Page 27 of When the Storm Breaks
“What else makes you cry?”
“Sad songs. Minor notes. Movies that don’t have happy endings. Poverty. Racism. Homophobia. Elevator music. It makes my ears bleed.” She shuddered, the blade of her knife flashing as she expertly chopped peppers and celery stalks. I tried to make out the designs on her fingers—a music note, rosary beads and a cross on her ring finger, a crescent moon and three tiny stars on her index finger. A tiny flower inked in purple. A pansy, maybe.
“What makes you cry?” she asked.
“I don’t cry.”
“What makes youwant tocry?”
“Country music.” She laughed. “Animal cruelty. Child abuse. Circuses. Fucking clowns. I hate clowns. Zoos. They’re even sadder than circuses.”
“Why?”
“I hate the idea of animals being taken out of their natural habitat and being forced to live behind bars with people gawking at them.”
“Some zoos are nice. What about safaris? Do you have an issue with them?”
“Never been on one.” I eyed her phone on the counter as it buzzed with an incoming call. “Do you need to get that?”
She glanced at it then reached over and silenced it. “It’s my brother. He’ll leave a message.”
I watched her phone light up with incoming calls and messages. Her brother obviously didn’t like being ignored. She flipped it over, so I couldn’t see the screen.
“My manager is calling now too.” She let out a weary sigh, her shoulders slumping. “I really needed this break, you know?”
“A break from what?”
She shook her head a little and gave me her back, turning on the gas ring under the pot. The oil sizzled when she added the chicken thighs and spicy sausage she’d cut up earlier. “I just finished the first two legs of my world tour. It started in Singapore. I was in Asia for the first leg and Australia and New Zealand for the second. After this break, I’m headed to Europe. Then South America before I come back to the States. And I just wanted some down time to rest up. Touring takes a lot out of you. Mentally and physically.”
I joined her by the stove and leaned my hip against the counter, drinking my cold beer while I watched her cook. “Did your Maw Maw teach you how to cook?”
“Yep. She always said that food is love.” She smiled as she added the vegetables and the spices to her stew, guided by instinct instead of using measuring spoons. “I don’t get to do it too often. I hardly ever go to the grocery store anymore. Sometimes I miss doing all the little, normal things I used to do. I wrote so many songs in the laundromat. There was just something about sitting in a laundromat and watching the clothes spin around in the washing machine that got my creative juices flowing.”
“The price of fame. A girl can’t even sit in the laundromat anymore. Add that to my list of things that make me wanna cry.”
She laughed and added rice and chicken stock to the pot, stirring the ingredients with a wooden spoon. “I never wanted to be famous. I just wanted to make a living doing something I loved.” She glanced at me. “You want to hear a secret?”
“Hit me.”
“I’m petrified.”
“Of what?”
“This tour. Every time I go out on the stage, I’m worried they’ll figure out I’m a fraud. I’m not worth the money they spent on the tickets. I’m still that girl from the Louisiana Bayou. Sometimes I still wonder... why me? Why did I make it when there are thousands of great singers and musicians out there who will never get the opportunities I have?”
“I don’t know a damn thing about the music industry, but I suspect it’s like anything else. You got a lucky break but I’m guessing you put in a shitload of hard work to get where you are.”
She nodded. “We really did. Everyone called Acadian Storm an overnight success. Like we came out of nowhere and boom, we hit the big time with zero effort. They don’t think about all the years when we were working crap jobs and begging for gigs. We were flat broke, living in roach-infested apartments and surviving on pot noodle. And now... well, now I don’t have to worry about money.”
“Ride it for all it’s worth. When you stop enjoying the ride, then it’s time to walk away.”
“Walking away isn’t so easy.”
“Never is when it’s something you love.”
“You sound like you know something about that.”
“I was a rodeo cowboy for years. A bareback bronc rider. I loved it but I hated that I loved it.”
