Amanda in LA

Amanda in LA

Lyanne Hamm

ISBN 979-8-88540-444-0 (paperback)

ISBN 979-8-88540-445-7 (digital)

Copyright © 2022 by Lyanne Hamm

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing

832 Park Avenue

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The year was 1990…

Monday in LA

Tuesday Morning in Mexico City

Tuesday Morning in Los Angeles

Wednesday in LA

Wednesday Evening, Somewhere in Los Angeles

Thursday, Back at Daisy's Home

Friday, Mexico City

Friday in Los Angeles

Saturday in Mexico City

Saturday in Los Angeles

Sunday in Los Angeles

Wednesday in Los Angeles

About the Author

The year was 1990…

To stay a year in Los Angeles on a cultural exchange program was a dream come true; Manuel couldn't begin to describe his feelings. Everything he owned was in his bag along with his ticket. The long years of planning and preparing for his dream had paid off, and he was soon to be on his way.

The Mexican-born Jose Manuel Rodriguez was checking his appearance once more in the bathroom mirror while waiting for his taxi. He caught a glimpse of someone who looked familiar over his left shoulder. Before he could turn to say hello, he felt a sharp pain between his shoulder blades.

His lifeless body was dumped in a creek bed, without ID, three hundred fifty miles from his hometown—a lifetime from LA.

Three months later…

Monday in LA

Daisy sat quietly in her comfortable living room, tears streaming down her cheeks, as her granddaughter finished singing her song. Finally, she shook her head briskly, dabbed at her eyes with an ultrasoft tissue, and managed a smile.

You truly have such a gift Amanda. It is difficult for me to realize you wrote that yourself. She blew her nose while Amanda's eyes filled with tears.

Your grandfather and I always enjoyed watching your high school performances but regretted we didn't get to see you in your college productions. You were always on stage for one thing or another, but until our recent phone calls, I had no idea you were really serious about a career in music.

Amanda watched as her grandmother, whom she had not seen for nearly six years, walked over to adjust the curtains.

Of course, your mother was always telling us how talented you were. But to sit here and listen to you play and sing…well, like the best I've ever heard anywhere…

Amanda had just arrived at her grandmother's home in Southern California after working in the Midwest for four years, following her graduation from college with her degree in music. She had tried teaching for a year, worked as a manager in a music store and in a couple of small meaningless offices. She had auditioned for and received the lead in several community playhouse productions in Omaha, Nebraska, as well as her hometown in Lincoln. Of course, they were amateur, part-time hobbies that lasted only a few weeks out of the year. The burning desire to write music and perform professionally continued to nag at her until there was no recourse but to give it a try.

She wanted a chance to sing in a small piano bar where she could develop her style, try out her own songs, and maybe, someday, be able to sign a recording contract. Her parents solidly stood behind her entire twenty-five years but had died, tragically, in a plane crash, one month ago today.

Amanda and Daisy had been in phone contact every day the past month, making plans for Amanda to move out to California to stay with her grandmother. They had become closer now that they were both in a transition period after the recent death of Amanda's grandfather, Daisy's beloved husband, Henry Downing. They were needing each other now after so much grief.

Even though Daisy was standing with her back to her, Amanda felt her grandmother's emotion.

She broke the spell by saying, Hey, now that we are together, nothing can keep us down.

It was obvious to Daisy and Amanda that they were going to be seeing each other through some difficult times ahead.

Amanda couldn't believe how Daisy looked when she saw her in the LA airport three days ago when she stepped off the plane from Nebraska.

Amanda said, Grammy, when I stepped off the plane, I expected to see a…well, a grandma type. You know, an old twinkly-eyed woman with gray plastic glasses, tight curls, a blue-print dress, and comfortable shoes. I thought these last few years would have taken their toll on you.

Daisy laughed her hearty, musical laugh showing her perfect teeth.

Amanda continued, And then you put your arms out to me…this fine-looking, sexy lady with a sharp suit and three-inch heels. Then to top that off, you took me to your snappy red corvette.

We have to give the credit for the snappy red corvette to your precious grampy. It was his, and I just couldn't bear to sell it when he died. It was his pride and joy along with his beautiful dichondra lawn. Every day, you could find him outside manicuring his yard. He was almost obsessive about it. We would be all dressed and ready to go out to dinner, and there he would be outside in the middle of the lawn with his good clothes pulling out a weed or spraying something.

They were silent for a few minutes. Each lost in their own thoughts.

I thought after Mom and Dad died last month, I was never going to find someone to share my dreams with me, not family anyway.

I know how tough it has been for you, Amanda, with me in the hospital, unable to see you, through those first few weeks following the accident. They were flying out here to see me when…

I know.

If I hadn't had you to talk to everyday on the phone, I don't know what I would have done or how I would get through this.

You keep me going too, Grams.

Daisy walked over to the piano.

I wasn't really quite prepared for seeing you again though, Amanda said as she took her Grammy's hand in hers.

I guess you know how much mom's looks favored you. Not only just her looks, but her mannerisms—

About those dreams, Daisy interrupted, there is a perfect little place not too far from here.

Really!

There's only one small problem, no piano.

Oh well, a minor detail. What do you mean there is no piano? The dream is to sing in a piano bar!

Here's the deal, Daisy continued, We'll talk to the guy. His name is Nicky Conrad, and he owns Nicky's Place, and I think he would be open to some live music. I checked it out, and he does have a small group in once in a while, but they have never quite caught on. I think he needs to start thinking ‘class.'

What about space for a piano?

There is plenty of space. It just needs a little thought. The place is lovely. Someone at some time put a lot of energy into this property, but it has turned into just another local watering hole. A piano bar would bring it back to life.

Amanda got up from the piano bench, ran her finger along the piano's dark, smooth wood. Suddenly, it all seemed overwhelming. Why couldn't she and Grammy just stay here in this comfortable, beautiful house with the lush plants on the patio, the sunny yellow kitchen, the deck hovering over the pool, and the path leading down to the sandy beach of the Pacific Ocean. This is paradise.

Amanda ran out of the back door, down the winding steps with the pink wrought iron railing to the pool and cabana.

Since Amanda's arrival, there had been moments like this where the emotions simply took over, and either Daisy or Amanda had to turn away and stop all the feelings.

Having this dream to pursue together was good. They both instinctively knew it. They had laid their plans for the future during their long telephone conversations over the past four weeks. It would be therapeutic. Therapy, especially of the musical variety, would help them over these rough months ahead.

*****

That evening, they were visited by Reverend John Peters, pastor of the United Methodist Church, where Daisy and Henry had attended services for the past thirty years. Daisy, Henry, Reverend John, and his wife, Maggy, were dear friends, having often gone out to dinner, movies, and plays while Henry was alive.

Amanda was in the kitchen putting away the last of the dinner dishes when she heard the doorbell.

There has been a steady stream of visitors from the church ever since your Grampy died, Daisy told Amanda. It's down to occasional visits now from very special friends.

Amanda walked into the living room as her grandmother and Reverend Peters were sitting down in the settee facing the ocean view. The sun was sinking off to the right of the window, casting lights across the soft rippling waters of the deep Pacific. On a clear day, you could see Catalina Island.

Reverend Peters stood as Amanda approached him.

He smiled at her and said, Oh, it smells so wonderful in here like you had a Mexican dinner with my favorite Daisy! I imagine coming from Nebraska, you might not be used to such spicy food?

Actually, I am absolutely loving it and think I might become addicted.

Reverend Peter's smiled. Gently, he put his arms out to hug her. Your grandfather adored Mexican food.

Tears began to fill her eyes. He assured her the tears were appropriate and necessary. In a moment, she was back in control, and Daisy was filling Reverend Peters in on their plans.

Reverend Peters was impressed with Daisy's evaluation of Amanda's talents and ambitions.

I wanted to mention to you, Amanda, he said. We're needing some help at the church right now in the office. So while you are waiting for the right opportunity, we could use your help. We don't pay much, but we work hard.

Daisy laughed, and Amanda could see why Daisy enjoyed her church family, especially if they were anything like Reverend Peters.

The minister was in his mid-fifties, and while he wasn't a particularly handsome man, there was a reassuring peace about him which was very appealing. He smiled easily, and yet when he was speaking seriously, there was no mistaking his concern.

I might just take you up on that, Amanda responded. It could be the chance to keep bread on my table while I hit the streets, so to speak, to find the place that will listen to my music.

Oh, Reverend Peters continued, we need choir members.

Daisy chuckled. Don't you ever stop recruiting? You should have been in sales.

I am! He admonished. We all are.

The rest of the evening was a blur to Amanda. Reverend Peters left early in the evening.

Tuesday Morning in Mexico City

Brian woke early again. The past week had been exceedingly difficult for him. When he first arrived in Mexico City as the exchange pastor from the United Methodist Church in Southern California, he was full of confidence and anticipation. That was several months ago now, and some rather disturbing pieces of information were turning up about the replacement who was sent to take his place.

As he walked to his host church, his mind was racing with snatches of conversations he had with the priest.

Jose was adamant about wanting us at his church for his farewell party, Father John had told Brian. And then we were all going to the airport with him.

And what about Jose's personal items that were still in the safe that he was to pick up.

Brian had mulled this over. And along with the fact Jose was not corresponding (except through his secretary) with Brian, his Mexico City church family or the priests who had raised him, none of this was adding up. This was not at all like Jose.

As he walked into the small white stucco church, he smiled and waved at the two women who were cleaning the highly polished wooden pews in the sanctuary. Brian was amazed at how hard the people he was meeting worked to keep their homes and belongings clean and neat.

Brian's office was a small closet-like room