by Layne, Sandi
“Got it!”
Public Relations handled for that morning, Mac took a breath and relaxed against the cushioned bench seat. Val leaned against the counter underneath the flat screen television and asked, “All set for today?”
“Yep. You’ve met with the sound engineers?”
“Yep. And I wanted to let y’all know we had a big jump on downloads and social media hits overnight, so that’s a bonus. Misses-Sip went really well.”
Mac felt a smile start somewhere in her chest. “Headlining a brand-new festival was kind of heavy, Val.”
The older woman grinned and pushed off the wall, her phone out and already doing something that was probably media related. “I knew y’all could handle it. And you did.”
“Thanks!”
Val took off to work her managerial magic, setting up the summer concert performances for after the CMA Fest and before Taylor’s wedding. Mac closed her eyes and listened for the backbeat on the bus. It was something she had sort of tuned in to the year before, after she’d overcome her initial reluctance to once again live in a dorm-like situation, even temporarily. There was, she’d learned as a teen, a pulse to residential co-habitation. The rhythms in the Lipstick Mobile, though, were changing.
They had been a group of hungry young women, at the beginning. Eager to show the world they had something special. Something that would make a mark in the industry. A musical voice that was unique and communicative. Their combined talents—and brilliant manager—had been noticed, and she imagined all of them in her mind as if viewing a Keynote presentation on her laptop: The DJ who liked their band’s name. The initial response to their first bit of airtime. The fact that they were an all-girl band at a time in their society where this was a huge plus rather than a mere curiosity. All those things combined to bring them to where they were and all of it added layers to the initial pulse of their band on tour.
Back then, they were single, all of them. Nervous energy, awkward roommate moments, and a slew of Did you do this when you were a kid? conversations comprised the energy of their time in the tour bus. Slowly though, the single ladies found companionship with men who were the harmonies to their melodies, the bass lines to their trebles. The closing beats of their personal relationship songs. Rissa first, with Val’s son Jake and his daughter Emmylou, and then Taylor and Eddie the Superstar Brit. C.C. followed with her D.D., which had made Mac all kinds of happy, to see her friend find new reasons to smile. And Katie Lyn, well, she’d had Madison from the beginning, and the girl had been a delight even if it had been awkward at times, having a preschooler around. Katie Lyn had Alec, now, and Madison was happy, too. Cinnamon’s relationship was the latest, and she and her fellow Nashville Sounds fan Silas were so strong together that it was encouraging.
“My turn,” Mac murmured, scrolling through her Derek album on her phone. From that first pic she’d taken when they’d met at her home to the selfie duet from the Misses-Sip festival only the night before, she had several. He’d taken pics of himself doing this and that at work and she’d done the same, so most of her pictures of him were selfies. And most of them featured that engaging smile that never failed to provoke a response in her.
She missed him. She didn’t have a record of missing folks too much, but she missed Derek Blakemore.
She’d missed her brother, years before. Micah would never be out of her heart or her life, but their parents had tried to keep them apart for some of their formative years to prevent them from causing more mischief. And, perhaps, to avoid large legal scandals. Okay, I’m an adult, now. I can acknowledge it could’ve been a problem. She’d missed him terribly when she’d been sent away. Missed him in a way that was stronger and more deeply wounding than she had missed her parents, her home, her other friends. Friends who had let her go with relative ease, really. As she had done with them.
It could be hard to have friends and have to leave them.
It hurt to care for someone and be away from them.
Which brought her back to Derek Blakemore, Friend of the Dispossessed. Best Man at Andy’s wedding, Businessman. Boyfriend.
Boyfriend was a word that came with its own set of matched luggage, as far as she was concerned.
It was a holiday weekend and she was away. She would always be away, as long as she was doing what she was doing. But she loved it. She loved being a part of something. Was Lipstick Outlaws going to change the world? Not likely, but . . . they had fans. People who were taking a chance on them. Buying t-shirts, downloading music. The band might help to make others a little less lonely, maybe, for a while. Giving them something to smile about, celebrate, enjoy.
Micah helped people as he made them money and helped design video games. He was good at these things. He managed her funds, too. Derek helped people and persuaded others to join him. And she . . .
“I help to give them a rhythm to run on. That’s worth something. It’s a good reason to be gone over the holidays.”
Derek’s face smiled at her, and she touched the live icon in the image so that it moved, and she could hear his recorded voice saying, “You like this?”
“Yeah,” she whispered, smiling at the pic. “I really do.”
“Mac? Have you seen my sticks?”
With a chuckle, Mac abandoned her introspection and pushed herself from the comfortable bench to help C.C. find her drumsticks.
* * *
“Well, where is she? The girl from the band?”
Derek did his level best not to roll his eyes. “Her name is Mac Cunningham, Mom. I didn’t get a chance to ask her to come, because she just got in from doing two concerts this weekend.”
His mother’s face seemed to elongate as she put on her best Tell me more! expression. Derek had learned how to read her faces as a child and had never yet been wrong. “Ah, yes. I heard you went to see her in one?” Avid interest glittered in her blue eyes.
He nodded, resigned and feeling a sick sort of chill in his stomach. “I did, yeah.” He had a feeling she would ask about—
—and there she went. “Did you get to see her backstage? Since you’re dating? Will you get to do that at the CMA Fest?”
“Mom!”
His mother clucked her tongue and slipped her arm through his as she led him in a circuit around the backyard. The Blakemores had a tradition of hosting a shindig on Memorial Day, inviting extended family, friends, and business associates to eat ribs, mesquite chicken, and elaborate variations on Americana picnic standards. His mother didn’t just do fruit salad; she called it ambrosia. She made it herself with only the most select sampling of fresh fruit and homemade whipped cream. Mom was a big fan of doing everything up just so and she really was talented in the kitchen.
But just then, she wasn’t even talking about the food for the barbecue. Her focus was entirely on the up-and-coming new girlfriend and Derek wanted to cringe a little. How would Mira-Mira on the Wall handle such, well, intensity from his parents?
“I went to their website, you know. The Lipstick Outlaws? And I got their album and a t-shirt. She doesn’t sing? Your girlfriend?” His mother sounded disappointed and Derek did roll his eyes.
“She sings, Mom, but being the lead singer for a band is more than just being able to sing. Katie Lyn is the lead and she’s great. Mac says she’s like a church choir alto.”
“I sang alto with my church choir,” his mom remarked with a thoughtful nod. “That works. Well, I hope she can find time for us before the CMA Fest. I’d like to meet her.”
“I’ll do my best,” he promised, already apologizing to Mac in his mind for his mother’s opportunism.
It had not, luck to him, been too common, though he had heard about it from a few people at work and even at The Place. That he was dating someone from Lipstick Outlaws was known; it was less known just which of the band members he was with, however. He found this alternately amusing and annoying. They were all involved with someone, married or not, and he’d never interfere in anyone else’s relationship.
“Heard you were seeing a local girl, Blakemore! You’ve got great taste. That Katie girl? She’s so hot!” Never mind that Katie Lyn was married.
“Did I read that you’re dating one of the Outlaws?” People shortened the name all the time and Derek had yet to ask Mac if they did that in front of the band or even amongst the others in the band. “Their drummer is smokin’, man. You are one lucky dog.”
And so on.
“I’m looking for some kind of shirt about dating bass guitarists,” he’d told Mac the last time they’d spoken. “But they almost always infer the guitarist is a guy.”
She’d laughed loudly and he had grinned, very pleased with himself. They had been on FaceTime and even awkwardly curled over in her bunk on the tour bus, she’d been amazing to see with her hair all over and eye makeup a bit smudged after a long day. “I’ll see what I can do. Folks givin’ you a hard time?”
“Only on Mondays.”
“Well, then, you’re all set, since Memorial Day is a holiday, right?”
“I’m going to The Place that day, though.”
“Right! Forgot, sorry. When do I get to see it?”
“As soon as you want, hon.”
“Great.”
But she hadn’t made it that morning, being wiped out from her weekend commitments.
After his mother had demanded a promise of an introduction as soon as possible, he had managed to slide off to one side and send a text.
Derek: Hey, you up?
Mac: Coffee, Derek. Coffee. Shh.
Derek: Then silence the alerts, but hey. Are you free at all today?
Mac: Coffee. Remember?
Derek: I wanna see you.
Mac: I’d terrify you and your entire family right now.
Derek: Speaking of
Mac: ??
Derek: My mother’s becoming a fan. She’d like to meet you.
Mac: From what I’ve heard, your mom and my mom would probably get on famously.
Derek: They met once, at a parent day at Vandy.
Mac: Maybe we can schedule a dinner? Freak out my folks and have it at my place.
Derek: I like that. A lot
Mac: I might change my mind when I’m fully caffeinated.
Derek: Fair enough. I could have dinner at my place, instead.
Mac: Only if I get another date out of it. I miss those, you know.
Derek: Yeah. Do I apologize?
Mac: Do I apologize? Absence makes the heart grow crazy, Rissa says.
Derek: That’s what I’ve heard. Great song, by the way.
Mac: And . . . how’s that going? Crazy?
Derek: I have my moments. At my parents’ place right now, actually. The annual thing.
Mac: LOL Yeah. My folks have a thing today, too. I should probably finish my coffee and be all appropriate. Um, you free later?
Derek: I can be?
Mac: If I call, will you rescue me?
Derek: Absolutely.
They signed off and Derek felt a strange sort of anticipatory shiver zip up his spine. She might want rescuing later? I am all over that.
“Derek! C’mere, son. Need your hand at the grill.” It if wasn’t business, it was barbecue, as far as Derek was aware. And since grilling wouldn’t require him to fly across the country before he saw Mac again, Derek was more than happy to join his father at the grill. It was a smoker-grill combination, which was evident as soon as his dad lifted the lid.
“Ah, yeah,” Derek said, smiling. “Smells great, Dad.”
“Thanks! So, I got ‘em smoked. You ready to grill?” Dad handed him a long-handled set of tongs to turn the steaks and brats with. “I need a drink.” Blake Blakemore stepped away, talking with just about everyone on his way to the rolling cooler near the house.
Derek slid out his phone and took a picture of the grill to send to Mac. “I am in so much trouble,” he murmured as he sent it in a text message. Can’t get through a single day without finding a dozen things to take pics of to send to her.
He inhaled deeply and examined each piece of meat on the grill before him. Vegetables would have their time, too, but he always started with the meat. He started calling different guests over to find out which piece they wanted and how it should be cooked. Exchanging banalities with friends of his parents had him itching to leave. When had that kind of thing become so tedious? He didn’t remember being so restless at the last Memorial Day Barbecue. But then, last year, he had had Andrew over and the two of them had done the grilling.
Andy had even mentioned bailing on his parents’ annual thing. “I’m going to Lynda’s. I just didn’t tell Mom I wasn’t going until dinner.”
They’d had a laugh and enjoyed the challenge of keeping everything dry during the warm rain. “Next year, you’ll be married,” Derek had reminded the other man.
Andy had grinned, contentment blazing in his eyes. “Can’t wait. You’re next.”
“I’m not even dating anyone,” Derek had reminded his friend.
And now he was. Where would he be next year?
He dropped the tongs to the brick underneath his feet, where they clattered with an insane amount of noise. Embarrassed, he bent down, scooped them up, and ran to the outdoor sink. “I’ll rinse it, Mom.”
“Soap!” she reminded him, as if he were ten years old.
So that’s how he answered her. “Yes, Mom.”
“I have got to get out of here,” he said out loud as he hurried back to the grill. He didn’t think anyone heard or would have cared if they had. It was one of those kinds of parties.
He ate, fielded the three inquiries as to his dating life, promised himself to get a shirt that informed everyone he was with the band before Independence Day and the next round of family events, and watched the time. What if Mac didn’t call? What if she and Micah were up to something and having way too much fun without him?
Because Micah Cunningham was a riot, even if he had a problem with crowds, and Derek knew that he had to be in with Micah if he were going to have a relationship with his twin sister. The two of them were lifers, and—so far—Derek had been happy to have been included and even aided by Micah as he developed things with Mira-Mira.
Things. What kinds of things was he developing, anyway?
Being away from her was just . . . not a workable thing. So how to make it work between them? Well, they communicated. All the time. Balance. He had good work to do in the world, just as she had her music and the band. So there was balance, too.
But that wasn’t all there was, and it was the indefinable more that he was feeling as he spent the next hour or so cooking, eating, visiting, talking business and even some politics with the guests his parents had invited. More. He had more with Mira Annice Cunningham. And he wanted even more of her.
The ringtone he’d chosen for her on his phone was from When Karma Comes Calling—Lipstick Outlaws’ catchy girl-power number. He enjoyed the strength and general vibe it offered and, of course, he opted to use it for Mac on his phone.
“Like lightning striking hot and fast . . .” sounded from his pocket while he was talking with Bob Reeves, member of the Brentwood Chamber of Commerce.
Bob snorted a laugh and eyed him with no little amusement. “Friend of yours?”
“That would be why she has my number, Bob.” With a smile, Derek shook his head. “I’m gonna get this. Excuse me.”
“I’ll shoot you an email about that project.”
“Thanks!” Derek stepped far enough away not to be obviously overheard, hoping the nonverbal bid for privacy would be respected as he tapped his phone. “Mira-Mira on the Wall, who’s the fairest bass of all?”
He waited, holding his breath in the silence that greeted his little foray into flirtatiousness. Then, she laughed lightly. “That’s a new one. I like it. How do you feel like playing Prince Charming and coming to rescue me?”
“Give me the address and I’ll be out of here in five minutes,” he promised.
He was.
Micah & Mac
Mac: I’m being rescued!
Micah: Some of us are luckier than others.
Mac: Were they after you again, too?
Micah: Dad still wants me on Wall Street.
Mac: Well, you stay put. They should be happy Andy puts up with it.
Micah: LOL They should be happy that their only daughter is making a name for herself.
Mac: The band is making a name, goof.
Micah: The band is made up of young women making a name for themselves. How’s that?
Mac: Actually, it sounds good. Thank you
Micah: And you’re being rescued.
Mac: I am. But you know the folks wanna meet him.
Micah: Want me to distract and redirect?
Mac: Nah. Well . . . we’re planning a duo-family dinner, Derek and me.
Micah: O.O Sounds serious
Mac: Might be?
Micah: Where are you?
Mac: Granite bath.
Micah: Kitchen. Ice cream. Now.
10
“Hey, Dad!” Mac tapped her father on his left shoulder as he seemed to contemplate whatever there was to contemplate in the rippling movement of the swimming pool.
Ben Cunningham turned; his expression mild. He held a bottle of Perrier in one hand and wiped perspiration from his forehead with the other. Mac kept her expression ingenuous as they stared at one another for a long and nearly awkward moment. Her mother had always been the main engine in the family, she felt. Her father was more of a foundation. Firm. Unwavering. Couldn’t keep upright but for him, but he wasn’t really a force for change in the day to day life they all lived. His energies had always been expended in business, investments, and the like when she’d been a kid. A lot like Derek, actually, but without the sense of humor her boyfriend had consistently displayed.
Dad gestured to the cooler with the Perrier bottles. “Want some water?”
“No, thank you. I just finished some ice cream with Micah. I wanted to tell you that Derek Blakemore is coming to pick me up in a few minutes and I’d like you and Mom to meet him.”
