“I would never.” I can’t believe I’m hearing her say this. I know I could have left, but I didn’t because of them . . . and because of my sisters and the animals and the farm. It felt like the whole world was against us sometimes, and it was only through our shared strength that we made it. What kind of person would I be if I’d left them behind just to make myself happy?
“Well, maybe you should think about taking a break from Glenhollow so you can see how the other half lives.”
My head is spinning. It’s like she’s giving me a permission slip to abandon the family. “I don’t want to be a part of the other half. People who have a lot of money are assholes.”
“Not necessarily. You can do a lot of good things with money. And I’m not telling you to take the money they’re offering, because I’m sure it comes with strings, but stay there for a couple weeks and do your thing. They’re going to pay you something for your work, right? Maybe do a little shopping. Eat in some cool restaurants. And make sure you send us pictures.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to take the job.”
“Okay, but if you do, then do everything I just said.” She laughs.
“Would you tell Rose and Em that I called?”
“Yes, I will tell your Siamese twins that you called, and I will fill them in on what you said. I know they’re working on getting you a ticket. I told them to get one that’s open-ended, though, so don’t worry about what date you decide to come back. It’ll all work out.”
“Oh. Wow. Okay.” I pause, one more thing on my mind that I need to fix. “Are you mad at me that I left without talking to you first?”
“Not at all. It’s about time you guys got your own lives and did what you needed to do without asking your mommies for permission.”
I’m more than a little stunned by her answer. They’ve been so protective of us all our lives, and I’m positive they were grateful when I decided to stay rather than start my life elsewhere. “Why the change of heart? Why are you suddenly so willing to let us go?”
She lets out a long sigh. “Your mothers and I have had several long talks since that lawyer visited. We realize that we’ve made some mistakes. I think we’re ready to own up to that now. You and your sisters have been pretty sheltered, and we thought we were doing the right thing raising you that way, but now, we’re thinking maybe we should have done things a little differently.”
“Because of the money?”
“No, it has nothing to do with the money. But it has everything to do with your attitude about men and your fathers.”
“The abandoners, you mean.”
“Yes, but I don’t think it’s fair, for the record, that you call them that. Remember, we left without saying a word to them. Ted and Darrell knew, but not the others. Who knows what would’ve happened if we’d had a conversation with them first, before we decided to leave. We thought we knew how they’d react based on things they’d said about kids and wives before we got pregnant, and we thought we knew what the consequences of staying would be for all of us, but how could we have? We were so sure back then, so full of our vision for our lives . . . so ignorant . . .” She sighs heavily. “It’s too late to wonder about the what-ifs now, but do me a favor and keep this stuff in mind. Twenty-five years ago, we made a decision that impacted everyone, and at the time, it seemed like the right one. But as you get older, you look back on the things that you did and the choices you made, and you wonder if they were the right ones.”
“That’s funny you say that . . . Red said the exact same thing to me this morning.”
“I always did love that man,” she says almost sadly.
That’s it. If I do take this job, I’m going to make sure my mothers see their groupie crushes at least one more time before they die. It’s ridiculous that these longtime fans and old-fart musicians think about one another with such fondness but don’t even bother picking up the telephone.
I’m a little closer to making a decision, thanks to Carol, but I really need to speak with two more people who I pray will try to talk me out of it. “I’ll wait for Rose and Em to call me before I make any decisions.”
“You are your own woman, Amber. You don’t need to get permission from them any more than you need to get permission from your mothers.”
“I know. Thanks, Carol. I love you.”
“Love you too, kid. Chin up. Life is meant to be exciting. Go live it.”
I pull the phone away from my ear and disconnect the call, imagining the look on Carol’s face as she hangs up on her end of the line. She’s tough, but she has a very soft center, and I’ll bet she’s crying.
Regret sucks. I can’t even imagine how much of it our mothers are living with right now. I don’t want to end up like them—in my forties and wishing I’d made different choices when I was younger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I can’t wait around in this hotel room all morning for my sisters to get back from wherever they are—probably talking to the travel agent about a new ticket for me. I need to clear my head.
I leave the room with my bag over my shoulder and take the elevator down to the lobby. I wave at James and Jeremy on my way out and stop just outside the main doors. I look left and right, trying to figure out which direction I should take.
“May I help you find something? Would you like me to call you a cab?”
I smile at the older gentleman who works as a doorman for the hotel. “Actually, if you could tell me how to get to Central Park from here, that would be great.”
He points up the street. “Just head in that direction for two blocks. You can’t miss it.”
Now that I look in the direction he’s pointing, I think I can already see it. Duh. “Thank you very much.”
“Don’t mention it.”
I walk with purpose, glad to be out. The fresh air is bracing. My mood has shifted considerably; today’s a great day to be alive. A half hour ago it felt like everything was hopeless, that I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. But after talking to Carol, something inside me has changed. I don’t know what it is. Did I just become an adult instantaneously after one conversation? It kind of feels that way.
Before I arrived in New York, I never really questioned who I was or where I came from. It didn’t matter. I had the farm, I had my sisters, and I had my mothers. We also had the occasional housemate or people pitching tents on the farm, and they always kept life interesting. The farmers’ market is always fun. We have our regulars and new people who pass through. For me, that was almost enough; it wasn’t that difficult taking my dream of another life and locking it away in the dark recesses of my mind. But as I head down to Central Park amid the noise and the fumes and the smells of cooking food and brewing coffee, I wonder if it really is enough. Am I hibernating out there? Am I hiding from the real world and from what I really want to be doing?
I’m not sure that’s the case. It sounds a little melodramatic when I hear it echoing around inside my head. But I think it would be wrong to dismiss the idea that maybe I should get out more and try new things once in a while . . . just to be sure that the life I’m living is the one that I’m choosing to live and not the one that I ended up in by default.
My phone rings and I pick it up without looking at the number. “I am so glad you called.” I need to get Rose’s and Em’s opinion on all this stuff.
“Well . . . okay . . . that’s not the hello I was expecting, but I’ll take it.”
I stop immediately, causing someone behind me to bump into my back. A man dressed in leather pants and jacket, his hair teased with a few feathers hanging in it, apologizes and goes on his way. Wow. There are all kinds of people in this city.
“Where did you get my number?” I ask the troublesome man on the phone. I can’t believe Ty is calling me.
“Lister gave it to me. I just stopped by your hotel but you weren’t there.” He sounds funny.
“No, that’s right; I’m not there.” I cock my hip and rest my elbow against my
ribs.
“Can I ask where you are?”
“Sure, you can ask . . .” I start walking again, more slowly this time.
“But you might not tell me?” he says, finishing my sentence for me.
“I don’t know. I’m really not sure what to say to you, Ty, I have to be honest.”
“Just tell me you’re not at the airport.”
“No, I’m not at the airport.” My stupid heart soars with the knowledge that he doesn’t want me to leave town.
“Good. So where are you?”
There’s no way I’m going to get out of this, but I’m not sure that I want to anyway, so . . . “I’m walking to Central Park.” It’s a half a block ahead.
“Oh. Are you there yet?”
“No, not quite.” I’m waiting for another light to cooperate. A crowd of tourists with cameras slung around their necks surrounds me. They’re speaking animatedly in a language I don’t know.
“Cool. Wait for me. I’ll catch up.”
I panic. “No. Don’t catch up.”
He laughs. “Why not?”
“Because. I’m taking a walk. Alone.” I’m not ready to see him. I have too many big life decisions to make right now, and seeing him is only going to make things more confusing.
“You can’t possibly be walking alone. This is New York City.”
He thinks he’s charming. I scowl. “You know what I mean.”
“Is it that you don’t want to take a walk with anyone or you just don’t want to take one with me?”
This man is so exasperating. “What difference does it make?” He made it perfectly clear how he feels about me last night when he threw me under the bus. Why is he trying to be cute with me now?
“I just thought we could have a little chat. A friendly conversation, no big deal.”
“I was going to Central Park to clear my head. That’s going to be pretty hard to do if I’m having a chat with you.”
“How about I escort you down to the park and we can chat on the way . . . and once we get there, I’ll leave you alone?”
“I’m almost there.”
“So? I can be short and sweet when I need to be.”
He’s being so reasonable, I’m finding it hard to deny him. At some point I’m just going to sound bitchy, and that’s not who I want to be with him. Besides . . . I’m only a half a block away . . .
“Fine. But I’m not stopping. If you can catch up to me, fine.” I hang up the phone without another word and slide it into my purse. The light hasn’t even turned green yet when I feel somebody tapping me on the shoulder. I turn around and find Ty there.
“Hey,” he says, completely out of breath, heaving and holding his chest.
He’s wearing a dirty baseball hat, big aviator sunglasses, and the same gross jeans he was wearing yesterday, with a really old, faded Red Hot T-shirt that has the band’s first album cover on it.
“Did you just run all the way from the hotel?”
“Yeah. As soon as you told me where you were headed, I started. Saw you from down the block.” He massages his chest and winces. “Man, am I out of shape or what?”
He could’ve fooled me. He may be out of breath, but the muscles in his arms make me think he goes to the gym every day. To distract myself from further evaluation of his hot body, I turn toward my destination and start walking with the tourists as they move out into the street. “Try to keep up.”
“I hear you had a meeting with Red this morning,” he says, easily keeping pace with me.
“I might have.” I want to know so badly how much he knows about that meeting and if he was included in their plan, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of having something over me.
“That’s cool. I hope you guys can work something out.”
Clearly, he wants to know more, and I would really love to share details of my life with this man, because it almost always feels good to have a conversation with somebody and get another opinion on it—but I don’t like the idea of becoming vulnerable to him. He’s already shown me that he’ll turn on me in a second. It makes me cranky to think of how well we get along sometimes and then how not well we get along when one of his moods strikes.
“You said some things that really got the band talking last night,” he says.
“Oh yeah? That’s great.” We reach the other side of the street and the entrance to Central Park.
“Are you mad about that?” he asks.
“No, I’m happy for you. I really am.” I need to calm my attitude down. He’s just trying to be nice, even though he’s also attempting to dig information out of me. He thinks he’s so sneaky, but he’s not at all.
“I think they’re ready to make some changes. I’m actually pretty surprised. I never thought I’d hear them say some of the things they said.”
He just keeps dangling carrot after carrot in front of me. How am I supposed to resist this? “Cool.” I’ll just try to keep the conversation going with as little commitment as possible until I reach the interior of the park.
“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” he says.
“Yes, I do mind.”
“Good, because I’m really curious.”
I pause to stare at him. “I just said I do mind.”
His grin is lopsided. “I know. But I’m going to ignore that part.”
I shake my head and continue walking. “You are so nosy.” And charming.
“I am. But only with you.”
My heart skips a beat. Even though I know he’s making a joke, for a split second, he made me feel special. “What do you want to know?” I ask, willing to at least hear him out. We’ve reached the park, but I’m not yet ready to tell him to leave me alone. Hopefully, he’ll push one of my buttons soon and make it easy on me.
“I don’t have all of the story, but from what I understand, you have two sisters, right?”
“Correct. Rose and Emerald.”
“Emerald. Cool name.”
“We call her Em.”
“Yeah, that’s probably more manageable than Emerald.”
If he could see my sister’s eyes, he might second-guess that idea. Our mothers call her Emerald almost all the time, and it suits her; I’m just lazy with names.
“And you guys all live together on a hippie commune, like you said, right?”
“Yes. In Maine.”
“And you all think that somebody in the band is your father?”
“No, that’s not correct.”
“See? I’m confused. Help me figure this out.”
I stop and put a hand on my hip. “Why? Why does it matter to you?”
He stands there looking at me for the longest time. All I can see is the reflection of my own face in the lens of his sunglasses.
“I wish to hell I knew,” he finally says.
“Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”
“I know.” He smiles. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”
I roll my eyes at his ability to be both charming and annoying at the same time. How does he do that? Am I the only one who notices this skill he has?
“What?” he asks.
“Nothing.” I shake my head to rid it of these silly thoughts and continue our walk. We’re moving farther into the park, but the idea of him leaving makes me sad, so I keep talking to keep him at my side. “We were told that our fathers are in the band. We are not saying anything about it.”
“Who told you? Was it Lister?”
“It started with Lister when he visited our house two weeks ago to tell us. But our mothers have since confirmed it.”
“So, before Lister came to your place, you had no idea?”
“No. No idea.” I shake my head. I still can’t believe it when I seriously think about it. Me? A daughter of someone in Red Hot? Naaahhhh . . .
“That is really hard to believe.”
My blood starts to heat up at the tone in his voice, and not in a good way. “Believe it if you want or not, I don’t
care.”
He continues, oblivious to my rising temper, if his tone is anything to judge by. “I mean, how can you not know who your fathers are? Especially when they’re famous like that? Why would your mothers keep that from you?”
I try to walk faster, but hoping I’ll be able to leave him behind is pointless. He has longer legs than me and he definitely can’t take a hint.
“I mean, I’ve known who my father was since birth, but if I didn’t, I sure as hell would be looking for him until I found him. Did you look for them?”
“No, we did not.”
“Why not?” he asks.
I want to leap to my mothers’ defense and tell him we had no reason to look for men our mothers couldn’t even identify, but now I know better—they knew all along where to find the men who helped bring us into the world. Regardless, I’m not going to let Ty’s careless words cause me to be angry with my mothers. They did what they felt they had to do, and I do not doubt for one second how much they love my sisters and me. I don’t need to justify their actions to this guy.
“Because . . . we’re not like you, I guess,” I say. “We’re happy with our lives.” Sure, maybe that was an insult, but so what? He’s being rude, so I can be rude too. Carol’s mention of two wrongs not making a right burns in my brain. Shut up, conscience!
“What are you planning to do here in the park?”
“Be alone.”
I feel his hand on my arm and it slows me down.
“I’m pissing you off again, aren’t I?”
I pull my arm out of his grasp and take a step away to put more distance between us. “Yes, you are. You’re very good at it, and I don’t think you’re even trying this time.”
He hisses out his annoyance but doesn’t say anything. He shoves his hands into his pockets and starts walking again with his head down. I go too, not wanting him to wander off without me. Our business together isn’t finished yet, but I sense it’s about to come to a close very soon.
Every once in a while, somebody will stop and glance at us or do a double take, but so far we’ve managed to walk through this part of Central Park without being molested. But I’m pretty sure if we slow down too much or stop, people will start taking a closer look at him, and then my plans of having a calming walk will be over.