he’d never admit it, not in a million years, he was astounded by this young man’s standing toe-to-toe with him, unlike others who had buckled under the same pressure. He made a fist and held it at his side, praying he could keep it there.
“If you can stand there and tell me,” Alex said, “that you never played the field, or never cast an admiring glance at a girl, then I’ll walk out of here and you’ll never see me again.”
Terry Winters pointed at the door, an indication for Alex to leave, and fast—before the situation became an irreparable conflict. As Alex left the room, he said, “That’s what I thought.”
When Alex was long gone, Terry Winters mumbled, “Punk.”
When Alex got out front, Lacey had an expression of confusion. “What took you so long? I was starting to think that you had changed your mind and run out the back door.”
Alex put on a smile for her. “No way. Your dad just laid out a few ground rules. Shared a few thoughts, you know?”
“Was he hard on you?” Lacey asked.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, once he understood my intentions and realized how I felt about you, he calmed down and wished us a good time.”
“Really?” Lacey remarked. “He must like you. I saw him arguing with the neighbor’s kid once. Chris Stanton. Just because he said he liked my shirt, my dad got all worked up. Stanton hasn’t talked to me since. He’s probably scared of my dad.”
“Well…I’m not. There’s no reason to be. I just want to get on with the evening. Have a good time. Besides, if your dad and I ever get into it down the road, I think he’ll have a pretty good idea what to expect from me.”
About to enter the car, Alex apologized for the mess. “Sorry about the papers and stuff. My dad’s plumbing van broke down this morning, so he had to use this car, his own car. He got home late today and forgot to get rid of the junk. I should’ve cleaned it off.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Lacey said. “I’ve seen worse. You should see my dad’s workshop. You’d think a tornado hit it.”
The kids laughed. They were quite comfortable with each other, and Alex himself felt a pride unlike any he had felt before, prouder than he felt after having made the varsity football squad. He had faced an unexpected challenge, a formidable one, and, having risen to the occasion, proved to himself that he was indeed capable of more than he once thought. His small yet extraordinarily satisfying victory was evident in the look of shock he had seen in Terry Winters’s eyes, a look that meant he had become a respectable young man who’d never have to doubt his character again. And even more important, he would never be afraid of defending it. Perhaps Lacey herself had sensed those virtues in him when they first met; and now she too realized, as they embarked on this date, that Alex Dalton was for her a good match. Maybe not her father’s ideal—far, far from it—but she could live with her father being disappointed in her. In fact, she reasoned, she could live with anything. After all, her life was hers and hers alone; she couldn’t please everybody. First—she had to please herself. If Lacey had seen Alex in action with her father, she would have been in awe of the poise one young man exhibited during an awkward and untimely confrontation. She would have realized how fast he was becoming mature, boasting honor and integrity and courage beyond his years.
At first I thought it might be good for my writers' music anthology until I realized it was a great expression title for what the story was about.
I believe fathers these days have a harder time than in the past. Here are a couple of my experiences when I dated in the dark ages. I recall dating a high school girl one time. Our date was a dud because she wasn't very interesting. But when I brought her to the front door to say good night like I always did to my dates, the door opened and her father grabbed her and pulled her inside before I could say a word.
When I was recovering at home from being paralyzed, my father, a trucker, thought that it would be nice for me to have a date. So he fixed me up with another trucker's daughter. We went to the drive-in theater and my dad insisted that she drive because of my paralyzed hands. Although I had to drive into town with our Buick station wagon so that she could drive. ;-) When we left the theater, she turned left into the speaker post and put a big dent in the driver's side door. I took over and drove her home. As we said goodbye to one another on her front porch, she complimented me on something, but then said, "You are in college and way above me, I don't know why my dad wanted me to date you." I drove home and tried to explain to dad what had happened to our Buick.
You made Terry into a very guilty and guarded father. On my first engineering job, a fellow engineer my father's age, took me into his home like a family member. He had a 16-year-old adopted daughter that I think he wanted me to be interested in. I wasn't. But my impression of him was that he wouldn't even allow her date any of the guys in her high school. He had recently had an affair at work. But after the affair he and his wife had three boys in like, five years. He probably remembered his years as a submarine sailor in many ports. No sailors for his daughter! That's why he picked me. ;-)
The second husband of my beautiful and very smart niece confided in me, "I took your niece out on our first date and was scared of your twin brother and what he would think of me. Instead, he took me out of the house into the garage and showed me his cars. I'm so glad we got together again after her divorce."
I think you overdid Terry and gave Alex too much courage. But that is the nature of fiction, to make your stories strong enough to be interesting. The hero and the antagonist.
The father is being too protective and became overbearing. My parents were protective of me too. Whenever I went out to a movie on a date, I would find my mom waiting outside of the theatre for me when the movie was over. When I went to parties, they would know where the party was held and would be waiting for me when the party was over. I have never even thought anything was wrong. They've never asked me any questions, they were just there, and I never thought anything they did was improper, I just knew they were there. Guess I was not thinking any bad thoughts when I was at that age.
Rovella is a beautiful woman with a cold heart whom blames herself for an unfortunate old family secret that is literally ruining her life. This secret impedes a gorgeous woman from having happiness in her childhood, and throughout her life. Dark sec
A page-turning novel about a relationship between best friends that is interrupted because of betrayal , deceit, sexual promiscuity and pregnancy happens!
