by Lynn Stevens
Gracin sighed. “If you already agreed, why’d you bother to tell me?”
“Courtesy.”
“Whatever, Dad.”
“Glad to see we’re on the same page, son.” There was a pause. “And don’t get too attached to the redneck. There’s better fish in the sea.”
I took off running down the hall and steps until I was outside. The fresh air filled my lungs, swelling against the growing anger inside. I didn’t expect Gracin to stand up for me, but to take that shit from his father was incomprehensible. But what did I know. I was just another redneck and a notch in Gracin’s bedpost according to his father. Maybe I needed to show that jerk that I was so much more, that I was better than all of those bimbo models put together. It wouldn’t be hard. My anger deflated a little at one simple realization: It wouldn’t be hard, but it wouldn’t be necessary either. The clock had been counting down my relationship with Gracin from the beginning. It wasn’t about to change just because I wanted to prove to Albert Ford I wasn’t some redneck hussy.
Albert walked out of the theater and saw me leaning against the truck. He had no clue Gracin and I came to the theater together every day, even before we were friends with benefits.
“Did you need something else, Miss Reynolds?” He strolled up to me as if he was taking a walk along the beach.
I gave him my best smile. “Why, no sirree Bob, I’s good right where I is,” I said with the worst country twang this side of the Mississippi.
He stopped and lost all his swagger. “I take it you overheard my conversation with my son. What would your father think?”
“What would he think of you calling his daughter a redneck slut? Or what would he think of how you referred to his theater as a hellhole? Knowing my father, you wouldn’t even be able to set foot into a karaoke bar if he heard what you said.” I didn’t let my smile waver one bit as I steered the conversation away from Dad. “Now, if you must know why I’m here, I left my scooter at the cabin and rode to the theater with Gracin, as we’ve done since his truck arrived. Without any, oh how would a redneck say it, without any hanky panky going on.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth, little girl.” There was the Albert Ford I’d seen with Gracin. All malice and threats, but not a single bite.
“You wouldn’t want me to run to Daddy, would you? Lose all the money you’re raking in from Gracin’s performances?” He flinched and I kept on attacking. “What would you do if Gracin decided to quit singing, Al? My best guess is you’d be broke and living in a box on the side of the road.”
“Don’t threaten me. My son would never let that happen. And I won’t let white trash like you corrupt his mind.” He pointed at me, almost sticking his finger where I could bite it off. “You keep your panties on around him. If I find out you’re fucking my son, I’ll ruin you.”
I leaned in so he wouldn’t miss a single word. “Try it, Al. I’m not the one who’ll be ruined.”
Albert stared at me for several seconds before stepping back with his fake smile plastered across his face. “Very well, Miss Reynolds. I see we won’t come to any kind of agreement. Just remember what I said tonight when you’re spreading your legs. A little redneck bitch like you won’t change the course I’ve set for my son.”
He turned on his heel and sauntered to the rented BMW parked at the other end of the lot. I watched the bastard drive away until the taillights become nothing but a fading red dot in my vision.
“Hey, you waited.” Gracin walked toward me with exhaustion covering his features. A conversation with Albert Ford would do that to anyone.
I smiled, fake at first, turning genuine when I looked in Gracin’s eyes. The idea of the tour must’ve been haunting him. Hopefully, he could get out of it. But that was a problem for later. “Of course. I wasn’t about to let your father run me off, Gracin. Now,” I pulled the tickets out of my back pocket, “how about that movie?”
Gracin put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a quick kiss. “That sounds like a great idea.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The alarm went off on my phone, jolting me awake. My eyes didn’t want to adjust to the dark room, until it hit me like an anvil where exactly I’d woken up. Gracin’s arm tightened over my waist as I sat up. Crap, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Reaching for my phone while trying to free myself from the tangled sheets didn’t work out so well. I fell off the bed with a loud thunk and grabbed my phone at the same time. Unfortunately, I hit answer, because it wasn’t my alarm at all.
“Carly?” Dad’s voice drifted out of the tiny speaker. My eyes widened as I stared at the screen with Dad’s avatar, a photo of Stalin. I’d changed it the day after my sentencing for wrecking the Mercedes. Panic filled his voice. “Are you there? Carly?”
“Yeah, I’m here.” I scraped my foot as I pulled it out of the bed. “What’s up?”
Gracin leaned up, the sheet falling off his bare chest. He ran his hand down his face and opened his mouth. I yanked at the sheet to get his attention and put my finger over my lips.
“Are you even listening to me?” Dad’s voice snapped me back to attention.
“Um … Sorry, Dad, I’m half asleep.” I yawned into the phone. How in the hell was I going to explain this?
“Where exactly did you fall asleep?” Each word clipped like a shod horse on pavement.
My brain froze. I wanted to lie, but nothing popped into my head. “Um …”
“Carly,” he said, dragging my name out into five syllables, one for each letter.
“Fine, but you have to promise you won’t be mad.” I sighed into the phone. Maybe if I acted put out, he’d back off.
“No, I don’t.”
“Then I don’t have to tell you where I’m at.” Matching his tone, getting defensive: all ploys to make him feel more like the bad guy than the good parent. It’d worked for three years—no reason why it wouldn’t keep working.
“Don’t try to tell me you’re at Nena’s or Ivy’s. I already called.”
Shit. Time for some truth. “I wasn’t going to, Dad.” I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. Glancing at Gracin, I mouthed “I’m sorry” before throwing him under the bus. He reached out to stop me, but it was too late. “I’m at Gracin’s.” Gracin slapped his hand to his forehead and fell back on the bed. I rushed through the rest of my partial truth as fast as possible. “He started going all diva after the show, thinking one of the dancers tried to sabotage a routine because she didn’t like it. I needed to calm him down before he went off the deep end.”
Dad didn’t say anything, so he either mulled it over or wanted to call me out for lying. I didn’t dare say a word.
Gracin rolled to his side, propping himself with his elbow. He wiggled his eyebrows. Great, now he wanted to get flirty.
“Where is Gracin now?” Dad’s tone softened a bit, but the tension seeped through the phone anyway.
“Standing in front of me.” I reached out and playfully smacked his leg. “I’m sure he’s wondering why I’m here as much as you are.”
Gracin licked his lips, leaning toward me. I tried to scoot away, but my back hit the wall. There wasn’t anywhere to go, and Gracin knew it. He slid his hand up my bare arm, over my shoulder and behind my neck.
“And where exactly are you?” Dad’s voice sounded far away as Gracin bent his head, grazing his lips over the tender skin of my neck.
“Um … living room.” I spit the words out, biting back the moan Gracin generated by kissing me this way.
“So, he just let you fall asleep on his couch?”
“Mmm … He kinda didn’t know.” I pushed Gracin away to think, to focus. “I wasn’t going to leave until he fell asleep, Dad. Once he did, I sat on the couch to relax and must’ve dozed off.”
Gracin leaned back in, but I pushed him away with all my strength.
“Carly, I want you to be honest with me. Is there something going on between you and Gracin Ford?”
I closed my eyes, wishing
for a time machine to unhear the question. I’d lied by omission over the years. I’d lied by telling partial truths. It was how I kept my integrity when it came to my father. I hated lying, but sometimes it was the only way to keep the peace. Little white lies about where Gracin was, or where I was, those didn’t count. And I’d never outright lied to Dad, outright lied about something that shouldn’t be lied about. Until now. “No.”
Dad might’ve been nodding in agreement or he might’ve been shaking his head. Either way, the guilt stone grew heavier in my chest.
“I’ll be home in twenty,” I said when he didn’t respond. The silence pushed that stone farther down. “Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
The difference between Dad silence and hang-up silence is that I could hear Dad breathing when he was still on the line. He’d never hung up on me without saying goodbye.
The phone fell from my hand, and I started crying. Gracin didn’t say a word. He pulled me onto the bed and wrapped his arms around me until the tears wouldn’t come.
“I’m sorry, Carly. This is my fault.” Gracin squeezed me against him and kissed the top of my head. “If I hadn’t totally exhausted you, you would’ve been home by now.”
I snort-laughed and turned my head to stare into his face. “Yes, you did.” I touched his cheek. “And I would do it again if I could.”
Gracin’s smile lit up the dark room. “Oh, you can.”
It may have been meant for a laugh, but I didn’t think it was funny. It only took seven minutes to get to my house. That left thirteen for me to show Gracin just how right he was.
∞ ∞ ∞
Going to Golf-A-Round sounded like a good idea. It was one of my favorite places in Branson. Nena, Ivy, and I were expert mini-golfers, and Golf-A-Round was our course of choice. Most of the mini-golf courses kept getting bigger and “better,” which I considered false advertising. Still, fine by me. Golf-A-Round wasn’t as crowded as the touristy courses on Highway 76.
Besides showing Gracin what fun was really like, I wanted to see my friends. Nena and Ivy had taken a major backseat over the last two weeks. It never should be like that, but I had limited time with Gracin. Of course I had limited time with Nena and Ivy too. At least, I’d known them forever. When I looked back on my life at ninety, I’d have a ton of memories of my friends, but only this summer with Gracin. I wanted to make it as memorable as possible.
“Hey, chica, comp a girl a round of golf?” I asked the back at the window.
Nena spun around with a crooked smile that turned into a clown-like evil grin when she saw Gracin standing behind me. “Well, hello, Jonathan. You must be the reason Carly’s been too busy to hang out with her best friends.”
Ivy leaned over Nena’s shoulder. “Not that we blame her. “
“So, the evil boss let you get off for the afternoon? Or did he have to head over to Hopewell for another round of rehab?” Nena smiled, but her eyes reflected her annoyance.
Wow, talk about hitting below the belt. Gracin tensed behind me, but I laughed it off. Nena’s thinly veiled anger didn’t need to be directed at him anyway. She might be pissed at me, but she needed to keep it between us. There’d be time later to hash it out.
“Well, there wasn’t much to do.” I smiled as if her words weren’t daggers. “He’s slaving over the lighting again, like he does every day. Even the band’s getting tired of showing up at two for sound checks.”
“If he had boobs, he’d be a diva,” Gracin said. How he kept a straight face, I had no idea, but I certainly couldn’t. Gracin’s hands slid around my waist, and he pulled me back against him. “Didn’t realize I was that funny, Carly,” he said into my ear loud enough for Nena and Ivy to hear.
“You have no idea, G … onathan.” I pursed my lips, hoping neither one of the girls caught my almost slip. Gracin’s fingers dug into my stomach. “Can you guys take a break and play a round?”
Nena shook her head as Ivy said, “Sure thing.” Ivy glanced at Nena and rolled her eyes. “I’m up for it. I can only play a few holes.”
“You’re not coming, Nena?” In all our years, we’d never fought or even raised our voices. Nena’s sudden chill toward me left me baffled.
She raised her eyebrows. “Sorry if I disappoint you, Carlsbad, but I took my break already.”
Ivy came through the door by the ticket window. She held three putters and three different color golf balls. “Not that Chuck would care,” Ivy said to me, “but she did just come off break.”
I nodded, taking the red ball and a putter. Ivy smiled graciously at Gracin as she handed him a set of his own. We walked toward the first hole, a simple straight shot or so it seemed. The subtle inclines in the green took me four years to master. Ivy went first, wiggling her butt as she took aim. I glanced back at the ticket window, but Nena wasn’t visible. A family of four stood in front of the window, blocking the view.
Ivy’s hand fell on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Carly. She thought you were working your ass off, not getting your ass waxed by hotness.”
I laughed and turned around in time to see Gracin’s gentle putt not quite doing the job. “Yeah, he’s pretty great.”
Ivy didn’t say anything as she pushed me forward. I placed my ball on the dot and angled my body to the left just a fraction of an inch. The easiest hole on the course was misleading. I tapped the ball harder than seemed necessary. The golf ball bounced off the wood railing on the left across the entire green to slam into the rail on the right. It then careened toward the back wall, hitting the sweet spot marked by years of people figuring out how to win before gliding toward the hole and circling the edge like a penny in one of those whirly coin donation things at the grocery store. It clinked into the tin cup.
“Seriously?” Gracin’s mouth formed a perfect oval. He pointed toward the end of the green. “Seriously?”
I stepped up to him and smacked his ass. “Seriously.”
Ivy laughed as she moved toward her ball and tapped it in. Gracin took two more putts before he managed to complete the hole, much to the chagrin of the family behind us. Ivy led the way to the next hole with Gracin trailing back beside me.
“You never cease to amaze me, Carly Reynolds,” he said as he wrapped his arm around my waist.
“I try.” Smiling up at him, the world felt right. The stars aligned perfectly. The poles balanced. Peace draped over Branson. Nothing could make what I had with Gracin wrong.
He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “Don’t ever stop.”
The words were meant to be sweet, loving even, but they stabbed at my heart. I had to stop when I left for school. If I’d learned anything over the last few weeks with Gracin, it was the simple fact I didn’t want to stop. Ever.
And I could never tell him.
Each hole, my playing skill disappeared. I watched Gracin’s every move. Listened to his every word with Ivy. They flirted playfully, but it was just for fun. Would he do that with another girl the minute I was out of his life? The thought tore through my heart. At the Windmill hole, Gracin’s smooth putt slid through the tiny building with expert timing. Talk about a metaphor for our relationship.
God, melodramatic much, Carly. Get your head out of your butt. This is supposed to be a fun summer fling. Nothing more. Scolding myself didn’t help.
“You okay?” Ivy asked.
I jumped, having forgotten where she was. If I could be totally honest with anybody on this planet, it was Ivy. Well, and Nena, but she was pissed at me. The tear hovering on the edge of my eye slipped. I wiped it away quickly, but not fast enough.
“Carly, what’s going on?” Ivy asked. The only time she ever sounded so concerned was when I was physically hurt.
“I don’t want him to go,” I whispered, hating the truth. Hating how I felt. This wasn’t part of the deal. This wasn’t the plan.
“Oh my God. I never thought I’d see the day.” Ivy forced me to look at her. “You’re in love with Jonathan.”
“What?
” I pulled away from her. “No. I just … I like hanging out with him. That’s all.”
“If that was all, honey, you wouldn’t be acting like this.” Ivy crossed her arms and stared toward the windmill. Gracin walked around it, taking a wide berth to avoid the wooden blades. “If he was just a notch in your bedpost, you wouldn’t shed a single tear over him.”
Gracin raised his shoulders and held out his hands in the universal sign asking “What’s taking you so long?”
Ivy moved to the starting point and set her ball down. Before she took her putt, she glanced over her shoulder. “Ask yourself something, Carly. What if you weren’t going to Nashville? What if he wasn’t going back to wherever he came from? What would happen then?”
Without looking, Ivy took her shot. Right through the center of the building. By the sound of Gracin’s “woohoo,” I knew it was a hole in one. Lucky girl.
Gracin leaned around the building, waving me on. The smile on his face, the glow in his cheeks, and just the general way he stared at me were all I needed to know I was the lucky one here, not Ivy.
What would happen if we were both staying in Branson? It didn’t matter, because it wasn’t going to happen. There wasn’t any reason to fantasize about anything after August twenty-seventh. It would only lead to heartbreak. And that wasn’t part of the deal either.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The show was a well-oiled machine. Gracin cut back on the rehearsals, much to the band’s joy, to hang with me. His diva-hectic schedule toned down to normal celebrity upkeep, which made my job so much easier. Instead of scheduling appointments on a whim, I had the rest of the summer planned up until the last show. The only things to worry about were last minute nitpicks, and those had become rare.
So far, the heat had waved in and out, but the beginning of July usually meant a solid two-month walk on the sun heat. I hated living here this time of year. If the heat didn’t kill me, the humidity would. I’d avoided Dad at all costs. My instincts told me he was doing the same. If we both pretended my sleepover at Gracin’s had never happened, we might be able to meet each other’s eyes before I left for Nashville.
