Chapter 31 Taevin #3
I’ve just completed building a nest of blankets and pillows on the sofa in the living room when Kyle calls me. Accepting the call, I put him on speaker so I can finish setting things up for when Walker gets here any minute.
“Hey, Kyle.”
“Oh, so you do know how to answer your phone. Good, I was getting worried that maybe you’d lost it,” he says in greeting.
“Clearly not lost. What’s up?”
That question apparently earns me a scoff. “What’s up is that my biggest artist isn’t creating anything at the moment except for speculation and negative media buzz.”
“Kyle,” I say his name in warning. “You are one of only a handful of people aside from the label who knows why I am not creating anything right now.”
He hums dismissively. “Look, you’re the one who gallivanted back to Minnesota to live with your estranged husband. And you’ve even got a studio inside his house. You’d think that would inspire you to at least write and record some things while you’re taking your time off.”
I fluff—more like karate punch—the pillow in front of me to get some of my frustration out.
“I’m going to cut you off right there. Are you missing the point of why I’m taking time off right now?
I have cancer, Kyle. And you already know that.
Forgive me if I can barely function through the nausea and exhaustion, let alone try to create anything worth recording while I’ve got extreme brain fog. ”
He lets out a deep sigh on the other end of the phone.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just been really difficult to dodge every news outlet’s questions on your whereabouts and why you’ve taken time away when you’re supposed to be recording your album.
The timing thankfully worked out to where the label hadn’t announced and scheduled the tour you were supposed to have next summer. ”
“So what’s this really about?” I question him, grabbing my phone and doing my best not to stomp into the kitchen to finish prepping the snacks.
“I need you to make an appearance. Well, actually, I need you to perform for the Country Gives Back Concert happening in Nashville the week before Thanksgiving.”
I scoff, because is he for real right now? “I’m not traveling to Nashville while I’m in the middle of treatments.”
“The label was adamant that their artists be among the performers.”
Even though he can’t see me, I throw my hands up in frustration. “I believe I am exempt from that list during my leave.”
“Unfortunately not when it comes to this performance. Can’t your medical team in Minnesota connect with the one you had here in Nashville if there’s anything that comes up?”
What the fuck is his deal?
“Why are you acting this way?” I ask, hurt and confusion lacing my tone.
“What way is that?”
“So pushy and persistent? I don’t get it.”
“It’s not like you had a baby and you’re on maternity leave or anything that the label has listed in your contract.”
I rear back as if I’ve been hit. Is he serious right now?
“That was below the belt,” I choke out, fighting back tears.
Kyle sighs again. “This is why I hate communicating over the phone. You know we communicate best in person. Things have a way of getting misunderstood like this.”
“Maybe you’d have an argument if we were texting. But you said that and now you can’t take it back.”
“What I meant was the label would be more understanding if you were taking a maternity leave to heal and bond with a baby, but unfortunately your current circumstances are different.”
“Yeah, because instead of healing from giving birth, I’m healing from a hysterectomy and receiving chemotherapy.
And instead of taking care of a baby, I’m taking care of myself.
How could you even ask me to perform during this time?
And by November, I might look even more unrecognizable than I already do,” I point out, my voice quivering with a mix of hurt and anger.
“Even more reason to get a performance in so your fans don’t think the worst.”
My hands are shaking so badly I have to grip onto the counter to steady myself.
“I’m not sure why you’re not hearing what I’m saying .
. . I don’t give a fuck what my fans or the label, or anyone else thinks for that matter.
I am fighting for my life, Kyle. I thought you of all people would understand that. ”
He sighs on the other end. “I know you. And that is why I know you don’t want all of the little girls who’ve looked up to you for years now to be disappointed in you thinking you’re hiding out in some rehab center in the Bahamas.
Do the performance, give back to the community who gave you your career, and then you can get back on a private jet to Minnesota in no time. ”
I don’t respond at first. I’m honestly too pissed off to find words right now. He’s right, he does know me far too well, which is how he knew just the right thing to say to manipulate me into doing the performance.
“When did you say the concert was again?”
“Saturday, November 18th. It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving.”
I keep him on speaker so I can scroll through my calendar app, and that’s when I notice Jackson will be on an away trip.
He actually has a game in Nashville that Friday before they head home for a home game on Monday.
Maybe he could try to get out of traveling home with the team and stay an extra night with me.
It’s a long shot, but it’s worth the ask.
I’m just about to add the concert to my calendar when I realize the timing of events.
“I’ve got a round of chemo that Tuesday.
So far I haven’t been feeling well for the four to five days following treatments.
There’s a very real possibility I will be too tired or sick to perform, but as of right now you can tell the label I’ll do it.
One song. I refuse to do anything more. And it’ll be a song of my choosing.
I want full creative control if I’m going to agree to this. ”
I can hear the smugness seeping through the line when Kyle says, “I can work with that. I’ll give them a call now.
See, I knew you’d come around. Next time don’t make me have to work so hard for it.
” He chuckles as if what he’s said is funny, but like most things when it comes to Kyle lately, I get this funny feeling deep in the pit of my gut.
“Right. Well I’ll let you get to it.”
Before I can hang up, he pleads with me. “You know I’m just looking out for your best interests, right?”
I bite back the snarky retort he’s rightfully earned himself tonight and instead say, “Sure. Bye, Kyle.”
I don’t give him a chance to say his goodbyes before I end the call. Something feels off, and if I’m being honest with myself, it has for awhile now. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I’m also too exhausted to try to contemplate it much farther right now.
Lying down on the glorious bed of blankets, I let out a deep sigh and debate whether or not to take another cat nap before Walker gets here. With all the unease that has slithered up my spine, this little bestie date night really could not have come at a better time.