Page 47 of One More Made Up Love Song
Mom
I’m so glad she’s safe. Will she stay with you until you’re back in Tennessee?
Ivy
We only have one more show before the break, and it’s tonight, so she can travel back with me. Freddie won’t mind.
Mom
Not now, he won’t. ;)
The winking emoji makes me smile, even as it triggers a tiny twinge of guilt I choose to ignore.
Ivy
I’ll call you once Carina is up and we’ve had thechance to talk.
Mom
Thanks. I’m glad you’re there for her. So grateful for you and your steadying presence.
I read her last text two times before I set the phone face down on the counter and reach for my laptop. That’s always been my role when it comes to Carina. Keep her safe. Help her make good choices. Set a good example.
I don’t mind it. Not really. But sometimes I hardly feel capable of making good choices formyself,much less someone else, my present circumstances notwithstanding.
After reading—and ignoring—a few more Freddie-related messages from old friends, approving a stack of invoices from the tour’s catering team, and reading through the first draft of Kat’s press release, I order Carina a new cell phone and make arrangements for it to be delivered to the hotel before we leave in the morning.
“Ivy?”
I jump off the closed toilet seat where I set up office and fling open the door. “Hey! You’re awake!”
Carina’s face is flushed, but her eyes are clear, and a wave of relief washes over me.
She yawns. “What time is it? Did I sleep all night?”
“It’s almost eight.” I move to the dresser where I left a latte for her. I pick it up and carry it over. “It’s still warm,” I say, handing her the cup. “I don’t know how they insulate these so well. Magic, probably.”
She takes it with one hand while she rubs her eyes with the other, smudging a little mascara onto her cheek. “Where’s Freddie?”
“A few rooms over. Probably still asleep. He has a show tonight. How are you feeling?”
She takes a long sip of her latte before looking around the room like she can’t quite figure out how she got here. “Foggy,” she finally says.
“I bet.” I move over to my bag and pull out some acetaminophen, then take them back to her. “You’ll probably need these.”
She nods gratefully and swallows them down.
There are a million questions coursing through my brain, the loudest one being,What on earth were you thinking?!But what’s done is done. Asking that question isn’t going to change anything that already happened.
I sit on the edge of the bed and tug my feet up, crossing them under me. “How much do you remember about yesterday?”
She frowns. “Bits and pieces. It was bad, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. You were pretty out of it.” I hesitate a beat before asking, “Was it just alcohol?”
She quickly nods. “I didn’t do any of the harder stuff. I mean, not really. I had some weed yesterday morning. I was probably a tiny bit high when you showed up.”
“But have you been drinking every day? You were at the beach house, what, two weeks? Please tell me you weren’t just partying the whole time.”
