Page 138 of A Major Puck Up

We’re sitting side by side at the piano, and she’s helping me work through a bridge. I thought it was perfect when I finished it, and maybe the old me would have been upset that she’s tweaking it, but as she plays the updated version, my heart beats wildly in my chest.

“You don’t have to use that, but what do you think?” She turns to me, wearing a nervous expression.

“Lake, that was—” I stumble at a loss for words.

“Seriously,” she says, ducking her head, “I shouldn’t have stepped on your toes. Your way was great.”

I put a gentle hand on her arm. I can see it now, how she’s worked to gain my approval for the last two years. How she’s put up with her husband’s bratty daughter and his awful ex-wife, always keeping a smile on her face, because she truly loves my dad.

“It’s perfect. The second you added that melody, the song transformed.”

Her cheeks flush. “You did the hard work. I know how difficult it is to get it this far. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been ready to record, and one of the producers shifts my hands on the keys, and that little switch turns the song into a hit.”

“I’m sure they’re incredible without the input.”

Lake’s brown ponytail swings as she shakes her head. “Sometimes it takes another ear to recognize what we can’t. But this is your song, and it’s a beautiful one. I’d buy it in a second?—”

My heart jumps, and I smile wide?—

“But…”

That one word sends my stomach plummeting.

“I think you should record it.”

Chest suddenly tight, I force a laugh. “What?”

Lake stands and leans against the piano, looking down at me. “You have the talent, Millie. I get why you’ve shied away from performing. You’ve seen the limelight, and you don’t seem like someone who wants to live in it.”

I shake my head. I definitely don’t.

“But you have the talent. You could just record. You don’t have to go on tour. You don’t have to do”—she waves a hand up and down her body—“all this.”

I laugh. “I don’t think anyone can do that. You’re one in a million.”

Vivi screeches, drawing our attention to where she’s swinging back and forth, reaching for her butterflies again. For a long moment, it’s quiet. The two of us watch her, matching smiles on our faces.

When I turn back to face Lake, she’s resting a hand on her small bump. “I think my days of doing that are pretty much done.”

“Really?”

Eyes going glassy, she nods.

“Wow,” I whisper. “You’re really willing to give it all up?”

She shrugs, and when she responds, her voice is barely a whisper. “Doesn’t feel like I’m giving up anything. I’m getting every dream I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you for coming over.” I take a deep breath. “And I’m sorry if I made these last couple of years harder on you than they should have been.”

Lake shakes her head. “I get that me marrying your father—and now having a kid with him—is a lot for you.”

“But you make him happy,” I remind her. Then I smile big as I think of just how happy he’ll be when this baby is born. “And he’s the best dad in the world, so my little brother or sister will be extra lucky.” Tears fill my eyes as I realize just how much I truly miss my dad. And how nervous I am that he’ll be the one disappointed in me now.

Lake’s eyes well with tears again, but the smile that spreads across her face is blinding. “Brother.”

My heart stutters, and I shoot to my feet. “It’s a boy?”

She nods, then her eyes go wide and she covers her mouth. “Oh my god, you have to act surprised on Sunday when he tells you.”

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