I gulped. Press conference? With flashing bulbs and people shouting questions at her?
“What kind of evidence did Delilah provide? People come out of the woodwork all the time claiming to be celebrities’ children.”
The reporter gave a little laugh. “Yes, they do. In the video, Delilah shows a photograph of a woman who appears to be Georgia, pregnant. There is another child, perhaps Delilah’s older brother, Lou, also in the picture and Ray Doucette. As you can imagine, teams are digging into Waters’s history to see if they can find evidence to prove this girl’s story. We’re waiting for word on Ray Doucette’s condition, and so far, there’s been no comment from Georgia Waters or the Doucette family.”
The reporter nodded and gave a tight-lipped smile. My mouth had gone dry. I stared at the TV. The anchor had moved on to other stories.
I held on to the edge of Dad’s bed and then pulled myself to a chair in the corner. “Dizzy?” Dad’s voice sounded echoey and far away. I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought Georgia would see the video and then come and visit us. We’d sort things out. She’d announce who we really were and life would go on, different but kind of the same. What Dad and Lou had warned me about had come true: pictures of me would be splashed all over the TV and newspapers, I’d be hounded by reporters, my family’s private life was going to be an open book. As much as I wanted to hide, I’d never been more visible.
“Dizzy!” Dad said again, his voice urgent. I hugged my knees to my chest and buried my head between them.
“I’ll take her home,” Jeremy said.
How could I go home? All the reporters were outside the store waiting for me. I’d made our house into a circus. How would any of us return to it?
- 46 -
Ray
Lou gave the TV a disgusted look and flicked it off. “Don’t know why we’re watching it,” he said. It got quiet, just the beep of the green line on the monitor filling up all the space. I preferred the TV.
There was a knock at the door and Donnie poked his head in. “You up for some visitors?” he asked. Didn’t wait for my answer before him, Rudy, and Barney filed in, looking sombre, like they were coming to a funeral.
“You guys didn’t need to come,” I said. “They’re letting me go in a couple hours.”
They all shrugged. “Thought we’d be visiting Barney in the hospital before you,” Rudy said with a rumble.
“What are you talking about?” Barney replied and rubbed his belly. “This is muscle!”
Dizzy’d been curled up in a ball, but I saw her relax a little as the guys started ribbing each other. Donnie crouched down beside her and whispered something in her ear. He’d always had a way with her. Even when she was little.
“There can’t be this many people in a room at once,” a nurse said, bustling toward me, checking some things against the file that was stuck at the foot of the bed. “Some of you will have to leave.”
“It’s not that many.” Rudy grinned at her. “Just my big personality that fills up the space. Makes you think there’s two of me.” One corner of her mouth went up. God love him. He’d try to charm any woman within ten feet.
“Trust me. It’s not your personality that fills the space.” The rest of us snorted, jeering him.
“We’ll go,” Lou said with a sigh. “I could use some food anyway. Get the taste of this coffee out of my mouth.” I looked at Dizzy, not sure if she’d follow them, but she did.
Felt more like myself having the guys around. “You see the news?” I asked.
They all got quiet. “We weren’t going to say nothing.” Barney eased himself into a chair. His beard lay on top of his belly.
“There’s photographers all over the store …” I let my voice trail off. “Dizzy went to the concert. Met Georgia backstage.” Donnie’s eyebrows went up as I said that.
“What happened?”
Shook my head. “Didn’t go well.” I left it at that. Everything she’d told me about the concert was fuzzy. Locked in my memory somewhere. I didn’t remember the reporter’s phone call either, but Lou did. He said I passed out just after I hung up.
“You and the kids wanna crash at my place, till things clear up?” Rudy offered.
I couldn’t think that far ahead, but I appreciated the offer. “Gotta keep the store open.” I frowned. If I still had a store. What Dizzy had done was exactly what the lawyers didn’t want to happen. She’d violated the contract, made a spectacle of herself and Georgia. Those papers gave Georgia’s people the ability to come after me. Felt my heart start to beat faster thinking about what came next. Calm down, I told myself. Nothing you can do from a hospital bed anyway.
“You know, you might want to make a statement. Something to get them to back off, like you need your privacy right now. Something like that.” Donnie, always the voice of reason.
“That’s a good idea. I can’t do it, though.” I gestured to the IV. All the guys looked at Donnie.
“You want me to do it?”
“It was your idea,” Barney said.
He sighed. “Anyone got a pen?” We fumbled around for something until Barney found a pen in his jacket pocket. The paper was easier — Donnie used his grocery list. Right after broccoli, he wrote: “Ray and his children ask for privacy during this time. He would like me to remind everyone that his daughter is only fifteen. He also has a business to run. His family will not answer any questions about Georgia Waters until they are ready to do so. Thank you.”
“So, when are you gonna read this out?” Barney asked.
“I could do it now. Maybe they’ll clear out before you get home.”
I snorted. “Fat chance. They’re like a pack of dogs sniffing for fresh meat.”
“You’re forgetting something,” Rudy said. He pointed at himself and Barney. “You got security right here. We can keep those dogs on the other side of the street. Get a few neighbours to complain, and all of a sudden, you’ve got a police presence. They’ll push ’em back.”
That made me feel better. I didn’t want Dizzy dealing with them in her face every time she left the house. “Guess we could use the fire escape at the back of the building, instead of the front door.”
“You hear anything from Georgia yet?”
Shook my head. “Nothing. Supposed to be a press conference tomorrow.” To say what, I didn’t know. Maybe she’d accuse Dizzy of being an infatuated fan, of making the story up. Be easier for us to deal with that lie than the truth.
Donnie tucked the paper with the statement into his jacket pocket. “We better get going. Let the kids back in.” Barney manoeuvred himself out of the chair. All of them came to the bed and slapped me on the shoulder. “Get better, okay? Stop scaring us.”
“Yeah, no shit. If anyone’s gonna have a heart attack, it should be me,” Barney said. “I could get to know some of the nurses around here.”
“See you, man.” Donnie looked me in the eye. “If you need a place for the kids to crash, I’m sure Sylvia would be okay with it, too. This is gonna be tough on them.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know. Might be a good idea, at least at first.” Barney lined up behind Donnie, the unasked question clear on his face. “It’s not your fault,” I said. “After all you did to get the ticket, I never gave it to her. Knew it was a bad idea.”
“Father knows best, right?” He slapped me on the arm. “See ya, old man. Get better, okay?” I nodded, and the three of them left. All my feelings for Georgia were mixed up. Hard to untangle how I felt about her. The way she left, there was so much unfinished. Like a conversation that never ended properly. Even when she came back that one time, we never settled anything. I wanted her to see the kids, thought being around them would convince her she needed us in her life. But it backfired, because the next thing I knew, I had a manila envelope in my hand from a law office in New York City.
The ball was in Georgia’s court now. What she did would set the course for us. Like always, I had no idea what she’d do. Admit the k
ids were hers? Or call Dizzy a liar? The press would believe her either way. She had the money to buy the truth, forge a document, get lawyers to file injunctions, or whatever the hell people do to stop other people from talking about them.
Here I was, chained to a frickin’ hospital bed, useless. That little green line kept bumping up and down.
The phone beside my bed rang. Didn’t even notice I had a phone till I heard it. I reached for it and took a breath before I said hello. The other end of the line was quiet.
“Ray.”
It was like a punch in the gut hearing her voice. Made my head spin. I couldn’t say anything at first. Held the phone tight and closed my eyes.
“Yeah.”
“It’s Georgia.”
I lay on the bed, speechless. Reeling.
“I’m outside. I wondered if I could come up and see you.”
Rubbed a hand over my face. Scratchy stubble. Lying in a hospital gown. No shower. IV tube. “I’m not —”
“I know it’s not the best time. But I leave later tonight.”
Now or never.
“Okay. Just, I’m not at my best.”
Georgia gave a wry laugh. “I know the feeling.”
My hand shook when I put the phone back on its cradle. Goddammit. How’d she still do this to me? Made me feel like I didn’t know if I was coming or going. In a few minutes, she’d be standing at the end of my bed. In this room.
- 47 -
Dizzy
Dad’s doctor caught us in the hallway as we came back upstairs from the cafeteria. “We’re going to keep him for a few more hours, but he’ll be home for dinner.”
“So he’ll be okay?”
“Yes. Just needs to make sure he gets enough fluids and rest. Might be weak for a few days, but he’s going to be fine,” the doctor assured us. “Can I ask you kids something?” He looked right at me. “Is it true? What’s on the news?”
I stammered for an explanation.
“Yeah. It is.” Lou took a step closer to me, protective.
The doctor nodded a few times. “Wow,” he said and shook his head, like he didn’t know what else to say. As he walked away, he pulled his phone out of his white coat pocket.
“So that’ll be all over the hospital,” Jeremy muttered.
“You could have said it’s a lie,” I said quietly.
“I know. But it isn’t.” To hear Lou say it made a guilty lump in my throat. He put an arm around my shoulder and hugged me against him. We walked past a nurses’ station on our way back to Dad’s room, and three of them peered at me, curious. At the end of the corridor, someone stood outside of Dad’s room. Tall and bald. “Who is that?” Lou’s arm dropped and our pace quickened. The can of iced tea I’d drunk in the cafeteria sloshed uncomfortably in my stomach. “Did a reporter get in?” Lou looked back at the nurses’ station. There were now five of them craning their necks to watch us.
“What’s going on?” I asked, panicked. The three of us broke into a run and sprinted the rest of the way to Dad’s room. The guy in front of the door was even bigger up close. Taller than Lou and double the weight, he eyed us up and down.
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?” Lou asked, narrowing his eyes.
The guy knocked on the door. “Yeah?” we heard Dad call.
“Three kids,” the guard announced.
“Let ’em in.” Dad didn’t sound upset, so I felt myself exhale. If it wasn’t a reporter inside, who was it?
Lou grabbed my hand. “She’s here,” he whispered.
Jeremy hung back. “I’m going to wait out here,” he said. The guard moved out of the way, and Lou and I walked into Dad’s room.
She looked more beautiful than she had in the dressing room chair. Free of the pancake makeup, her skin glowed. She wore a men’s style white shirt and dark jeans. The deep V of her shirt showed off the curve of her neck. Her hair hung in a long, lustrous sheet of auburn down her back. And in her ears, the largest diamonds I’d ever seen. Her nails shone ruby red, filed to points. I could smell her. A faint echo of her perfume surfaced somewhere in my memory. She let out a long, slow breath, as if she was steadying her nerves.
I dug my thumbnail into my finger. A sharp pain radiated out.
Georgia cleared her throat and turned to me. “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “We left things a little awkward. I wasn’t expecting you last night. The way you showed up.” A flicker of distrust crossed her face.
My chest tightened. “What are you doing here?”
Georgia gave me a long look. When she spoke again, her voice was low and husky. “I wanted to see you.” She paused, and I pulled my eyes away from her to look at Dad. His eyes were trained on Georgia, as if he was committing every inch of her to memory.
“I couldn’t sleep. I picked up the phone to call a few times,” she admitted. “Still had your number after all these years.” A pained look crossed her face. “I listened to your mix, Dizzy. It’s amazing. Hearing some of those songs, it was from another lifetime. Made me remember who I used to be.”
There were so many things I wanted to say to her, but they all got stuck somewhere in my throat. We all stared at each other, awkwardly. Georgia frowned. “There are some things I’ve never been able to tell you. It’s why I’m here.”
I stood motionless, waiting for her to continue. She looked at Dad, as if for permission.
“Leaving that day, when you were little, was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She gave a rueful sigh. “I was so young,” she murmured. “I didn’t know what I was doing.”
Lou stiffened beside me. “You weren’t that young. Lots of people have babies when they’re twenty.”
“I didn’t know what I wanted.” She tilted her head, imploring us to see her side of things. “That’s not true,” she corrected herself and glanced at Dad. “I did know.” She sighed.
“To be famous,” I said.
She turned to me, her eyes wide. “No! I wanted to be a singer. That’s all I wanted.”
“Why couldn’t you have done both? Stayed with us and been a singer?”
Georgia pressed her lips together. “I don’t think it works that way. I never could have done what I wanted to do if I’d had a family.” She shook her head adamantly. “This industry takes everything.” When Georgia spoke, her voice sounded far away. “My life rolls along. With or without me. It just keeps going. The records, the tours. Sometimes, it doesn’t feel like I’m in charge at all. I’ve been thinking about you” — she looked at Lou and then me — “for a long time.”
Lou watched her warily.
“When Dizzy showed up, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I’d been planning to come and visit you, but at the last minute, I got cold feet. I never expected —” She broke off and took a breath to collect her thoughts. “I was going to leave. Fly to the next stop and just keep going. Pretend none of you existed.”
I knew it, a little voice inside me said. She doesn’t care.
“But then I listened to Dizzy’s mix. And early this morning, I saw the video you made.” Her voice dropped. I waited for anger, for her to glare at me. But she didn’t. She looked at me like her eyes had been opened. “What you did was brave.”
Dad half-choked on a cough. “That contract —” he started.
Georgia pulled a thick sheaf of papers out of the bag that sat beside her on the floor. “You mean this?” She plunked it on the bed at Dad’s feet. “That’s the original. It’s been voided, or nullified, or whatever the lawyers do to make it not exist anymore.” Regret tinged her words. “I never should have agreed to it.”
Dad looked at her, confused. He tried to reach for it, but the IV tube wouldn’t let him. Lou grabbed it instead and passed it to him. Across the front, a red stamp of NULL. Dad leafed through it. Every page had the same thing. “It’s what I should have done a long time ago.” She looked at each of us, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to explain. “But I was too scared.”
“Of us?” Dad
asked.
“Of what it would mean.” Georgia looked at him, sadly. “Singing is all I have. But I’m realizing, I can’t keep living this way. I need more. Something that’s mine. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, before we even went on the road. Making it my last tour was the first step.” She looked tired as she talked. The brightness I’d seen on stage took effort. No one could keep that energy up all the time. “I gave up so much for my career. I want a piece of it back.”
Dad ran a hand over his face. It’s too late, a little voice said in the back of my head. “Ray?” she asked, tilting her head at him.
“It’s not me you need to ask,” he said.
I swallowed. This was what I’d wanted, so why was I hesitating? I thought about how I’d felt when Lou told me Dad was in the hospital. The way my chest had tightened and I’d been willing to bargain anything to make sure he was okay. What if I didn’t get to have both Dad and Georgia in my life? What if it was a trade-off?
I knew hands down who I’d pick.
If I said no to Georgia, pushed her away like she’d pushed us, I could tell the press that the video was a lie; an elaborately photoshopped prank. If Georgia denied it, too, the reporters would disappear. Dad, Lou, and I would fade into obscurity and Georgia could go back to her life and forget about us.
“You’ve said all this before. Ten years ago.” Lou narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “What’s changed?”
“I don’t know if I can explain it. I need a life separate from the Georgia Waters people know. I need something that’s mine.”
Georgia looked at Dad. “I know I can’t turn back time, undo what’s done. I wouldn’t blame you all if you tell me to go.” She took a quick inhalation. None of us said anything. “I was hoping — I wondered if … if there’s a chance we could go forward. Together.” Her words were like a promise, suspended in the air between them. “I’m taking some time off next year. My management’s working on a deal in Vegas. I want to stay in one place for a while. Live normally.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “Well, as normally as I can. My whole life, I’ve been chasing something. I realized I’ll never catch it. And alone —” she shrugged “— what’s the point? I know I made mistakes, big, huge mistakes. But I can’t undo them. I can only go forward.”
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