Chapter 9
Taylor shouts her sister's name through the whole house, but she doesn't hear her answer until she passes by the backyard. She finds her sitting in a wicker chair, her ever-present laptop on her lap. Tiffany is barefoot, legs crossed beneath the laptop and her hair twisted up in a messy bun.
"Am I interrupting something?" Taylor asks, lifting an eyebrow, standing by the door.
Tiffany tilts her head and smiles at her, lowering the laptop lid.
"Not at all. I'm just going over a few things for Monday that I should've finished yesterday, but come here, I'd rather talk to you—and you look like you need it."
Taylor comes closer and drops down in the grass next to her sister's chair, stretching out her legs and bracing her hands a bit behind her. For a moment she stares up at the sky while Tiffany twines her fingers in her ponytail.
"Am I that obvious?" Taylor asks.
"You always have been," Tiffany replies, letting her wild ponytail fall down her back. "Did something happen I should be worried about?"
"No, it's just been a bit of a shitty day," Taylor says.
"Then tell me so it's not quite so shitty. How did lunch go with the woman from the restaurant?"
"Mmm." Taylor plucks a bit of grass and shreds it between her fingers while she thinks.
"Come on, what? What's going on, Taylor?" her sister asks, impatience creeping in. "Did something happen with her, or is it something else?"
"It's a mix of everything, but it's not bad—or maybe it is... Turns out she's a music talent scout..."
"She's a what?"
Taylor gives her a quick rundown of exactly who Abigail is and what she's capable of.
"She's here for me. She heard me sing last night and she wants to represent me."
The silence that settles between them is very different from the one she'd had earlier with their brother. Tiffany doesn't laugh, or show any disbelief; she just watches her closely, waiting for her to go on.
"Well? So what?" Tiffany asks when her sister falls quiet.
"So what?"
"Yeah, Taylor. What are you going to do? Are you going to say yes?"
The question is so simple it throws Taylor. She expected surprise, even concern or the kind of skepticism her brother showed, but Tiffany is very calm.
"It's not that simple," Taylor says.
"Why not?"
"She wants an answer tomorrow before she leaves," Taylor says.
"Okay," her older sister nods. "What else?"
Taylor looks at her, more and more unsettled.
"Don't you think it's all a bit rushed?" the singer asks, hesitant.
—Does it feel rushed to you?
"I don't know, Tiff, you're making me nervous with all the questions. Ethan thinks it's a bad idea."
Something shifts in her sister's expression.
"Don't tell me. What exactly is Ethan saying?" the eldest of the siblings asks with a frown.
"That people like Abigail promise a lot until they get everything they want out of you. That I shouldn't decide so fast. He's worried about what will happen to us if I say yes..."
Tiffany lets out a sigh so long that Taylor stops talking, thrown, staring at her sister wide-eyed.
"Maybe what's going on with Ethan is he doesn't want you to shine without him," Tiffany says suddenly.
Taylor jerks upright.
"What do you mean by that?"
"Exactly what I said, Taylor." Her sister pinches the bridge of her nose, feeling guilty for being in the middle—and also for not stepping in sooner. "Have you never thought that maybe our brother doesn't want you to follow your own path without him?"
"Why would he? He's supported me from the beginning," Taylor shoots back, defensive.
"Has he supported you, or has he made sure he's always there when you stand out?"
Taylor opens her mouth to protest, but something in her sister's stern look stops her.
"What are you talking about, Tiffany?"
Tiffany sighs and rests her elbows on her knees to lean closer to her little sister.
"I love you so much, Taylor—and Ethan too—but I'm not blind. I've been watching how your dynamic works for a long time."
"What dynamic?"
"Every time someone praises your voice or your talent, Ethan finds a way to remind them that he plays with you too, hinting that you need him.
Every time you write a new song, he picks at some flaw—even if there isn't one—just to force you to make a change he can later point to as his contribution.
" Taylor starts to feel anxious. "Every time an opportunity comes up for you to sing solo, he finds a way to include himself. "
Taylor feels like she's just been punched in the gut.
"That's not true..."
"Isn't it?" Tiffany gives her a bitter smile. "What happened when that guy from the local paper wanted to do a story on you a few months ago?"
Taylor frowns, remembering.
"Ethan said it would be much better if we both went."
"And the time Catherine asked if you wanted to sing at her wedding?" Tiffany goes on.
Taylor stares at the ground for a long beat before answering, making sure it isn't opening up beneath her.
"Ethan thought we'd sound better as a duo, and in the end Catherine didn't hire us."
"And when the radio host invited you in for an interview?"
Taylor falls silent. Suddenly, a lot of memories like those start to surface.
"It's a pattern that's repeated over and over, Taylor, and I'm sorry I didn't do anything sooner, but I can't stay quiet now—not when you have so much on the line."
Taylor gets to her feet abruptly, pacing the yard as she shakes out her hands.
"You can't be implying my brother sabotages me on purpose. That's—fuck, Tiff—that's a shitty thing to say."
"I'm not saying he does it on purpose—at least not consciously.
" Tiffany stands too, moving closer. "But unconsciously.
.. Ethan is a competent musician, but there are plenty like him.
You, Taylor, you're extraordinary. He knows it, I know it, we all know it, and Abigail only had to hear you once to know it.
I think the only one who doesn't know it is you, because Ethan's made sure you believe you're mediocre all the time. "
"Stop," Taylor turns to her. "Stop it."
"Does it bother you because it's a lie, or because you know it's true?"
Taylor goes still, feeling as if Tiffany has pressed a finger to a wound she didn't even know she had and now it won't stop bleeding.
"He encouraged me to start singing, Tiff," she says, on the verge of tears.
Tiffany takes both her hands.
"Yes, when you were teenagers and it was fun. But now that it could turn into something real—something that might take you away from him—is he still that enthusiastic?"
The truth in her sister's words is devastating for Taylor. She thinks about the conversation this afternoon, when her brother couldn't be happy for her and focused only on how it would affect him if she accepted Abigail's offer. Her head spins; she feels slightly dizzy, and angry, too.
"He told me to ask Abigail to include him in the deal."
"Of course he did," Tiffany sighs. "Taylor, look at me."
Taylor looks up. She and Tiffany don't look alike at all. Her older sister is the only one of the three who has their father's blond hair and blue eyes. Ethan is a mix of both—dark hair, light eyes—and she's a carbon copy of their mother.
"I love you. And I want you to be happy. But more than that, I want you to have the chance to find out how far you can go. And I don't think you'll ever know if you keep waiting for Ethan to be ready to let you go."
"And what if you're wrong? What if he's really protecting me?" Taylor asks.
"You're smart—you know I'm right. Now I want you to forget about him for a moment and think only about yourself. What do you want, Taylor? Regardless of what Ethan wants, what our parents might think about all this, or what I might say. What do you want?" Tiffany presses.
Taylor thinks of Abigail, of that moment at the end of their conversation, when she reminded her the decision had to be hers.
"Well, I..."
"Come on, say it," her sister coaxes with a smile.
"I want to do it," she whispers, smiling, feeling guilty just for thinking it and saying it out loud, but she can't stop smiling as she admits it. "I want Abigail to represent me, to see how far I can go, and to have the chance for my voice to be heard on a stage bigger than Rusty's."
"And?" Tiffany prompts.
"And I'm about to shit my pants," she admits with a little laugh.
Her sister lets out a small chuckle.
"I'm afraid of failing, of Abigail being wrong about me, of disappointing her, and you, and everyone—of not being enough," Taylor goes on.
"All those fears are normal," her sister says softly. "You know what scares me?"
"What?"
"That you stay here because of that fear and spend the rest of your life wondering what would have happened if you'd dared."
Taylor sighs hard.
"And what if Ethan's right? What if Abigail just wants to use me?"
Tiffany bites her tongue, understanding just how much their brother has undermined Taylor's confidence in everything to do with her talent.
"What do you think of her? And do me a favor—don't think with your sex," Tiffany asks.
Taylor's laugh is spontaneous and light, and it gives her a bit of relief.
She thinks of Abigail and all that cool reserve that surrounds her and fascinates Taylor—and above all, of the conviction with which she spoke about her talent.
Either Abigail really believes in her, or she's the best liar Taylor has ever met.
"I think she's legit, that she's serious," Taylor says, biting her lip.
"Then talk to her, Taylor. It's normal to have a lot of doubts at the beginning, and I doubt you're the first," Tiffany says.
"That woman has probably seen it all. If she really wants you to work with her, I don't think she'll have any problem clearing up all your doubts.
Meet with her and ask everything that comes to mind.
And if after that you're not convinced, then say no.
But if it's a yes..." Tiffany's smile widens and she shrugs.
Taylor hugs her and lets her sister squeeze her with all the strength she can muster in that moment.
"Hey, about her and you..." Tiffany says, pulling away from Taylor to look at her.
Her little sister seems to read her mind.
"You mean the fact that she slept with me? I don't think she knew it was me—at least the first time," Taylor laughs.
"First time? How many times have you screwed her?" Tiffany asks, unable to hold back her laughter.
"That doesn't matter. The point is, I don't think she knew at the beginning."
"It wouldn't be very professional of her if that were the case," Tiffany concludes.
Taylor doesn't care whether it's professional or not; sleeping with Abigail is one of the best experiences she's had lately, not to say the best she can remember, but she'll ask her anyway.
"What would you do if you were me?" Taylor asks, just out of curiosity. "I mean, if you got an offer like this."
For Taylor, her sister has always been a mystery—open about some things, completely closed off about others.
"I don't have your talent, or your passion, or that fire in your voice, but if I did, I think I'd have already told her yes," Tiffany answers.
"Just like that, so fast? You'd leave your family without thinking about it?" Taylor falters.
Tiffany groans. She stays silent for a few seconds, looking at Taylor, and comes to the conclusion that their brother is an emotional leech who has been sucking her sister's blood for far too long, and she should have stopped it sooner.
She understands that Taylor is now asking what she fears—what she knows their brother will say if she leaves.
"If you go, you won't be leaving us behind, Taylor—you'll be growing, and we'll still love you. Do you understand that?" Tiffany asks, taking her by the shoulders.
Taylor looks at her intently for a few seconds before nodding.
"I'm going to call her," Taylor decides, pulling out her phone.
"Yeah, go on." Tiffany motions for her to step aside, and her little sister shuffles off across the yard as she dials the number on the card Abigail gave her.
"Hello," Abigail answers in her particular clipped tone, and Taylor can't help picturing her by the window of the room, just like she found her when she went in yesterday to...
"It's Taylor."
Abigail is sitting in front of her laptop—working, of course—and she stops looking at the screen to lean back in her chair.
"Go on."
"Can we talk tomorrow? I can pick you up for breakfast," Taylor suggests.
"All right. Nine o'clock," Abigail replies, as if closing a deal.
"Okay. Nine."
Taylor hangs up and looks at the phone as if Abigail were about to step out of the screen.
"All set?" Tiffany asks from the chair.
"Yeah. I'm having breakfast with her tomorrow."
"Great," her sister says.
"Yeah, now move your ass. I told Dad I'd go to dinner, and you're coming with me."
"Why am I supposed to go?" Tiffany asks, but she gets up from the chair.
"Because you're my sister, and you don't want to leave me alone when I tell them and they start asking me absurd questions like whether I'll be coming home to sleep at night."
Tiffany lets out a laugh and goes inside with Taylor to get dressed.
She'll go with her, but not to protect her from their parents' silly questions, parents who probably won't grasp the magnitude of the offer Abigail Stone has made their youngest daughter.
She'll do it to protect her from Ethan, the way she should have started doing a long time ago.