by Aly Stiles
“Why are you crying?” Brooklyn asks, her face draped in concern.
Naomi wipes her sleeve over her eyes and shakes her head. “I guess… I’m just sad. I miss my mommy.”
Brooklyn nods in understanding and scoots her chair closer to Naomi’s. “Can I show you something else?” she whispers, her face inches from Naomi’s.
Naomi looks up, uncertain. “I guess so.” Before she can react, Brooklyn throws her tiny arms around the older girl and squeezes as hard as she can. Her face scrunches from the effort, small grunts escaping from her. After a surprised flinch, Naomi settles into the embrace and locks her arms around Brooklyn’s little body in return. They sit like that for several seconds, neither of them speaking but somehow sharing an instant bond that no one outside of their mini universe can understand.
My own eyes burn as I watch, my heart aching and soaring at the same time. Mason rests his hand on my shoulder, and I swat at my eyes before crossing an empathizing look to him.
“This is called a bear hug,” Brooklyn says quietly at Naomi’s ear. “You know why it’s called a bear hug?”
Naomi sniffs and shakes her head.
“Because the bear scares all the sad away.”
CHAPTER 22
JULIAN
I don’t know who’s more nervous: Naomi or me. My stomach has been in knots all day. Even our typical snarky exchanges have been reduced to a few quips and well-placed eye-rolls.
I walk Naomi and her guitar to the green room where the artists are gathering to check in with the organizers and wait for their turn to perform. There’s still an hour until the showcase begins, and from the program, Naomi is slotted to go fourth.
She looks amazing standing at the door with her guitar. Hadley helped her with her makeup and styled her hair into soft waves on one side and a tight braid from front to back on the other. I legit gasped when she came out of her room with her cool hair, flowy green shirt, and ripped black skinny jeans. It’s all so her. A snarky, kickass angel.
The only thing missing is the confidence in her eyes.
“You got this, Omi,” I say, bending over to search her face. I brace my hands on her arms and hold her steady.
“But what if I screw up?” she asks, her voice wavering.
“You can’t screw up. You can forget the words, play a wrong chord, or burst into tears in the middle of the song and run off the stage.” She makes a face at that one. “But you can’t screw up, because you’ve already aced this just by being here.”
She looks away and stares at the floor.
“Hey, you listening to me?” I ask, gently tugging her arms until she looks up. She does and meets my gaze with her giant green eyes. “You got this, Naomi Hayes. You’ve already overcome more than all those other kids in there. This?”—I wave my hand around us—“Is freaking chocolate cake compared to what you’ve overcome.”
She nods, still unconvinced. “I wish you could come with me,” she whispers, clutching my sleeve.
I sigh, an ache spreading through my chest. That constant protectiveness surges inside me, desperate to fight her battle and block anything that could hurt her. But anything worth having will take a piece of your soul. I can help her find the strength she needs, but the struggle has to come from her.
“I know. But I’m going to be right down there in the audience. Hadley, Viv, and Oliver too. We’re going to be cheering so loudly it’s gonna be ridiculously embarrassing for you.”
“You better not,” she mutters.
I grin and shrug. “Try and stop me.”
She groans, finally stepping back.
“Just remember to picture everyone naked,” I add.
“Ew, gross!” Naomi shudders. “Goodbye, Uncle J.”
I clasp my hands against my chest in fake enthusiasm. “Wait until you see the posters we made!”
Her eyes narrow. “Hilarious.”
“Puffy paint, and glitter, and those little pom-poms,” I say, still facing her as I retreat backward.
“Goodbye, Uncle J.” She shoos me away, but I see it before she turns. The tiniest hint of a smile.
She’s got this. We’ve got this.
My leg bounces uncontrollably in my seat, and Hadley shoots a hand over to still it.
“You’re shaking the whole row,” she hisses.
“Sorry.” I lean forward instead, steepling my fingers in front of my mouth and nose. How many stages have I played? How many screaming fans? Radio interviews, television spots… and never have I been as nervous as I am right now.
“She’s going to do great,” Hadley whispers. She threads her arm around mine and drags me back in the seat.
I sigh and try to take a deep breath.
A commotion at the end of our row draws our attention, and we look over to find Viv apologizing to awed face after awed face as she squeezes past them. Several cover their mouths and bounce way more than my knee ever did. She finally reaches us and drops to the empty seat between Oliver and me.
“What are you doing?” I ask. “This is your event. Aren’t you supposed to be up there in that throne?” I motion toward the judges’ table where an absurd red chair that looks suspiciously like a throne is crammed between several occupied normal chairs.
Viv grunts. “Yeah, I’m not sitting in that. Besides, that’s for Genevieve. Not me.”
I shake my head with a smirk. “Don’t you have to judge?”
Viv huffs a laugh. “Nope. I’m just a figurehead. I don’t actually have a say in who wins the scholarships. Which reminds me…”
Her amusement fades as she studies my face. “Look, I invited Naomi to participate in this because I think she deserves to be here. Her love of music and dedication is exactly what this event and charity is about. Having said that, I want to warn you that the likelihood of her winning tonight is slim to none. That’s not at all a statement on her talent or drive. It’s just, most of these kids have been training their entire lives, not just for a few weeks like Naomi.”
I let out a breath. “I know. I assumed as much. I’m just thrilled she put in so much effort and is brave enough to get on stage. I already told her she won just by showing up tonight.”
Hadley’s arm tightens around me, and I reach up to cover her fingers with mine.
Viv scans me for a moment and smiles. “Good. Then, maybe now’s a good time to talk to you about something else.”
I wait as she gathers her words. She glances back at the stage before focusing on me again. “She probably won’t win a scholarship tonight, but I’ve been very impressed by Naomi and her drive. She has a ton of natural talent, and if she’s come this far in just a few weeks, I can only imagine how amazing she’ll be in a few years.” She draws in a deep breath. “With your permission I’d like to talk to her about mentoring her directly as she pursues music.
“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” she rushes out, lifting her hand.
Yeah, pretty sure she doesn’t because right now all I’m thinking is don’t make a fool of yourself and start laughing and crying like a lunatic. I force a serious expression as I wait for her to continue.
“I know you have a ton of industry experience as well. This is not to take away from anything you’re going to teach her. It’s just, being a woman in this industry comes with a unique set of challenges, and I thought, I don’t know, maybe she’d benefit from having someone else who’s been through it to guide her.”
I glance back at Hadley who’s suppressing a smile behind me. She must have known about this. Wait, of course she knew about this.
“Think about it and let me know,” she says. “I won’t suggest it to Naomi unless you’re on board.”
I nod gravely. “I see. Well, that’s very kind of you.” I could have pulled off my joking frosty reaction if my girlfriend didn’t smack my arm in that moment. I shoot a glare at her, and she narrows her eyes at me.
“Fine,” I draw out with a sigh, turning back to Viv. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to think about it. Vi
v, I happen to know for a fact that Naomi would absolutely love to have you as a mentor. In fact, my only concern is that she’ll pass out when you propose it. Preteen fangirling is no joke.”
Viv snorts a laugh, and I flinch at the double smack I get from both sides. “Hey!” I cry.
“Oh, it’s starting!” Viv says.
She reaches over for Oliver’s hand, and I lace mine with Hadley’s. Hadley squeezes my fingers, probably sensing my nerves have returned in full blast.
Applause erupts from around the room as the host for the evening takes the stage in a gown that looks more appropriate for the Academy Awards than a children’s concert, but whatever.
“Welcome, everyone, to the first ever Genevieve Fox Young Artist Showcase!” the young woman sing-songs with a grand hand gesture.
Viv grunts beside me. “I begged them to just call it the Young Artist Showcase, but no,” she mutters. “Apparently, we have to be obnoxious about it.”
I toss her a grin as Hadley snickers beside me. Hey, at least she’s not sitting on the throne.
The host makes a few more embellished, over-the-top statements about Gen, her resplendent career, and her vast and munificent generosity, while Viv sinks further in her seat at each one. It’s kind of hilarious, actually. Even Oliver is cracking up to her left. I’m glad to see he gets smacked as often as I do.
Finally, we get to the first act, and my amusement fades. The girl is maybe nine, and belts out a classic diva ballad laced with dramatic runs the original diva probably couldn’t pull off. I exchange a look with Hadley, and she squeezes my hand again in a gesture that feels more like “we knew she wasn’t going to win” than “don’t worry, she still has a shot.” After the next guy crushes a Steinway with some ten-minute piano concerto, I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t encouraged Naomi to do this. Man, I hope she isn’t able to see the acts coming before her.
The third is a teenage girl who plays violin like she shot out of her mom holding one. “Why do these kids even need scholarships?” I mumble to Hadley. “Pretty sure they’re going to get a free ride wherever they want to go.”
Hadley gives me a commiserating look and pulls my hand to her lips. “She’s gonna do great,” she whispers.
I can’t breathe as Violin Girl absorbs the raucous applause and bows like she trained for years in bowing as well. Shit, I didn’t even think to review that with Naomi. Bowing isn’t exactly part of my experience on stage unless it’s done in an ironic, dramatic-end-to-a-show kind of way. These kids are doing old timey royal court bows. May I present the Duchess of Whatever to the Lady of Whatever, mi-ladies.
“I didn’t talk to Naomi about bowing,” I hiss to Hadley. She must not be as concerned when she gives me a stern look and motions back to the stage.
My breath catches in my throat when the most beautiful twelve-year-old girl on this planet crosses the stage with a Martin guitar in her hands. The spotlight follows her every step, creating a halo around her blond braid and shoulder-length waves. Damn, she looks transcendent. She really does look like an angel.
Somewhere people shift in their seats, glance at a program, cough out a tickle, but I’m frozen in a vacuum. Just a direct tunnel from my seat in row seventeen to the girl on the stool in the center of a giant stage that doesn’t deserve to host her.
She glances up nervously and adjusts the mic that’s already been adjusted to her height. Where the other kids displayed pretentious poise from years of being coached on how to smile and look composed, Naomi appears terrified as she scans the crowd. I know from experience she’s seeing mostly shadows, maybe a few strangers in the front rows. Her gaze rests on the judges’ table, and my heart thumps loudly in my ears.
“Come on, kiddo. You got this,” I whisper.
She taps the mic, and I wince at the amateur move. This is totally my fault. We spent so much time on the music, perfecting the melody and chord structure, I didn’t even think to coach her on the actual monumental task of performing it. Up until this moment, her only experience has been playing for Hadley and me in our living room.
“Um…” She flinches at the sound of her own voice and draws back. Clearing her throat, she surveys the audience again with wide, terrified eyes. Her foot slips off the stool and plants on the stage like she’s ready to bolt.
“Fuck,” I mutter. I’m tensing to go rescue her when Hadley grips my arm and holds me in place.
“Let her do it,” she whispers. “Remember who that girl is.”
I swallow my panic and force my attention back to the stage. Naomi props herself back on the stool and draws in a deep breath we can feel in the audience. She blinks a few times before finally leaning toward the mic.
“So, a year ago I lost my mom,” she begins quietly, averting her gaze to the stage. “I felt like part of me died too. In fact, there were a lot of days when I wished I could have gone with her. I thought…” Her words come out garbled and she wipes her sleeve over her eyes. I clench mine shut against the burn.
“I thought there was nothing left to live for. Nothing to hope for. Kids around me always seemed to laugh and have fun but I just wanted to disappear and be nothing because being nothing is so much better than hurting all the time.”
Hadley grips my hand as tears drip down my cheeks. They ruin the makeup on Naomi’s face too and she sniffs. “Sorry,” she mumbles into the mic with an embarrassed laugh. She turns her head and swats at her eyes.
After a few seconds, she straightens on her stool.
“But then I went to live with my uncle. It wasn’t easy at first. I don’t think he believed things were ever going to get better for him either. Like me, I don’t think he liked living a whole lot, but then things started to change. I started to think he wasn’t as messed up as he thought he was and maybe that meant I wasn’t either. Even though I made him mad all the time…” She chuckles, and I release a choked laugh as well. “He didn’t give up on me. He kept trying to make things better even if he didn’t always realize he was doing it.”
She draws in a ragged breath. “We both lived in the bad days for so long that I think we were afraid to hope for more.” She stares out at the audience, and I swear she’s looking right at me even though there’s no way that’s possible. “The thing my Uncle Julian taught me is that life isn’t about always living in the good days. It’s about holding on long enough to believe the better days will come.”
She blinks away her tears and clutches her guitar.
“This is a song my uncle and I wrote called ‘Better Days.’”
Four minutes.
I sit paralyzed for four whole minutes in row seventeen seat H of the Rudwell Hunter Center for the Performing Arts. Hadley and Viv are crying around me. In fact, I don’t think there’s a dry eye in the house as that amazing girl works her way through a song neither of us could have imagined two months ago. But I don’t worry about any of that. No, my heart is on that stage, beating and bleeding with a little girl who changed my life, maybe saved it as much as she credits me with saving hers.
She’s right. I didn’t believe in better days. I didn’t believe in any damn thing when Allan dropped her off at my place.
Now, I’ve grown and matured into an entirely different man. The man my sister probably always hoped I’d be, even if she never could have guessed it’d be her daughter who’d transform me.
When she finishes her song and glances shyly at the audience, I can’t even join the rest of the crowd that jumps to its feet, whistling and shouting in the first standing ovation of the night.
I can’t move, frozen in a future I never saw coming.
Hadley lowers back to her seat and wraps her arms around me, pulling tight. I feel the warmth of her tears through my shirt, the love I never deserved filling me to overflowing.
Viv drops to the other side and grabs my arm, shaking me from my haze.
One look at her face, and I know what she’s thinking. It’s the same thing that’s been running through my head since the end of Naomi�
��s speech. I swallow the lump, and force my gaze to hers, our eyes finishing the conversation started by our hearts.
“That’s it,” Viv whispers. “That’s our band name.”
I nod and wipe my eyes.
“Better Days.”
EPILOGUE
Three months later…
HADLEY
“They just pulled in. They’re coming!” I call out.
I let the curtain drop over the window facing the parking lot. Turning back to the small gathering of our closest friends, I motion for them to stay quiet. So what if technically I broke into Julian’s apartment. I mean, it’s not B&E when the person gives you a key to their place, right?
The second I got the text from Julian that the guardianship was official, I called in the reserves to meet me here. I don’t know what I would have done with the cake if things hadn’t gone well today, but thankfully I don’t have to worry about that. I’m giddy at the thought of getting to hug the two of them—once they recover from the shock, of course.
We hear scraping at the door, and crap. I forgot to lock it again once we were all inside.
“The door’s unlocked. That’s weird.”
Julian’s muffled voice carries through from outside, and Viv and I exchange an oops look. “Stay back, okay?” he says to Naomi. Double crap. Good thing he doesn’t carry a gun or someone would probably be getting shot in the next two seconds.
He pushes the door open, and I flip on the lights.
“Surprise!” we yell for the second time in four months.
Julian recoils, and Naomi screams behind him. He stares at us in confusion before his gaze finally finds me across the room. He rubs a hand over his head, clearly trying to catch his breath.
“Geez,” he mutters, shaking his head.
Everyone laughs and rushes in for the congratulations. I hang back and let them have their moment, enjoying the animation on Julian’s face as he absorbs the good wishes and recounts the court proceeding. I especially love how he straight-up boasts about being the official guardian of Naomi Hayes. He’s already been talking to me about starting the adoption process as well to make their little family even more permanent.