“Wow, sounds horrible.” Faith’s tone was dry as dust.
“I know, sounds wonderful, right? But sometimes I just want to move. I lived over thirty years without him. I think I can make it from the living room to the bedroom just fine.”
“That suffocating?” Faith asked. It’s what she’d always thought – commitment like that taking everything you were and swallowing it whole. A love like that being all-consuming, destroying what stood in its way. Always collateral damage.
“Not suffocating, just overwhelming. Sometimes being married and pregnant isn’t anything like you see in the movies.” Madison’s face got wistful, and her hand unknowingly traveled to her belly. “Which is one of the best surprises of my life.”
Faith remembered that too, feeling staggered and amazed. But not all songs were happy, not all chords played in perfect tune. It had been a decade since she’d been that mixed up, or since she’d wanted to be. That song was vintage, good for lonely nights when she couldn’t sleep but no place for it at lunch.
“What surprises you?” Madison asked.
This was a question Faith could answer. “The feeling of rightness when I pick up a microphone. The joy at crossing things off my checklist. The taste of fruit picked straight from the field. Heck, the fact that people still know my name after all these years surprises me all the time.”
“You haven’t been around long enough for people to tire of you.”
“You know I have. I was sixteen when we formed Attitunes. Thirteen years ago went on our first tour, opening for Jewel. Takes more than a decade to make an overnight success.” Faith still had a framed ticket stub from that first show next to her bed; it didn’t pay to forget how long she’d been walking this road.
“Attitunes.” Madison laughed. “I forgot you were in that West Coast girl group. Tunes with Tude.”
“You’re probably the only one.”
“Let me see. You were the cheery Girl Next Door. And there was sad emo Skater Girl. And the saucy Country Honey.”
“Saucy?” Faith teased.
“And the naïve Beach Babe.” Madison bit her lip. “That’s only four, I’m missing one.”
“The fashionable Urban Sista,” Faith offered. Her former best friend of the lot of them.
“Yes, that’s right! And the song. What was that song called?”
“Pucker Up,” Faith volunteered with an eye roll. Though she shouldn’t knock it – that song had been her first foray into songwriting. It started out as Batter Up, and the girls decided they could do a little bit better than that. She and Maya had taken so much pride in fixing it; it’s what put both of them on their writing paths.
“How could I have forgotten?” Madison laughed. “That music video was everywhere when that song came out. Do you remember we met back then?”
It was Faith’s turn to laugh. “Of course. You were in Sally on the Rocks, my favorite decade-defining movie. I was so starstruck by you and Keagan Mitchell I’m not sure I said a word.” She’d wanted to be like the romantic hero in the movie, so full of optimism and hope that it truly defined the person she became. The cheerful one.
“The great silence of fame,” Madison murmured. “Here, this is where we’re going. Tapas await!”
“When are you going to tell me?” Dustin asked his niece as they walked down the street.
“Tell you what?”
“Why your hair looks like it got in a fight.”
Melody picked up a strand and looked at it. “I went to a party last weekend. Didn’t think it would take so long for the purple steaks to wash out. Maybe I’m stuck with them – what do you think?”
Dustin shook his head in amusement. “I never would have guessed you were the one I’d have this conversation with.”
“Harmony doesn’t want to streak her hair blue anymore. She wants to go rainbow ombre. She could definitely pull it off.”
“Boys,” he murmured, “why couldn’t you have been boys?” Melody punched him in the shoulder before leaning in for a hug. They both knew he didn’t mean it.
“Boys or girls, since when do kids make life easy?”
It was the familiar retort, but the smile slipped off of Dustin’s face. This week he couldn’t handle it. This week he was reminded how his life was too normal, too simple, too damn easy.
“You’re allowed to be sad, you know.”
His eyes snapped to hers in disbelief, anger not far behind. “Don’t be mad,” Melody said in a quiet voice. “Dad didn’t tell me anything; your secret’s safe. But come on, Uncle Dust, you’re always sad this time of year. Like me.”
His arm tightened around her shoulders. “I don’t want you to ever be sad.”
She shrugged, wisdom beyond her years in her eyes. “Sad happens. Doesn’t mean happy can’t happen too.” She grinned, and her eyes turned impish. “Here’s the place we’re having lunch.”
He snorted his opinion. “Tapas to the Beat? Seriously?”
She giggled. “See, happy. Look how easy that was. We’ll sit outside; don’t worry.”
Dustin glanced at the building with distaste. But he wasn’t preoccupied enough to miss the way Melody’s face lit up as the waiter walked by. “Who’s that?” he asked nonchalantly as they sat.
“Huh?”
“That waiter. You know him?”
“That’s Eric. He’s who I’m gonna share my home-cooked meals with.” She met his stormy eyes again. “See, told ya – sad and happy can coexist. Even this week.” She waited for him to say something. When he didn’t, she added, “He’s nice, you’ll see.”
He eyed the lanky, dark-haired boy with the dimpled grin. Dustin remembered nice – that had been him once upon a time. Eleven years ago, not even legal, serving drinks, charm, and anything else he could get away with. Quick to smile, quick to laugh, quick to other things.
“I don’t like it,” he mumbled with a look at his menu.
Melody waved that away with an offhand gesture. “You don’t like anything. Especially boys. Good thing you’re not the one that has to.”
“You mean Peter?”
Melody shook her head and smirked. “I mean me.” How did they grow up so fast?
“Do you eat here often?” Faith asked as she peered over her menu at Madison.
“Used to. Trevor’s sister went vegan for a few months, before she realized she could not live without cheese, and this was the only restaurant we could ever agree on. She swears by the mushroom quiche and gazpacho. Oh, and the white truffle popcorn.”
“You remembered I was vegan,” Faith said.
“This time – pregnancy brain hasn’t stripped all of my memories. You aren’t the kind of vegan that will begrudge a pregnant woman fried cheese and meat, are you? Because the kid in here, not vegan.”
Faith laughed. “If I waved away every meat eater, I’d have even less lunch dates than I do now.”
Madison’s tone changed. “I used to be like you, you know.”
Faith looked up, uneasy, but her smile never wavered. “Picky. Busy. Single.”
Madison smiled. “Lonely.”
She was not ready to go there, not without distance from this week. “Well, with that one in there, not sure that’s something you’re ever going to be again.”
The wattage on Madison’s smile turned up a few thousand degrees. Any other week and Faith’s would have grown to match without hesitation. This week it took more effort, fighting around the stab of longing and pain she could never completely erase. “A truer statement has never been said.” Madison patted her belly. “Trevor wants a girl, but I’d like a boy. The last one that crashed into my life wasn’t so bad, and if he’s anything like his daddy, he’ll do just fine.”
Faith looked down weakly, cursing herself that she wasn’t able to easily meet her eyes or share her joy. She could do this – she did it every damn day of her life. There shouldn’t be anything different today. She was practically daring the universe to show her there was anything different about today.<
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Madison’s touch shook her from her thoughts. “When you’re ready, you can talk to me. I might understand.” Faith gaped, not sure what to say, afraid she was that easy to read, before Madison’s face changed again, from concerned to impish. “Do you see that girl sitting at the table outside? The one with the purple streaks in her hair. How long before you think she comes to talk to us?”
Faith looked across the restaurant and felt the air knocked out of her, a kick in the gut from the universe taking her ill-advised dare. Sitting across from the young blonde was the man that had been haunting her for ten years. Older, possibly a bit wiser, but the same face. He smiled suddenly, a slash of humor, and she almost became undone. Dustin.
“Mel, did you see who’s inside?” Eric asked as he set down their water.
“No. Who?” She turned to look through the window. Eric leaned over close and pointed; Dustin tried not to tell the kid to step back a few yards. Melody’s squeal of delight had Dustin’s attention shifting back from the boy to his niece. “Shut up!”
“Who is it?” Dustin asked, leaning over to follow their gazes.
“Madison freaking Duncan. Purple Purpose eats here!” Her eyes turned to Eric’s. “Have you met her before? Does she come here often? What’s she like?”
Eric answered, but Dustin didn’t hear a word – his world was reeling. Because sitting across from the pregnant actress was the woman he’d spent ten years trying to forget. He closed his eyes and gripped the table, hoping his mind was playing tricks on him. He’d seen her in the magazine, heard her voice on the radio – it was just his overactive imagination trying to wish her into existence. It had to be.
“That’s Faith West having lunch with her too!”
Dustin groaned. “And how do you know about Faith West?” His voice was much harsher than necessary.
Melody was so excited her eyes didn’t even narrow at his tone. “I know you banned us from listening to Attitunes or buying their CDs when we were younger, but come on, Uncle Dust – that girl is everywhere now. You think I was going to get through college without ever hearing one of her songs? Don’t worry, Gene Autry and Patsy Cline still own my country heart.”
“I just put their order in,” Eric said.
“So, what, about ten minutes with nothing to do?”
“You aren’t going over there, are you?” If Melody had been paying any attention at all, she would have noticed Dustin go pale at the thought.
“I have to,” she said. “When am I going to get another opportunity to gush all over a movie star? Don’t worry. I’ll be really respectful, won’t ask for an autograph or picture, just say my piece and go.”
Dustin’s eyes turned hard. “And what, missy, do you have to say to a movie star that is that important?”
Melody squeezed Eric’s hand as he helped her up from her seat. “I have to tell her how she changed my life.”
“Excuse me.” Faith tried to set her face in a neutral mask, hide the panic and heartbreak she was reeling from, but it was hard. The girl was adorable, even with the crazy purple streaks in her hair.
Madison smiled at her. “Is there something we can do for you?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you, and I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. That’s so silly, right, I mean I don’t even know you, but Prism Fighters is my absolute favorite movie. My sorority had a superhero party last weekend, and I went as Purple Purpose, as you.” A bright smile broke across her face. “I got second place.”
“Congratulations.”
Laughter and calm radiated from the girl like the sun. “Thanks, but I didn’t come over here to say that. I just wanted to tell you how much that movie, and you, mean to me. I’m sure you get this all the time but…” She paused and took a deep breath, a twinge of sadness entering her eyes. Faith’s own pain rose up to meet hers.
“My mother died when I was twelve. Cancer. My dad is… awesome… but I was sad for a really long time, felt like all the time. Like I didn’t know how to Be anything else even though I faked it really well. And then my friends dragged me to your movie, and I don’t know, maybe it’s crazy, but…” She looked at Madison, full of earnest, and Faith had to look away, so much raw emotion calling to her. Her hands itched for a guitar. “Seeing you kicking ass and taking names but still owning how you felt and your pain, it made me feel like I could breathe again. That even when the sadness doesn’t disappear, it doesn’t need to be the most important thing about me. That there’s enough room for happiness too. You showed me a way out of the darkness. And for that I will be forever grateful. That’s what I wanted to say.”
“What’s your name?” Madison asked, voice thick.
“Melody.”
Madison grabbed a pen from her purse, signed her name across her linen napkin, and handed it to Melody. “What are you studying in school?”
“Majoring in psychology. Minoring in music.” She darted her eyes to Faith. Faith could feel them on her but couldn’t meet them. She took the napkin from the girl and signed her name as well. “I’m not nearly any good, but I just love to sing. And I met my boyfriend in class, so it hasn’t treated me too badly.”
A mantra was running through Faith’s head – you’re always nice to your fans, you’re always nice to your fans, you’re always nice to your fans – but it wasn’t doing much good in helping raise her eyes. She felt like her world was crumbling, but why should she care? She’d left Dustin ten years ago – if he wanted to run around with college co-eds, what business was it of hers. She couldn’t imagine him setting foot in a music class, but it had been a long time. People changed; they both had.
Faith squared her shoulders and met the girl’s misty eyes straight on. “Here,” she said, tamping down her jealousy and overcompensating with a wide smile. “Here’s my card. You come by next week, and you can have a tour of the recording studio. I’ll be the judge of your voice. Anyone with purple stripes in her hair looks like she knows a thing or two about performing.”
I was just being nice, Faith thought to herself as she watched the girl walk away in shock. It had nothing to do with the connection to Dustin, nothing to do with the friendly eyes and soul-tugging story. She was nice to her fans; she was always nice to her fans. Faith trembled as she closed her purse with a snap.
“They make a cute couple,” Madison murmured. Faith couldn’t bring herself to look.
“Pregnancy has made you sentimental.”
“It really has. I almost started weeping at her story. Madison Duncan the Ice Queen does not cry.”
Faith couldn’t help but smirk. “You haven’t been the Ice Queen for ages now. Kick-ass superhero on the big screen, alien freedom fighter on the small screen. Geek Queen is more like it.”
“Don’t say that to my husband.” They laughed, and Faith couldn’t help darting her eyes to the window across the room, to the guy who’d have loved to hear the same thing said about his wife. Marriage was not for the faint of heart.
Dustin’s frown was immoveable, etched deeper into his skin every mile he drove. Only the long worn routine of driving home had gotten him there in one piece. His mind had been other places than the road.
He slunk through the screen door, ignoring the irrational urge to slam it as he entered. Peter sat at the oak kitchen table, his eyes lasering onto his brother. Their gazes clashed for a moment before Peter looked away, a small smile directed at the mass of grading before him.
Dustin scowled deeper and grabbed a beer from the fridge, not caring that it was almost midnight. It made a resounding hiss as he popped the top off and let the cap roll along the floor. He downed half the bottle in one gulp and leaned against the counter, content to stay silent and pretend at being unconcerned.
“So how’s my daughter today?” Peter finally asked.
“Fine,” Dustin growled. He could see the edges of Peter’s smile grow but refused to let it rile him up. “I met her boyfriend. Not sure I like the look of him.”<
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Peter glanced his way, eyes shining in amusement. “You don’t like the look of anyone. Eric’s an improvement over the last one.”
Dustin finished his beer and set the bottle on the table with a loud thwack. His nerves were stretched taut, and he needed something to growl at. “You knew she had a boyfriend. And you didn’t tell me.”
Peter shrugged. “She asked me not to. Said she didn’t want to hear the lectures. At least until she knew if he’d stick or not.”
“Oh, he’ll stick.” The way they looked at each other had been too familiar for Dustin’s sanity. “And I don’t lecture. I offer hard-won advice.”
“In a tone my most boorish professor would have been proud of.”
“Well, maybe I wouldn’t lecture so much if people listened to me the first time.” He huffed. “Or didn’t keep things from me,” he added after a pause.
Peter pushed back his chair, tossing down his red pen. He rose and crossed to the fridge to grab a beer. “Secrets are what you want to rail about right now. Really?”
The mild tone of his twin’s voice had Dustin looking up. For the first time in twelve hours he poked at the layer of shock covering his brain and kicked it into gear. “Mel’s already called you,” he murmured, realizing his vast stupidity at thinking he could avoid this conversation.
“Of course she did. The three of us were video-chatting about the best afternoon of her life twenty seconds after Harmony and I walked in the front door after dinner.”
“Of course she did.” Dustin’s voice sounded resigned, even to him. “Ask,” he finally barked.
“I was going to ask how you are, but the frown kind of says it all.” Peter paused for a moment. “How’d she look?”
“Not anything like I remember. And exactly the same.”
“That clears it up.” Peter passed his brother another beer and watched him finish it in one swallow. “Did she see you?”
Dustin shook his head. “No. We were sitting outside, way across the restaurant and the windows were tinted. Good thing she didn’t. I have no idea what I would have said.”
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