At my words, the man smiled, stepping closer, extending his hand, he murmured, "You don’t remember me do you? We were friends in high school. I’m Chase."
Mel looked at me, her eyes wide.
"I'm here for a gig," he said, his smile warm.
Chase looked down at Leo, who was now wide awake, his eyes glued to the stranger with the guitar. Kneeling down, Chase opened the guitar case. Inside was a well-used guitar. "Do you like music?" he asked Leo.
Leo nodded shyly. "I like when Mommy sings to me," he answered simply.
A smirk curving up the side of his mouth, Chase laughed. "How about I play you a song? I’ve heard your mama’s singing voice before." Then winking at me, he pulled out the guitar and began to strum a soft melody, a nursery rhyme that had Leo's eyes lighting up.
Tipping my head, I
