Hold Me
Page 14
“Yes, ma’am,” they said together.
Eddie walked away.
“How does she know who we are?” Starr asked. “Why was she mean?”
“All good questions,” Destiny told her. “It’s a small-town thing.”
“The smallest town I lived in was Nashville. From there we moved to Atlanta and then to Miami.” Starr paused for a second. “Dad took me on tour once. I was eight. We went to small towns, but that was different. I don’t know if I like it here.”
“You have to give it time. It can be more intense, but it’s also easier to get to know people because you’ll see them again and again.”
“Which is great unless you don’t get along.”
Destiny laughed. “So you’re not an optimist?”
“I guess not.” Starr’s green eyes brightened. “Isn’t moodiness a sign of, like, having talent?”
“I think it’s more about being a teenager.”
“Were you moody?”
“Grandma Nell didn’t believe in moods. She always said the chickens didn’t care how I felt about feeding them, as long as I got the job done.”
“She sounds, ah, really great.”
Destiny grinned. “She was, but she wasn’t easy. Still, I loved being with her.” She turned back to the poster. “All right. Let’s choose our bands. You first.”
They looked at the offerings and had a heated discussion of rock versus bluegrass. Ten minutes later, their day was scheduled, musically, at least. It was early for lunch and with the music not starting for a couple of hours, the afternoon loomed long.
Destiny wasn’t sure what they should talk about. School? Was that a safe topic?
“Are you keeping in touch with your school friends?” she asked.
Starr shrugged. “Some.”
“If you want to invite anyone to come stay for a few days, that would be okay. A weekend would be better so I wasn’t working,” she added.
“Thanks, but no. They all have plans with their families. Becky’s going to Europe, and Chelsea’s going to a language school.” Starr sighed heavily. “Her dad works for, like, the government or something, and she has to learn a bunch of languages.”
“That would be kind of hard.”
“I know, right? But she’s good at it. Becky’s good at math. I’m not really good at anything. I thought maybe music but...” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
For a second Destiny felt a flood of guilt. She’d only heard her sister sing a couple of times, but she had a pretty voice. She knew she could teach Starr how to play the guitar better. Maybe they could start on the keyboard. Only Destiny didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to get involved or have anyone she knew in that business. It was seductive and dangerous. From the outside, the music world was glamorous, but from the inside, it was anything but.
A tall woman with a baby strapped to her chest approached them. She smiled engagingly.
“Hello. You must be Destiny and Starr Mills. Nice to meet you both. I’m Felicia Boylan. I run the festivals here in town.” The woman paused. “Interesting that we’re all natural redheads. Only about two percent of the population has red hair. The gene itself is recessive. I believe the color is caused by a mutation of the MC1R. That’s a gene that—”
Felicia paused then shrugged. “Sorry. Pretend I never said all of that. Most people don’t find my bursts of knowledge particularly interesting, but they are, I assure you, harmless.”
“Is that true?” Starr asked. “What you said about a mutation?”
“Yes. But not in a way that gives you super powers, like in the X-Men movies. Although, curiously enough, red hair doesn’t go gray. It simply fades over time.” Felicia smiled again. “Not that you’ll care about that now, but in forty years, it will be comforting.”
Starr looked more confused than reassured.
“Cute baby,” Destiny said. “How old?”
“Eight months.” Felicia beamed. “This is my daughter, Gabrielle-Emilie. She’s named after Gabrielle-Emilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil, a French courtier who collaborated with her lover Voltaire on many physics projects. However, if you ever meet my brother-in-law Gabriel, please don’t tell him that the baby isn’t named after him. He made an erroneous assumption, and we’ve decided not to disabuse him of it.”
Starr looked even more confused, but nodded and touched the baby’s hand. “Hi, Gabrielle.”
“We call her Ellie for short. Humans bond through the use of nicknames, and my son, Carter, requested this one in honor of his mother.”
Destiny was having trouble keeping up. “You’re not Carter’s mother?”
“No. It’s complicated.” Felicia turned to Starr. “Mayor Marsha told me you were thinking of coming to the summer camp. I wanted to stop by and let you know that according to my son, it’s really great and you’ll enjoy yourself. He’s fifteen, too.”
Destiny was willing to accept that locals might know her and Starr’s names and maybe even why they were in town. But knowing ages and about the camp was a little strange.
“Thanks for the information,” Starr said shyly.
“You’re welcome. One of the things they do at the camp is assign you a buddy. That’s someone who’s been there before. She’ll show you around and introduce you to people. It can be difficult when you’re new. Or odd. I was always odd when I was growing up. I’m better now. My husband says falling in love mellowed me, but I think it’s more that our intensely personal interactions have allowed me to develop my social skills.”
Eddie walked away.
“How does she know who we are?” Starr asked. “Why was she mean?”
“All good questions,” Destiny told her. “It’s a small-town thing.”
“The smallest town I lived in was Nashville. From there we moved to Atlanta and then to Miami.” Starr paused for a second. “Dad took me on tour once. I was eight. We went to small towns, but that was different. I don’t know if I like it here.”
“You have to give it time. It can be more intense, but it’s also easier to get to know people because you’ll see them again and again.”
“Which is great unless you don’t get along.”
Destiny laughed. “So you’re not an optimist?”
“I guess not.” Starr’s green eyes brightened. “Isn’t moodiness a sign of, like, having talent?”
“I think it’s more about being a teenager.”
“Were you moody?”
“Grandma Nell didn’t believe in moods. She always said the chickens didn’t care how I felt about feeding them, as long as I got the job done.”
“She sounds, ah, really great.”
Destiny grinned. “She was, but she wasn’t easy. Still, I loved being with her.” She turned back to the poster. “All right. Let’s choose our bands. You first.”
They looked at the offerings and had a heated discussion of rock versus bluegrass. Ten minutes later, their day was scheduled, musically, at least. It was early for lunch and with the music not starting for a couple of hours, the afternoon loomed long.
Destiny wasn’t sure what they should talk about. School? Was that a safe topic?
“Are you keeping in touch with your school friends?” she asked.
Starr shrugged. “Some.”
“If you want to invite anyone to come stay for a few days, that would be okay. A weekend would be better so I wasn’t working,” she added.
“Thanks, but no. They all have plans with their families. Becky’s going to Europe, and Chelsea’s going to a language school.” Starr sighed heavily. “Her dad works for, like, the government or something, and she has to learn a bunch of languages.”
“That would be kind of hard.”
“I know, right? But she’s good at it. Becky’s good at math. I’m not really good at anything. I thought maybe music but...” Her voice trailed off, and she shrugged.
For a second Destiny felt a flood of guilt. She’d only heard her sister sing a couple of times, but she had a pretty voice. She knew she could teach Starr how to play the guitar better. Maybe they could start on the keyboard. Only Destiny didn’t want to go there. Didn’t want to get involved or have anyone she knew in that business. It was seductive and dangerous. From the outside, the music world was glamorous, but from the inside, it was anything but.
A tall woman with a baby strapped to her chest approached them. She smiled engagingly.
“Hello. You must be Destiny and Starr Mills. Nice to meet you both. I’m Felicia Boylan. I run the festivals here in town.” The woman paused. “Interesting that we’re all natural redheads. Only about two percent of the population has red hair. The gene itself is recessive. I believe the color is caused by a mutation of the MC1R. That’s a gene that—”
Felicia paused then shrugged. “Sorry. Pretend I never said all of that. Most people don’t find my bursts of knowledge particularly interesting, but they are, I assure you, harmless.”
“Is that true?” Starr asked. “What you said about a mutation?”
“Yes. But not in a way that gives you super powers, like in the X-Men movies. Although, curiously enough, red hair doesn’t go gray. It simply fades over time.” Felicia smiled again. “Not that you’ll care about that now, but in forty years, it will be comforting.”
Starr looked more confused than reassured.
“Cute baby,” Destiny said. “How old?”
“Eight months.” Felicia beamed. “This is my daughter, Gabrielle-Emilie. She’s named after Gabrielle-Emilie Le Tonnelier de Breteuil, a French courtier who collaborated with her lover Voltaire on many physics projects. However, if you ever meet my brother-in-law Gabriel, please don’t tell him that the baby isn’t named after him. He made an erroneous assumption, and we’ve decided not to disabuse him of it.”
Starr looked even more confused, but nodded and touched the baby’s hand. “Hi, Gabrielle.”
“We call her Ellie for short. Humans bond through the use of nicknames, and my son, Carter, requested this one in honor of his mother.”
Destiny was having trouble keeping up. “You’re not Carter’s mother?”
“No. It’s complicated.” Felicia turned to Starr. “Mayor Marsha told me you were thinking of coming to the summer camp. I wanted to stop by and let you know that according to my son, it’s really great and you’ll enjoy yourself. He’s fifteen, too.”
Destiny was willing to accept that locals might know her and Starr’s names and maybe even why they were in town. But knowing ages and about the camp was a little strange.
“Thanks for the information,” Starr said shyly.
“You’re welcome. One of the things they do at the camp is assign you a buddy. That’s someone who’s been there before. She’ll show you around and introduce you to people. It can be difficult when you’re new. Or odd. I was always odd when I was growing up. I’m better now. My husband says falling in love mellowed me, but I think it’s more that our intensely personal interactions have allowed me to develop my social skills.”
