Free Too Little, Too Late by Marta Tandori Page B

liked the tune,” Marcus remarked, a silly grin plastered on his face.
    “You’ve got to come up with some lyrics for it,” Kate told him. “Then it’ll be absolutely fantastic!”
    “Now that the serious portion of the program is over with,” Graham joked, “we’ll be happy to take requests from the audience.”
    Marcus’ music had the much-needed effect of stabilizing her inner turmoil and Kate was more than willing to go along with their fun. “Okay.” She gave his suggestion some thought. “Do you guys know These Autumn Days ?”
    “Sure.” Rob strummed the first few notes on his guitar before Marcus joined in with Graham bringing up the rear on drums.
    “There are days that are good, there are days that are bad, there are days that are happy, there are days that are sad…and then there are autumn days…these autumn days…” Marcus’ well-modulated baritone filled the room while his friends hummed along. When he got to the second verse, it was as if a giant weight had fallen from Kate’s shoulders and she impulsively began singing in a vibrant alto. The chorus was followed by two more verses before Marcus and Kate finished in perfect harmony. It was at that precise moment, when the song had ended and the last note ebbed to silence, that they all realized something magical had just happened.
    Graham was the first to break the spell. “Holy shit,” he whispered.
    “That sounded damn fine!” Rob crowed happily.
    Marcus swallowed hard as he stared at Kate. “How long have you been singing?”
    “You mean in front of someone?” she asked breathlessly. “This was my first time.”
    Graham gave Rob a pointed look before clearing his throat dramatically. “I guess it’s time Rob and I got going.” He yanked at his friend’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s go.”
    Kate and Marcus never bothered to reply. They were oblivious to everything but each other.
    “Don’t bother getting up,” Rob joked as he and Graham gathered up their things and headed for the door. “We’ll let ourselves out.” With that, they left.
    Marcus got up from behind the piano and sat down beside Kate on the sofa. Gathering her into his arms, he tenderly kissed her. “I’ve been meaning to do that for a long time,” he confessed.
    Any lingering tension Kate may have felt disintegrated at Marcus’ touch. “And I’m just realizing now how much I’ve been wanting you to do it,” she told him solemnly. Kate wasn’t sure how long they sat there wrapped in each other’s arms. All she knew was that for the first time in her life, she felt safe and protected. Perhaps it was time to stop fighting the inevitable. She gazed at Marcus, her beautiful eyes luminescent. “Would you like to meet my daughter tomorrow?”
    The grin that lit his face spoke louder than any words. “I thought you’d never ask.”
    The next day, they were on their way to Woodland Hills when the story of Karl Bauer’s death made the news.

CHAPTER 7
    1967
    After that night in his apartment, Marcus had an epiphany. With their melodic vocals, he became convinced they could make it as a group and his energetic enthusiasm soon had Rob, Graham and Kate on board. Rob named the group after the paisley scarves Kate liked to wear around her neck. They all kept their day jobs and after a couple of months of solid rehearsals and Marcus fine-tuning their arrangements, they managed to save up enough money for some studio time so they could cut a demo tape. They recorded Marcus’ first song, “ Make a Wish ”.
    Their demo tape spent the next four months making the rounds of the various record labels without so much as a blip of interest. At night, they would play parties, fairs and every other gig Graham could land for them but with the rise of rock music and the explosion of the British bands on the music scene, no one seemed particularly enthusiastic about the Paisleys’ soft musical style. Rob and Graham were slowly becoming discouraged by their inability to