Perfect Rhythm Page 7
“So,” Meg said, “have you met her?”
“Yeah, of course. It’s a small town.” She trusted Meg, but she couldn’t tell her that Leo’s father was her patient.
Meg leaned toward the screen. “Aaaand?”
“No and. She’s just a woman, despite all the fame.” It surprised her how defensive she sounded, and she hoped Meg wouldn’t notice and ask even more questions.
Her friend studied her for a moment before nodding and moving on to another topic. Soon, Meg had her in stitches, recounting the latest incident at the coffee shop where she worked. Before she knew it, the alarm on her laptop went off.
“Oops. Sorry, Meg. I have to go. I’m having dinner with my family, and my mom will have my hide if I’m late.”
“Go,” Meg said. “I don’t want to be responsible for you being disinherited.”
“I’ll call you next week to hear how the meet-up went.” She ended the call, closed Skype, and within two minutes was on her way to her mother’s house.
After Holly had spent most of the week sharing meals at the quiet Blake household, Sunday dinner with her family was an adventure. She watched her mother, brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, and nephews reach across the table in a crisscross pattern to pass around the pulled pork, mashed potatoes, green beans, and coleslaw.
Noah, her youngest nephew, was hording the cornbread at his end of the table, and her niece Harper was trying to wrench the breadbasket away from him, nearly toppling over her glass of juice in the process.
The noise level was comparable to a medium-sized airplane during takeoff.
She wondered how Leo might fare in such a chaotic family setting.
“So,” Zack said, ignoring his offsprings’ ruckus, “how’s Leo doing? I haven’t seen her in town. Has she changed a lot since high school?”
Holly stopped her mother from heaping more of the mashed potatoes onto her plate. “Haven’t we all?”
“Not me,” Zack said. “I can still fit into my football uniform from back then.”
Lisa, his wife, leaned over and pinched his belly. “Yeah, but you won’t need the pads in some places anymore.”
The table erupted into laughter.
Zack swatted her hand away but then lifted it to his lips and kissed it. “Come on, admit it. You love my pads.”
Holly, her brother Ethan, and several of the kids made gagging sounds.
“Stop it,” their mother said.
Everyone fell silent. Their mother was the undisputed boss of the family. She could glare even Holly’s adult brothers into silence.
“Seriously, Holly.” Zack paused with the fork halfway to his mouth. “I’ve heard talk around town. I didn’t see Leo at church with her mom this morning, and Peggy said she has a pretty big chip on her shoulder now that she’s famous. Any truth to that?”
Holly pushed her plate away, knowing she wouldn’t get to eat a single bite before she’d satisfied their curiosity. “I thought so at first, but now that I’ve gotten to know her a little…”
“Ooohooo!” Ethan let out a wolf whistle. “So the two of you have gotten closer? Did she charm you with her ‘butterfly kisses’?”
Holly grimaced at his bad pun. She tossed a piece of bread at her smirking brother. He of all people should have known there was nothing going on.
“Kids!” Their mother raised her voice.
It worked, even now that they were grown up. At least physically, Holly mentally added and grinned.
“I never said we were close,” she told her brother. “I’m over at the Blakes’ to work, not to get to know their daughter.”
“You could do both, couldn’t you?” her mother said. “You need to get out more, meet up with friends…”
“I just talked to Meg and Jo before I came here.”
Her mother waved her fork. “I’m talking about real friends.”
“Meg and Jo are my real friends, Mom. Just because we talk online doesn’t mean it’s not real.”
Their mother and the Internet went together like dill pickles and apple pie.
“Yeah, Mom,” Ethan threw in. “Cait and I met online too, and now look at us—very real.”
“Thanks,” Holly mouthed to him and then added, “Jerk.”
They grinned at each other.
“Yeah, but the Internet can’t give you a hug after a bad day, can it?” their mother said. “It can’t cook you dinner, take you out dancing, or marry you and give me more grandkids.” Her eyes twinkled.
Holly groaned. “Mom, please. I don’t want kids. You know that.”
“Yeah, but what about a relationship?” her mother asked. “Don’t you want to find a nice…” She hesitated, then continued, “…woman and settle down?”
Holly gave her a grateful smile. It had taken her mother a while, but she had finally come around and accepted her orientation—at least the part she knew about. “It’s not that easy, Mom.”
“If you’re staying alone because you’re worried about what people will say…”
Zack put the bowl of green beans down with a thump. “To hell with people!”
Harper gasped. Four little faces turned to stare at him.
“What?” Zack said. “It’s true. People shouldn’t get a say in how you live your life. If anyone’s got a problem with you, they can—”
“Thanks, Zack,” Holly said before he could get himself into even more trouble with their mother. A warm feeling filled her from head to toe. “But that’s not it. I just… I don’t want to date right now, okay?”
“Don’t worry, Mom,” Ethan stage-whispered. “She won’t be lonely. We’ll get her a cat or twenty for her next birthday.”
Their mother sent him a glare that made him shut up.
“Who said I’m lonely? I’m perfectly happy on my own. And it’s not like I’m turning into a hermit. Meg invited me to come visit her in Chicago, and Zack talked me into meeting with the old gang at Johnny’s on Saturday.”
Her mother cocked her head. “Oh? Will Leontyne be there? She’s a lesbian too, you know?”
The sip of water Holly had just taken nearly went down the wrong pipe. Her ears started to burn. “Jesus, Mom. Don’t start. I’m not going to date Leo.”
“Just saying.” Her mother looked around. “So, who wants dessert? I made bread pudding.”
At the chorus of “me” that echoed around the table, Holly sank against the back of her chair, glad that the obligatory topic of her relationship status was closed for now.
Chapter 6
After being back home for a little more than a week, Leo had gotten used to her mother and Holly having lively conversations over breakfast. But apparently, Holly didn’t work weekends, so on Saturday morning, breakfast in the Blake household was a rather quiet affair.
“So,” her mother said, for the third time trying to draw Leo into a conversation, “how is your career going?”
Leo took her time chewing and swallowing a bit of biscuit. Her anger at her mother had faded, but not being told about her father’s first stroke still hurt. “Pretty well.”
“Yeah?” Her mother’s gaze revealed that she expected her to elaborate on that.
“Yeah. Most concerts of my tour were sold out.” Leo peered over at her father to see if that got a reaction out of him, but he continued eating without showing the slightest interest in the conversation.
“Oh. That’s good,” her mother said. “So you’re happy?”
“Well, there’s always room for improvement. We didn’t quite fill the Manchester Arena, but my manager says the Brits can be a tough audience for an American singer.”
“No, I mean…are you happy…not just with the last tour, but with your life overall?”
“I guess so. I’m living my dream, aren’t I?” Was she asking her mother or herself? Leo no longer knew.
He grunted.
Yeah, proud. Right. Her father had no longer been proud when, a few years later, she had wanted to get a guitar and play pop instead of classical music. For him, the guitar was not a serious instrument, and he had refused to come to any of the gigs she and her band played.
Even though she’d lost her appetite, she shoved the rest of her biscuit into her mouth, just to be done with breakfast.
But her mother took her time. She broke open another biscuit and ladled gravy over it. “I haven’t heard you play since you’ve been home.”
“I played one hundred and eighteen concerts in the past thirteen months,” Leo answered. “It’s time for a break.”
Her mother reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re taking a little time off. You’re welcome here for as long as you want.”
Leo nodded, but if her mother was looking for some indication on how long she intended to stay, she couldn’t give her one, because she didn’t know either. Part of her wanted to leave Fair Oaks as soon as possible, but where would she go? If she returned to New York, she would be sucked back into the never-ending maelstrom of concerts, interviews, and recording sessions. Maybe spending a little more time in Fair Oaks was exactly what she needed to clear her head and figure out why her life felt more and more like a straitjacket.
Her mother swiped a piece of biscuit through a puddle of gravy. “What are you going to do tonight?”
“Do?” Leo repeated.
That was the thing about Fair Oaks: there was very little to do on a Saturday night. As teenagers, their only entertainment had been hanging out at the diner until they were kicked out because Ruth wanted to close or cruising up and down Main Street once they were old enough to drive.
“Yes. It’s Saturday after all. Do you have any plans?”
Actually, yes. But Leo wasn’t sure her mother even knew what Netflix was. Her plans for tonight involved holing up in her room with her laptop and binge-watching her favorite TV show, Central Precinct. At least the writers of the crime show knew better than to kill off their lesbian characters or to have one of them cheat on the other. “I’m probably just going to stay in and watch some TV. Touring made me miss a lot of episodes I need to catch up on.”
Her mother waved dismissively. “You could watch TV now and go see your friends tonight. Holly said some of them are getting together at the bar.”
“In half an hour, I’m meeting with the guys putting in the new sink in Dad’s bathroom, and I want to look into a less-steep ramp for him. Besides, I don’t have any friends here, Mom.”
Her mother shoved her now-empty plate back. “Nonsense. Of course you have friends. There’s Jenny and Travis and—”
“Jenny!” Leo snorted. “We’ve never been friends. Don’t you remember? She was the one who outed me in front of—”
“I remember.” Her mother held up her hand like a shield against the spoken words. “What about Ashley?”
There was no denying that she and Ash had been friends—or maybe more. The jury was still out on that, and Leo didn’t want to linger on what-ifs. Still, she couldn’t deny that the mention of Ash’s name stirred old feelings deep inside of her. “Does she still live around here?”
“Oh yes. She never left. Didn’t you keep in touch?”
Leo shook her head. “No, we… I guess our lives were just too different. Is she married?”
“No. There were rumors a while ago, but…” Her mother compressed her lips into a razor-sharp line. “I don’t think she’s in a relationship. She bought the old Smotherman place a few years back. You remember that little red house at the edge of town? The one with the white shutters?”
Ash’s shutters weren’t what interested her. “Rumors?” she asked instead.
“It’s nothing. You know how people can be.” Her mother rose and started to clear the table.
“Let me do it,” Leo said. On Holly’s days off, the burden of taking care of her father was mostly on her mother. Guilt scratched at her conscience, but she couldn’t imagine taking over his daily care. Not that her father wanted her to. He had rejected any help from her so far. But helping out with household chores was something she could do.
“Thank you.” Her mother set the dishes back down. She released the brake on the wheelchair and started pushing him toward his room. Over her shoulder, she asked, “So, are you going?”
“Guess I am,” Leo said. Her mother wouldn’t be satisfied until she agreed to meet her classmates, and, admittedly, she was curious to see what had become of Ashley.
As soon as Leo got out of her rental car, she felt half a dozen pairs of eyes on her.
Most of the stores along Main Street were already closed, but a few locals were still out and about, and now they watched her every move as she crossed the street.
A young man hastened his steps to catch up with her. “Ms. Blake?”
She turned, expecting to be asked for yet another autograph.
“My name is Billy Neff. I’m a reporter for the Fair Oaks Ledger.” He flashed his press card. “I normally wouldn’t stop you on the street, but I tried to reach you all week, and I, um, was wondering if you would be willing to give me an interview.”
He barely looked old enough to write for anything but the school paper. Clearly, he was hoping a homecoming story about Jenna Blake would boost his career.
She suppressed a sigh. “Listen, I was hoping to fly under the radar as much as I can while I’m here. But if you promise not to print anything about me for the moment, I’d be willing to sit down with you and answer any questions before I leave.”
His eyes lit up. “Oh, sure. We could—”
Her phone rang, and she wasn’t surprised to see Saul’s name on the display. He had e-mailed her the contract for A Star is Born a few days ago, and now he probably wanted to know why she hadn’t looked at it yet.
“Do you have a card?” she asked the young reporter. When he handed it over, she put it away before giving him a nod and picking up the phone. “Hi, Saul. I’ve been meaning to call you, but the cell-phone reception in town is really shitty.”
“Have you looked at the contract?”
“Not yet. I’m still not sure a show like that is something I want to do.”
“Are you kidding? It’s targeting your key demographics!”
“But the show is not about the music. It’s more like a popularity contest with fake drama and—”
“Who cares?” Saul said. “It’ll get you in front of millions of viewers.”
“I know. Sorry, Saul, but I’ve got to go. I’m meeting with a reporter.” It wasn’t a total lie, and Saul didn’t need to know the interview wasn’t today. She ended the call.
A few more steps brought her to the door of Johnny’s Bar and Grill, where she paused.
Already she began to regret letting herself be talked into coming. Was it too late to turn back?
Without warning, someone ran into her from behind, knocking her forward. She turned her face at the last moment to avoid having her nose smashed against the bar’s front door. “What the—?”
When she turned around, the curse died on her lips, and her annoyance faded.
Holly stood in front of her, red hair adorably mussed as if she had been running her hands through it. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I was looking down at my phone for a second, to make sure I didn’t miss any calls from your mom, so I didn’t see you. I didn’t mean to run into you—literally.”
“We seem to be making a habit of that,” Leo said with a sm
ile, remembering how it felt to hold on to Holly when they had collided on her first morning back home.
“Yeah. Are you here to meet the gang too?”
Leo nodded. “My mother practically kicked me out of the house. Apparently, there’s a quota of locals I have to meet before she’ll let me back in.”
Holly chuckled. “My family is the same. They insisted that I tag along with Zack, even though I wasn’t in your class.”
“Where is your brother?”
“Probably already inside, halfway through his first beer. I was running a little late.” A hint of a blush colored her cheeks.
Peering through the glass, Leo scanned the bar. “Is it too late to turn back?”
“It won’t be so bad. Come on.” Holly reached around her and pushed the door open. Her arm brushed Leo’s shoulder, and her perfume teased Leo’s nose as Holly stepped past her.
Now there really was no escape.
As soon as she followed Holly in, a chorus of shouts erupted from the back of the room, where her former classmates had commandeered the corner booth. Jenny and her husband, Travis; Zack; Chris; and Ashley were crowded around the table.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Leo Blake,” Travis called. “Or is it Jenna Blake now?”
Lately, she had begun to ask herself the same question. That was the one good thing about being back in Fair Oaks: she got to reconnect with the part of her that was just Leo. “Leo’s fine.”
Ashley and Zack, who sat at the ends of the horseshoe-shaped booth, scooted to the side to make room at the table for Holly and Leo.
Even though Ashley was closer, Holly chose to sit next to her brother.
Leo glanced back and forth between Ash and Holly. Was there some bad blood between them? As far as she knew, they hadn’t hung out in high school.
“So good to see you,” Zack said. “Sit down and tell us all about the glorious celebrity life.”
“Jeez, Zack!” Holly elbowed him in the ribs. “Let the poor woman order first!”