11. Your turn
CHAPTER 11
Your turn
I like Mending Hearts’ last album. I like it a lot, more than I’ll ever admit to any living soul. Maybe that’s why I’m seated on the floor with Jason, trying to duet with him. One, it will make Amelia happy because it means I’m getting along with her man. Two, it’s an excuse to sing one of their songs without pressure. Three, I’m out of practice. Four, I miss singing.
“Fine,” I say. Keeping up the fa?ade is easy. Amelia almost choked on her cake when Jason suggested we joined the #mendinghearts challenge on TikTok. They released the chorus to their new song, and the internet has gone mad. “I’ll do it if Amelia sings. Otherwise, it’s a no.”
I’m barely done talking when Amelia grabs the remote from the table. The candles on Mace’s birthday cake flicker. They turned his birthday into a mini concert, and I love it. Amelia holds the black remote to her lips, her other hand pointed at Jason. “DJ, hit the music.”
Jason bellows with laughter. I fall back, my head hitting the couch I’m propped against as I struggle to keep Mace up on my lap. He refused to sit still, so I was left with no option but to sit on the floor. Mace stares up at me with a hint of confusion, and a peal of laughter escapes him. Tears stand in my eyes from laughing too much. Laughter truly is the medicine for my soul because my heart swells with warmth, and I hug my son. He pinches my cheeks.
“God, Mace is so cute,” Amelia says when she regains her voice. Jason and I agree with a nod. She straightens up, the remote still in her grip. “All right, let’s do this. DJ? The music.”
The chorus starts softly. Mace sways, and the mini guitar Jason gifted him bounces to the rug. I grab it and tuck it between his legs. Amelia starts. She’s not singing the challenge song. It’s another song. From the music filtering out of the Bluetooth speaker, I can identify the voices.
Taking control of Mace’s wrists, I join his hands together, my head bobbing to the song. She sings offbeat too many times. But the joy on her face, big smile, and attitude make up for the poor singing. Jason whistles when she stops, his phone raised. I hope he took a video of her.
Amelia is beet red as she hobbles towards him for a kiss on the cheek. He raises his hand in a high five, and she slaps it. Mace looks over his shoulder. I lift my hand, and he kisses the heel of my palm. Laughter echoes behind me, but I don’t look away from my son’s bright blues.
“Okay, Cathie,” Jason says. “Your turn.”
My heart skips. I’m never one to shy away from singing, but it has been a while.
“What if you go first?” I ask. Mace stretches out his arms to Jason, and I pull him to his feet. He bites my cheek, his arms slithering around my neck. The music stops. Amelia encourages me with a smile, but my limbs have turned to jelly. “I’ll go after. You can choose the song.”
“Fine.”
Jason dusts the knees of his jeans and accepts the remote from Amelia. He gives her a thumbs up, and she hits the music. Tears fill my eyes as the lyrics pour out of his lips. His gaze only leaves Amelia a few times, painfully reminding me of the man I lost. Mace slides down to the floor but stays on his knees, hands planted on my thighs as he wiggles his butt to the song.
I’m up on my feet in the twinkle of an eye. Amelia follows suit. She snatches Mace from my grasp, and we all move to the song. The volume increases. We don’t quit dancing even when Jason stops singing. Three of us form something close to a circle. One person dances in the middle while the other two cheer them on. We keep going until all three of us have danced.
As the next song slows to an end, Amelia breaks away to sit on the couch. She’s pale.
She waves me off when I try to approach them. “I’m fine. Go. Don’t stop on my account.” Mace bobs on her lap but doesn’t join us. “Me and Mace are having fun here. Right, Macey?”
Since it’s my turn to sing, I grab the remote. Jason picks up his phone. “What song?”
“Um, hand in my pocket?” I whisper.
“I think I should have that,” he replies.
The nerves get the best of me. My palms sweat, so do my armpits. I transfer the remote to my other hand. It’s just a song. I’ve covered so many songs. “Alanis is the artist. A. L. A. N. I. S.”
“Morissette?” Jason supplies.
“Yeah.”
Amelia winks. She doesn’t know it’s our song. I offer Mace a small slice of cake. There are two. Jason brought one. We opened the birthday with one. We will consume the second later.
My mouth opens, but I make no sound. The second time, I clear my throat, but the result is the same. From my periphery, Jason glances worriedly at Amelia, and she motions for him to calm down. On the third try, my voice comes out squeaky. I let out a hoarse laugh. This was a terrible idea. Amelia gives me two thumbs up. Jason does the same, but I bet he did it for her sake. My voice grows better as the song progresses. My eyes shut, and the lyrics take control.
Memories roll over me in fast-forward until they eventually slow down. Mr Dissick’s laugh rings in my ear. My cheeks burn as I’m reminded of his finger across my skin. My lips tingle. He’s not here, but his memories surround me. The ache in my chest grows. On the last verse, my voice drops, and my eyes open. Mace is staring at me like he can sense my sadness.
Jason’s eyes are wide open. My cheeks heat. I probably sounded horrible. I haven’t sung in a long time. It’s a surprise my voice didn’t damage their ears. Feeling conscious, I let my hair frame my face. The remote drops to the floor. I grab and slide it to the table. The quiet is like a thousand needles pricking my earlobes. I kneel before Amelia and open my arms for Mace.
Smiling at Mace as he sinks onto my lap, I ask, “Was it that bad?” Amelia sighs, and Jason shuts his mouth. “It was bad, right? It has been a while, so my voice is quite rusty. Ignore it.”
“Ignore?” Jason shrieks. His hand goes over his chest, and he shakes his head. Heat crawls up my neck. “Bad? If this is you on a bad day, then I need to hear you on your good days.”
Mace slides his thumb into his mouth. It’s near impossible to get him to stop sucking it. In the end, I leave him be, for now. Jason’s excitement spills over me. My lips crack in the faintest of smiles. I still got the music. Maybe I’m no longer a superstar, but my voice is still okay.
“What the freak, Cathie?” Jason says. We can’t curse around Mace, so we make up other words. He stares at me and smiles. I think I’m blushing. “Why were you hiding that voice?”
“Finally. Someone agrees with me,” Amelia says. I snort. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say. Cathie is a great singer. She used to be in our school’s choir. No one does it like her.”
Amelia dives into praises for my singing. Jason beams. He’s so excited you would think I won a musical award. He and Calum will get along fine. They already have a few things in common. I look up when I notice Amelia on her feet. She points behind her, and Jason nods.
What are they planning? Mace is asleep. I place him in his rocking chair and blow out the candles on the second cake. Footsteps fade behind me. Amelia is nowhere to be found.
“Where did Amelia go?” I ask Jason.
He nods towards her door. “She went to get some stuff. We haven’t done the challenge.”
“I don’t even have TikTok,” I mutter.
Jason sinks to the armrest of my couch. Taking my phone, he says, “Unlock it.” Once that’s done, he downloads the TikTok app. There’s not much I can do beyond watching and rocking my foot. “Why wouldn’t you want anyone to hear you sing? Your voice is beautiful, Cathie.”
Amelia clears her throat to announce her presence. Her arms are hidden behind her, and that rouses my suspicions. Before I ask any question, her arms shoot out, and she yells, “Tada.”
Oh God.
She drops the ring light and headset on the coffee table. I glare at Jason, but he looks the other way. Next thing I know, they will ship me to New York to confront Mr Dissick. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea until I remember that girl kissing him. Her pictures haven’t graced his social media in a few months. They might have made their relationship private.
Anyway, that’s his business. I don’t care. I squint when the ring light flickers to life. Amelia returns my frown with a kiss. Jason slumps down to the couch and nudges me with his knee.
They set me up.
“We need a name and username,” he says.
I snatch my phone from him and input the first two names that pop up in my mind. Jason’s brow rises. He has questions, and I don’t care to answer them. I match his frown with one of mine. He’s not the only stubborn person in the room. For my profile picture, I use something random. A picture of Jason’s guitar. He has been teaching me how to play. We spend the next few minutes rehearsing the chorus. For a sound of twenty seconds, we use more than an hour to get it right. Amelia collapses to the couch when I finish recording, her mouth falling open.
“You wanted this,” I tell her.
While Amelia didn’t sing, she was involved behind the scenes. She balances her head on the armrest and points her finger at me. “I don’t regret it. Now, please post the freaking video.”
I look to Jason for help, but he shrugs. Frowning, I hit the upload button with a promise to myself to forget about the video. But on one of his visits, when we are alone, he brings it up.
“Have you checked your video?”
“What video?” I reply.
Jason pats his guitar, then gives it to me to repeat the strokes he played earlier. My mind is foggy as my fingers touch a string. He drops to the floor, legs pushing up and arms folded on his knees.
“The TikTok video,” he says. I’m still not over the fact my face is out there for anyone to see. I deactivated all my social media. “Are you sure you don’t need to create an Instagram—”
“No,” I cut in. I don’t care for another social media account.
Amelia walks in with a small smile, kisses Jason’s cheek, and drops onto an empty couch. I don’t want to fill my head with negatives, but she doesn’t seem okay to me. She hasn’t been eating as much. My fingertips brush the chord, and a soft sound travels through the air.
“You’re getting it,” Jason murmurs when I play a new string. He nods again. I cast a glance at Amelia to know if he’s right. He laughs. Amelia won’t lie. “I’m serious, Cathie. You’re doing great.” Looking at his non-girlfriend, he says, “Tell her, Amelia. She’s a pro at this.”
Amelia snorts. The back of her hand goes over her mouth, and we erupt in laughter.
“To be fair, you’ve not had much time to practise,” Amelia says to comfort me.
She stands, and Jason jumps to his feet. He’s like a fly, always going wherever she goes, but yeah, they are not dating. She sits on the floor, and he sits on her left. They need to confess their feelings to each other already. Another yawn escapes me, and my eyelids grow heavier.
We have been working with the designers to add a new feature to GC and its sister app. A gift feature for users to reward their favourite posters and commenters. While we are not doing the coding and other designs, dealing with investors and attending meetings is tough. I hate it.
“It will come to me,” I say. “Eventually.”
I place the guitar on the couch and slide down beside her. Amelia leans into Jason, and my heart flutters. It must be nice. Feeling left out, I slide my hand into hers and lace our fingers.
“Hey. What are you looking at?” Jason asks her. She shows him her phone, and he pulls her head down so it rests on his shoulder. More heart flutters and a sharp sting. I’ll never have this. She winces, and his eyes drop to her face. I collect her phone from him. “You good?”
“Yeah,” she whispers.
He’s not convinced, neither am I. So when he hoists her on his lap and wraps his arms around her like I would do with Mace, I’m grateful. The week has been challenging. She’s barely getting enough sleep and food. We both have been working hard on the new update. Thankfully, Mace doesn’t cry as much anymore, so it’s easier to watch him.
“Do you need anything?” I ask.
Amelia shakes her head. Jason plants a kiss on her temple, and she throws him a shy glance. Feeling like the intruder, I look away. The silence rolls on. Mace is asleep. The baby monitor shows he’s enjoying his nap. I should practise with the guitar, but I don’t want to move.
A buzz at my feet draws my attention to Amelia’s phone. Dozens of notifications stare back at me, but the TikTok pop-up is the main reason I unlock the device. We have people to manage our social medias, but she also has access to all the accounts. I open the app on her phone. My new profile is on her screen. I frown at the number of likes from the video.
“You should change your bio,” Jason says.
It will stay as it is.
There are about one hundred comments on the video. One of them is from a verified account. I didn’t get notified because I disabled the notifications on the app once it was downloaded. I return Amelia’s phone and retrieve mine to check the app. Ignoring the notifications on my phone, I open my profile. A gasp locks in my throat. I already have two thousand followers.
A thrill rushes through me. I smile at my screen. I should change my bio. But I don’t tap on the Edit Profile button. Professional singing is behind me. This is all for fun, a phase. My head rounds towards the couple beside me. Amelia is asleep now while Jason watches her. It’s not in the least bit creepy, mainly endearing. A tinge of jealousy flashes through me.
“She’s so pretty, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he whispers so as not to wake her. I reach over, and my fingers brush her jaw. She doesn’t twitch. She must be exhausted. How did I not notice? He clears his throat. “Cathie?”
My eyes meet Jason’s blues. Thank God he’s not blonde. It would have been harder.
“Yes?”
“I don’t think Amelia is okay,” he says.
My gaze drops to my best friend in the entire universe. I admit she looks older. I do, too. I was forced into the real world faster than I wanted. It was supposed to be a year of me exploring myself. My fingers slip through Amelia’s. I wrap my arms around my knees and rock gently.
“Did she say anything?” I ask.
Jason offers me a tight smile. “No, not to me. I don’t think she wants to talk about it.”
Amelia stirs. She murmurs Mace’s name in her sleep. Mama Mace’s best friend.
“Will you carry her to my room?” I ask him.
“Lead the way.”
At the entrance of my room, a torrent of images invades my mind. I shake my head and open the door. Amelia won’t leave me. Jason enters. He has never had a reason to be here. Pushing things into place, I create space on the bed. He drops her on the centre like an angel, and her brown eyes open. Sleep clouds her gaze, and she squints at him until recognition sets in.
“Jason? Why are you in Cathie’s room? She’s going to freak out. Go, go, go, ” she whispers. I cough, and a fake grin takes over her lips. “Jason is in your room. Did-did you let him in?”
It’s the no-boys rule. No boys in the house, especially in my room. But this is our house, and Jason likes Amelia. I’ll break all my rules for her. I nod, and she squeezes my hand.
“We haven’t had a girls’ night in like forever…”
Amelia laughs, but it dies off when her gaze returns to Jason. He stands. “I’ll see myself out,” he says, his eyes centred on only Amelia. “Take care of you, okay? And you too, Cathie.”
“I will, Jason. I will take care of her.”
With all my heart. He laughs, and I make a crisscross sign over my heart. We don’t speak until the door closes. I crawl into bed with Amelia and pull the comforter over our waists. She has been taking so much care of us, and I never stopped to wonder if she was fine.
“Are you really, really okay?” I ask.
Tears rush to her eyes. The sight makes me tear up. I want us to be okay forever.
The pad of her thumb brushes my cheeks. “Don’t cry, Cathie.”
“But you’re not okay,” I reply. I feel it.
“You don’t know that for sure, Mama Mace,” she tells me. I pucker my lips, and she flicks a finger over my nose. “I’ll be going home next month so I can find out what’s wrong, okay?”
Next month is October. Mr Dissick’s next show is in November.
I take her hand. “But this is also your home.”
Amelia tucks her hands under her head, and I mirror the action on the second pillow. “It is.”
“Do you want me to tag along?” I ask.
Her eyes widen only slightly. “Yeah. But I think you should spend some time with your dad. You can invite him over and hang out. Ashley will be home too, so I think I will be all right.”
“Do you promise that you’ll tell me what’s wrong?” I ask in a whisper. The unspoken words thicken the air. I touch her arm, and she covers my palm. “Amelia Greene.”
“Not today, okay?” she says. “Soon.”
A phone rings. Mine. I rush to get it before it wakes Mace up, but I’m a little too late. His cry cuts through the air with a harshness that makes me insert my fingers into my ears. I stumble to the table to grab my phone before heading over to carry him from his crib. Rose is calling.
Giving the phone to Amelia, I rub circles on Mace’s lower back so he can return to sleep. He hiccups, but his cries don’t subside. Amelia sits up with my phone plugged to her ear. I don’t want her to get out of bed, but I need to attend to Mace. Amelia exits the room and returns a minute later with her phone. Something Rose says makes her laugh. In seconds, a song starts.
Mace’s favourite bedtime song.
It works like magic. His eyelids droop, and he falls asleep to the sound of his father’s singing. Once he’s tucked in, I join Amelia on the bed. She switches it to video call, and Rose’s happy face appears on the screen. We share a pillow. When Taylor finally joins the call, I wave.
“Amelia has a boyfriend,” I whisper.
The accused slaps the back of my head. For someone who claims not to be okay, she has got a good aim. Taylor and Rose talk over each other. It’s not abnormal. Amelia clears her throat to call their attention. Taylor wiggles her brows. She dyed them blonde to match her hair.
Amelia laughs. “I don’t have a boyfriend. We’re just friends.”
Friends don’t look at each other like that man does. She’s different around him, relaxed and happy.
“She’s lying,” I chip in.
Amelia readies her hand to tickle me, but I edge back. Her foot falls over mine in a lame attempt at a kick, and my laughter bubbles out of me. She rests the phone on the headboard.
“But seriously,” Amelia mutters. “We are not dating. We are just friends. I’m serious.”
Her words have me forgetting about our other friends, and my knees dig into the bed as I switch to a kneeling position. I don’t get it. She likes Jason. Jason likes her. He visits often.
“Is it because of me?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “Something else.”
“What?” Rose piques.
I’m grateful Rose is forward because I’m not sure how to ask that question. She will tell me, I know. But when? When it’s too late to do anything about it? I also want to be there for her. I weave my hand into hers and squeeze. She doesn’t look down but smiles into the camera.
“It’s just some stuff I have to take care of. I can’t date right now,” Amelia answers. They don’t ask further questions. “We should be more worried about Cathie. She hates men—”
“Are you going to tell Papa Mace about his son?” Taylor interjects. I shrug. “You won’t?”
“No. Never. Why should I?” He asked me to move on. A gasp escapes three of them, and I force myself to add, “Not yet, okay? And none of you girls are allowed to tell him anything.” Amelia’s lips press into a thin smile. I love her, but it’s not her decision. My finger pokes her temple. “Even you, Amelia Greene, or I swear, I’ll never talk to you again. You can’t say it.”
“Fine,” Amelia grumbles.
The girls sigh. I must have worn them down with my mood.
“What if Mace starts to ask about his dad?” Rose asks.
“Then I’ll tell him,” I whisper into the pillow. Looking up, my eyes settle on each of them for a second. They don’t like my reply. “But until then, we won’t talk about Calum Dissick, agree?”