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I sat down beside her as Fox came up from the basement with one of his old acoustics and handed it to me. I wiped dust off of her body and neck.

“She needs tuning,” Adele told me frankly. She handed me my old Fender and grabbed Fox’s guitar and began to strum the frets and manipulate the tuning keys.

“You got a guitar fork or you magically possess perfect pitch?”

She shrugged like the pre-tween she was.

“Mom says I got a good ear, and that I got it from you.”

“Your mom’s right about a lot of things.”

She listened closely and strummed, leaning her ear into the fretboard. Her fingers were adept and she felt the stings to check how taught they were, like her hands were as trained as her ear. This feeling of music was a talent I was born with and it felt like magic to watch her do the same thing.

“Are you named after the singer-songwriter?”

“Yeah, you know the song “Hello”? That one always made my mom cry. She said she listened to it when I was little. She also said it’s like an anagram for my uncle’s name. Her brother died when he was young in a motorcycle accident. Mom misses him a lot, that’s how she got all those scars on her arms and legs. Well, that and when you left.”

Adele didnn’t mince words. I remembered the lyrics to “Hello” and it hurt.

They say time’s supposed to heal ya, but I ain’t done much healing.

I didn’t want to cry in front of the girl—again.

“What other artists do you like?”

“Taylor Swift and Billie Eilish.”

I nodded.

“But I also like James Taylor and Johnny Cash, Jimi Hendrix, Neil Young, Bob Dylan.”

“Oh, you like the good stuff.”

“That’s who Fox had me cut my teeth on. He gave me all your old sheet music books. Nothing but the good stuff. My school friends think I’m weird when I tell them I listen to the Beatles, but the way I see it, if you aspire to be like the masters, then you can develop your own style later after you’ve learned from the best.”

“I can tell you right now, I heard you're playing upstairs and you’ve already established your own style. If you play the Beatles, you must know “Here Comes the Sun”?

“Yeah, I know it,” she said. Adele rubbed her nose with the back of her hand and sniffed. She had absolutely no idea how fantastic she was. Smart, talented, mature, a pleasure to be around. This was my kid, and Ellison and Fox raised her to be a phenomenal person. I passed her back my Fender and Adele handed me Fox’s guitar. I strummed a few chords to get the key and Adele was making eye contact waiting for me. She capos the fret and came in at the exact right moment in A major and we played the chords together.

I choked up on “little darlin’ and held back tears. Her voice was stunning. Raspy and strong, her pitch was flawless. She smiled when she played and it made her come alive. She looked as natural with a guitar as most kids looked with a scooter or bike.

“Wow!” I said when we played the last verse. “You’re pretty damn good, Adele.”

“You’re good, too. When was the last time you played?”

She smiled at me and it felt like a thousand suns were lighting up my insides. I spent ten years wishing I could leave this world and absolve the pain. Now I never wanted to leave. Just watching her thrive was enough for me.

“I think it was ten years ago. Maybe in that exact same chair. It used to be over there by the window. And it was probably a few days before the incident where I was sent away. Your momma used to like me to play for her. All those songs you learned, I learned them for her.”

“Did you love her a lot?” Adele asked me.

I’ve never been a guy who cried, but then, the tears were freefalling down my face in a steady stream.

“Christ, Adele, I loved her so much. I never meant for this to happen. But it’s my fault. My fault I didn’t know about you, my fault I turned your mother away. I’m sorry I missed so much. I’m gonna do my best to make it up to you if you’ll let me.”

Adele placed the guitar down gently and stood. She wiped her hands on her purple shorts and moved toward me. My heart thumped in my chest. Getting to know my daughter at ten, felt like trying to break through a cat or a wild rabbit for that matter. One little wrong move and I could destroy all of the progress.

Adele wrapped her scrawny arms around me and hugged me hard. I hugged her back and rested my face on the top of her head. She smelled like dandelions and sunshine.


Tags: Mila Crawford Crime