Page 8 of Free to Breathe
“All right, enough. Em, give me a few minutes with Cori,” Ali declares. You’d never know she had a baby less than six months ago, her body’s so damn tight.
“Can it wait thirty seconds while I finish the foundation? Then she has to sit still,” Em grumbles.
Ali impatiently taps her booted foot. Em pushes and pulls my face critically back and forth before muttering, “Sit still.” As she slips into her adjoining office, I’m left to deal with another one of my older sisters. The lawyer, the warrior, the one who has never broken a promise to me.
Including holding my hand through the living nightmare we survived together.
“What is it, baby? Tell me.” Ali crouches down next to me, her cobalt-blue eyes concerned.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I assure her. Nothing I haven’t handled for the last ten or so years, I remind myself.
“If Colby coming is too much, I’ll have Keene call him out on some bogus work thing,” Ali offers. Keene is Ali’s significant other.
I shake my head. “Trust me. Once we get there, we won’t be seeing the guys for a long while. Well, other than Phil.” My family has no idea what’s in store for them tonight. Brendan promised me tickets people would weep over, and when I found out what they were, I laughed myself sick. Brendan and I have chatted quite a bit since the show just to keep up with each other. When he mentioned he was going to be touring nearby and asked if I wanted to come with my family, I jumped at the chance. Short of singing with the band, I don’t think we have a better view.
“Okay. I know what Phil did was wrong, but even though I can’t bake like you, I’m willing to come in and help prep if you think it would help.”
I squeeze her shoulder. “Thanks, sweets, but no. Your downtime is meant for Keene and Kalie.”
“It’s not your burden to carry alone,” Ali argues.
Oh, if she only knew about the true burdens I carry inside. Instead, I smile at the woman who kept my mind sane for the month we were trapped together in a shipping container, when a drug consortium tried to sell us as sex slaves. We all have our scars from that time in our lives. Ali’s are profound since her father was one of the leaders of the sex trafficking ring. Fortunately, she’s been able to find some peace of mind over the years. Holly’s are vastly different. I admire my baby sister each and every day knowing I couldn’t hold the burdens she carries on my soul. Mine manifest themselves in the dark, where sleep eludes me unless I’m with someone I explicitly trust. And the last time that happened was ten years ago. Now, I don’t find rest unless a light is shining because I’m petrified of the absolute darkness.
Instead, I say, “I know. Now, let’s get Em back in here before we’re late.”
Before she can respond, I call out for our older sister. Soon, we’re caught up in final makeup touch-ups. By 6:00 p.m., a limo arrives at Amaryllis Events to pick up the girls and Phil. The guys will go to will call where the tickets are being held under Keene’s name since we’ll already be backstage with Brendan and his band.
“Hey, Cori. There’s a note for you,” Cassidy says. Even my oldest sister is sporting some short shorts and a low-cut top for the evening. She hands me the note and the bottle of champagne it’s attached to.
Taking both, I open the note up.
I’m singing one for you tonight. Since you deal with crowds so well, I might have you join me for it. See you soon. ~BB
I pass around the note, then work the cork out of the champagne. It bursts with a pop, and I quickly slug the overflowing bubbles. After filling glasses as they’re handed to me, I lift my own in a toast. “Here’s to us!”
Five other glasses touch mine before the champagne disappears.
Finally, Phil can’t take it. “Holy shit! Are we really in a limo on our way to see Brendan Blake live?” He lets out a screech that would do a thirteen-year-old girl proud.
Everyone in the limo cracks up.
Sitting back, I cross my legs. “Just wait, brother. That’s the least of what tonight has to offer.”
5
Colby
“Whose idea was it to leave them unsupervised?” Keene asks.
“God, did my wife actually do that?” Caleb asks. There’s wonderment in his voice.
With equal parts amusement and horror, we watch the Jumbotron monitors that keep focusing on the Freeman siblings at the hottest country music show to hit Connecticut this year. Maybe ever.
“Holy hell. Who threw the bra on stage?” Jared demands.
Ryan, Caleb’s younger brother and apparently a close friend of the family, just braces his hands on his thighs and laughs.
“I think that was Phil. None of the girls are wearing tops that require one,” Caleb mutters.
