Pucker Up

by Seimas, Valerie

  “Sounds like a good friend,” Trevor said. “And a smart one. Your songs do have power.”

  “Power to send people into depression,” she murmured.

  “Hey, look at me.” Faith didn’t want to and struggled to meet his gaze. “You write more than sinking down. I hear the climbing out. Key of Angst is the most hopeful song I’ve ever heard.”

  She turned, the emotions struggling to spill out. What was it with these kind, boyish men that kept making her crack? But she knew the answer to that – they reminded her too much of the one she’d run from.

  “I don’t want people to ask me about how I write songs. I sit on the floor with my guitar, slice apart my heart, and bleed. I don’t want to hear what people think about them. I don’t want to know that you hear hope. Hope is the girl that smiles and sings and tries to walk in the light. That girl of the dark, she doesn’t have any hope. There shouldn’t be any hope.”

  She turned on him, couldn’t help it, soul laid bare by the fact he was standing there saying things she’d tried a decade to forget. “I don’t want her to have hope. Hope ruins her. Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to just scream at the damn word and make it leave?” Her fingers crumbled the page in her hand, wishing she still had the statue so she could hurl it at the wall.

  “My life would be so much better off without hope. I could have settled down with a nice generic guy, had a blissfully content existence. But no, I had to hope for everything I lost to stupidity and fear. That I keep losing. I don’t want it. I don’t want to hope. I won’t.”

  Trevor wrapped her up in a hug and let her cry, making comforting noises against her hair. He knew something about women on the verge of a breakthrough, daring to want something that they thought out of reach. He was good at being cried on – he just hoped the guy she cried for was worth it.

  Chapter 20

  Dustin entered the house well after sunrise, surprised the kitchen was still empty. The whole house should be up by now, settling back into the familiar routine of life without pop stars. He opened the fridge and resisted the urge to grab a beer, settling for the carton of milk instead.

  “You’re up early,” Peter said, unease in his gaze.

  “I’m up late. Never went to bed.” He could feel the weight of his brother’s stare on his back. “No, I’m not drunk.” He’d reverted back to his most effective distraction – exhaustive physical labor.

  “Have you decided?”

  “Decided what?” Dustin asked, turning to look at his brother and taking a long drink of milk.

  Peter’s eyes darted to the stairs. “If you’re going to sign the papers.”

  He shook his head and turned away, closing off the subject from discussion. Part of him wanted to make her suffer, make her feel some of his pain. A long, drawn-out, contentious legal battle might just be the trick. Then again, the other part of him just wanted to be done with her for good. He was tired of all of this bullshit, tired of letting her have any grasp on his heart. Ready to evict her and go looking for that happy ending he promised Harmony he’d find. Speaking of Harmony…

  “Where is the troublemaker this morning?” he asked.

  Peter’s forehead creased as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “I don’t know. You’re right. She should be down here by now.” He yelled her name up the stairs. “Probably overslept what with all the hoopla this weekend.”

  “Hoopla?” Dustin asked with a raised brow.

  “Yes, hoopla.” He tapped his fingers on the island for a moment before yelling her name again, still no answer.

  Peter sighed and bounded back up the stairs. “If she’s still in bed, we’re going to be late for school, and I’m blaming you.”

  “What did I do?” Dustin asked with faux indignation though he was smiling inside. It felt like their life was getting back to normal.

  The feeling was short-lived; the next moment Peter was running down the stairs screaming his name. “Dustin! She’s not there. She’s not upstairs.”

  Dustin ran outside and around the back of the house. The jalopy he’d been fixing up for her wasn’t in the yard. “Her car’s gone,” he said, jogging back into the house.

  The color drained from Peter’s face. “That car’s still a death trap – she couldn’t have gotten far in it. What the hell is she doing?”

  “Off tracking down some mystery,” Dustin growled. “She’d leave you a note, though. There’s a note here somewhere.”

  They searched the counters and computer desk in the corner and came up empty. Their eyes met, and understanding passed between them. They rushed into the foyer and there, on top of Peter’s bag, was indeed a note in Harmony’s cheery scrawl. Peter opened it and started reading, his brows getting closer and closer together before he cussed.

  “What does it say?” Dustin asked.

  “What do you think it says?” Peter said, anger clear in his voice. “I can’t believe this.”

  “What?”

  “Went to go find Uncle Dust his happy ending. Sorry about school – me and Mel will be fine,” Peter read.

  “Fuck,” Dustin said, barely restraining himself from punching the wall.

  “How much of a head start do you think she has on us?” Peter asked.

  “About to get smaller,” Dustin said, grabbing his truck keys.

  “This is a really stupid idea,” Melody said, looking over at her sister in the passenger seat.

  “Probably,” Harmony shrugged, her impish grin on full display. “Just be glad I let you take your test first.” Harmony had showed up at the dorm before her sister had even gotten up that morning but stayed, smartly, out of sight until after she left for class. When Melody returned later and saw Harmony sitting on her bed reading, she thought she was hallucinating from too much studying.

  “When I encouraged you to continue on with this happy ending thing, this was not what I meant. Can I just get that on the record?”

  “Fine,” Harmony said, “then text Dad and tell him none of it was your idea. Go on, do it.”

  Melody looked at her phone, considering. Dad had been texting them both all morning, and none of it was good. “He can’t ground you. You’re in college.”

  “I kinda want to come home this summer and not be confined to bread and water.”

  “Eh, it’s not that bad.” Harmony grinned.

  “I’m serious.” Melody scoffed. “And I really don’t think this harebrained scheme is going to work. At all. So you’re dead for nothing.”

  “You just let me worry about that,” her younger sister said with a twinkle in her eye. “Romeo and Juliet died for love. I think I can handle Dad.”

  “How did you get to be no nauseatingly optimistic?” Melody asked, her hand on the door handle.

  “I know you love it,” Harmony replied, bounding out of the car with purpose. She squared her shoulders and walked into the building like she owned it, stopping at the receptionist’s desk with a smile. “Hi. Faith West gave us her business card and said we could come see her in the studio for a tour. Here it is.”

  The receptionist took the card and gave them bored expressions. She turned it over and yawned. “Nice try, kids, but no.”

  “She seriously gave that to me,” Melody piped in, “and told me to come by. It says so on the back. ”

  “Well,” the brunette said with a barracuda smile, “that’s nice. But she didn’t mean it.”

  “I think she did,” Melody argued, her voice rising. She snatched the card back from the receptionist and glared at her. “What now?” she whispered to her sister.

  “Plan B,” she whispered back. “We want to speak to Jackson Shaw,” Harmony said to the lady behind the desk.

  The gatekeeper laughed. “Mr. Shaw is much too—”

  “He’ll want to talk to us, guaranteed. Tell him an Andrews is here to see him.” When the lady didn’t move, Harmony put on her most winningest smile. “Listen, I know you must get people in here all the time that don’t belong. Trying to sneak
their way in to catch a glimpse of a celebrity or the elusive Andy Peters. But that’s not us. And wouldn’t it be a real shame if this one time, you didn’t make one little phone call just to check, and you lose your job over it. That would really suck, right?”

  The receptionist rolled her eyes and picked up the phone. “Mr. Shaw, there is an Andrews here to see you.” She nodded for a moment before hanging up the phone and giving them an annoyed expression. “Mr. Shaw will be out in just a moment. Please take a seat.”

  Three minutes later, Jackson Shaw appeared in the lobby. “You are not the Andrews I was expecting.”

  “We’re full of surprises. Let’s talk,” Harmony said, walking past him down the hallway he’d just exited.

  “Hi, I’m Melody, the saner sister.”

  “Yet you still let her drag you here,” Jackson said with a smile.

  “Still her sister,” Melody shrugged.

  Jackson led them into a spacious corner office with huge windows looking out across the city. He gestured at a couch for them to sit on and settled in an armchair nearby instead of behind his massive desk. “So, Andrews, what can I do for you?”

  Harmony cut right to the chase. “We want to see Faith.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

  “She invited us. She gave Melody her business card last week and said to come by and get a tour of the studio. See.” Melody handed him the card, and he turned it over. From the look on his face, they knew he recognized her handwriting. “And don’t say she’s not here because it says when we should come by too.”

  “Girls, I know you mean well. But I’ve known Faith for a really long time. And I just don’t think seeing an Andrews, any Andrews, right now is a good idea.”

  “I just want to help her,” Harmony said, looking determined.

  “That’s all I want, too.” He gave them a kind smile and stood, signaling the end to the conversation.

  “I know,” Harmony blurted.

  “Shut up,” Melody whispered, glaring at her sister.

  “Excuse me?” Jackson said.

  “I know. We know. Everything.”

  Jackson sat back down. “And what… everything… do you think you know?”

  “I don’t think I know. I know.”

  Jackson turned his attention to Melody. “Saner sister, please explain.”

  The girls exchanged meaningful looks before she answered. “Harmony recorded the conversation you had with our dad and uncle when you were at the house.”

  Surprise crossed Jackson’s face, and he leaned forward in his chair, eyes piercing through both of them. “You realize that California is a two-party consent state, and it’s illegal to record conversations without consent from all parties unless you have a court order.”

  “They don’t really cover that in history class.” Harmony said before continuing on as if he hadn’t spoken. “But the point remains that I know. Everything.”

  “What I think she means,” Melody said, “is that we know the whole story. And we really do think we can help.”

  “Yeah, I’m not blackmailing you about Andy Peters or anything. Not at all.”

  “Harmony!” her sister said through clenched teeth.

  Jackson was quiet for a long time. Finally he reclined back in his seat and smiled. “People underestimate you, don’t they?”

  “All the time,” Harmony said. “It’s the grin. Way too cheery to be taken seriously.”

  “I won’t make that mistake again,” he said. “Okay, fine. Tell me what your plan is, and then I’ll decide whether or not to take you to Faith.”

  Melody couldn’t believe it – they were in!

  Faith sat in the booth of the recording studio, alone, staring at the microphone she should have been singing into. She’d sent the rest of the personnel away. Her voice was way too ragged from all the crying she’d done the night before to lay down any good tracks. She’d tried to beg out of coming, but Jackson had insisted blowing off her routine and wallowing was absolutely no way to move on.

  Move on. He kept saying those words to her, like that hadn’t been what she’d been trying to do for the last ten years. The universe was refusing to let her. Every time she got to a place where she thought it might be possible, something else reminded her it wasn’t.

  She reached for the glass of lemonade on the table. It was halfway to her lips before she stopped and reconsidered. Maybe Dustin had the right idea. How could she move on if the taste was always on her lips, the memories just a scent away? She put the glass down, untouched, but shook her head ruefully. It would never just be the scent. It was the song. The song that had been playing in the back of her head for the last twenty-four hours. The song Trevor and her tears had stopped her from finishing the night before. Their song.

  Faith shot up out of her chair and left the booth. This was ridiculous; she wasn’t a child and she could do whatever she damn well pleased. And right now that meant retreating back to her house where she wouldn’t be required to be Faith West at all.

  “Faith,” Jackson called from behind her.

  She sighed and stamped her foot in agitation as she turned towards him. “Jackson, I’m done. I don’t care about all the perfectly valid reasons I should stay. I just want to…” Her voice tapered off when she saw who was with him.

  “These girls say you owe them a studio tour.” Jackson was giving her a pointed look, but Faith didn’t understand it at all. “Let’s start the tour here,” Jackson said, opening a door down the hall and waving them all into a cavernous room sometimes used to shoot music videos or rehearse choreography.

  “Is he here?” Faith asked. Her voice sounded fragile, even to her. If he was here, what did that mean? Was he fighting for her? Was it too late for that?

  “No,” Jackson said, laying a comforting hand on her arm.

  “We didn’t tell him where we were going. Though he’s probably figured it out by now.”

  “What are you guys doing here?” Faith asked, slumping into a chair.

  “You guys talk,” Jackson said, backing away and out the door.

  “You didn’t say goodbye,” Harmony said, her smile understanding.

  “You tracked me down for pleasantries?” Faith wanted to laugh, and give the girl a hug for being just that damn precocious. But she couldn’t do it, the act of being Faith West without a care in the world was just too damn much today.

  “No,” Melody said, a contemplative look on her face. She remembered Peter saying she was the perceptive one, entered battle with calmness and a quiet stare. What did she make, Faith thought, of this singer before her, held together with song lyrics and shoestring? “We came to give you something.”

  “Do you remember,” Harmony asked, “when we first had dinner, and I was surprised to learn you were Ally?” Faith nodded, and the girl continued. “Who did you think Ally was?”

  “Me, obviously,” she answered in confusion.

  The girls laughed. “You think Uncle Dust would tell us about his love life?” Harmony asked.

  “He is the most guarded person. He doesn’t talk about himself – ever,” Melody said.

  “That’s true,” Faith agreed, nodding along to their words. “Okay, then who is Ally to you.”

  The girls shared a look; Melody answered. “To us, Ally is the heroine of our favorite bedtime story.”

  Harmony smiled. “Ally and the Truly Remarkable Happily Ever After. After our mother died, we went to go live at the farmhouse with Uncle Dust.”

  “And on one of the first nights there,” Melody said, continuing the story, “there was a storm outside, and we couldn’t sleep. We called for Mom but she wasn’t there.”

  “Which started Dad crying, though he doesn’t think we heard him.”

  “So Uncle Dust came to check on us and decided to tell us a story.” Melody smiled at the memory.

  “And the story he told us was Ally and the Truly Remarkable Happily Ever After. It has an awful lot of sim
ilarities to the first Apple Lodge movie. And we thought maybe you should hear it.”

  Faith’s heart was beating a mile a minute, her brain barely comprehending what the girls were saying. “You drove all this way to tell me a bedtime story.”

  Harmony rolled her eyes. “Come on, Faith, we know it’s more than a bedtime story.” She pulled a jump drive out of her pocket and held it out to the singer. “When I went away to camp, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, so Uncle Dust recorded it for me. I think you should listen to it.”

  “Girls, I really don’t think –”

  “Where are they?” Peter burst into the room, his voice angrier than she’d ever heard it. Harmony placed the stick in Faith’s hand before turning to her father with sheepish eyes. “You two are so dead. What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was just trying to take a test,” Melody said, holding up her hands in surrender.

  “We’ll get to you later,” Peter murmured before pointing to the teenager. “Harmony Joyce Andrews, what part of don’t drive that car did you not understand?”

  “It needed a road test eventually. And it got me here fine.” Some of the sparkle in her eyes died. “Though I’m not sure it’ll actually get anyone back.”

  “Out. Now.” His tone of voice brokered no argument, and the girls marched out the door, one backwards glance at Faith. Peter mouthed an apology before following them, but he didn’t have her attention. None of them did. Not since Dustin arrived two steps behind his twin, looking, if possible, even angrier.

  The door slammed closed, and the air in the room stilled. If she was alone with Dustin again a decade from now, it would have been too soon, and now here he was, one day later. He looked anything but friendly. Her greeting this time was not going to be any more cordial than the last one. She stood, unable to stay seated.

  “I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice low and lethal.

  “It was a surprise to me too,” she murmured.

  “So you didn’t know every moment you were in my house acting like you were just passing through?” he snarled.