I say nothing as I drop my head to look at the bedsheets I’m twisting in my fingers.
“But the reason I’ve never told you those things is because I’m scared to, Paige. Because of your mother.”
And this time I do look up, and when our eyes meet, I see the hurt and the pain there; “Dad?”
“We don’t really talk about your mom much, do we?”
I shake my head; “We don’t have to, Dad,” I say softly; “She did leave.”
He nods; “You were only eight. I asked her to stay; that last night when she walked out; begged her to stay-” His brow furrows, his voice catching.
“Dad-”
“No, hang on, you’re old enough to hear this.” He looks at me, looking older than he normally does; “You know, your mom sang too.”
My eyes go wide, but somehow, I know it’s true without questioning it. It’s like a thousand shadowed memories hidden by shades of time are suddenly drifting up from the bottom.
And I remember.
I remember the woman who was my mother, a guitar on her lap and me at her feet, her voice tickling across my ears and making me smile.
And then I remember the silence that followed.
“There was no stopping her, honey,” Dad says quietly, looking at his hands; “Not me, not even you. She had to go find her way, and that way didn’t include us.”
“Did you ever hear-”
“Twice,” He looks up at me, broken and yet steeled at the same time; “Not to say hello, or see how you or I were; not on your birthday, Paige. She called twice to ask for money. The first time, I was still grieving; the second time, I buried her.” He looks me right in the eye, biting back his pain; “She never called a third time.”
And then it all clicks; why he’s so controlling, why he’s so overbearing and protective-
...Why it probably hurts to hear me sing.
“I just-” He shakes his head; “I wanted so much better for you, Paige. I wanted better than that life for you. Everything, everything I’ve ever-”
“Dad.” I reach out and take his hand; “ I know.” I take deep, shaky breath; “But dad, I-”
“You don’t want to be a doctor, do you?”
It’s everything we’ve both never said out loud, and I find myself lowering my gaze to look at the floor.
He chuckles; “Your grandfather wanted me to be a dentist,” He says, laughing. He squeezes my hand, and that’s when I finally break. That’s when everything about this night - the show, the high, the low, Knox and all of it - comes crashing down on me at once, and I’m suddenly wrapping my arms around him and crying into his chest as he holds me and just rocks me like he used to.
“I love you, honey,” He says quietly, rocking me back and forth and letting me cry.
I finally look up, sniffing and blinking the tears from my eyes; “Knox-”
He sighs and chuckles; “Huh, so I guess we did manage to make it all the way to three weeks before you leave for college without talking about boys, huh?”
I choke out a laugh, sniffling my nose before he reaches into his pocket and passes me a tissue.
“I know he’s not a bad kid, honey, I just-” he stops and shakes his head; “Wow, I’m the wrong guy to ask about love, aren’t I?”
I smile, reaching up to push the tears out of my face; “Well, you got Amanda.”
“I’m getting it right the second time.”
I nod, looking down again as I twist the bedspread between my fingers again. He’s right, we’ve made it so far without talking about something like this that I don’t even know where to start; “Dad, I- I really care a lot about him.”
“I know you do, honey,” He says softly, stroking my hair; “But I also know wasted potential when I see it. Look, I’m not trying to ‘banish him’ or anything like that, but even Amanda agrees that this is what’s best. Knox is a smart kid, he just needs a kick in the ass to make him see it himself.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, the reality of Knox leaving tomorrow suddenly rushing back to the surface; “I just wish he’d get that kick here.”
“Me too, honey,” Dad says, nodding slowly; “Me too.”
“Yes ma’am, thank you.”
I’m sitting astride my bike in the driveway, fingering the shifter with the cell phone glued to my ear. Moments like these are crossroads. These are the parts of life where you can make the right turn or the wrong one, the one that years from now, you’ll look back on still think about.
For me, it’s always been a game of picking the worst way possible. The road less traveled? Yeah, right. I’ve always taken the dirt path next to that less traveled road; always insisted on making my own way and my own path, come what may.
Except something’s different now. Something’s changed me, and for the first time ever, I know I’m going to look back on this phone conversation and actually know it was the right one instead of just the most pig-headed and self-serving one.
“Absolutely, ma’am, no I really do appreciate it.”
My heart is beating a million miles a minute, and it feels like I might as well be roaring down a highway at double the speed limit instead of sitting here on a motionless bike.
“No, I’m sure. Yes ma’am, I’m ready to commit.”
I close my eyes and smile; I’m doing it.
And fuck does it feel good. I’m committing, I’m taking a step, I’m embracing it and making my life real and making it count for something. Well, maybe not quite yet; it’s still pending transcripts after all. But that’s going to be fine.
It’s the other thing I’m worried about. Because all of this means nothing unless there’s one person that says yes.
And right now, I’m not sure what she’ll say.
I slip off the bike and stand in the open back doorway of the garage, looking out across the yard and at the pool house. Jesus, what a summer cliche. Boy-meets-girl, boy should have nothing to do with girl but pesters her relentlessly anyways. Boy and girl get closer, and find a common middle ground. And then there’s the Hollywood soundtrack and a kiss, and then things move faster; faster than either of them ever thought it would. An “experiment” turns into foundation, and from there something is built that neither of them ever expected.
Yeah, what a fuckin’ cliche, right? I mean shit, there was even a summer sex-scene in a pool house; I mean c’mon.
I shake my head, frowning at the memory of this summer and of everything that’s happened over the last month; the ups, the downs, the uncertainty, and also knowing everything that needs to be.
And suddenly, I know exactly what needs to be. Because again, none of this - none of finally getting my shit together and going to business school in the fall - means dick-all if I’m leaving her like this.
Because I’m slowly realizing what’s different about me now.
Paige.
I’m standing in front of my bike when my eyes land on the little can of gasoline next to it. I’m fingering the lighter in my pocket as I start to smile, and then that smile turns into a big grin as I start to laugh.
It’s time to go big or go home. It’s time to grow up, man up, and walk tall.
I grab the oil can, almost laughing out loud at the irony of it’s contents as I march out of the garage as the sun drops behind the horizon and head for the backyard ready to light some shit on fire.
And who says romantic gestures are dead?
God what a day.
I’m physically, mentally, and just emotionally drained after the whirlwind of the last twenty-four hours. After the show, and then Knox , and then my father and everything about my mom, I’m just sort of done. Books are shoved aside, and even though I’ve dragged my little keyboard out, I haven’t even been able to make myself turn it on.
You’d think that after a night like that - after playing a show like something out of a dream, I’d be playing as much as I could right now.
Except it’d be empty.
Because before, I had him there; holding me
up, holding my hand, and letting all that boundless cocky attitude of his flow into me.
You’d also think that after the emotional rollercoaster of last night, I’d have enough material for another whole book of songs, but it’s nothing I can even begin to filter right now, because it’s all a little too raw.
It’s all too real.
I haven’t left my room all day, even now as the sun starts to go down over the hills. I just can’t. I haven’t heard a peep from Knox, or really anyone aside from my father knocking to let me know there was lunch outside the door for me. With a house this big, he might be gone already, and I wouldn’t even know it.
The sound of my phone draws my head up from the pillow, and I frown as I peer at the unknown number.
Whatever it is, I don’t care; I grumble, silencing the buzzing and ringing and lowering my face back into my pillow cocoon.
The phone goes off again, and this time, I’m angrily thumbing the talk button as I drag it up to my ear; “What?”
There’s a silence on the other end, before a woman’s sharp voice cuts through it; “Paige McCauley?”
I frown; “Yes?”
“Oh, wonderful. I hear you’re going to be in New York this fall?”
I shake my head, blinking my eyes; “I’m sorry, who is this?”
The woman laughs; “Oh, I’m sorry, my name is Laura Martin. I’m with Little House Records?”
I am very quickly paying all the attention in the world to this voice on the phone. Little House, as in the indie record label.
I’m opening my mouth and trying to make words, but nothing’s happening. I’m actually frozen, sitting bolt upright in bed with my jaw hanging open and my eyes glassy.
“Hello? Paige?”
“Yes! Hi!” I cringe at the break in my voice and how stupidly excited I sound like some sort of total dork.
Laura just chuckles into the phone though; “Listen, Paige, I was at your show earlier tonight.”
I’m going to have a heart attack. My heart is literally going to jump out of my chest via my mouth.
“I don’t think I have to tell you that you were quite good up there, and honestly, I’m very impressed.”
My head starts to swim, the smile threatening to engulf my entire face before I manage to actually remember how to talk; “Um...thank you!”
…Hey, I didn’t say remember how to talk eloquently.
“Listen, Paige, I’d like to talk to you about your music and your career.”
Oh. My God.
“When are you going to be in New York?”
I’m out of bed and pacing around the room, grinning like an insane person, my eyes darting all over the place and my mind whirling at a thousand beats a second; “Next week, actually! I’m going to be starting at Col-”
“Columbia, yes I’ve heard, and congratulations.” Her voice is warm and yet confident; “Listen, why don’t we say next Monday at 10 a.m.? You could come down to the offices and we could just talk; see what we can do for each other. How does that sound?”
“Fucking amazing!” My eyes go wide and I clap my hand over my mouth as soon as I say it and accidentally let the power of Knox flow through me.
Laura just starts laughing over the phone though; “Paige, I think we’re going to get along just fine,” She says with a warm laugh; “So, I’ll see you Monday?”
“Absolutely!” I say quickly with that grin splitting my face wide; “And thank you!”
“Hey, thank you; you really were impressive tonight! Oh, and the whole kiss with your boyfriend?” Laura whistles; “Perfect timing; people loved it.”
The grin falters on my face as I stop pacing the room dead in my tracks; “Oh, he’s-”
He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my stepbrother.
“Yeah, he’s great,” I say quietly.
“Well, I’m looking forward to meeting him too, then. Monday it is!”
I hang the phone up in a daze. OK, if I was confused and out of my head before, I’m now on on another planet.
A record label just called you and wants to talk to you. It’s too crazy to even believe but there it is, and as I just stand there staring at the phone in my hand, a sort of warmth starts to grow inside of me.
Holy shit. This is real; this is really happening next Monday.
And just like that, a crazy sort of manic energy floods into me. I’m jumping in front of my keyboard and starting to reach for my headphones, before I freeze.
No. No headphones; not this time.
Instead, minutes later, I find myself sitting in front of the baby grand in the great room. Because I’m not hushing my words or quietly singing anything this time; I’m not going to hide my voice or my words.
Not anymore.
And then I start to play, and when I open my mouth, the words come clear and shining, and it’s perfect. And through the whole damn thing, there’s just one face - one cocky, smirking, and totally irresistible face sitting right here in my mind. The one face I can’t be with, the face of the boy who’s leaving tomorrow morning and never coming back.
There are tears then, as I’m halfway through the same song I played at the competition. But then something in the window catches my eyes, and I falter, frowning as I lose my place on the keys.
At first, I’m not sure what I’m looking at out the huge floor-to-ceiling windows of the great room. I finally stop playing and peer out at the backyard, dimmed in twilight. I stand and slowly move towards the window before I take a gasp; is that fire?
It is fire, but suddenly, my heart is jumping into my throat as I realize what I’m looking at.
It’s not just a fire, it’s words; words written in flame, words seared across the backyard in huge, roaring letters:
ASK ME TO COME
I can hear my dad yelling upstairs about there being a fire in the backyard, but I’m already exploding out the back door and running towards the letters.
And there he is, standing right next to them with his arms crossed over his chest and that damned cocky grin on his face.
I’m breathless as I stop in front of him; “Is- is this?-” I bite my lip, my eyes searching his face.
“For you?”
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as he rolls his eyes; “Nah, it’s for that other uptight princess with the killer voice inside.” He laughs, grabbing my hands and pulling me close as I punch him in the arm; “I need to tell you something, Paige.”
“Well, I need to tell you something too,” I say, biting my lip and look up into his eyes; “You go first.”
He winks, a grin teasing his lips; “I’m not going to Alaska, I’m coming to New York.”
I stop suddenly, my eyes growing wide; “Wait, what? Knox, my dad’s going to kill you if you-”
“Yeah, well, he still might cause of the lawn and all,” He nods his chin at the burning grass behind me; “He might be more interested in hearing how I just got into Columbia Business School, though.”
Crude: A Stepbrother Romance Page 19
