33. Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
Rose
I was deep in blissful sleep when my phone rang. It was eleven a.m., which was late enough that I should have been up, but early enough that I was still exhausted from the night before.
“Hello?” I answered, my mind resistant to the idea of being awake.
“Rose!” Mom’s voice was loud. “I need your help.”
“Mom?” I asked. “What’s happening?”
“I need you to tell your father that I’m fine and don’t need him here.”
“What?”
“Let me have the phone,” Dad’s voice said. “Sorry about this, Rosie.”
“Are you visiting Mom?”
“Yeah, I’m in Canada.”
I blinked. Dad didn’t go to that corner of Canada at all . He had avoided it ever since he left. “Why are you there?”
“I was—?”
“I’m tired of being babysat,” Mom snapped. “Rose, please tell your father that I’m fine and I don’t need help.”
That was even more confusing. Dad didn’t babysit. At all.
“ Are you okay?” I asked.
Barry sat up, his sleep disturbed. He gave me a questioning look.
My parents, I mouthed to him.
“Of course I’m fine! Well, as much as I can be, considering you’re letting people know about your secret. I saw this man at the store and he looked at me like he knew who my daughter was.”
Even though I knew there was no way Barry had told, I checked Google anyway. “No one knows. All I see is an article about how I’m a Hollywood sellout.”
Barry’s hand covered my phone and I pulled it away to close the internet tab.
“People know, Rose. I knew this would happen when you finally broke.”
“Linda,” Dad said, his voice tight. “She’s being responsible. The only people who know aren’t going to tell anyone.”
“Why are you with Mom?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Rosie. You have a lot going on.”
“Telling me not to worry about something isn’t going to make me not worry. You never go see Mom.”
“You’re right. I don’t. And look at what’s happening.”
“I’m fine !” Mom shouted in the background again.
“I’ve got things here,” he said. “You focus on work.”
“But—?”
“Rosie, I’m your father. Let me handle something for you. I love you and I’ll talk to you later.”
He hung up without another word.
My jaw was on the floor. Since when did Dad even have an authoritative tone, much less use it?
“What happened?” Barry asked.
“My dad’s being responsible,” I said slowly. “Which is not what he does. He travels the country and leaves his kid behind.”
“Is that what he did to you?”
“Yes,” I said. “I mean, we’re fine now. Mom always said he was never meant to be a dad, but this doesn’t make sense. It’s unlike him.”
“Maybe he grew up.” Barry shrugged. “What did your mom say?”
“She’s panicking as usual. She thinks you’re going to tell everyone who I am.”
“Not happening.”
“I know, but she can be unreasonable when she’s like this.”
“Maybe it’s good that you’re not dealing with it.”
“Yeah,” I said. “It is. It’s just unlike Dad to do anything about these moods. Usually, it falls to me.”
“Take the help,” Barry replied. “You don’t need to take on anything else right now.”
I looked at my hands. I felt like I should be doing more for Mom. Dad didn’t like being there with her, and if I stepped in, maybe I could shorten the time he was stuck.
But then Barry’s hands covered mine.
“Rose, you don’t need to give everything to make others happy.”
“I don’t know how to stop.”
“You can start by letting your dad handle this for now and focusing on the tour.”
“What if he messes up or it gets worse?”
“That hasn’t happened yet,” he said. “And we can’t live our lives thinking about what isn’t happening.”
He was right. I knew he was. It wasn’t even like I wanted to worry about everyone else. I just did.
Taking a shaky breath, I nodded. I wanted to be better.
“Okay, I’ll focus on the tour for now.”
“Good, the guys said we needed to be there at one, and judging by how awful LA traffic is, we probably should get ready.”
Barry
“You did amazing today,” I told Lila, but I knew words weren’t enough to describe how she moved onstage. We weren’t even on the real one where she’d be performing, but she owned the small practice theater like she was made to be here. Her strong voice was undisturbed by however she moved and she had energy for days.
“I was off in a few ways,” she said, “but it wasn’t bad.”
“Off? You were perfect.”
“There were a few notes that I messed up.”
“You’re way too hard on yourself.”
“But it makes me better.” She gave me a bright smile. “That’s how I keep doing this.”
“Lila,” Justice said as she walked up. “Have I told you how great it is that you found a stand-in? Thank you for being here, Barry.”
I liked Justice. She’d taken my temporary help with a smile and rolled with it.
“You’re welcome,” I replied.
“And I bet you have a good voice. I can just tell.”
“He does,” Lila said, nodding.
“So good that maybe he could perform ‘On This Night’?”
I blinked. I thought I’d never perform it again. That had been a one-time thing, and I wasn’t even named.
“That song isn’t on the tour for a reason,” Lila said.
“People will love to hear it.”
“I can’t perform it by myself.”
Justice gestured to me.
“But I’m just here for a short time.”
“Maybe you can make an appearance. Without the hat, you could be a real presence onstage.”
I glanced at Lila, whose eyes were wide. I knew why it couldn’t happen but hoped it somehow could. I loved the stage at Movers and Shakers and knew I would love this one too.
But Barry Murray would never make it up there.
“Think about it,” Justice said. “I have a meeting with Malia for another first round of auditions for the guitarist. I’m sure you’ll be in them tomorrow, Lila.”
“I’ll be there,” she replied. She smiled at Justice, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“She’s right,” Lila said. “The setlist feels empty without that song. It’s the last song on the album for a reason. It’s supposed to wrap everything up.”
“I’m sure if you did it, you’d nail it.”
“I don’t think I could sing it by myself. I’ve tried and it’s not the same without you there.”
“I doubt that.”
“Then let’s play it,” she said. “And you’ll see how perfect it is as it was on the album.”
She moved into position and gave me an extra mic. I played what I remembered. Lila started us off, singing her part in a high-pitched tone. I came in on the second verse, and then we sang together.
And yeah, she was right. When performed live, it was meant to be a duet.
I’d never hated the bar before, but this was as close as it would come. My first dream had been to be a rock star. My second was the bar.
But I wouldn’t leave what I’d created the moment something better came along. I refused to.
It still hurt to make that choice, though.
We sang the last note together and a slow clap rang out from the front of the room.
“I see why you’re hesitant to perform that by yourself,” Malia said, walking forward. “It really is better when both of you sing it.”
“I thought you were with Justice,” Lila said.
“I swung in for a second to chat, but you were busy.”
“It was just practice,” I replied.
“That’s still important. You’re the singer on the original, right?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not the tour expert, but you would be so perfect onstage.”
“No,” Lila rushed to say. “I’d rather keep it out of the tour.”
Her tone was sharp and I wondered if Malia would snap back. But she didn’t.
“Okay, I won’t push it. I respect your decision.”
“Thank you,” Lila said, some tension leaving her shoulders.
“I do need to head out. Our chat can wait.” She made a move to leave but paused and looked in between us. “You two are good together.”
“We aren’t together .”
Malia’s eyebrows raised. “Could’ve fooled me. Let’s meet tomorrow. We need to talk.”