14. Brooks
FOURTEEN
Brooks
Watching Clover walk over to the stage area was a test of strength. All I’ve wanted to do the entire day is get closer to her, but I know I can’t. We both know I can’t.
It’s been an incredible afternoon, and running into my friends was a delight, but Clover isn’t my date. I didn’t bring us all out here to get into her pants.
I just thought we needed some fresh air, a distraction.
Okay, I needed a distraction.
Darby rushes by me as I’m lost in my thoughts, and I see him heading straight toward Clover. I smile at first; it still tickles me how much that kid has taken to her, but that’s when I see Rosie’s face.
She’s been crying.
I walk over. Whatever is going on, I should help. Rosie is Darby’s teacher and a lovely woman. If she’s upset, she has reason to be.
“Darby, I just scarfed down a buttload of ice cream, and my stomach is already churning. This is not a good time for me to sing.”
Sing? Oh, shit. Rosie lost Ben? He’s usually so good about showing up.
“Come on, Clover! You’ll be great! And we can give you like water or something.”
Darby is pleading, his hands up like they were before, and then Clover looks up, her stare finding mine. I can see the nerves there, but there’s a tiny flicker of something else—excitement.
“You should do it.” I offer, shrugging to play it off like it’s not a big deal. “It’s just a market. People are coming and going. No pressure.”
Scoffing, Clover glares at me, dropping her head to one side. “No pressure? Seriously? There’s like a couple hundred people in the area who’ll hear me.”
“Please, Clover.” Rosie steps up to her, mimicking my son’s hand gesture. “I would be so damn grateful. If the stage sits empty, I’ll have to refund all these people their money.”
Gesturing out at the small crowd gathered before the stage, Rosie indicates the people who actually bought a ticket for the tables and chairs set up. There aren’t many, but these events don’t make money for the city unless people pay for stuff like this.
Rosie will feel like a failure, too.
“Oh, sure. Guilt trip me into singing.” Clover sighs, hanging her head and pinching the bridge of her nose.
“I heard you sing to Darby.” She snaps her attention to me. “You sounded beautiful. Why not just give it a shot?”
Clover stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. I’m not sure what’s behind those eyes this time, and my pulse thunders in my ears, probably as loud as Clover’s does to her.
“You,” she hesitates, “you really think I sound okay?”
Nodding, I offer the most genuine smile I can. “I do.”
There’s a beat, and then, with another sigh, Clover throws her hands up. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
Immediately, Rosie snatches Clover’s hand and drags her toward the stairs that lead up to the stage. Trailing behind with eyes wide, Clover glances over her shoulder at me, and I just shrug, offering a thumbs up and a slight smile.
It seems so silly to be giving my nanny a thumbs up while she’s thrust into a sudden performance, but it’s all I can think to do, and then Darby is mirroring the gesture, cheering for Clover as well.
“Come on! I want to watch from the front!”
Darby pulls me around the side of the stage and darts for the open area right at the front. One of the organizers eyes me with a little grin, and I pay for two tickets to be in the “seated area.”
Walking over toward my son, my own nerves are on edge, knowing that Clover is going to be singing in just a few minutes. I know she wasn’t prepared for it, and I can imagine her stomach tying itself in knots.
“Brooks!” I look over to my left and see Leo coming through the crowd of people on the other side of the street. “Save me a spot!”
When Leo reaches us, I smile, giving him a quick hug with my one good arm. He smiles back and then shakes his head, swatting me on the shoulder.
“Didn’t expect to see you guys here. Hi, Darby.” Darby looks up and waves at Leo. “Come to see the performance? I love watching Ben.”
“Well, actually?—”
“Clover’s singing!” Darby jumps in. “Ben got like sick or something, so we all convinced Clover to do it. She’ll be so pumped you’re here.”
Leo’s eyes go wide, and he turns to me. “Clover is singing? Here?”
With a sigh, I nod. Darby really does have a way of just laying it all out there. Ah, kids.
“She is. I know she was feeling a bit…nervous.”
“I should say.” Leo turns back to the stage, his expression a mixture of hope and fear. “She stopped a while back, but she’d do it occasionally for fun or something. But since her mom…”
My gut clenches. I know what happened, and now I feel like shit for practically blackmailing Clover into singing. Christ, what did I do?
Heart in my throat, I watch the stage for her to step out. The area is quiet, and my spine is rigid, so tense it hurts. It hits me that I’ve never been invested in someone like I am with Clover.
I like her…too much.
And standing next to her fucking father is a damn good reminder of that. Gods, I’m best friends with the man standing next to me, and just last night, I nearly kissed his daughter.
Worse, I can’t deny that I wouldn’t fall into that trap again if I was set up for it.
Clover is…I don’t know how to describe everything under the surface with her, but it’s expansive, and I can get lost in those depths so damn easily.
Just being near her is enough to get my pulse racing, my fingers twitching as they itch to touch her, and I just can’t. That can’t happen.
“Thank you for being patient, everyone!” Rosie steps out onto the stage, and I snap into focus, forcefully silencing my turbulent thoughts. “We had a slight change of plans. Our usual performer, Ben, is sick with food poisoning, but we’ve got a treat for you! All the way from New York City, the lovely Clover Joy has agreed to lend her voice and make this gorgeous summer day even brighter. Let’s give her a hand!”
Clover steps out, and I can just make out the tremble of her hand as she holds the microphone. She stands in the center of the stage, looking out over the crowd until her eyes meet mine.
I hold her stare, not looking away.
“Thank you. I…well, I hope you enjoy the song. It’s one of my favorites.”
The music swells behind her, the speakers a little scratchy with age.
No one is really paying attention, a hushed mumble flowing through the crowd, but the moment Clover opens her mouth and hits that first note in “I Love You,” everyone goes silent, their eyes pinned to the stage.
I can hardly blink as Clover sings, utterly enraptured by the way she takes the simple song and makes it so heartbreakingly beautiful.
It’s not your typical choice—especially not in a town of farmers and cowboys who probably don’t know who Billie Eilish is for the most part—but not even one person is left unaffected by Clover’s performance.
Each word in the song hits too hard, and I can’t breathe. I don’t know what made her choose the song, and as much as I want to look away, stop thinking about each fucking word, I can’t.
It’s this soft, pleading confession. And telling ourselves a “good lie” is too damn real.
Clover disappears into the song, her every move and breath given to the music. Tearing my eyes away requires more than I have, so I just stare, unable to escape.
As the notes fade from existence, there’s a hush over the crowd. Time stands still, and then, in a rush, everyone claps and cheers for Clover.
Without thinking, I head toward the stage stairs, Darby right behind me. We’re the first to greet Clover as she exits, and my son sprints to her, wrapping his arms around her in a fierce hug.
“That was so good, Clover!” He jumps, looking up at her with his arms still around her. “You were like totally amazing!”
“So,” Clover looks over at me, her smile a little unsteady, “I did okay for a city girl singing to a bunch of country folks?”
I can’t find the words. All I can do is smile, but it stretches my mouth wide, and it’s the most I’ve smiled in…years.
Clover’s eyes well up as I look at her, her expression melting into this look of gratitude and overwhelm. I take one step toward her, putting my hand on Darby’s shoulder.
“Pretty damn good.” I nod. “Even for a city girl.”