by JL Paul
“He’s a guest of mine,” Gwen said quickly. She raised a brow, challenging my mother to contest.
“I’m not sure Aubrey Rose wants him here,” Mom said with a tight jaw.
“That’s what you think,” Gwen muttered. Dane squeezed her elbow as I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“Why don’t we all just go get some dinner and celebrate?” Dad offered, ever the peace keeper.
“That’s a great idea, Mitchell,” Dane concurred.
I stood amidst them, all eyes boring into me. Catching Kendra in my peripheral vision, I quickly introduced her and Troy to my mother. It worked. My mother immediately, but politely, grilled her on what she did for a living. My father beamed as he stood between Jess and Troy.
The crew eyed us curiously as several conversations buzzed around me and I realized we were the last ones on the stage. My mother had stopped questioning Kendra, moving on to figure out a proper place to dine. She studiously ignored Jess, which only amused him. Biting my lip, I shifted from foot to foot, longing to get away from all of them.
“I think we should just go grab a burger or something,” my dad suggested.
My mother stiffened. “You would. Don’t you think your daughter deserves something nicer than that?”
“Mother, it was just the semi-finals. I’m sure Aubrey doesn’t want a whole lot of fuss,” Gwen said.
“Just the semi-finals?” Mom gasped. “I should expect that from you.”
This could not be happening. But of course it was. I took a deep breath. “Why you all decide what I’d like and what I wouldn’t like, I’m going to change. I’ll meet you in the waiting room.”
I stalked away but not before catching the laughter shining in Jess’s eyes.
We ended up at a nice restaurant, nothing too fancy, not far from the studio. Kendra arranged me to sit between her and Jess and I wanted to scream. He was so close that his arm brushed mine frequently, sending little bolts of electricity up my spine. I wasn’t sure if he was wearing cologne or if it was merely his soap - whatever it was permeated my nose and sent my brain afloat. I shoved my hands under the table, locking my fingers together to keep them from creeping over to touch him.
It was torture.
My mother continued to ignore Jess but it didn’t seem as if he even noticed. He was talking baseball with my dad and Troy while Dane and Gwen whispered quietly together. I had tried to get my sister’s attention all night; thinking now would be the perfect time to announce her pregnancy. It was obvious that she’d received my silent message but she acted totally ambiguous. I prayed the food would come quickly so I could get out of there and hide in my room.
I picked up my napkin, fiddling with it, folding it and unfolding it on top of the table. My hands were too dangerous underneath the table as they itched to rest on Jess’s thigh.
“So, Aubrey,” Kendra said. “What are you doing tomorrow night? Have you decided yet?”
“Oh, we’ve chosen Wind Beneath My Wings by Bette Midler,” Mom chirped.
I dropped my napkin and gaped at her.
“You’ve chosen,” I blurted. The tension was just too much for my mouth. “I am not doing that song. I told you what I was doing.”
She set her lips in a thin line, aware of the immediate silence surrounding our table. “We’ll talk about this tonight.”
“No, we’re not.” I was surprised at how firm I sounded. “I’ve already decided. This is what I want to do.”
“What song?” Kendra asked, trying to relieve the awkwardness.
“It’s an older song,” I explained as I told her the title. “But I like the sound.”
“Aubrey Rose, are you trying to lose?” my mother asked.
I looked into her eyes, seeing all her hopes and dreams, but I couldn’t let the guilt rule me now.
“I don’t really care,” I whispered. She heard me.
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered, looking away in disgust.
Jess’s hand squeezed my thigh and I jumped. I looked at him but he was watching my mother.
“So, Dane and I are having a baby,” Gwen blurted in such a nonchalant, casual tone.
My mother, who’d opened her mouth to berate me, gaped like a fish out of water. Standing, she set her napkin carefully on the table.
“I apologize but I am not in the mood to celebrate tonight. Mitchell, you can bring Aubrey home in your car.” And, turning on her heel, she strolled out of the restaurant.
As the blood drained from my face, Jess’s arm wound around my shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. I didn’t care that he didn’t want me – he was comforting me and that’s what I needed.
My father was on his feet, hugging Gwen and mopping the tears that fell without shame on his cheeks. He shook Dane’s hand enthusiastically before hugging and kissing Gwen again. The waitress appeared with our food, confused by my mother’s abrupt exit. Dad asked if she’d wrap it to go so he could take it home for her.
The mood had lifted with Gwen’s announcement and I couldn’t stop smiling at her. She winked at me as love and affection welled up inside my heart.
But guilt nibbled on the back of my brain, especially when my eyes fell on my mother’s empty chair. I’d hurt her and Gwen had hurt her while trying to protect me.
It was time, I decided, to get a life. I would finish the competition and come what may, win or lose; I would start my life when it was over.
My dad, Jess, and Dane argued over the bill and once they settled it, Jess asked if he could drive me home. I agreed, knowing I had a few things to explain to him. Then maybe I could let him go.
“I’m sorry about your mom,” he said once we were on the road. “But you do need to stand up to her.”
“I know, Jess,” I said. “You’ve been telling me that since I met you.”
My less than friendly tone caused him to set his lips in a tight line and clench his jaw. He kept his eyes on the road and his hands to himself as he drove. I sat as close to the door as possible, afraid to touch him even accidentally. But I couldn’t let him take me home yet. I needed to get a few things off my chest.
“Jess, can we go somewhere to talk?”
“Sure,” he said. When he exited the highway, I realized he was taking me to his house. That was fine with me. At least we wouldn’t be interrupted.
We pulled into his driveway after a very uncomfortable, silent ride. He settled us on the sofa once he let us in and looked at me, waiting for me to start.
“Um...”
“That song was about us, wasn’t it?” he asked so quietly that I had to strain to hear him.
“Sort of,” I admitted.
Nodding, he got to his feet. He walked to the fireplace and rested an arm on the mantle. “Damn it, Aubrey. I thought I was the mature one here. I thought for sure that I was doing what was best for you but then you have to sing that damn song. And then you start standing up to your mother to show her you can be your own person and you suck me in all the more.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and turned his back on me. “I don’t know what to do about you.”
"What do you mean?"
Slumping, he released a long breath. "Do you think it was easy for me to let you go? Do you think that it doesn't bother me?"
"I don't know what to think," I said.
"I try to keep away from you. I try not to touch you or…anything," he said, his voice low. "But I can't. I can't stay away from you even though it's probably for the best."
I tiptoed to him and rested a light hand on the small of his back. “Then don't. We can make this work.”
He sighed, slouching his shoulders. Turning, he collected me in his arms. “What do you want?”
“You,” I muttered into his chest.
He chuckled but it wasn’t genuine. “Besides me. What do you want out of your life? I can’t be your everything, Aubrey. You have to have a life other than me.”
I nestled my cheek against his chest and snaked my arms around his waist.
He held me tighter. “I’m not exactly sure at this moment but I’m honestly working on it. I do have a plan, you know.”
His arms froze momentarily before edging me back to peer into my face. “You do?” I nodded, a hopeful smile playing with my lips. “Care to share?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I have to work it out for myself first.”
His face softened as he kissed my forehead. “You are growing up, huh? Developing a backbone.”
“You were right,” I whispered.
“What about your mom?”
“That’s something else I need to work out. Something between her and I.”
He cocked his head, curiosity raging inside his eyes. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Something that’s driven me all these years but I realize that it was the wrong sort of force, if that makes sense.” I sighed as I leaned into him. “I do like to sing but that’s not all that I am. I will do my absolute best tomorrow night but winning this competition isn’t the most important thing in the world to me.” My heart heaved a sigh of relief at finally admitting aloud what had always been locked away inside.
“I’m proud of you, Aubrey,” Jess whispered in my hair. He dropped his arms and took my hands. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”
A wry smile touched my face. “I thought you didn’t want me? I thought it was the best thing for me?”
Grabbing my face, he kissed me with a fierceness I didn’t recognize.
“I’m not always right,” he murmured against my mouth.
My smile widened as he kissed me again. My arms wound around his neck as my body instinctively moved closer. It cried out to me, telling me to let him carry me down the hall and have his way with me. But I resisted, though it wasn’t easy.
“I have to go home,” I sighed as I broke the kiss. “I have to practice tonight.”
He inhaled deeply and nodded, taking my hand to lead me to the door. “Okay. Maybe tomorrow night, huh? Break’s over Friday, you know.”
“Definitely,” I grinned. He opened the truck door and helped me in. My heart danced as he started the engine and drove down the dark roads. He held my hand all the way to my house and when he pulled in the drive, my happiness ebbed away like a tide. I still had to deal with my mother.
He yanked me to his chest, placing a gentle kiss on my lips.
“Go easy on her but don’t let her guilt you into anything. Got it?”
I agreed, eager for him to kiss me again. He obliged. His lips left mine to trail up my jaw and to my ear.
“I do love you, Aubrey,” he whispered then leaned over me to open the door.
I bounded into the house.
***
Sitting before my locker in the dressing room, I fiddled nervously with my hands. I wasn’t overly concerned with my music – I’d rehearsed last night but it was one of my favorite songs so I knew it rather well.
I wasn’t concerned with my clothes, either, as I was wearing the same sort of thing I’d worn the night before – something I’d be comfortable in and was more ‘me’.
I wasn’t concerned with the hateful sneers Samantha threw at me every chance she got at all. I could care less what she thought of me or even if she thought she could sabotage me in any way. I wasn’t desperate to win. It would be nice, but it wasn’t my heart’s desire. I smiled a little. I’d gotten my heart’s desire last night when Jess gave in to me with a kiss. He never was one to mince words.
Last night, as I sang the words over and over, I decided that I would put my plan into motion once the competition was finished. Maybe it would work and maybe not. But it was what I wanted for me.
What did worry me was my mother. She’d locked herself in her bedroom last night and hadn’t come out yet. She wasn’t at the studio with me and I didn’t think she’d be in the audience, either. I knew I’d hurt her and I even understood why – even if no one else did – but I thought she’d want to be a part of this. Obviously I was wrong.
The show was a long, drawn out affair. We had to endure tapes of our previous performances. We were forced to sit together on some sort of sofa contraption and smile as the host ranted and raved.
Finally, Gary was allowed to perform and perform he did. He sang a country number, one made famous by Alan Jackson, and was rewarded with wild cheers and applause. The judges gave him their opinions, lavishing praise on him. Even Richard and Marissa enjoyed it. I agreed that he did an excellent job but for Richard and Marissa to compliment him so fervently - I had a sneaking suspicion they were instructed to do that in order to build the anticipation.
I was up next and I ignored the lights, cameras, judges, and audience again as I sang my heart out. I sang the words that meant something to me – reminded me in a way of my own life. I let the world around me disappear as I sang, meaning every single word that fell from my lips.
When I finished, the roar surrounding me woke me from my stupor. I couldn’t hold back the smile as I knew, without a doubt, that Jess was in that audience cheering for me, too. Once the audience died down, I stood in front of the panel and awaited my fate.
The first three, naturally, were excited and showered me with praise. Marissa nodded with pursed lips. “Great song and you performed it flawlessly. I loved it.”
Shocked at her brief remarks, I turned to Richard. He was actually grinning. “I have a feeling the sweetheart image was a ruse.”
I shrugged, stiffening my spine. “I didn’t choose it.”
He laughed. “I know. You’ve struggled to get out from under that from the get go. I very much enjoyed your performance tonight. You’ve got attitude and it showed. I don’t think you performed with as much heart as last night but I am extremely ecstatic to see your personality shine through.”
I was allowed to escape to the couch were Gary and Samantha congratulated me with false enthusiasm. Samantha rose to prepare for her turn. She chose Joan Jett’s version of I Love Rock N Roll and had nearly the entire house on its feet. I was certain my group sat rebelliously in their seats. But Samantha nailed it perfectly and a smidgen of worry gnawed at my heart. She was a natural talent and certainly the world – or at least the viewing audience- would see it.
She finished to rave reviews and returned to Gary and me. We congratulated her warmly – the cameras were on us.
The show cut to commercial and I sat with my head bowed, wanting the entire escapade to finally be over. The show resumed to more pomp and circumstance and video footage of the competition. Finally, we were asked to step before the judges.
My heart pounded as my jelly legs walked me to the edge of the stage. The audience voting was closed and being tallied as the judges decided who they wanted to be the next American Star.
Stephen Cashmain started. He assured us that he loved us all very much but when he was forced to choose, he would have to go with Samantha. She beamed at him and my heart turned a little.
Sweet Chelsea was next and she hemmed and hawed endlessly, big tears in her eyes. She sighed and whispered Gary’s name before dropping her head to her hands. I bit my lip.
With a grin, Big D leaned back in his chair. “I’m picking my girl, Aubrey. Love the attitude, the hair, everything.” He gave me a wink that lifted my heart.
Until we turned to Marissa. She eyed us all as if we were in a police lineup and she had to identify the suspect who had run over her beloved kitten with her grandmother’s stolen scooter.
“I agree that it should be the three of you standing before us. Since the beginning of this competition, I knew it’d come down to you three. But one of you has been constant the entire time and that’s Samantha. I have to go with her.”
I expected it but my heart still dropped. I kept my chin up and turned to Richard. A frown marred his weathered face as he considered us carefully.
“Marissa has a point – several actually. But I believe in talent and the ability to adapt and change. I think that is the purpose for this competition – to see who has what it takes to bend with the industry.
My vote is for Aubrey.”
My jaw dropped as he gave me the tiniest smile. He nodded briefly and arranged his face into his stern demeanor.
The host returned to say goodbye to Gary. No amount of audience voting would save him with only one judge vote.
Samantha moved closer to me and took my hand. I wanted to roll my eyes and snatch my hand back but I didn’t. I played her little game, giving her a huge, fake smile.
A stage hand rushed to the host and handed him an envelope. He tore it open, read the words, and then smiled.
“The audience has decided that our next American Star is…” of course he paused for dramatic effect. He spun to us and pointed at Samantha. “Samantha Roper!”
She released my hand to press her own onto her chest as she gasped. She turned to me, shock evident in her eyes and I impulsively hugged her. She returned it, warmly, and stumbled away to the host. I took a few careful steps backwards until a stage hand directed me backstage.
I sank to a chair as relief washed over me, mixed with a dab of disappointment.
Mom, I thought with a huge helping of guilt. She'd be watching at home, more than likely very upset. I wondered what I would say to comfort her.
“Miss Quinn?” a voice called over my shoulder. Rising to my feet, I faced a fortyish man with warm blue eyes and sandy brown hair graying at the temples. “Could I have a word with you?”
“Sure,” I said, still slightly numb.
“My name is Jonathan Spitzer. I own Spitz Records here in Indianapolis. Perhaps you’ve heard of us?”
Heard of him? Of course I had. His company was small but he’d managed to produce a couple of successful acts in the past few years.
“Yes, I have. It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
“Please, call me Jon,” he said as he handed me a card. “I’m very interested in you and to be honest, relieved that you didn’t win. You’d have been offered contracts with much bigger names.” He smiled. “Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. I was wondering if you’d be interested in meeting with me next week? I’d like to offer you a contract with my company.”
Over his shoulder I spotted my family and friends, various degrees of sorrow and pride on their faces. But I found Jess’s eyes, knowing I’d need his strength the most.
