Forty-Four
FORTY-FOUR
A LOVEJOY BY ANY OTHER NAME
As we end the song, I look side stage once more and Don’s disappeared. My mother’s still there, looking tortured. I’ve definitely stirred something up.
We’ve barely hit the last note on “Don’t You Want Me” and are making our way off stage when I’m pulled through the black curtain that separates backstage from the lower concourse behind the stage. My mother’s manicured nails are biting into my arm as she hustles me to the side. I look behind me and reach for Kick who’s hot on my heels. Deacon and Don are right behind him.
“Candy,” someone says, coming up and air kissing my mother’s cheeks, “so good to run into you here. Is this your new artist? I just caught the show and it was phenomenal.” She turns to me and Kick and holds out her hand. “Harper Deegan from Deegan Records. Thanks so much for inviting me out. Loved your set. Deacon, Don, great to see you both.”
“Nice to see you, Harper, it’s been a long time,” Deacon says.
“Cass Zimmerman,” Cass says, popping up behind me and reaching around to shake Harper’s hand. “Kick and Mari’s manager. Thank you so much for coming out tonight. ”
My mother’s eyes bug out of her head at Cass’s introduction but she quickly puts her pro face back on.
Kick and I shake hands and exchange hellos with Harper while my mother mentally scowls at me, her celebrity manager face perfectly engaged with Harper like this is a big, happy family reunion.
“This is my daughter, Penny Lovejoy,” she offers. Her tone is light but commanding, leaving no room for a follow-up. Deacon glares at Don while Don stares blank-faced.
Harper startles. “Oh? So…”
“Mari Gold’s my stage name,” I offer.
“Don’t want to be mistaken for your sister, I take it?” Harper says with a sparkling laugh, like this is all so easy and explainable.
“Daughter?” Deacon asks my mother, his eyes wide and a little scared.
“Harper,” my mother says, voice dripping, “would you mind terribly if we have a little family catch-up and find you in a few?”
“Of course, yes. I’ll be here.”
“Thanks, Harper,” I manage to say. “We’ll definitely catch up with you.”
I hold on tight to Kick’s hand, letting him know I want him to stay, no matter what’s about to happen. Cass is glued to my side, both she and Kick holding me up in case this all goes to hell, which at this moment, feels imminent.
“Candy,” Deacon says. “What’s going on?”
We’re standing in a six-person circle, the intensity crisscrossing between us blocking out the backstage pandemonium happening all around us.
“It’s good to see you guys,” my mother says. “What’s it been? Twenty years?”
She glances at me, her mask slipping, nerves breaking through.
“Almost twenty-five,” Don says .
Deacon’s shaking his head in confusion. “You said Mari’s your daughter?”
“And you,” Don says, turning to me, “where did you get that song?”
“Two minutes guys,” Rod says, busting into the circle and calling the Sparrow brothers away.
They both look at my mother, conflicted and dumbstruck, but in different ways. “Will you stay?” Don asks.
She nods. “I’ll be here. There’s more to say.”
I want to scream at her, want the band-aid ripped off, want answers to questions I’ve never known how to ask, but we’re surrounded by more label people saying hi. Shawn Ware from Firelight. Harry Ortega from Anthill. Jeff Otto from Last Stop. Emily keeps walking by and glaring at us before donning her best schmooze voice, like she thinks by inserting herself she’ll be able to change their minds about us. I can’t care. We performed our asses off tonight. The label people will either like it or they won’t.
I do my best to smile and be gracious. Kick and Cass easily charm everyone we meet even with my mother hovering over every conversation. I couldn’t be prouder of Cass. Even though we semi-forced her into this role, she’s handling it like she’s been doing it for years. We get a short minute where we’re not talking to any label people and I immediately pull my mother aside.
“Why did you lie to me about who my father is?” I know it’s not the best opener, but I have to get it out before I talk myself out of it.
“Penny. Don’t do this. Please.”
I pull out my phone and show her the photo. “Who is this? You told me it was my father, but it’s Don Sparrow isn’t it? All this time, Don Sparrow was my father, my father was alive , and you decided, what, that I shouldn’t know about that?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“It’s actually pretty damn simple. Is John Lovejoy my father or isn’t he? ”
“Penny, this isn’t the time or the place for a conversation this important.”
“That’s just it, Mother. You’ve never had a time or place. I had to change my name and get on a national tour to find out for myself.”
She shakes her head. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Mom,” I call as she hurries away through the crowd of people milling around the concourse. “Mom!”