"Darla doesn’t want to be in the spotlight again," Mach said, as though reading her thoughts.
Yes, that.
She wanted things to work out in a well-ordered fashion that didn’t involve loads of discomfort.
"In my experience, there are a few ways to make this go away." Courtney started counting on her fingers. "You do nothing and wait until the beast calms itself down. That can take a while… unless another big story breaks to take the heat off of you. This will happen, eventually, but you don’t get to control that. And in the meantime, you’re stuck in limbo. Waiting."
"I don’t like that option," Darla announced. She’d already spent the last month in break-up purgatory. The time to move forward had arrived.
"The second option is that you feed the beast, so it’ll go to sleep. Burn all the oil in the lamp as quickly as possible. You put yourself out there, do this show. That goes well. Everyone is content and filled to the brim with America’s New Sweetheart and, you know, this lug." She pointed at Mach with her thumb. "They’ll be sick of you both and ready for the next thing."
Hans seemed to think through what Courtney proposed. Finally, he said, "As the attention mounts, Courtney and I funnel most of it to the band, away from Darla. Moving the spotlight, so to speak." He grinned. "It’ll work. We can do it. Then Darla goes on with her life, and you go on with yours." He paused and it felt like a dramatic pause, for sure. "If that’s what you want."
Courtney made a funny sound in the back of her throat at that announcement, but Hans squelched it with a look. Sheesh, that look was one Darla didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. Also—
"To make your proposal work, I go on television?" Darla asked. "On purpose. With Mach."
"Why do you make that sound like a dentist appointment?" Mach asked. "The last part. ‘With Mach.’"
"I didn’t." Pretty sure that didn’t happen.
"Eh." Courtney waved her hand from side to side. "A little." Then she winked. "But it’s good for Mach to get put in his place every so often."
A loud crash echoed on the far side of the yard. Something fell with a thud and then another someone crashed. A decent kerfuffle was going on over there.
"We’re fine!" someone shouted. "Sorry about the mess."
There was more yelling. A few inventive curses. All female voices.
"Still fine!"
Hans glanced that way, sighed, then looked back to Darla and Mach.
No one seemed concerned at all. That made sense, given the security situation of the neighborhood. Things like that probably happened all the time around here.
"Think on it." Hans slid his sunglasses back on the bridge of his nose. "Let me know."
He turned and headed to the opposite side of the house from the commotion.
"I usually think Hans is the one that never gets flustered." Courtney pulled her toes from the water to stand on the edge. "But then Babushka shows up."
Who was Babushka? Also—
"That was flustered?" Darla asked.
Mach groaned.
"Shit. That’s today," he muttered.
He ran a hand down his face, leaving droplets to drip from the edge of his lips.
Don’t look at the droplets, Darla. Don’t look. Don’t look.
She totally looked.
"What’s today?" Darla barely got the second word out before an entire soccer team’s worth of elderly women sashayed toward the pool. One of them pushed another in a wheelchair. Another moved slower in her walker.
"It’s water aerobics day." Mach glanced at her, and he’d gone a little pale.
