I tucked the little man into his bed and headed down the hallway, expecting to find Keira still snoozing on the sofa as she waited for Kona to return from the game. But she wasn’t there and as I listened, her soft laughter and Kona’s deep voice coming from behind their closed bedroom door and I decided to leave without a goodbye that night.
The smile on my face lowered just a bit as I passed the patio doors and caught Ransom sitting on an Adirondack chair with his hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie and his face turned toward the dark lake. He stretched his neck and looked up, his profile perfect against the reflection of the moonlight on the water. I could have watched him all night—the fleshy plump of his beautiful mouth, the sharp edge of his nose and that subtle cleft on his chin. I could have watched him, thought about touching him, thought of ways I’d invent to smooth out the worried wrinkle on his forehead and relax the hard dip of his eyebrows. Maybe I would have stayed there, just watching him, but then Ransom turned his head again and caught me staring.
The look he gave me wasn’t shocked, it didn’t seem like anything could surprise him and at first, caught in the act, I’d felt my face flame with heat, but pushed I it down, lifting my eyebrows when he nodded me over.
The night was cool, hinting that October was only a week away and I wrapped my arms tight around my waist, shooting for disinterest as I stepped out onto the patio and stood next to his chair, my gaze focused on the lake. “Did you guys win?” I asked him, still watching the waves.
“Yeah,” he said, sounding bored. “But you don’t care about that.” There was a laugh in his voice that I hadn’t heard before and when I glanced at him, I blinked twice, trying not to wonder why he was staring at me.
But, he did have me pegged. I really didn’t care that much about football. “Can’t deny it.”
The patio was a little cluttered, a task I’d handle later in the week, and as I ticked off where the towels and barbeque utensils could be stored, Ransom nudged my leg, bringing my attention back to him.
He pointed to the leg rest on his chair, bending his knee to make room for me. “Stop thinking of shit you’re going to work on out here and sit.”
“Nah, I need to get back home. Early class in the morning.”
He sighed, completely ignored me and pulled me onto the chair with a tug on my wrist. “It’s not even midnight. Sit down and talk to me a little.”
And I did, because he’d asked. I did because even then, a handful of voice lessons into our rehearsals, before that kiss in the studio, Ransom had me. He’d had me with a head nod. He’d had me with a smile that I knew he hadn’t meant. I was pathetic and weak and because I was, I sat next to Ransom and we watched the lake together, not speaking much, not doing anything but keeping each other’s quiet company.
“You sounded good on Wednesday,” he finally said when I thought he might have nodded off. “Your voice is so much stronger now.”
“Thanks.” There wasn’t much to say and no need to disagree. I felt like I was better and I knew it was because of him. But, he didn’t need me to stroke his ego.
“You nervous about the audition?” I nodded, moving my gaze off the water and onto his face as he leaned back against the chair. His features were soft just then, relaxed and I didn’t think I’d ever seen him look more beautiful. There wasn’t any worry tensing up his expression and I’d have given anything to keep him that beautiful, that free of the shit dragging him down. “You want me to go?”
“You don’t have to bother, Ransom,” I said, not wanting to ask more from him than he’d already given.
“Hey.” His fingers on my hand, curling around my thumb felt warm, safe and when my gaze flashed to his, I said a silent prayer that he wouldn’t pull his hand away. “I wanna be there. You need a cheerleader and someone to look at when you sing.” He squeezed my thumb and then leaned back, taking that unanswered prayer with him. “You know, now that you can actually look at me when you sing.”
“Shut up,” I said, rolling my eyes at him.
“I don’t mind, Aly. I really don’t.”
I thought I did. I thought him being there, being what I focused on, would distract me because I needed to sing my kontantman. And he didn’t know, not then, not nearly two months later, Ransom had no idea that when I sang, it wasn’t the lyrics or melody that made me sing my joy. It was him. Only him. He was my joy.
“Yeah,” I’d said, watching the water again, too scared that if I looked at him, he’d see everything I wanted to keep hidden. “Yeah, I want you there.”
Present
He didn’t show.
I stood on that stage, bunching up the side of my dress between my fingers, knowing that I’d leave wrinkles, scanning the spattering of people who sat in the nearly empty auditorium. Ransom wasn’t among them. My heart pounded, my stomach coiled and emptied and I thought I’d be sick, that all of this was too much—my walking away from the family I loved, the hatred and rage in Ransom’s eyes when I took off my mask, the accusation in Leann’s tone when she asked why the hell I’d abandoned Koa. The day hadn’t been a good one for an audition that would determine the next four years of my life.
But I come from a long line of fierce women. My grann had been one, had tried to help me unlearn the bullshit my father wanted me to take as gospel. My mother, Grann had told me, had been fierce as well. She loved hard and fought harder to keep that love inside her when her family flung insults at her, when the world around her promised I would never be anything but an accident she couldn’t fix. Those two fierce women, and the hundreds before them who made up the curve of my hips, the green tint of my eyes and deep pout of my lips, those who’d engendered my stubbornness, my talent, that desperate, abiding need to overcome, all spun through my head as I stepped on that stage. They shouted at me to be bold. They told me to forget my fear and the shame.
He doesn’t matter right now, I heard my Grann whisper. You do.
And so I didn’t look at the audience when I sang. I didn’t do anything but smile at the small table in front of the stage and the men and women who held clipboards in front of them. I sang about wild horses, because I was one. I sang from my belly, because that’s where my passion burned the deepest. I sang with my head held high, with my voice sharp and loud and lulling because that’s what Ransom had taught me. I didn’t sing for him or those judges. I sang for me and the tomorrow I wanted.
For the first time in my life, I sang with a joy that was self-induced.
And I was good.
When the clapping and cheers died down and I’d returned the smiles given to me at that front table, I left the stage feeling good, better than I had in days. I had nailed that audition. I’d nail the dance audition the next week. But reality loomed and I needed to be back at the studio for my first practice with Tommy. It was my hurry and that leftover accomplishment drunk that distracted me when I walked to the parking lot and saw Leann sitting on the hood of her car.