I grimaced. “Good, but it’s never going to work.”
“Why not?” she asked as she eased into the bench seat across from me.
“The label wants very specific stuff from us, and this,” I waved the notepad at her, “isn’t it.”
Drawing her knees up to her chest, she rested her chin on the tops of her legs. “You won’t know until you approach them.”
“Trust me, it’s not happening.”
She cocked her brows at me “Oh, come on Mr. Glass Half Empty. What’s it about?”
With hesitating, I replied, “My mother dying.”
Her face fell. “Oh Jake, I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I know. And thanks.” When I started to rip out the lyrics from the pad, she reached over and grabbed my hand.
“No, don’t.”
I clenched my jaw with determination. “It won’t work, Angel. I have to sing about love, relationships, and sex. You know, bullshit like that. A song about my fucking heart being ripped to shreds because my mother is dying isn’t going to make an album, least of all a single.”
“What about Eric Clapton’s Tears in Heaven.”
I gave her a withering look. “That’s Clapton. He could tell any label to screw themselves if they didn’t like his songs.”
“Fine. Give me a minute here.” She drummed her fingers on the table for a few seconds. “Okay what about Alter Bridge’s In Loving Memory?”
My brows rose in surprise. “You actually listen to Alter Bridge?”
She rolled her eyes. “Contrary to what you think I haven’t been in a hole my entire life or jamming to the Jonas Brothers.”
I couldn’t fight my lips from momentarily turning upwards. “Yeah, well, Alter Bridge’s management isn’t necessarily marketing them the same way ours is.”
“You’re honestly going to sit there and give up so easily on something you obviously feel very passionately about?” She shifted her legs to where her elbows leaned forward on the table. “That doesn’t sound like the kick-ass and take-names Jake Slater I know.”
I scowled at her for a minute before blowing out a frustrated breath. “Okay Miss Fix-It, how do I make it work?”
Tilting her head, she chewed on her bottom lip, lost in thought. “What if you were to choose something symbolic to represent your mother’s…” I knew she couldn’t bring herself to vocalize the words.
“You can be a big girl and say it. Her death.” Abby started to open her mouth, but I silenced her with my hand. “Yeah, you’re sorry. I know. Now continue on about the symbol shit.”
“Like back in the day during the 60’s, people sang songs with symbols in them because of the FCC codes. You know, like the Byrd’s Mr. Tambourine Man was talking about a drug dealer, and I’m sure you know about Puff the Magic Dragon.”
I shot her an exasperated look. “And you just naturally expect me to know about the songs with the drug references?”
She grinned. “I didn’t mean any offense.”
I laughed. “I’ll have you know that I haven’t done drugs since high school, Angel.”
“That’s good to know.”
I made a circular motion beside my temple. “It messes with my creative side, so I like to just say no.”
“Hmm, what about the alcohol?” she challenged.
Damn, she had me there. I couldn’t help the sheepish expression from filling my face. “Yeah, well, we all have our vices I guess.” I then motioned to the notepad. “Okay, you think I should write about my mom’s death with symbols—make the emotions sound like something besides death.”
“Right.”
We sat in silence for a few seconds. When I snapped my fingers, Abby jumped. “What if I made death a person—like a dude I was fighting with for my mom?”
“But make her a girl—the only woman in the world you’ve ever loved.”
“Exactly.”
She bobbed her head enthusiastically. “You will totally make the audience believe that. Look at I Will Always Love You for example.”
My brow creased in confusion. “Whitney Houston?”
“No, Dolly Parton wrote it, but Whitney made it huge.”
I grinned. “Angel, you seem to have a bit of a Dolly Parton fetish that’s quite disturbing.”
Abby laughed. “Actually, it’s my mom with the Dolly fetish. She’s originally from Sevierville, Tennessee, where Dolly’s from. So I grew up with all her albums, and my mom read her book back in the day. In it, Dolly explains that while the song sounds like letting go of a love relationship, it’s actually about her severing ties with her business and singing partner, Porter Wagoner.”