Hold Me
Page 42
“Thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome.”
Destiny waved and left. As she walked home, she wondered if Shelby would listen. Or if she would think she could change Miles. That somehow with her, things would be different.
Destiny had seen that happen again and again. With her father, especially. Women knew his track record, but they always thought that things would be different with them, that he would change. And he never did.
She, on the other hand, saw things clearly. Rationally. She might be missing a few highs, but if the price of that was avoiding the lows, then she was all-in.
CHAPTER NINE
“I DON’T KNOW,” Starr said as they left the bleachers by the lake. “They were good and all...”
Destiny linked arms with her sister. “Oh, I so understand what you’re trying not to say. It was a great performance, but just a little strange.”
Starr laughed. “Right. Because they’re, like, you know, old.”
Destiny would guess that to a fifteen-year-old, a group of women over the age of sixty would be more ancient than just old.
X-treme Waterski Fest had started the previous day and would continue through tomorrow. There were various demonstrations, competitions and even a place on the lake where you could take lessons. She and Starr had just watched the famous Don’t-Call-Me-Grannies, a group of synchronized skiing women all over sixty.
“They were in great shape,” Destiny said. “We should be so lucky to look that good at their age.”
“I guess.”
Destiny grinned. “Can’t imagine ever being that old?”
“Not really. But I suppose it will happen.”
“The alternative isn’t a pleasant one,” Destiny told her.
Starr grinned. “You’re right. It’s going to be weird not to look forward to birthdays. Now I want to be sixteen so I can get my driver’s license.”
“I suppose part of the reason people don’t look forward to birthdays as they get older is that there aren’t as many milestones.”
“You’re not excited about being twenty-eight and a half?” Starr asked with a laugh.
“Not as much as you’d think.”
They walked into the main part of town. There were booths set up everywhere. Crafts, food and demonstration booths had their own sections. The flow really worked, Destiny thought. Whoever planned all this had done a good job of managing the crowds.
“I should invite my mom to visit during a festival,” she said.
“Lacey is coming here?” Starr sounded both excited and nervous. “This summer?”
“She usually visits me at my various assignments. She says those trips help her stay connected to her fans, because they keep her real.”
Starr nodded. “That makes sense. She’s not on a bus or a plane. She’s just living with normal people.”
Destiny smiled. “You know it’s all a crock, right? My mom will never be like her fans. She’s Lacey Mills, superstar.”
“What about when it’s just you? Isn’t she like a regular mom?”
“She is,” Destiny admitted, realizing she’d never thought about her time with her mom that way. “When she’s out on her own, she always has an entourage. She gets dressed up and waits to be mobbed by her fans. They generally don’t disappoint her. But when she visits me, it’s just her. And while she’ll never be confused with your average suburban mom, when she’s with me, she tones it down.”
“Only one bodyguard?”
“Yes, and he keeps his distance.”
“Can I meet her?” Starr asked.
“Of course.” Destiny started to say she was surprised Starr hadn’t yet, only to remember the teen and Lacey had no biological connection. “She’s great. You’ll like her. She loves to talk music, so have your questions ready.”
Starr looked at her. “OMG. Really? You mean that?”
“Absolutely. She’ll stay up all night talking about music and the business. And she has energy to spare, so she’ll be awake way longer than you.”
Starr clutched her arm. “I have to start practicing more. I have to get better before she comes here. What if she asks me to play? I can’t embarrass myself.”
“Deep breath. You won’t. Lacey doesn’t judge. And to be honest, she prefers to be the best musician in the room.”
“But Dad plays.”
Destiny sighed. “I know. It was a source of friction between them. They would have friends over and both play and then ask them to say who was better. That rarely ended well.” She pointed. “Let’s get elephant ears.”
“Sure.”
They headed to the booth and waited in line.
“It must have been so great, having all that music in the house,” Starr said. “Being able to listen to them and their music friends play.”
“I learned a lot,” Destiny admitted. “But it wasn’t one giant jam session. They traveled all the time. I’d go on tour sometimes, but often I was left behind. I missed school a lot. It was hard to make friends because I was gone and then back and then gone again.”
She wondered if that was where it had started—her not having friends. Back when she’d been younger than Starr. She remembered having a best friend when she was seven or eight—Mandy, a girl from down the street. Only something had happened, something with her parents. She’d never been sure if Jimmy Don had come on to Mandy’s mom or if Lacey had flirted with the husband. Either way, there had been a big fight, and she and Mandy had never been allowed to play together again.
“You’re welcome.”
Destiny waved and left. As she walked home, she wondered if Shelby would listen. Or if she would think she could change Miles. That somehow with her, things would be different.
Destiny had seen that happen again and again. With her father, especially. Women knew his track record, but they always thought that things would be different with them, that he would change. And he never did.
She, on the other hand, saw things clearly. Rationally. She might be missing a few highs, but if the price of that was avoiding the lows, then she was all-in.
CHAPTER NINE
“I DON’T KNOW,” Starr said as they left the bleachers by the lake. “They were good and all...”
Destiny linked arms with her sister. “Oh, I so understand what you’re trying not to say. It was a great performance, but just a little strange.”
Starr laughed. “Right. Because they’re, like, you know, old.”
Destiny would guess that to a fifteen-year-old, a group of women over the age of sixty would be more ancient than just old.
X-treme Waterski Fest had started the previous day and would continue through tomorrow. There were various demonstrations, competitions and even a place on the lake where you could take lessons. She and Starr had just watched the famous Don’t-Call-Me-Grannies, a group of synchronized skiing women all over sixty.
“They were in great shape,” Destiny said. “We should be so lucky to look that good at their age.”
“I guess.”
Destiny grinned. “Can’t imagine ever being that old?”
“Not really. But I suppose it will happen.”
“The alternative isn’t a pleasant one,” Destiny told her.
Starr grinned. “You’re right. It’s going to be weird not to look forward to birthdays. Now I want to be sixteen so I can get my driver’s license.”
“I suppose part of the reason people don’t look forward to birthdays as they get older is that there aren’t as many milestones.”
“You’re not excited about being twenty-eight and a half?” Starr asked with a laugh.
“Not as much as you’d think.”
They walked into the main part of town. There were booths set up everywhere. Crafts, food and demonstration booths had their own sections. The flow really worked, Destiny thought. Whoever planned all this had done a good job of managing the crowds.
“I should invite my mom to visit during a festival,” she said.
“Lacey is coming here?” Starr sounded both excited and nervous. “This summer?”
“She usually visits me at my various assignments. She says those trips help her stay connected to her fans, because they keep her real.”
Starr nodded. “That makes sense. She’s not on a bus or a plane. She’s just living with normal people.”
Destiny smiled. “You know it’s all a crock, right? My mom will never be like her fans. She’s Lacey Mills, superstar.”
“What about when it’s just you? Isn’t she like a regular mom?”
“She is,” Destiny admitted, realizing she’d never thought about her time with her mom that way. “When she’s out on her own, she always has an entourage. She gets dressed up and waits to be mobbed by her fans. They generally don’t disappoint her. But when she visits me, it’s just her. And while she’ll never be confused with your average suburban mom, when she’s with me, she tones it down.”
“Only one bodyguard?”
“Yes, and he keeps his distance.”
“Can I meet her?” Starr asked.
“Of course.” Destiny started to say she was surprised Starr hadn’t yet, only to remember the teen and Lacey had no biological connection. “She’s great. You’ll like her. She loves to talk music, so have your questions ready.”
Starr looked at her. “OMG. Really? You mean that?”
“Absolutely. She’ll stay up all night talking about music and the business. And she has energy to spare, so she’ll be awake way longer than you.”
Starr clutched her arm. “I have to start practicing more. I have to get better before she comes here. What if she asks me to play? I can’t embarrass myself.”
“Deep breath. You won’t. Lacey doesn’t judge. And to be honest, she prefers to be the best musician in the room.”
“But Dad plays.”
Destiny sighed. “I know. It was a source of friction between them. They would have friends over and both play and then ask them to say who was better. That rarely ended well.” She pointed. “Let’s get elephant ears.”
“Sure.”
They headed to the booth and waited in line.
“It must have been so great, having all that music in the house,” Starr said. “Being able to listen to them and their music friends play.”
“I learned a lot,” Destiny admitted. “But it wasn’t one giant jam session. They traveled all the time. I’d go on tour sometimes, but often I was left behind. I missed school a lot. It was hard to make friends because I was gone and then back and then gone again.”
She wondered if that was where it had started—her not having friends. Back when she’d been younger than Starr. She remembered having a best friend when she was seven or eight—Mandy, a girl from down the street. Only something had happened, something with her parents. She’d never been sure if Jimmy Don had come on to Mandy’s mom or if Lacey had flirted with the husband. Either way, there had been a big fight, and she and Mandy had never been allowed to play together again.
