Page 84 of Shattered Chords

Harper was right. The other day he’d told me I needed to get laid. Normally, I would protest. Sex didn’t seem important when you were raising a child alone.

I hadn’t protested then.

Because I’d been secretly wanting.

“What is this about some musician you’re seeing?” my mother asked, her voice cutting into my thoughts like the sharpest knife.

“I’m sorry?” I looked at her carefully, curious about who’d spilled the beans. Most likely Renn.

“Renn mentioned something the other day when she came over.”

I knew it. “I’m not seeing him, Mother.”

She narrowed her green eyes at me. They were just like mine, bright and lush. We shared almost the same hair color too, but hers was a bit duller from age and she kept it short, in a neat bob. “Well, tell me about him, Camille.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Oh, there was a lot to tell, most of which my mother wouldn’t like.

“What do you mean? How old is he? Is he divorced? Does he have kids? What does he do? Obviously, musicians don’t make much money. He must have a real job.”

I never contradicted my mother openly and in public places, but I felt the need to do so now, just to prove her wrong. “He actually doesn’t have a job because he’s made a fortune by playing a guitar and he doesn’t need to work.”

The words seemed to render her speechless for a long moment, but obviously, she didn’t show her disdain. Truly, she hardly showed any emotions these days.

“I hope he’s not one of those hippies.”

“No, he’s not a hippie. That was in the seventies, Mother. We live in the twenty-first century.”

“How many times has he been married?”

“Why do you always assume things?”

My mother gave a delicate shrug. Everything about her was elegant and proper and very thought through. From her carefully put-together outfits to her movements. God forbid she wasted more energy than necessary on stirring the sugar substitute that she took with her tea.

“It seems logical, doesn’t it?” She picked up her cup from the table and sipped slowly.

“He’s never been married. No kids.”

“He’s not younger than you, is he?”

“No, he’s a few years older.”

“How come he’s never been married?” She meant she wanted to know what was wrong with the man.

“I don’t know. Maybe he hasn’t met anyone.”

“Did you ask?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

She raised a brow. “And?”

“That’s what he alluded to. That he hasn’t met anyone.” BecauseI was too fucked updidn’t sound like an explanation my mother would understand.

“He sounds very suspicious.”

“Everyone sounds suspicious to you.”

“Does he get along with Ally at least?”

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