The Daughters Take the Stage

  “Mom, I saw the e-mail from Jenny—”

  “You’re grounded,” Holla said. “Do you understand?”

  “Mom, I’m sorry,” Hudson said, feeling tears come to her eyes. “It was just a mistake.”

  “Oh, really? A mistake? Sophie?” Holla said, sounding like she was just barely keeping herself under control.

  Hudson saw that Sophie held a rolled-up newspaper. It uncurled just enough to show the front page, and the New York Post masthead.

  “Look at Page Six,” Holla said.

  Sophie handed Hudson the newspaper, without looking her in the eye. With shaking hands, Hudson found the page.

  It was a photo of her with Ben. One of the photos that had been taken the previous night when they walked to the deli. And underneath was the caption:

  Hudson Jones, daughter of icon Holla Jones, leaving Violet’s, where she wowed the crowd last night with her own jazz- and soul-inspired songs.

  “It’s one thing if you’re going to lie to me,” said Holla, her voice eerily cool and controlled, “but your record label is gonna want to know why someone with crippling stage fright is singing at Violet’s.”

  “I was gonna tell you,” she began. “It’s just this band I joined. Up in Westchester.”

  “In Westchester?” Holla exclaimed. “You’ve been going to Westchester?”

  Hudson didn’t say anything.

  “Well, that’s done,” Holla said. “I’m calling your label today and telling them you’re back on track. Do you understand me?”

  Hudson didn’t speak. She knew that her mom meant this.

  “And about Jenny,” Holla said in a withering voice. “Do you know how that made me look? In front of everyone? How could you let me be humiliated like that?”

  Hudson swallowed again. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what to say.”

  “And why would you want to play dumps like Violet’s when you could be playing Madison Square Garden?” Holla asked, her voice ringing against the studio walls. Behind her, Che and Sophie seemed to cower. “When you have a finished album just sitting on the shelf? What’s wrong with you?”

  “I just wanted to do something myself,” Hudson said feebly.

  “Because I’m that horrible. Right? I’m that terrible.” Holla shook her head. “I’ve done nothing but help you. I’ve given you music teachers and voice coaches and studios. And you throw it back in my face. Just like my sister.”

  “What if I don’t want to play the Garden?” Hudson exploded. “What if I don’t want to do things exactly the way you do?” Her voice was getting louder and louder. “What if I don’t need to be a total egomaniac to be happy?”

  Holla’s face went slack. “You’re done with that band. Today. And starting right now, you don’t go anywhere but school and back. Do you understand me?”

  Hudson turned and ran to the door, choking on her tears. She’d forgotten to tell her mom about Chris. But Holla didn’t deserve to know. And when Holla did find out, Hudson wouldn’t be there. She’d never be there for Holla again.

  chapter 25

  “Hudson, it’s okay. Really. It’s okay,” Lizzie said, smoothing Hudson’s hair with the palm of her hand.

  “Come on, you’re gonna make me cry,” Carina pleaded, reaching out to pat Hudson on the back.

  They weren’t supposed to be inside the ladies room off the Chadwick lobby, because technically it was for visitors only. But Lizzie and Carina had pulled Hudson in there the moment they saw her, and Hudson had been only too grateful to follow them. She now stood with her head pressed up against Lizzie’s shoulder, sobbing so hard she thought she might hyperventilate. As soon as she could breathe normally again, Carina wet a paper towel under the faucet and handed it to her.

  “So what happened?” Lizzie asked. “Just tell us.”

  Hudson blotted her face with the paper towel. “My mom found out about the show. It’s on Page Six. And I have to quit the band. And my aunt officially hates me.”

  “That sucks,” Lizzie said.

  “And now it’s all over. Everything. After a great show last night, too.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

  “She was just angry,” Carina reasoned. “Wait until she sees you at a show. She’ll totally change her mind—”

  “No, she won’t, not now. That’s all finished.” Hudson grabbed a dry paper towel and wiped at her eyes. “It’s like there’s no talking to her. There’s no reasoning with her. She said because I signed a contract I should pick up where I left off. But that album just isn’t me. It’s not even my music.”

  “Why don’t you tell her that?” Carina asked. “Just say that. Tell her you want to make an album that reflects you.”

  “I tried,” Hudson said. “That day when you guys were in the studio last fall. Remember how well that worked out?”

  “Look, you’ve been brave, and you’ve put yourself out there, and you’ve gotten out from under your mom’s thumb,” Lizzie pointed out, her hazel eyes calm and reassuring. “And that’s more than anyone else could do in your shoes. Maybe you can rejoin the band in a little while. After things calm down.”

  “And why does your aunt hate you?” Carina asked. “I mean, not to make things worse, but that part I still don’t get.”

  “My mom threw her a party, and I knew my aunt couldn’t be there, and I forgot to tell my mom. You know how controlling she is about stuff. I just couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t say that I’d made a mistake.”

  Her friends looked at her gently. “She’s your mom, H,” Carina said. “She doesn’t expect you to be perfect.”

  “Yes, she does,” Hudson said, feeling the tears start to come again. Hudson glanced in the mirror. Big red blotches spread out from her green eyes down to her cheeks, and her lips were swollen. “She can’t be normal,” Hudson said. “She can’t eat like everyone else. She can’t relax for a second. It’s all about being the best, the biggest, the most amazing person in the world. She wants me to be like that, too. It’s like I’ll be some loser if I don’t end up a superstar.”

  “Do you believe that?” Lizzie asked.

  Hudson swallowed. “No.”

  “So then why does it bother you when she says that?” Lizzie asked.

  Hudson played with the hair elastic around her wrist. “I guess a little part of me is afraid she’s right,” she said quietly.

  Carina looked at her watch. “Oh, shnit. Madame Dupuis’s gonna have a French cow if we don’t get up there.” She put her hands on Hudson’s shoulders. “You okay?”

  Hudson sniffled one last time and then splashed her face with more water. “God, I love school,” she groaned, and then cracked a smile.

  As they walked out of the bathroom, Hudson tried to believe what Lizzie had said. She had been brave. She’d tried to do her own thing. For just a few short weeks, she’d just been Hudson onstage. And it had been wonderful.

  But that was all over now. And the sooner she accepted it, the better.

  chapter 26

  All day Hudson watched the clock. In every class, during every free period, she kept tabs on the time. Twelve o’clock. One o’clock. Two. Every minute that brought her closer to the end of the school day only increased her sense of dread. Spending the evening under the same roof as her mom was pretty much unthinkable. Right now she never wanted to look at or speak to Holla again. She almost asked Lizzie or Carina if she could sleep over. But whatever was waiting for her at home, she knew that she needed to face it. At least the worst seemed to be over.

  When she walked out of school, the black SUV was waiting right at the curb, directly in front of the school doors. Holla had meant what she’d said about tightening her grip on Hudson’s comings and goings.

  “Bye, guys,” she said to Lizzie and Carina as they hovered by the side of the school building, shielding themselves from the rain. “Say a prayer.”

  “You just have to get through tonight,” Carina said.

  “Maybe your mom will recons
ider the band thing,” Lizzie put in.

  But as the SUV inched its way downtown, Hudson doubted it. For all she knew her mom had already booked her time in the studio to finish the album and get it released by summer. When she got home she took the service elevator up from the basement and walked into the kitchen, holding her breath.

  “Your mother’s upstairs,” Raquel said sternly, arranging a spray of white flowers. “She wants to talk to you.”

  Hudson felt an even bigger wave of dread. “Thanks,” she said listlessly, then took the elevator to the fourth floor, which belonged entirely to Holla’s suite of private rooms. Hudson walked down the hall, past the pale peach-colored bedroom and gym, where Holla ran on the treadmill and lifted weights in the afternoons. Then she turned into the closet. She slipped off her boots at the entrance—Holla didn’t like the idea of dirt so near her clothes—and entered.

  Holla was standing on a pedestal in a magenta bandage dress, flanked by mirrored closet doors that magnified her reflection over and over, so that it looked like there were at least a hundred Hollas in the room. Kierce, her stylist, sat on a tufted ottoman to one side. He had a long black ponytail, ghostly pale skin, and a permanent, disapproving squint. Even though he wore only black, he was always trying to get Hudson to wear bright colors.

  “We’re looking at stuff for Saturday Night Live,” Holla said curtly. “What do you think?” She twirled around on the pedestal with her hands on her waist, showing off the dress, which hugged every curve. “You like the color?”

  “The color is not even a question,” Kierce put in.

  “I like it,” Hudson said, relieved to talk about fashion.

  “I don’t know. I don’t like what it does here,” Holla said, gesturing to her flat stomach. “It gives me a pooch.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Hudson said. “It looks really nice. I swear.”

  “And Kierce has a few things for you.”

  “For me?”

  With a glum stare, Kierce took several clothes bags out of a cabinet and handed them to Hudson. “There’s some Rodarte in there,” he said. “Don’t even ask me what I had to do to get that.”

  “But what is this for?” Hudson asked, giving Kierce a weak smile as she took the clothes.

  “Saturday Night Live,” Holla announced. “You’re doing it with me. It’s all set. March seventh. Two weeks.” She turned to Kierce. “Would you unzip me, please?”

  The bag of clothes slid out of Hudson’s hands. “What?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “If you can try things on now that would be best,” Holla said. “Kierce can take back whatever doesn’t work.”

  “But, but…” she stammered. “Why am I doing Saturday Night Live?”

  Kierce unzipped her dress. “Because I sent them one of your tracks,” Holla said, “and they called back this afternoon saying they wanted you.”

  “So this was your idea?” Hudson asked, panicked.

  “Honey, your label’s thrilled. And I think in light of everything, this is the best thing for you.” She stepped out of the dress and into the royal blue shirred silk dress that Kierce held open for her. “Most people have to wait ’til they have a huge hit to get on Saturday Night Live. But they want you now.”

  Her heart was pounding. “Mom, I can’t,” she said.

  “Hudson…” Holla warned.

  “I’m in a band now,” she said bravely. “I need to be there for them. They’re my priority.”

  “That’s over,” Holla snapped, turning her back so that Kierce could zip her up.

  “It’s not. I made a promise to them. And they like my music. They like me for me.”

  “Really?” Holla asked, turning around. “Are you sure about that?”

  “What?” Hudson asked, picking up on her mom’s sarcastic tone.

  “Sophie heard from the publicist for Joe’s Pub today,” Holla said, suppressing a grin. “Apparently they’d been told—promised, actually—that I’d be playing a show there. In exchange for booking your band.”

  Hudson blinked. “That… that can’t be right,” she said.

  “Sounds like a real loyal bunch of people,” Holla said thickly. She assessed her reflection and turned back around. “Unzip me again,” she said to Kierce.

  Hudson stood there motionless. She didn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe it. But then she remembered what Ben had said that night in front of Ellie’s house, about how getting ahead was ninety percent connections… and she started to feel a rumble of anger down deep inside of her.

  “They’re using you, honey,” Holla said, stepping out of the dress. “I just thought you should know.”

  The sour taste of anger filled Hudson’s mouth. “And your boyfriend’s using you,” she shot back. “I saw him leaving a bar with some woman. Holding her hand. And kissing her.”

  Holla froze, one leg out of the dress. “What?”

  “I saw him last night,” she said. “He was with someone. On a date. I saw them leaving some club.” She knew she was being cruel, but she couldn’t help herself. “Where’d he tell you he was last night?”

  Holla still didn’t move. “Visiting his family,” she said hoarsely.

  “Not from what I saw.”

  Kierce looked appalled. “Didn’t you say he was in Poughkeepsie?” he asked Holla.

  “So he’s just like all the others, isn’t he, Mom?” Hudson asked. “He really loves the spotlight. But you? Not so sure.”

  It was probably the meanest thing she’d ever said to her mother, but right now, the words were flying out of her mouth.

  “Kierce, please hand me my phone,” Holla said. She remained perfectly still. “I think that’s enough now, Hudson. Why don’t you just worry about your own life, okay?”

  Hudson stormed out of the closet, grabbed her shoes, and went down a flight of stairs. Her heart was beating so fast it was all she could hear. When she reached her room, she pulled out her iPhone.

  Ben picked up on the second ring. “Hudson? Hey, what’s up?”

  “Did you call Joe’s Pub and tell them that my mom would play there?” she asked breathlessly.

  “What? No,” he said. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, someone did,” she said. “Remember what you said about connections? How it’s all about who you know? How I should use what I have?”

  “What?” Ben sounded utterly thrown. “Hudson… what’s wrong?”

  “This isn’t a game to me,” she said. “The whole reason I joined your band was to prove to myself that I could do this, alone.”

  “You’re not alone,” Ben said. “There are three other people in this band besides you. You’re not the only one who wants to get something out of this. And what are we all supposed to do? Not care that you’re the daughter of Holla Jones?”

  “So you told the guys,” she said. “Great.”

  “I thought it was important,” he said.

  “And you told them at Joe’s Pub,” she said. “You told them who I was.”

  “It’s not like we can hide it,” Ben said.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That’s just great. I trusted you.”

  “Hudson, hold on—”

  “Good-bye, Ben,” she said.

  She slammed her finger on End Call before he could reply, then tossed the phone onto the bed as if it were on fire.

  She sat down on the floor with her back to her bed and hugged her knees to her chest. You did the right thing, she said to herself. This all had to end sometime. You knew things would change when you told them who you were. Better to get out now.

  She leaned her forehead against her knees, shutting her eyes against the tears. But she couldn’t escape the feeling that she’d just made a gigantic mistake.

  Then she got an idea. She stood up and went into the other room, where her laptop waited for her on the desk. She logged in to signsnscopes.com and clicked on Pisces.

  Congratulations, little Fish! You achieved a massive breakthro
ugh during the lunar eclipse! Everything you’ve ever wanted is finally within reach… Now all you have to do is go for it!

  Hudson shut the laptop and went straight to bed.

  chapter 27

  “So, tomorrow’s the big night,” Lizzie said, picking some burnt crust off her BLT. “You feeling okay?”

  “I can’t believe you’re doing Saturday Night Live!” Carina squealed, slamming her foot into the base of the diner table. “This is so cool!”

  “I feel fine,” Hudson said to Lizzie as she ate a forkful of coleslaw. “It’s really not that big a deal.” She picked up her Reuben and took a small bite.

  “Are you sure I can’t come?” Carina asked, grabbing Hudson’s hand. “I’ll sit in the audience, way in the back. You won’t even see me, I promise.”

  “You guys, I wish you could,” Hudson said gently. “But it’s all part of my master plan: making sure nobody sees this. You haven’t told anyone about it, right?”

  Lizzie and Carina shook their heads.

  “Good. And somehow my mom convinced SNL not to promote it,” she said. “And I’m not doing any of the commercials with her, either.”

  “People are going to see this, you know,” Carina reminded her. “Even if it is the first day of spring break.”

  “Thanks, C. You’re really making me feel better.”

  “Then why did you say yes?” Lizzie asked.

  Hudson rolled her eyes. “My mom’s been a wreck ever since the breakup, which was basically my fault.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Hudson,” Carina said.

  “But I told her about it,” Hudson said, taking another bite.

  “And it was the right thing to do,” Lizzie exclaimed. “Somebody had to!”

  “I just wish it hadn’t been me,” she said.

  “We know your mom broke up with some guy, but that’s her life, Hudson, not yours,” Lizzie said. “You shouldn’t do this just because you feel like you have to.”

  “Well, what’s my other option? Being in a band with a bunch of guys I don’t trust?”

  “So the guy used your name to get a booking,” Carina said. “You know how people are. They don’t think sometimes. And you really liked that band.”