“You won’t play in Bourbon Canyon?” Bethany sounded distraught.
I shook my head and the heartburn flared. “No, sorry. It’s the flip side to getting more popular. I have to play in places that can fit more people. It’s a good problem to have.” My voice pitched up. A good problem. An excellent one I’d been working toward for fifteen years. “And I’ll get to travel to some other countries.”
Their eyes got big again.
“Whoa,” Bethany said. “You’re going across the ocean?”
I nodded. I’d fly with my band, try to skip out on the parties, and then go to my hotel room or the bus. “They call it a world tour, but I don’t really see much of the world.”
“Where will you go?”
“London. Sydney, Australia. I’m sure I’ll play in Toronto, Canada.”
Hannah shot her hand in the air as if this was a classroom. “Dad said he’s been to Canada!”
“Dad says he’s traveled a lot.” Bethany’s smile fell. “He doesn’t like to talk about it though.”
He never had.
“Dad was the same age as me when he moved to New York.” Hannah beamed.
“He hated New York,” Bethany said adamantly. “He said he was a little older than me when he moved home.”
“I remember when I first saw him.” I smiled at thenostalgia. He’d walked into class, his gaze downcast and his shoulders hunched. The entire class had been interested in him, but I’d pushed to the front of the crowd at lunch and plopped next to him, my sole purpose to make him smile. My incessant questions about his favorite song and singer and what he listened to the most had finally done it.
The girls wiggled, their expressions intent.
Oh. They wanted me to keep talking. “He came in and was introduced. Our teacher wanted us to welcome him, and then told us he’d lived in New York City and Los Angeles, which caused a flurry of discussion.” Everyone was asking where he had been, where he’d lived and he’d shut down. It was why he’d finally opened up with me. I leaned forward like we were all in on a secret. “He was shy.”
Bethany chortled. “Daddy’s not shy.”
“He was very quiet in those days.” He still was.
They bobbed their heads.
An engine sounded outside. The girls shot off the couch and raced to the back door. I was a few seconds behind them. When I pushed out, Bethany was kneeling on one side of Goldie and Hannah was on the other side. Both had their arms around her neck and their faces buried in her fur. She panted with her tongue lolling out.
Rhys had a hand propped on the side of his pickup. His disgruntled gaze softened when he looked at me. “The good news is that the red wasn’t from blood. The vet’s best guess was some sort of construction paper, and God knows we have enough of that flowing through the house.”
Bethany’s head popped up. “We just cleaned out our backpacks.”
He nodded. “My guess is something blew out of the garbage. But the paper wasn’t the major culprit. The bad news is... I paid a helluva emergency vet bill because the cats need a new blanket.”
“Goldie ate their blanket?” Hannah was aghast.
“Quite a bit of it, judging by what she puked on the pickup floor. No wonder her stomach hurt.” He caught my gaze. “Thanks for staying.”
“No problem.” I was done here, but my feet wouldn’t move.
I got my first good look at the kitchen. I had dived right into lessons to keep the girls’ minds off Goldie and had missed the plates of cookies. The basket he’d used to bring me muffins some mornings was by the napkins, filled with a fresh batch. Next to it was a pan of some sort of bars.
He was going to deal with our separation by baking. I’d write songs and make lots of money. Yet neither of us would come out ahead. “I should get going.”
His lips turned down, and he worked his jaw like he was going to say something. This would be goodbye for him and me.
“Wait!” Bethany waved her hand. “Can we see you again? Before you leave?”
Sorrow dimmed the pleasant two hours I’d spent with them. “You’ll see me at the fundraiser.”
