Page 53 of Love Me Steadfast
“A little birdie told me you’ve got more material. Why not play some of it? Just a few songs.”
“Dad,” I groan. A duet of a Beatles tune around a campfire is one thing. Though he’s right, we do have more material. Nothing I’m ready to share with the world though.
He pulls into my violin teacher’s neighborhood. “It’d be good for Morgan.” Though he keeps his tone light, I catch the undertone of worry.
Wouldit be good for her? Morgan loves the spotlight, so she’d be tickled freaking pink. But from years of watching my dad wrangle musicians, the industry has a dark side that I’m not sure would be such a good influence.
But maybe it would help Morgan and Dad connect? Give Morgan something positive to cling to?
Since Dad grounded Mo for being MIA for almost twelve hours, life at home has been tense. Dad is spending more time with us, but it’s stressing him out because The Limelight needs him too. For one second I allow myself to miss Mom. But even if Mom were here, there’s a very good chance she’d only make things worse.
“Singing in front of all those people sounds…intimidating.” I huff a nervous breath through my nose. Because of the liquor laws, we’d be allowed to play but not to mingle afterwards. And there’d be no friends in the audience.
“Everyone gets nervous, pumpkin,” Dad replies as he turns into Miss Tyler’s driveway. “You’d be fine once you got up there. With the lighting, it’s not like you’ll really see anyone.”
Yeah but they’ll see me.
My throat closes around a prickly lump. “Not helping,” I manage as I picture myself frozen up on the stage.
Dad shoots me a warm smile. “I’ll keep the slot open for you while you give it some thought.”
I keepthe idea to myself for a few days, mulling it over because I already know Morgan’s answer.
At lunch, once my friends and I are settled on our corner of the floor in Red Pod, I spill the news.
Emmie’s gasp is muffled by her giant bite of her tuna fish sandwich. She covers her mouth, eyes wide. “Are you freaking serious?” she says into her fingers.
Wren’s face lights up. “This could be your big break!”
Laughing quietly, I shake my head. “Yeah, right.”
“Your dad’s giving you guys a shot, though,” Emmie says, taking a thoughtful sip of her iced coffee. “I mean, it’s about time.”
“Just cuz we’re his kids doesn’t mean we should get special treatment.” I pop a potato chip into my mouth.
“It’s kind of messed up that it took you two going ‘baby’ viral for him to notice, though,” Wren says, narrowing her eyes.
“Are you gonna say yes?” Emmie asks, her sandwich paused on the way to her mouth.
A flush of nerves cascades over my skin. “I don’t know if we’re ready. Plus, we need at least one guitar and I’m not good enough yet.”
“Play that song you wrote with your violin,” Wren says, wagging her finger at me. “I’ve always said you’re gonna be the next Sara Watkins.”
My cheeks feel hot as I shake my head. “No way. She’s a freaking genius.”
“So are you!” Emmie insists.
I try to laugh this off but it just makes me feel more off-kilter. “I wish you guys could be there. It would help.”
“We could stand outside,” Emmie says. “Listen through the windows.”
“I’ll bring my duck call so you’ll know we’re there,” Wren says.
A duck call to signify my first night singing on stage feels oddly perfect. “How would you get down there at that hour?”
“I bet my mom would come with us,” Emmie says with a shrug. “Or we could ride our bikes.”
“You guys are awesome,” I say.
