Michael nodded in understanding. Lisa and Kelly pressed their lips together and ignored him.
Whatever. He needed to find Sheila.
Chapter Nineteen
Sheila
“Shake out of it.”
Sheila’s teeth rattled as Ashley shook her.
“Pull yourself together, woman.”
Sheila shook herself free of the claws and batted Ashley away from her. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re lost in la-la land, and we’re live in five minutes.”
“Five min—” Sheila jumped to her feet. The semifinals were due to start, and she wasn’t anywhere near the field or the broadcasting booth. She definitely hadn’t done her check-in with each department. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I have been telling you.” Her best friend’s face was red as a jersey, and a section of her hair had slipped out of its top knot.
“Begin check-in, starting with—” Sheila drew a blank.
“First Aid,” Ashley hissed.
“First Aid.”
The check-ins started. Sheila scrambled to gather a clipboard and her check-off sheet. Today’s event would be much shorter than the week before—only four hours—but there were just as many items to check off her to-do list as there had been the week before. No matter how stressed out she got, she couldn’t run to Brock for a knee-melting kiss or even a hug. She was on her own, and there was no greater feeling of loneliness than knowing exactly what she was missing out on.
“Sorry, Ash. I’m on it. I promise.”
“I know.” Ashley plucked at her bottom lip, a sure sign something was on her mind.
“What?”
“Call him. Maybe you can meet up with him later?”
Sheila shook her head so hard her hair whipped her in the eye. She carefully pressed her palm over the sting. “I don’t have time for this—or him.”Thisbeing the heartache that had haunted her since she’d stepped out of the grocery store and reality sank in. She’d handed Brock over to Kelly.
She was an idiot.
Really. He was worth more than not going to med school. She should have fought for him. She should have stood there in aisle three and told Kelly to back the heck off. She should have been less insecure about their relationship and more confident in his kisses.
But there was this seed of doubt. All her life, Sheila had worked to maintain the status quo—to be the peacemaker, the levelheaded sister, the one who didn’t give her parents high blood pressure. She remembered, in HD Surround Sound, the time Kelly was seven and Sheila was four and Kelly pitched a fit in the grocery store. Not just a fit, but the kind of fit that had Mom in tears. Sheila had seen a great sorrow in her mother’s face that day and vowed never to be a burden to her parents like Kelly was to them.
But that was a child’s perspective on the situation. Perhaps she hadn’t quite grown out of that belief yet. When ambushed by Kelly and Brock in the store, she’d defaulted to what she’d known before. She’d backed away in order to save everyone’s feelings.
And now she was miserable. Miserable and late!
She ran from her office, grateful she’d thought ahead to wear low-heeled shoes. A smile was hard to find and even harder to swipe across her face, but she managed to get it there before she stepped into the sunlight. The check-ins were complete, and it was time to start. She gave the go-ahead to the booth, and the recorded organ music, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game,”announced the beginning of the program. Time to tune out her heart and get to work.
The first hour of the audition passed quickly. Sheila had only intended to be in the crowds for a few minutes, but she’d ended up staying in the stands. The atmosphere was electric.
She silently patted herself on the back for turning the microphone over to Juan for the day. They had fewer competitors today than they’d had for the open section of the competition, and she’d worried that the crowd would get bored watching thirty pretty decent tryouts. Juan was anything but boring. In fact, he was charming the stadium with every broad grin and exclamation of astonishment that came out of his mouth. He was truly impressed with each audition and gave the competitors the full treatment. With him, it didn’t come off as a job—he liked being there. Yep, that was one decision she’d take credit for all week long.
Walking away from Brock was a totally different story. She’d been sick to her stomach ever since and had hardly eaten a thing.
Her phone beeped, and she hit the walkie-talkie button. “This is Sheila. Go ahead.”
