“So?”
“I wanted to take singing lessons when I was a kid. I asked my parents about it, but Mom was a dance teacher, and of course me being the only girl meant I was the one stuck taking dance lessons. Ballet, tap, jazz, the whole thing.”
“Okay. But what about singing lessons.”
“You have to understand. There was Mick and Gavin and all their sports. Every night of the week. And then my dance lessons. And Mom and Dad had to work. There just wasn’t time. And then there was money. All these activities were expensive. Singing lessons were expensive. The dancing lessons were free because Mom was the teacher.”
Now he understood. “Oh. I see. Everyone’s needs and wants were a priority, and what you wanted got shuffled to the end of the line.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Don’t make excuses for it, Jenna. You didn’t get to live your dream, while your brothers did.”
“They played school sports. It was much cheaper.”
“That’s all bullshit. You wanted to sing. Did you tell them you wanted to sing?”
She looked down at her hands. “I asked. Once.”
“And?”
“Mom explained that with dance and the boys in sports, there just wasn’t the time. Or the money. They said maybe some other time, once there was more money for singing lessons, but I never asked again.”
“And your dream went up in a puff of smoke.”
She didn’t say anything, but Ty could imagine what it must have been like for her. If he hadn’t been allowed to play hockey, it would have crushed him. He brushed her hair away from her face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s no big deal. We can’t always have everything we want.”
“It is a big deal. It’s what you loved.”
“I liked dancing, too.”
“Yeah, well I liked playing basketball, but it wasn’t what I loved. I got to do what I loved.”
She lifted her gaze to his. “So did I, when I went to Europe.”
And then someone crushed her dream again. He ached for her. “Now you have another chance.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. I have a career now.”
“You have a job. You have a great talent, Jenna. Why aren’t you out there showing it off?”
“Because I’m happy to just sing. I don’t need anyone else to hear it.”
“Are you really content with that? You write all these songs and you hide in your office singing them. And you’re happy with you being the only one hearing them.”
She didn’t answer, but he saw her flicker of a glance over to the guitar.
“You’re afraid.”
She snapped her gaze back to his. “No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you are. You’re afraid you won’t be good enough. You’re still letting that rejection hold you back.”
“That’s bullshit.” Her gaze narrowed. “And why is this so important to you, anyway?”
“Because I’ve been there.”
She leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“Playing professional hockey is a lot different than doing it for fun or even in college. It’s doing it for money, making a career out of it. Do you think I wasn’t afraid of failing? I’m not big on failing.”
“So you once thought about not doing it?”
“Yeah. I was good and I knew I was good. I had a gut feeling I could make it, but I wasn’t being branded as some future superstar with a guarantee of success. If I didn’t make it, I didn’t know if I could handle the rejection.”
She reached for his hand, clasped it between hers. “It’s hard to put yourself out there. The potential for failure is difficult for a lot of people to deal with. I don’t blame you for being cautious.”
He laughed. “Honey, I wasn’t just cautious. I nearly walked away from it all on the off chance I wouldn’t become a success. It was the dumbest thing I almost did.”
“So what changed your mind?”
“My mom. She said everything always came easy to me, and I had real talent. I’d always been a winner and that was great and all, but until I failed at something I’d never appreciate what success really meant.”
Jenna nodded. “Your mother sounds like a very wise woman.”
“I don’t know about that. She isn’t without her own faults and failures. But knowing she failed and picked herself up and started over made me believe I could do the same thing.”
“Then it sounds like she knows what she’s talking about. The voice of experience and all that.”
“Yeah, I listened to her advice and I took the leap.”
“Was it scary?”
“Scary as hell. And I did fail a few times. Got my ass kicked down to the farm clubs, had to work my way back up. Learned along the way that you have to work hard to succeed in this sport, the wrong attitude will get you sent down faster than you can spit, and the cream rises to the top.”