"If you don't have any plans tomorrow," Diane said. "I'd love to show you the city. The not touristy part. I was going to do this for my dad, so I already have all the morning planned out."
The offer surprised her. If it weren't for the Andrew King part, it sounded like a pretty neat idea. She didn't like to do the touristy parts anyway.
"I'm afraid I have to be somewhere in the morning," she said, deciding on the spot that she would accept her manager's suggestion to check out a local studio.
The disappointment in the girl's face was obvious, and she felt like a total jerk for refusing her.
"You should join us for dinner," Christine said. "We're going to have a small backyard barbeque, and we'd love to have you."
She was about to refuse again, when she caught King glaring at his wife. What right did he have to get all annoyed if she came? He'd been in her house more often than she had been in the past few months.
"Should I bring anything?" she asked. "Snakes? Spiders? Snails? You know, things I can hunt with my bare hands."
Christine's beautiful red lips quirked into a smile and for the first time that evening Vy felt like the woman was not made of ice. Her stunning grey eyes seemed less like ice and more like glittering grey diamonds.
"Don't bring snails," Christine said. "That would make us miss Illyria too much."
It was her time to grin.
"We ate the best snails in Viaverde," Diane said with a deep sigh.
Christine looked from her daughter to her with a "See what I mean?" in her eyes. Her grey eyes. Grey eyes. She felt that was important, but she couldn't place the image. She shook her head. It would come to her.
"I should bring something though," she said.
"We have a big backyard with lots of grass," Diane said. "I bet there are snakes in it. You can show me how to catch one."
"No," both Andrew and Christine said at the same time.
"Please don't show her," Christine said.
"It's starting to dawn on me that I might not be a good role model," Vy said. "Maybe going on Celebrity Jungle wasn't such a bright idea."
"What else did you do there?" Diane asked, avoiding her parents' gazes.
"Oh, you know⦠the usual crazy things they ask the contestants on these shows," Vy said, aware of the cloud of parental disapproval surrounding her.
"It's not like I'm not going to see anyway," Diane told her parents, shaking her head. "Dad's in it, so I'm going to watch the show."
Vy tried to hide her grin by taking a long drink of the coffee-like concoction she had ordered in an attempt to replenish her energy reserves. That kid was awesome. No wonder she was a fan of hers.
"There you were," Derek said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, yeah, didn't I text you?" she asked, knowing full well that she hadn't. "These are my friends: Diane, Christine and Andrew," her voice faltered saying his name. Damn him for not giving her permission to use it. "This is my tour manager, Derek McManus."
Derek smiled his dead fish professional smile when he nodded at them, not even a twinge of recognition when his gaze passed over Andrew.
"Sorry to break out this lovely reunion, but there's someone Vy really needs to talk to."
She was tempted to evade this meeting, probably another local talent scout or club owner interested in signing a cheap foreign artist, but she had intruded enough in what clearly was a nice family evening.
She stood up halfheartedly.
"We're all set for tomorrow, right?" Diane asked.
Vy offered the girl her hand. "DM me the time and the address," she said, shaking her hand. "Thank you for tonight," she said looking at Christine and Andrew.
They looked good together. The realization left a bitter taste at the back of her throat.
She was having a salad at the lunch meeting Derek set up with some people Vy didn't care to meet. She still hadn't called Carter, but when she went to the bathroom to get away from the tedious conversation, she texted him.
"Thank you."
She didn't expect a reply, and she almost dropped the phone when it vibrated. She smiled to see the DM from Diane. She had a two hours to rest until the King family barbecue.
Three hours later, the taxi left her in front of a gorgeous house in one of the affluent neighborhoods of the city.
"Why did you go on Celebrity Jungle?" Christine asked. "I lived long enough with Andrew to recognize someone obsessed with music."
Vy took her time washing the plates by hand, and drying them one by one before answering.
"Carter," she said and sighed. "He was acting weird. I felt like he was kicking me out of the studio or something. It wasn't the best idea he ever had for me, but little by little, I ended up trusting him with every decision about my career. And every time I he makes me mad, and I want to sever all ties with him, I remember his songs."
She suddenly felt embarrassed for sharing so much with the woman she didn't know. She felt like there was no one left in her life she could talk about Tim Carter.
"He's an odd one, isn't he?" Christine said. "I remember him in high school. He was lanky, awkward, he never spoke to anyone."
"I cannot imagine that," Vy said. "Carter not speaking to people."
Christine smile grew a little distant. "Everyone changes. Andrew and I had been friends since we first met, but no one talked to Tim. He was this weird kid, always scribbling something in his notebooks. When I started talking to him, I was shocked how funny and smart he was. We all knew who his mother was, we knew that he spent a lot of time in the theater, but he never made a fuss about it. I had no idea he was in a band until Viaverde."
And then it clicked.
"So that was it," Vy said. "You are the one who got away."
Vy watched the other woman. She tried to make sense of all the bits of information she had. Tim had talked about loving only one woman his whole life. The constant rivalry between Andrew and Tim. She had always wondered how to people who were very similar in many ways could dislike each other so deeply.
"It was all in his head," Christine said. "I'm not saying he didn't feel anything for me, but it wasn't real. He never even tried to talk to me about what he felt. It wouldn't have changed anything, but he didn't. Some things are just not meant to be."
"He says he doesn't like to be happy," Vy said. "But I don't believe him. Maybe he doesn't want to be happy like most people define happiness, but even I can see he's searching for something. For someone. Maybe for you. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty or anything. I don't know if you would have made him happy. He's⦠very strange."
"If anything, I would have kept him from becoming what he is," Christine said. "The world of music without 'TC' would be poorer. Timing is very important. Back then, when we all met, I wasn't the right woman for him. I was the right woman for Andrew."
Vy's heart stopped. She had a point, but her heart didn't care. Her heart cared about Andrew.
Christine opened her mouth to say something else, but the kitchen door burst open and Andrew ran in, the sleeve of his shirt smoldering. He went straight to the sink and turned on the water over his smoking arm. She took a step toward him, but Christine was already at his side.
"Are you burned?" Christine asked, tearing at the cloth to expose his skin.
Andrew groaned. "It's superficial," he said.
"Keep the water running over it," Christine said. "I'll get the first aid kit."
Vy walked out into the backyard while Christine reached in one of the cupboards and got out the kit.
Diane was gathering burgers from the grass and piling them onto a plate.
"Is he ok?" Diane asked. "Something like that usually happens when he tries to get involved with the cooking."
"Your mother is taking care of him," she said. "Are you telling me that Andrew King isn't perfect at everything he does?"
The girl chuckled. "It's weird when you call him that."
Vy pulled a chair toward Diane and sat down, while the
girl rescued the last burger.
"They look a little raw for my taste, but I am hungry," she said.
"Funny," Diane said. "They're for the dogs. I don't know what they fed you in the Jungle, but we're not going to eat raw meat that has fallen on the ground."
"Fine, if you want to be fussy about it..." Vy said raising her hands. "I bet we can order pizza."
"No need. This was the second batch." She pointed at the table where a bunch of burgers were piled on a plate and covered with a transparent lid.
"We might have to pack in more rabbit food, but those should be enough."
"Rabbit food?" Diane asked.
"Salad and such. What can I say? I'm a carnivore."
"Actually, you're an omnivore," Diane corrected her. "If you were a carnivore you couldn't eat 'rabbit food' at all."
Vy smiled and she bumped the girl's shoulder with her fist. That was an acceptable Cesara public display of affection.
"You didn't really think dad is perfect, did you?"
"No," Vy said. "But seeing him with the shirt on fire tarnished some of the glam."
"Sorry we ruined him for you," Diane said sarcastically, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "You're so cool all the time," she added. "What's the clumsiest thing you ever did?"
Vy took in a deep breath.
"Dancing. And I don't even mean one particular time. I suck at dancing."
"But in your video," Diane exclaimed. "You danced with TC and it looked a-mah-zing!"
"Yeah, that one⦠It wasn't supposed to be TC in the video. We hired a guy. A gorgeous, underwear model of a dance instructor. And he quit!"
"No way! Why?"
"Because I was irredeemably clumsy. And I may have fractured one or more of his toes. He was a big baby about it."
Diane was giggling hysterically. "I don't believe you."
"I swear," Vy said. "If Carter kept the outtakes I'll send you the one when the most gorgeous man I ever saw burst into tears."
"He did not."
"He totally did. Anyway, that's when Carter finally said something like 'no one can make you work like me' or something of the kind, and took over."
"You danced very well with him," Diane said. "I like that video a lot, although I hate TC so much."
"Are you kidding?" Vy asked. "We did not dance well. He's just immune to pain or something because he kept going. For that three minutes video we danced for like two hours. 10 minutes dancing with 5 minute breaks in which he made fun of me."
"Well, it was worth it," Diane said.
"Do you think the fire damaged his tattoos?" Vy asked.
"Dad's? I don't know. Why? You like his tattoos?"
"Who doesn't like tattoos on a guy?" she asked.
Diane's laughter was interrupted by Christine's voice.
"That's enough, the two of you. Come on, help me set up the table.
When Vy turned around, she saw Andrew standing with a sullen look on his face, and his forearm wrapped in gauze. He pulled down the sleeve of his new shirt over it. Vy swallowed and tried to look away. He had dressed in a hurry because he hadn't done all the buttons and she caught a sight of his chest. His bare chest had been a major selling point for Vy in his Dark Dream video.
The rest of the meal went on without incident. When it came time to leave, she found it difficult to keep her eyes dry when Diane hugged her.
"Make sure you tell me when you come back home," she said. "To Illyria, I mean," she added, realizing that for Diane, this was home.
Andrew
That had gone better than he could have hoped for. Watching Diane get along with Vy so well reaffirmed his belief that he had done the right thing. Vy had more in common with his daughter than with him.
Even so, he still had to talk to Christine about her. He had never lied to his wife, and if they were going to make it work again, he wouldn't start by lying to her. He wished that was an option, but Christine knew him too well not to have caught on to his attraction.
Diane had talked his ear off about Vy. It took longer than usual to get her to sleep. He needed to see his daughter asleep before leaving. He had been adamant about them never accompanying him to the airport when he left. Seeing her walk away while he remained alone in the Orsino airport was hard, but he could bury himself in work and in his familiar surroundings once they were gone. If he saw her at the airport when he was about to leave, he would never get on the plane.
He helped Christine clear the kitchen. His flight would leave in six hours, but he was going to pack his things and leave as soon they finished. They worked in silence, and sooner than he wished, Christine was loading the dishwasher. He couldn't postpone it any longer.
"We have to talk," he said.
She turned to look at him, and nodded. Her bright grey eyes soothed his anxiety. The strong bond between them hadn't been damaged by the failure of their marriage. They could rebuild their relationship on such a strong foundation.
"This weekend wasn't exactly how I imagined it," she said.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"It was better."
He perked up at her words. He would have thought that having Vy around had messed up their reconciliation. His heart was bleeding, but he would step on that blood to reclaim his family.
"We made a good call," she said. "It took us a while, but we finally managed to divorce and it would be a mistake to change that."
"No," he said immediately. "It wouldn't be. I want us back."
She sat down across the table and looked at him with the so much warmth and love he felt his defensive ice walls thawing. She was going to melt down the ice and get through to the wound he tried to conceal.
"You never lied to me before," she said. "So I have to consider that maybe you're lying to yourself."
He hung his head. "Nothing happened," he said, almost believing that, afraid of losing the chance to have his family back and afraid to be free at the same time.
"Whose fault is that?" Christine asked with a sly smile. "I bet you drove the girl crazy and you think you did the right thing not doing what you want."
He started at the words, and Christine shook her index finger at him, like a kindergarten school teacher catching a naughty toddler who tried to look innocent next to a broken window.
"You turn into a robot when she's around," she said. "I've not often seen you do this. It was fine and admirable when we were married and you were attracted to a random woman. You've been a wonderful husband, Andrew. For fifteen years. But you're not a husband any more."
"I wanted us to work again," he said.
"You are so stubborn," Christine said laughing. "I love it when people say you're patient. Or lenient or forgiving. Or a perfectionist. All of those things are true, but the reality is that you are stubborn. You will forgive a mistake or help someone because you want the world to be how you see it. Even if it takes you years, you keep chipping at reality until you change it."
"I'm working on it," he said.
"I told her that when we met, I was the right woman for you. When you ran in so dramatically, I was about to tell her that I'm not anymore."
"Don't say that."
"Why are you fighting this?" she asked.
He shook his head. He understood his reluctance, but not enough to work through his issues.
"Maybe I should go back into therapy."
"Or maybe you grab the girl and live," Christine said. "She's not going to wait around for you her whole life."
"I can't," he said, painfully pulling the words out of himself. "She has a life in front of her. A good life. I'm just her teenage crush."
"Did you even listen to her songs?" Christine asked. "Thanks to our daughter, I know them by heart. Tim is writing her love for you in each song. And Tim must know her damn well by now. That's going to be fun explaining to Diane by the way," she said with another burst of laughter. "That the very emotional songs she's humming are about her father."
"Oh, God," Andrew said, with a groan.
&
nbsp; "Am I getting through to you? We'll always be a family. You will never lose Diane. Not even me. Hell, for all I know we'll move back in Illyria in a few years."
His head snapped up at this. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I only took this job to make myself go through with the divorce. I love you, you stubborn idiot, and I was so comfortable being your best friend that it took me years to realize that was what we were. Friends with benefits."
He smiled sadly at her words. It was true. And if it weren't for her courage, they would have grown old together in a cozy, friendly marriage.
Christine crossed the kitchen and hugged him. He loved the familiar feel of her body in his arms. He rocked her in that embrace and put his forehead on her shoulder.
"We'll be fine," she whispered. "You're strong. And brave. And stubborn as hell."
He let out a laugh at the word. Stubborn was better than controlling, he guessed.
"I switched your plane reservation," Christine said matter-of-factly. "It leaves two hours earlier, but it's a better connection than the one you had, so you'll be in Orsino three hours earlier. Almost four hours, I think."
"What? Why?"
"Because I found you a seat on the same plane as her."
"Christine, this-"
"This is me helping you. I know you won't do anything because she's young. I saw how you looked at her with Diane. She's younger than us, but she's not like Diane. She's a grown woman and you love her."
"You shouldn't have-"
"Your seat is in first class and she's at business, but I'm sure you can do something about it."
"How do you know such details? The airlines aren't just giving away this information to curious ex-wives do they?"
She shifted in place and looked away when she answered.
"I had to ask some favors."
"That cop," he said. "He seemed very interesting in doing favors for you last time I was here."
"He's not a cop," Christine said and he could swear she blushed.
"Whatever he is, thank him for me. Or maybe you can give me his number and I'll thank him myself."
She pushed him away and went to the dishwasher to start the program.
"Don't change the subject," she said.
Light Dream Page 9
