She laughed, a deep and throaty chuckle, and whispered back, “Only a few hours? Come on, now.”
“Hey, Alison!” Mila’s voice sounded behind them, shattering the lust-bubble that seemed to form around them any time they were alone for even a few seconds.
Alison stepped smoothly past him and into the living room.
“Hey, Mila! Thanks so much for inviting me over tonight.” She paused and looked around the living room. “Wow, I love your house. Can you give me a tour?”
Mila flushed with pride, which in turn caused Troy’s heart to clench with love, watching her as she led Alison off down the hall. The last thing he heard the girl say as they disappeared into the back of the house was, “So, we’re having chili. I hope it’s okay. I’m pretty sure it’s all my brother knows how to cook.”
Ouch, kid. Way to throw me under the bus. Even if it is true.
But then he heard Alison’s reply, and it made him smile. “I love chili. The only thing I know how to make is lasagna, and I don’t even have a one hundred percent success rate.”
Oh, man. That lasagna. Troy was never going to live it down. All told, though, he was perfectly fine with that.
Chapter 26
Alison ran her finger along the spines of the books on Troy’s bookshelves. They were full of well-loved volumes on a wide range of topics and represented a good balance of fiction and non-fiction.
“I bet you never would’ve pegged me as the kind of guy to have a wall full of books in my house.”
She turned to see Troy watching her, the familiar warmth flowing through her that his eyes always sparked.
“Because you work with your hands?”
He shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first to make an assumption like that.”
She grinned. “I like my men with a healthy mix of brains and brawn.”
He stepped closer and brushed her hair back from her face. “So you admit it. You like me.”
“Hey, you two. Get a room. Geez. I’m gone for two minutes to get my scrapbook, and you can’t keep your hands off each other.”
They turned to see Mila standing at the entrance to the living room. Even though her teasing words were disapproving, her tone and expression revealed that her feelings were anything but. She couldn’t have been happier about Troy and Alison getting closer.
“Sorry, sorry,” Alison laughed and nodded to the scrapbook. “I’d love to see it.”
“There’s a ton of stuff I can’t wait to show you.”
Alison followed Mila to the couch and sat down next to her. She understood her excitement all too well. She and her brother had also grown up in a small town, and she’d also been interested in the arts from an early age, and had very few people to share that interest with.
God, if she’d had the opportunity to befriend someone who’d managed to forge a career in the arts? Who was living proof that it was not just the ephemeral stuff of dreams, but a real possibility? It would’ve changed her life.
She could already see Mila blossoming in the short time she’d known her, like a flower that finally found itself bathed in life-giving sunlight.
Alison knew it had nothing to do with Troy being inadequate as a parent—from what she’d seen, and what Mila had told her, he was amazing. But artistic people needed outlets. They needed kindred spirits to socialize with. They’d wilt and die without that.
In fact, far from missing her fancy foods most of all the way she’d anticipated she would, she mainly missed the arts community in New York.
If only there were some way to combine the supportive, family-like social aspect of life in Valentine Bay—not to mention the scenic beauty—with the thriving arts world of New York…that utopian combination would be a literal paradise.
Mila opened the scrapbook and flipped the pages slowly, telling little anecdotes about some of the pictures, and sneaking shy little glances at Alison every once in a while to gauge her reaction.
Alison was honored that the girl valued her approval so much. It was sweet, and she only hoped that she could always live up to the pedestal that Mila had obviously placed her on.
When Mila turned the next page, Alison saw something she recognized. “Hey, I know that costume!” she cried, a broad grin taking over her face.
“Oh, that’s nothing. Just my Halloween costume from two years ago. No big deal,” Mila stammered as she rushed to turn the page as quickly as she could.
Alison placed her hand flat across the scrapbook page spread, preventing Mila from flipping over to the next page. “Not so fast, lady. You dressed up as my character from Secrets, Secrets as your Halloween costume?”
Mila’s cheeks were flaming red and she’d curled her body inward in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. “Yeah, I mean. I guess. It was no big thing.”
Alison slipped her arms around the girl’s hunched shoulders. “It’s a big deal to me! It’s a huge honor!”
Mila studied her face for about ten seconds, after which she apparently decided that Alison was being sincere and not patronizing. She let a small half smile escape and said, “Okay. Thanks. I mean, I love that show. Time and Space, your duet with Amalie’s character, is kind of like…my favorite song of all time. Like, sometimes I sing Amalie’s part and then let the song just play on your part and I pretend we’re singing together.”
“Um, Mila,” Troy interjected from the kitchen where he was stirring the chili, his voice shot through with thick threads of concern, “maybe that’s…just a little bit too much information.”
Alison jumped in, hoping that she could jump in before the remark could take hold and hurt Mila’s feelings too badly. “Don’t be silly, Troy. It’s not too much at all. I used to do the exact same thing on every cast recording album I ever owned when I was growing up. And the phrase ‘when I was growing up’ is one hundred percent code for ‘I actually still do it all the time.’”
Troy laughed, turning back to the chili on the stove. “All right, all right. I’ll stick to making chili and building houses. Obviously I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Alison turned back to Mila, squeezing her shoulder companionably. “He doesn’t get it,” she explained. “He’s not a show person like we are.”
Mila’s head shot up at those words, her eyes wide and vulnerable. “We are?” she repeated.
“Absolutely,” Alison affirmed. “We are. All the way.”
Mila grinned. She opened her mouth and seemed to be on the verge of saying something before losing her nerve and closing it again.
“What?” Alison asked.
Mila took a deep breath. “Well… I was just wondering. My show choir recital is next week. Do you think that maybe…?” She trailed off hopefully.
“Definitely. I’d be honored. Then, ten years from now, I’ll be able to tell people I saw you perform when you were still in middle school.”
Mila laughed. “And they’ll be super jealous.”
Alison joined in her laughter. “You know it, girl.”
Chapter 27
“I’m not the one up there doing anything. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” Troy fidgeted in the middle school auditorium seat as he waited for the lights to go down and the program to begin. He didn’t think he could’ve been wound any tighter if Mila had been performing at Carnegie Hall.
“It’s always worse to watch someone you care about take a big risk than it is to do it yourself. There’s no control. You’re just as invested in the outcome, but you haven’t done any of the preparation.”
Troy let out a long breath. “So, I guess this was how it was for my family watching me play in big games?”
Alison nodded. “I’d imagine so. Now you know how it feels to be on both sides of the equation.”
He groaned. “Oh, God. I’d rather be out there swinging the bat. No question. This is miserable.”
She laid a hand lightly on his arm. “You say that now, but you’ve only lived through half of the experience. The nerves part.”
“What’s the other part?”
“The pride at your loved one’s victory. It’s pretty spectacular.”
“Yeah. I bet.”
The lights came down at that moment, but before the curtain rose, Alison leaned over and whispered, “You won’t have to. Before the night’s over, you’re going to feel it. I can guarantee you that.”
Troy’s fists clenched as the students walked out on stage. His gut clenched when Mila appeared.
She walked confidently, her shoulders thrown back and chin held high. He could only see the evidence of her nerves in her pinched lips and tense fingers because he knew her so well—had known her since birth. To the average audience member, she was the picture of poise. But to Troy’s practiced eye, the evidence of her tension was obvious, and it made his heart clench for her.
All Troy wanted to do was protect her. He lived to protect the people he loved, that was all that mattered to him. Mila…and now Alison.
Yeah, he had to admit it to himself. There was really no question. He was falling in love with Alison. In fact, he may have already fallen. And one of the ways he knew that for sure was that he was now seized with just as fierce a protective instinct toward her as he felt toward Mila.
It was a need to shield her from anything bad that might happen, from any hurt, no matter how slight. An impulse to take all of that onto himself rather than let it befall her. And it wasn’t just a passing thought, it was damn near a compulsion.
He knew that if he ever saw Alison in the same situation that he was seeing Mila in right then—on the precipice of either incredible greatness or spectacular failure—he’d feel the same thing he felt in that moment: utter terror.
That fear lasted exactly as long as Mila’s visible evidence of tension did: until the moment she opened her mouth and started singing. Troy saw the instant of transformation, and it took his breath away. One minute, her shoulders were tense and her mouth was pinched, and the next instant the music swept her up and carried her away, and she was lost to it fully.
When she took her first step into the dance routine for the opening number, there was no tension in her muscles, no hesitation, no stiffness in her facial expression.
She’d felt the fear and walked right out on that stage anyway, stood there, faced the crowd, and kicked the fear’s butt.
He’d never been prouder.
“See?” Alison’s whisper in his ear pulled him from his near-trance state.
Never tearing his eyes from Mila onstage, he leaned his head closer to her and whispered, “What?”
Alison covered his hand with hers. “The pride high. It’s pretty spectacular, right?”
He turned his hand over so that they were palm to palm and wrapped his fingers around hers. “You were spot on.”
They sat like that throughout the show, holding hands and giving each other little squeezes when Mila did something particularly well.
Troy felt a little twinge of disappointment when Ms. Miller, the show choir director, stepped to the microphone, he assumed to thank the audience for coming and announce the final number. He didn’t know if that disappointment stemmed more from knowing that the experience of watching his sister shine onstage was almost at an end…or knowing that he’d soon have to let go of Alison’s hand. He wasn’t thrilled about either one.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Monica Miller, the choral director here at Valentine Bay Middle School. First of all, I’d like to thank all of the parents, family, and friends who’ve come out to support our students tonight. You’re the reason we’ve worked so hard to give a good show tonight, and you’ve been a great audience. So give yourselves a hand!”
When the applause died down, Ms. Miller stepped back up to the mic. “Now, this is the point of the program that we normally perform our finale number. And we will get to that, in just one moment. But, first, we have a very special treat for one of our choir members. For all of us, really.”
Troy could see the kids in the choir exchange puzzled looks and some of them were even whispering to each other. Clearly this was a surprise, in the truest sense of the word.
“We are extremely fortunate to have a luminary of the New York stage in our midst here tonight. She contacted me earlier in the week and let me know that one of our students was a particular fan of the beautiful ballad Time and Space, which is a duet from her Tony-winning turn in Secrets, Secrets. And she graciously offered to give a special rendition of that number, sung as a duet with our own student.
“Please put your hands together for Broadway’s own Alison Bartholomew and our own Mila Valentine.”
Troy had been so focused on Mila’s face as her teacher talked…the gradually widening eyes, the tightly clasped hands under her chin…that he hadn’t even noticed Alison had risen from her seat and made her way to the front until he saw her walk out on the stage.
His heart felt as if it were being squeezed by a steel band as he watched the drama unfold on the stage. Mila’s face had drained of all color. When her teacher motioned for her to step forward, she stood glued in place. Even when Alison turned from the mic and held her hand out for Mila to join her, the girl looked as though she’d sprouted roots from the bottom of her feet that went as deep as the center of the earth, preventing her from moving even an inch.
God, am I going to throw up right now? Is that happening?
He wanted to fly out of his chair, storm the stage, wrap Mila up in his arms and take her out of there. Take her home. He could comfort her there. Protect her, shelter her. Just like he’d done after his parents’ accident, he could stand as a barrier between her and all the terrible things that the world might throw at her.
But it wasn’t possible. There was no way to get to her without absolutely and utterly embarrassing her. That was not only the last thing he’d ever want to do to her, but the last thing she’d ever forgive him for.
He had no choice but to just sit there in his seat, powerless to do anything but watch it play out in front of him, for better or worse.
Just as he was about to jump right out of his skin, Alison turned and strode over to Mila. She put her arm around her, leaned down, and whispered something in her ear. Troy didn’t know what she said, but what he could see was that it did the trick immediately. Mila relaxed her shoulders and a small smile even appeared on her face.
Alison straightened and extended her hand, which Mila took, and the two of them walked to the front of the stage together. Ms. Miller handed each of them a mic and then the opening strains of Time and Space filled the auditorium. Troy recognized it immediately. He’d heard it often enough from Mila’s room.
Alison sang the first verse and, as lovely as it was, Troy just wanted it to be over with. He wanted Mila’s part to get there so this high-wire tension would be over.
Alison’s verse passed and the chorus arrived. Mila came in strong and, to Troy’s ears at least, nailed the harmony. He relaxed, but just a little. He knew the next part, the second verse, was the moment of truth—Mila’s solo. That would be where the teenager’s performance would be made or broken, and what would determine whether tonight would live in her memory as the biggest triumph of her life so far…or a heartbreak that might take her years to get over. If she ever did.
The moment arrived, and Troy unconsciously scooted forward in his seat as Mila raised the microphone, took a breath, and opened her mouth.
It was perfection. Her sweet, high, bird-like voice filled the auditorium, all the way to the back wall. The entire room was entranced. Troy could feel it in the breathless energy crackling in the air.
He wasn’t surprised. It was Valentine Bay. Mila was their girl almost as much as she was his. Every single person in this room had known her since she was born, and they all wanted the best for her, probably nearly as much as he did.
Mila’s verse ended and the crowd didn’t even wait for the second chorus to run through and bring the song to a close before springing to their feet as one, erupting in th
underous applause, punctuated by foot stomping and whistling and cries of, “Yeah, Mila!” and “That’s our girl!”
Midway through that final chorus, Alison and Mila abandoned even trying to continue. They stood there for a moment, Mila staring wonderingly at the crowd, flushed with the pleasure of her accomplishment. Alison walked over and whispered in her ear again and then Mila stepped to the front of the stage and took a bow.
The crowd erupted in a fresh wave of applause and cheers. Troy saw Alison slip quietly off the stage. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he was the only one who saw it. Every other eye in the room was focused on his little sister, and Troy couldn’t have been prouder.
Chapter 28
Troy stood with Alison in the lobby as one person after another came up to congratulate her on a beautiful performance. He felt proud and lucky to be the one next to her, holding her hand, basking in the reflected glory. He was in awe of not only her talent, but the grace she displayed with each person she talked to.
“Troy! Alison!” Mila’s voice was nothing but pure joy and excitement as she rushed across the lobby toward them and Troy reacted on instinct. He held his arms wide for her.
As soon as he did it, he realized he’d probably messed up. This new teen version of Mila would probably be utterly humiliated by the idea of hugging her big brother in public.
But before he could move to snatch his arms back down to his sides, Mila launched herself into them and stayed there for a long moment, her arms tight around his neck.
He held her close and put his hand on the back of her head as he drank it in. He forgot for a moment that she was thirteen years old. In that moment, she was just a little girl. His kid sister, giving him a big hug. Depending on him and adoring him just like she used to.
Was it possible that there was a drug that could make a person feel that high? Troy kind of doubted it.
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