Times Like These

by Laura Carter

  Rosalie smiled at the wolf-whistles and screams Seth received from the field in front of the stage.

  Then Billy counted them in and Seth kicked off with a medium tempo track from his album, one Rosalie had loved the first time she heard it in the studio. It took a line, maybe two, but Seth settled quickly into the performance, singing and playing as well as he ever did, teasing the crowd as he built the track and found his stride.

  When he kicked on after the second chorus, Rosalie closed her eyes and let the rhythm of the music rock her body. When the song ended and the screams and cheers had died down, Seth thanked the audience, then started talking to them. Rosalie missed what he said because a kerfuffle of noise started up behind her. Turning to look across her shoulder, she saw a tall, broad guy, in black jeans, black shades and a black leather jacket. With his messed-up rock star hair, she could have sworn it was…

  ‘Randy?’

  Seth’s rock god brother finished signing the breasts of a woman and came to Rosalie’s side. ‘If it ain’t the designer lady.’

  ‘Hi, Randy. I didn’t realise you and the band were playing?’

  Randy folded his arms across his chest and leaned casually against a large amplifier that wasn’t in use but was on standby at the side of the stage.

  ‘We’re not.’ He gestured with his head toward Seth, who was starting up his most upbeat track, strumming his guitar and smiling like fun knew no limits. ‘I came to see him.’

  Rosalie knew that Randy was amidst a tour with his band, Armstrung. She had no idea how he had managed to make it to Nashville and she doubted he could be staying any longer than a night. She felt an overwhelming affection toward him on Seth’s behalf.

  ‘Randy Jonson, aren’t you just full of surprises? One minute you’re signing a girl’s boobs and the next you’re a doting brother.’

  Randy shrugged. ‘He’s my brother. I’ll always have his back.’

  ‘It’s really nice that you came.’

  ‘Just nice to see he’s finally doing what he was born to do. Ain’t no one in this life deserves it more than my kid.’

  Rosalie smiled. ‘He looks like he’s been doing this all his life.’

  She watched Seth tease the crowd, singing to them, winking at them, playing tricks on his guitar.

  ‘How did you know he was playing? Your dad? He’s out in the crowd, by the way. He wanted to get the whole experience.’

  ‘He’s always preferred being in the crowd,’ Randy said. ‘No, Seth told me he was playing and I couldn’t pass up his first show without me.’

  They turned back to the stage and watched Seth command the set. Rosalie dialled Sofia on video call and held up her phone to let her friend see the incredible product of all her hard work. When she got back to New York, Rosalie was convinced she was going to offer Sofia an investment in Sanfia to help promote Seth.

  After a second upbeat number, Seth said, ‘How’s about we bring it down a notch or two? Would that be all right?’

  A girl right in front of the stage called out, ‘You can do anything to me and it’ll be all right.’

  Seth laughed into his microphone. ‘I’m gonna take that as a yes, then.’

  Six minutes later, a sweaty Seth came jogging off the stage. Rosalie handed him a towel and a bottle of water, then Randy pulled him into a rough embrace and said something into his ear.

  Before even Frankie and Billy had made their way off stage, a group of young girls wearing lanyards that said they were VIPs swarmed Seth, asking for his autograph and selfies.

  Seth glanced to Rosalie, somewhere between humbled and embarrassed. Rosalie rolled her eyes and laughed. ‘Get used to it,’ she said, though she wasn’t sure he heard her over the sound of the young girls.

  She gave towels and water to Frankie and Billy, then went in search of Tim in the crowd and ushered him inside.

  After Tim had congratulated his son on a great performance, Randy announced he’d had enough – by which he meant enough of every person backstage; groupies, stagehands, managers, artists, everyone accosting him for pictures and autographs. Randy had a car waiting for him and offered to take Tim and Rosalie home. Seth and the guys wanted to soak up some atmosphere first and have a beer. He told Randy and Tim they would meet them back at the ranch.

  * * *

  Randy and Tim had been sitting on the porch, eating burgers that Tim had thrown on the grill and drinking beers. Wearing Seth’s joggers and sweater from the night before, freshly showered and with still-wet hair, Rosalie made her way outside.

  ‘Do you mind if I join you?’ she asked.

  ‘Hell, no, darlin’. Grab a seat on the swing seat there and I’ll get you a burger,’ Tim said.

  ‘Why are you staring at me like that, Randy Jonson?’ Rosalie asked. But she knew why…

  ‘I’ve just never seen you in anything other than fancy dresses, with your hair all done up and your make-up on.’

  ‘It’s shocking what sits behind the mask, isn’t it?’ she laughed, as Tim handed her a plate with a burger on it and offered her a bottle of beer.

  She pondered the beer. It wasn’t really her thing but then, none of this scene was, really. So, she took the beer with a shrug and sipped the cold drink straight out of the bottle, coughing as it went down the wrong hole.

  ‘Nope, the uptown girl is still in there,’ Randy said, making all three of them laugh.

  ‘I like it here,’ Rosalie said, after clearing her first bite of Tim’s delicious grilled meat from her mouth. ‘The air. The ranch. The music. Do you know, I haven’t heard a car horn or a siren since I’ve been here? And, it’s like, you can walk outside and not worry about who might see you, what they might say about you, whether you’ll be snapped by a magazine and have awful comments made about you like ‘Socialite, not eating after break-up’ or ‘Following her break-up from business tycoon, daughter of supermodel looks like hell’.’ She laughed sadly. ‘Who would have thought I’d feel happy in a pair of oversized jogging bottoms and a borrowed sweater, drinking beer from a bottle with no make-up on?’

  ‘Hell, not me,’ Randy said, making her laugh again.

  ‘It’s nice,’ she said, thoughtfully, chewing her food as she watched the silhouettes of Tim’s horses, grazing in the nearby paddock.

  It wasn’t long before Seth, Billy and Frankie turned up to join in the food. The guys brought out their guitars and Rosalie was, remarkably, having one of the best nights of her life, listening to Randy and Seth play ridiculous songs they had made up as kids. Watching Billy and Frankie having a ‘play-off’ to decide who was best on the electric guitar, which didn’t work, since they were declared to both be incredible.

  ‘Not quite Jimi Hendrix, but good,’ Tim had said, offering a reigning endorsement that made Billy and Frankie huff and the others highly amused.

  There were no bright lights, no shops. There was no fine dining or champagne. Yet, her life felt as full as it had ever done.

  After a while, Tim and Billy declared their night (or rather morning) was over and took themselves to bed. Frankie and Randy, who had developed a fondness of each other, or perhaps it was a mutual appreciation of bottled beer, were standing inside, choosing LPs to play on the record player, the dulcet tones of Florida Georgia Line and Tim McGraw drifting out to the porch.

  Seth sat up from where he had been lying back on the porch swing opposite the one on which Rosalie was sitting. He spread his long legs out in front of him and offered Rosalie that half-smile she was becoming quite fond of.

  ‘You look genuinely happy, Ros.’

  ‘I must look like a crazy lady, having let my hair dry naturally in this humidity.’

  Seth smirked. ‘Admittedly, your hair appears to have a life of its own but you look pretty. Don’t quote me on this but, you’re kind of beautiful, Rosalie.’

  Usually, Rosalie was great at taking compliments. She lived for compliments. But Seth, commenting on her au-naturel appearance, that made her blush.

  ‘Thank yo
u.’ Clearing her throat, she said, ‘since we’re complimenting each other, which is no doubt more beer talking than anything, you were great today, Seth. Beer or no beer. Listening to you is… I don’t have a word to describe it but you give me goosebumps.’

  ‘I scare you?’

  She laughed and enjoyed the sound of Seth laughing with her.

  ‘Another beer?’ he asked, leaning from his seat into a coolbox.

  ‘No, thank you. A crate’s my limit,’ she told him, offering a wink that was very unlike her. Enjoying the way his eyes seemed to sparkle when he was amused.

  When he came back to rest, Rosalie pulled her legs up to the swing seat and asked a question she was very curious about.

  ‘How come your dad is on his own?’

  Seth picked at the label on his bottle as he told her, ‘Mom walked out when I was five. Never seen her since. He’s had relationships here and there but I don’t think he ever got over her breaking his heart.’

  ‘So he’s never really tried again?’

  Seth exhaled slowly. ‘Have you ever had your heart broken, Ros? Truly?’

  She thought about her answer, then confessed, ‘Probably not, in honesty.’

  Seth nodded. ‘Well, it’s hard to let your guard down after you have.’

  ‘Is that why you haven’t?’

  He smirked as he drank from his bottle. ‘Maybe. Or maybe I just haven’t found the right kind of girl.’

  ‘Do you believe that people can have a type? Like, no one could, you know, break the mould?’

  ‘I’d be open to being proved wrong but, yeah, I think there’s a type.’

  ‘But you could overlook someone who is perfect for you because you have typecast them. Isn’t that a huge shame?’ As she thought that, Rosalie considered her baby daddies and the checklist she had prepared. Wasn’t that exactly what she had done? Hadn’t she requested a type – suits and shiny shoes, well-paid, likes theatre and over-priced schools?

  ‘Come on then,’ Seth said. ‘Prove me wrong. Tell me what makes you different to the it girl stereotype.’

  ‘Well, I’m not just material and dumb. I do want things from my life. I manage investments. That’s actually where my money is from, not from Daddy, like people assume. And when I have my own label, I’m going to prove to people that I am someone to be taken seriously. I’ll prove people wrong. I’m also looking for a baby daddy right now.’

  ‘A baby daddy?’

  ‘Yes. I’ve signed up to a programme to be matched with a suitable baby daddy. I figure, why keep putting my life on hold waiting for the right man to come along, when I can make the life I want myself.’

  ‘Wow, so, you’re going to start a new business and be pregnant at the same time?’

  ‘Yes. What’s wrong with that? I’m capable of it. See, you’re just like everyone else, you don’t think I can do it but I can.’

  ‘Hey, I never said you couldn’t do it. My point is, creating a new life or starting to run a new business are both all-consuming things in their own right. Why do you need to do both now?’

  It was Rosalie’s turn to pick at the label of her bottle and sigh. ‘Promise you won’t think I’m pathetic?’

  ‘Pinky swear.’

  She shrugged. ‘I want to prove I can be responsible. Both things do that. But I want a baby because… I want to come home to someone. I want someone to spend my time with. I want to love something, wholly, and for them to love me back, unconditionally. Like, no questions asked. If I’m having a bad day, they’ll love me anyway. They won’t judge me or think I’m ridiculous. I won’t have to buy things to keep up with them or to make them want to be around me.’ Without realising, tears had trickled from Rosalie’s eyes, wetting her cheeks.

  Seth stood from his seat and moved to sit next to her, taking an arm around her shoulder. It was a move Rosalie was unfamiliar with. It was completely unexpected. Yet, it was so welcome that she leaned into it, dropping her head to Seth’s shoulder.

  ‘You think I’m pathetic, don’t you? I have so many things in my life. Anything I want, but I’m lonely and unhappy. It is pathetic.’

  Seth held her chin between his forefinger and thumb and gently teased her head up until Rosalie was looking at him. ‘I do not think you’re pathetic, Ros. And actually, I think I’ve been unfair on you. I’m sorry for that. For comparing you to people I’ve known. Like you say, I don’t know you well enough to do that. But I do think that maybe you’re not sure what you want. Can I say that?’

  She sniffed, looking down to her lap. ‘I’m not sure you can, actually,’ she protested weakly, without moving from Seth’s embrace.

  ‘Look, I think you’re kind. Your heart is always in the right place. But do you actually want to run a record label, or is it about your dad proving that he trusts you enough to give you a label? Do you really want to be a single mom, or do you want real loving relationships in your life? I think when you can answer those questions, you’ll know what to work at. But in my experience, things don’t make people happy, Ros. Knowing who you are and what you want is the only way to make yourself truly happy.’

  ‘That’s rich coming from someone who is striving for superstardom,’ she argued, sitting up and moving out of Seth’s hold.

  Seth shook his head. ‘Honestly, I’d be happy having enough money to get by, my family around me, a guitar on my lap, a pencil and notebook in my hand, and the air in my lungs. You laugh at my jeans and checked shirts. I like wearing jeans and checked shirts. I don’t need expensive leather jackets and designer sunglasses. I’ve been approached by a giant music label already and I turned them down because Sofia was the first person to believe in me one night in a dive bar. She was the first person to take a chance on me and I want to be a success for her.’

  Rosalie considered his words and surprised herself when she said, ‘I wish I could be more like you, Seth.’

  He met her gaze then and told her, ‘Stop trying to be like anyone, Rosalie. Be who you want to be.’

  Did she? Did she try to be like other people? Was being like Andrea the reason she wanted a recording label? Was being like Hannah the reason she wanted to have a baby? Was being like Clarissa, Kaitlin, Madeleine, even her own mother, the reason she surrounded herself with material things?

  What did she want? Who did she want to be?

  ‘I think I’m going to go to bed,’ she said, suddenly overwhelmed and exhausted.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Seth asked.

  She tried to smile but it didn’t come. ‘I will be.’

  Seth nodded. ‘Let me walk you up.’

  As she followed Seth upstairs again, she felt a strange mix of annoyance and affection for him. He had no right to tell her that she didn’t know who she was. Yet, he cared enough to say it.

  He pushed open her bedroom door and flicked on the light, then turned to her on the threshold and stroked her wild hair back behind her ear. ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re a good person, Rosalie. Maybe I should have stopped at that downstairs.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, smiling at him before reaching up on her tiptoes and pressing her lips gently to his cheek. ‘Or maybe you told me what I needed to hear.’

  She watched his chest inflate as he inhaled deeply, his palm pressed to her cheek. Right now, she was grateful for his warm tender touch.

  ‘Thank you for letting me tag along this weekend,’ she said.

  ‘Sweet dreams, Ros.’

  ‘’Night, Seth.’

  19

  Hannah

  ‘You’re late. Again,’ Andrea snapped, before Hannah even made it to her desk outside Andrea’s office.

  She was hot, flustered and irritable from a combination of New York’s smouldering early summer and power-walking from the subway station, thanks to TJ’s reflux causing him to need another day off nursery.

  ‘I’m sorry but TJ was sick and…’

  ‘TJ is always sick!’ Andrea retorted, storming into her office and slamming a bunch of papers down on h
er desk.

  Hannah would usually back down because, ultimately, Andrea was her boss. But lately, her boss, her friend, whichever personality was turning up to work, was being a dick. And today… today Hannah was in the mood for a fight.

  She marched into Andrea’s office, closing the door behind her. ‘What is your problem today, Andi? Huh? Seems like there’s always something happening in Andrea’s world lately that means she has to treat everyone else like shit.’

  Andrea stood behind her desk and crossed her arms. ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard me. I’m seven minutes late to the office, after having to get an emergency sitter, waiting for her to arrive, then running for my train and missing it by one minute. Then, taking the next train and having to run for the subway, then running from the subway to the office. I’m seven minutes late!’

  ‘Don’t you have a husband? Isn’t the dad supposed to help? What the hell else are they there for? I bet Rod was on time for his new dream job, huh?’

  ‘No. You do not get to badmouth my husband and my family. I don’t care how long you’ve known me.’

  ‘I’m not badmouthing him more than any other man. That’s the truth, isn’t it? Women have kids and that’s the end of their life as they know it, while the man, oh he just keeps going to work, or on tour, and doing the things he loves, not giving a damn about you.’

  Of course, she did take more weight than Rod. He did swan off to work and leave her in the shit, too often. And, yeah, she needed help. She really needed support with three kids, a hell of a commute, and a full-time job with a freaking cantankerous ass of a boss of late. But she wasn’t going to cry on Rod’s shoulder and beg for help. This was life. This was her life. This was a working mom’s life. She could do it. Damn it, she could manage.

  ‘Rod gives a damn about me,’ she said. ‘Don’t you ever say he doesn’t.’

  Andrea threw her hands in the air, uncharacteristically dramatic, and walked to the window, where the argument seemed to fade into nothing.