Page 33 of To Believe In You
She shifted toward him. “It’s on to bigger and better things for you?”
Philip scratched his short beard. “I don’t know about bigger, but better? I hope so.”
She’d need more hints to solve the riddle.
At the snack table, John’s dogs moved in to try to slip some food from Isabella. John went over, motioned his dogs off, then rolled up his sleeves to help the young teen.
Meanwhile, Erin used both hands as she laughed her way through a story directed at Gannon and Adeline. The lead singer held his fiancée’s hand with both of his. Their goodbye when the band left for California on Monday would be hard.
Lina’s twinge of envy prompted her to wonder what it might be like for Philip to spend even more time than she did around the happy couples. Other than a rumored relationship with pop star Michaela Vandehey, who had been around a chunk of the summer for a collaboration with Awestruck, Philip had been single since before joining the band. A widower, actually.
She studied his profile in the firelight. “Are the kids going with you to California?”
“They’d miss the start of school, so they’re staying here with Ruthann, their nanny.”
Isabella’s guffaw by the snack table pulled Lina’s attention from the bassist.
Smirking, John retook his seat next to Erin.
Isabella held a s’more so thick her thumb and pointer finger looked to be extended about as far as possible. In the flickering light, the stack seemed to include a graham cracker, a marshmallow, one of the raspberry bars Lina had brought, another marshmallow, and a final graham cracker.
Playfully disapproving, Erin bumped John’s shoulder. The other conversations quieted as the group watched the girl struggle to take her first bite.
“Give it to Gannon,” Tim suggested. “He’s got a big mouth.”
Isabella squished the creation until marshmallow squeezed out the sides and finally managed to take a bite. As she continued to work on the treat, she returned to her seat. “Want me to make you one?”
Lina laughed and declined, then shot a glance at Philip. How could he leave the easy camaraderie of the band—not to mention the money? Why would he? She took a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t overstepping. “What will you do after the album is done?”
“I’m thinking we’ll move to Iowa by my dad, where I grew up.” He kept his face toward the light of the fire, the orange glow highlighting a quiet determination. “I want to finish my degree, live a simpler life.”
That sounded a lot like her own desire for a fresh start. But had moving made things simpler for Lina? Or only added a handsome complication named Matt Visser?
9
Matt used to be the young punk who ruled the world. Now, he was the thirty-something being interviewed by kids for minimum wage jobs. He shifted in the plastic chair in the stark office of the home improvement store. He must have ten years on the manager, but that didn’t make the guy as young as it used to be. Russ was likely in his twenties. He might even hold a college degree.
The service award pins on his name tag caught the light as he studied Matt’s application. In the prior employment section, Matt had listed Visser Landscaping and Key of Hope. He’d left off his longest running job. A nearly empty page looked significantly less ridiculous than if he’d scrawled the word Awestruck in one of those little boxes.
Despite the omission, Russ had recognized him.
“Well, I’m a big fan.” The manager glanced up, bashful and excited like he didn’t know what a blow Matt’s pride had taken when he’d applied. “Couldn’t believe it when they said Matt Visser turned in an app.”
“Just trying to make an honest living.”
Russ nodded and chewed his lip. “Corporate would have my head if I let you use a forklift.”
The kid must’ve seen the video.
Matt stayed still. Seemed like the best way to look like he wouldn’t cause trouble.
Russ swiped his fingers over cheeks that didn’t appear to need a razor very often. “You know anything about windows and doors?”
“When I stood in front of the TV as a kid, my family always said people make better doors than windows.”
The attempt at humor bellyflopped onto the concrete floor of the interview room. The service award pins glinted again.
“It was a joke.” A bad one, because Matt couldn’t compensate for it by spouting off some useful knowledge about the products. Some models were probably better at energy retention or security than others, but which ones? He couldn’t even name three brands. “I know some basics.”
