Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
ESTELLE
Then
“You’re back.” Darla closed the patio door behind her and joined Estelle on Ray’s deck.
It was the morning after Estelle had returned from her cruise, and she was still finding her land legs after two months on board a moving vessel. Coffee was helping, as was the steady tree line on the horizon.
Darla sat down. “How was it?”
“Great.”
Estelle had another sip of coffee. With Greg gone, the timing of the whole thing hadn’t been ideal, but Estelle had made the most of it.
She’d performed, developed her stage act, written new material, and tried to forget about anything and everything that might be going on back on the mainland.
For the most part, it had worked. “What’s new here? ”
“Oh, not much.” Darla’s lips pursed around a small smile. She looked different. Softer somehow.
Ray stalked through the door dressed in a light-gray linen suit and a white shirt.
“There you are.” His words were directed at Estelle.
“I’m setting up a meeting with Glaston Park about their summer series, and I want you there.
It’ll probably be next week some time, and then I’m going to have you do a jam session that following Thursday with one of the best guitar players in Tennessee.
He’s not performing anymore but a great person to know.
Also, the Riverwide Entertainment gig is this Friday—you should plan on staying after to mingle. ”
“Let the woman settle in,” Darla said with a smile. “Give her a chance to breathe before you bombard her with your plans.” She leaned over the table and touched Estelle’s arm. “I’m sure you must be exhausted.”
She was, but she was also ready. This was what the weeks between New Year’s and departure had been like.
Gigs, meetings, sessions with other musicians she didn’t know, guitar lessons (because good can be better), and everything else between the sun and moon that Ray deemed necessary for her to hone her craft.
Estelle had had no idea what such an effort would require of her—she’d thought singing on stage would do it—but Ray had quickly burst that bubble.
Not that she was complaining. She’d jump through any hoop, go any extra mile, ignore any inner whisper suggesting the sacrifice was too much.
Except there was that letter that had been waiting for her upon arrival last night…
Darla moved her hand, and something caught the sunlight, reflecting it into Estelle’s face. Was that…? She reached for Darla’s wrist, staring in disbelief at the large rock on her finger.
“You’re engaged?” she asked. “That’s…” She cleared her throat. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Yes, we’re very excited.” Darla gazed lovingly up at her betrothed.
That explained Darla’s more serene demeanor. The hunt was over. Estelle had left, and here they were. Though perhaps the odds had always been stacked against her.
Estelle’s gaze flicked from Darla to Ray, finding those intense eyes of his locked on her face as if searching for something. Credibility? Jealousy? Disappointment? She schooled her features and reminded herself that this had always been about the music first.
“I hope you’ll be very happy together,” she said. Then she withdrew her hand from Darla and rinsed down that jagged pill with a mouthful of cooled coffee.
Chin up, eyes forward. This was nothing to be morose about.
She was made of stronger stuff. And it wasn’t like Ray had left her emptyhanded.
In fact, considering how busy she was about to be, the way things were working out was probably the better of the two scenarios anyway.
She didn’t need more complicating factors, and men were always good at supplying those.
“Oh, you should play at the wedding,” Darla said, lighting up further.
“We’ll see,” Ray said, his hesitance making Estelle’s confidence plunge as if the floor had given way. But then he tipped his head with a wink. “She might be playing bigger venues by then. You never know.”
Estelle let out a breath and forced lightness back into her smile, annoyed with herself for being so easily affected by his opinion.
But when you’d never had someone to truly believe in you before—someone to expect success and not be surprised when it came knocking—the threat of losing it was bleak indeed.
“I’ll play wherever they’ll have me,” she said. “You’ve set a date then?”
“July 28.”
“Oh wow. That’s soon.”
Darla reached over her shoulder for Ray’s hand. “We’re not telling anyone, but that’s the only way I’ll fit into my dress. If you know what I mean.”
Estelle blinked at her. They were pregnant too? A glance at Ray told her she’d come to the right conclusion, though next to Darla’s radiance, his expression held a touch of ambivalence she wasn’t used to seeing in him.
“Congratulations again,” she said.
His lips tightened briefly. “Thank you.”
“You’ll be one of my bridesmaids of course,” Darla said. “And come with me shopping for the nursery.”
This openness toward Estelle was another shift in Darla’s personality. They were no longer rivals, Estelle realized. If they ever had been. Darla had won her prize, so now she could afford to let Estelle closer.
“Sure,” Estelle said. “If I’m still here.”
“Wonderful.” Darla stood and placed her hand on Ray’s chest. “Looks like you’re off the hook, darling. Thank goodness for Stella-Jane.” She made for the patio door and swept out of sight with a, “See you tonight,” thrown over her shoulder.
As much as Estelle hated to admit it, engagement and pregnancy suited the other woman. Her friend? She was happy for her. For them. She told Ray as much.
He sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. “Obviously, we’ll need to talk about your living arrangements in light of this.”
He was close enough that she could smell his expensive cologne. Close enough for her stomach to do its instinctive dip. But it was a knee-jerk reaction, nothing more. The rules had changed.
Estelle thought of that letter in her room again. “Yes, I was already going to tell you I can’t stay here. My sister has taken ill, so my niece needs to live with me for a while.”
Ray retreated a few inches. “Now? And how is this the first I hear of a sister?”
Estelle ignored his question. “I’ll need a bigger place. A home base where she has access to schools and whatnot.”
“But you’ll be touring.”
“She’ll be fine. She’s an… independent sort. Didn’t you say you have a small place in Nashville that you barely use? Maybe as a temporary solution?” If there was a way for Estelle to avoid having to watch Ray and Darla’s domestic bliss unfold, she’d find it.
He stared at her a long while, then his lips curved in a smile. “Still a woman with a plan,” he said, nodding. “That could work. Anything else?”
“Yes.” She’d thought about this while on the boat.
A new life was unfurling before her, and she wanted to meet it free of the restrictive contours of the past. “Stella-Jane Milne sings at hoe-downs and seedy bars, but she doesn’t record hits or get her name lit up in neon.
It’s clunky and small-town, so it’s time to change it. ”
Ray frowned. “Change your name?”
“It’s necessary,” Estelle said. “Think about all the other female stars out there.”
Ray nodded, warming to the idea. “Something classy. Something with rhythm.” He grabbed a napkin from the table and pulled a pen from his pocket. “What about… Cindy LaRue?” Another few scribbles. “Georgia Lovitt?”
“Estelle,” Estelle said. “Estelle Lavigne. It still feels like me, like Stella, only more polished.”
“Estelle,” Ray said, and she loved how it rolled off his tongue.
“That’s good. It adds mystique, and I can sell that.
A young, charming, eligible songstress who lives for her music.
I always thought Stella-Jane was a solid name, but you’re right—it’s not alluring, and that’s what we’re going for.
Estelle on the other hand… I’ll be booking her at every company function, upscale restaurant, radio station, and music hall I can find. ”
“Then do it,” Estelle said, holding his gaze. She could be alluring if stardom called for it, and that’s what was now on the horizon.
She could feel it in her bones.