Yadkinville is close to two hours away, and we have to get up early for the drive there.

I'm half asleep as I follow Nathan out the door. Jamie hasn't stirred since Nathan picked him up from his bed to the car. Sometimes he can sleep throughout the night, sometimes he'll be jumping on our bed at an odd hour of the night. I slip socks on his feet and wrap a blanket around him after Nathan secures him in. The blanket was a gift from Whitey at the party our friends threw for us in junior year when they found out we had gotten married.

Most people thought our marriage happened because I was pregnant, especially Brooke. I didn't blame them for thinking so, but the assumption became a nuisance after a while. Love didn't seem a valid enough reason to get married at sixteen-going-on-seventeen. I had to show Brooke my birth control patch just so she'd stop throwing pregnancy jibes at me.

"We have everything?" I whisper over the hood of the car as I carefully close the door to the back seat, trying not to bang it. Jamie freaks out easily from sleep when doors slam shut.

"Yeah. Coffee, meds, everything," Nathan answers, holding up the travel thermos. "Can we please go? I'm freezing."

I slide into the passenger seat. I don't mind being up this early when I'm still hauling euphoric residuals from a phone call yesterday afternoon; I got the job at the camp.

"Wait, did I switch off the iron?"

"I did," he says as he closes his door.

"Did I lock the door?"

"You did."

"What about the windows?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Hales, everything is fine. It's not like this is the first time we're spending the night away from home. We've spent nights away."

"I know. I just don't want anything to happen while we're gone."

He reaches over to squeeze my hand. "Nothing will happen. Ready?"

I bite my lip. "Are you okay driving? Do your legs hurt? Your back? Can you see well? Maybe…maybe I should drive."

I'm making a move to open the door when he stops me, tugging at my hand. He rubs a thumb over my knuckles.

"I'm fine. My back is fine, my legs are fine, and my eyesight is perfect. Everything is okay."

"Are you lying to make me feel better?"

He sighs. "No. I wouldn't lie about this or get behind the wheel when we…"

He turns slightly to the back seat. "I promise, I'm all right. Now, buckle up."

We have not travelled far when I squirm in my seat. If I don't say something soon, this could be disastrous.

"I need a bathroom," I blurt while peeking out of one eye.

He takes a quick glance at me and then his eyes are back on the dark road. "We're not even close to the city limits. Weren't you the one asking me whether I needed to use the bathroom a few minutes ago?"

"Sorry! I didn't need to but I gotta go now." I shake in my seat to emphasize. "Please."

"Hales, that was only," he checks the dashboard, "eight minutes ago."

"Please, Nathan? I really, really need to go. There's a gas station close by. And we need gas, anyway."

He shakes his head at me. "This takes me back to the length of time it takes you to get ready for a night of bowling. A bowling alley is not a place to make a fashion statement, Haley."

"You say it like I go in high heels."

"Once you did."

"They were kitten heels. I needed to break them in."

"I don't think they looked like kittens, Hales."

I giggle so hard that I worry I might stain my jeans. "Could you please floor it?"

"I think we might have an expired diaper somewhere in the car."

"Please stop making me laugh!"

When we get to the gas station, I run madly to the bathroom, almost tripping over my feet to get there.

Somewhere between Hillsborough and Efland, I fall asleep. The next time I come around, Nathan is standing over me in the open passenger door, his hand on my shoulder shaking me awake.

"We're here."

I take a sleepy glance around. Daylight has broken, the sun looks like it's going to burn hot already, and we're in a parking lot. "Ville Villas" says a yellow and blue sign. It's a standard motel, and there is nothing villa-like about the design. From the amount of cars in the lot, I'm glad that I'd called ahead to book a room.

Jamie is still asleep. Long car rides lull him to a deep sleep. When we travel to Tree Hill, he can sleep up to noon the following day.

I unbuckle, stepping out of the car to stretch my stiff legs. Nathan is removing our bags from the trunk, and I lean on the car, letting the already-warm sun hit my face.

When I look at my cell phone, it's only seven o'clock. We're performing in the late evening and practice starts at two. Until then, we can catch a few winks.

"I'll check us in," I tell him, reaching for my purse from the floor mat.

Back at the car, Nathan's just closing the back seat door, Jamie in his arms.

"Eager to sleep?" I ask him.

"You have no idea. I feel like the walking dead."

I grab the three light duffle bags and he carries Jamie. Up a staircase and down a quiet corridor that's littered with a few discarded plastic bags. The corner room with no view is a double with two full-size beds, a kitchenette, a dinette table, two armchairs, a flat-screen TV and an in-room phone. Cool air flows from the ceiling, and the beige walls are spotted with old-fashioned and faded art.

The beds are big enough, covered with floral-print bedspreads that motels have been known for. The kitchenette has a mini fridge, microwave, and basic tableware on the small countertop. It's not the most appealing room, but it looks clean; it's sufficient for a one-night stay, and if we had to be here longer, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. Except for the bill.

I dump the bags on the floor and lock the door behind me. "Not bad."

"Good choice," Nathan says, moving to the closest bed.

He places Jamie in the middle of the bed, frees him of the socks and pulls carefully at the blanket from under him.

"Manager told me that I was lucky to have made a reservation because the whole place is booked up for the festival. The room comes with a complimentary breakfast, by the way."

"They should feed us when we paid that much for one night."

"I told them we'd have that tomorrow. You want anything to eat?" I ask him as he disappears into the bathroom.

"No. I'm not hungry."

I'm folding up the blanket when he steps back into the room in only his pyjama pants. He has gained muscle, and some, since he was discharged from hospital.

"I wonder why your son likes being naked."

He laughs, pulling at the drawstring of the pants. "I'm gonna crash. You?"

I'd told him to wake me up when we got halfway so that I could drive but he didn't. He must be exhausted. He does look exhausted.

"In a little bit. I need to unpack first."

He stretches himself out next to Jamie. "Unpack what? We'll only be here for a day."

"But we should settle in."

"You just don't like living out of a suitcase. Does it have something to do with the tour?"

It's uncanny how he knows me.

"Maybe."

I unzip Jamie's bag first, removing his toothbrush and bubblegum toothpaste, dropping them into our toothbrush holder. I wash the thermos in the small sink, put away the food in the mini fridge and store our clothes in the dresser drawers.

After brushing my teeth and changing into my pyjamas, I crawl under the covers. This is not my bed, my pillow, my comforter. I spent a fair share of time in some hotel rooms during the tour, and I'd find myself considering every feature about the beddings that would keep me up; everything felt scratchy, sterile, thin and weird. No doubt it will take me some time to fall asleep in this foreign setting, too.

When I wake up, there's a rather large orange cartoon character in my hazy view. Jamie's Tigger pyjamas.

"Mommy. Mommy, I'm hungry."

I yawn behind my hand, my eyes heavy with sleep. "You're hungry?"

I see him nod through the narrow slits of my eyes.

"My stomach yelled."

He takes my hand and places it on his belly. "Can you feel?"

I give his soft belly a tickle and he giggles.

"Mama!"

"But I wanted to feel your stomach yelling."

I tickle him again. He shrieks, his leg poking Nathan's thigh.

"Come on, let's get your tummy to sleep before you wake your dad. Cereal okay?"

I roll out of bed, rubbing at my eyes as I walk to the kitchenette.

"Yes."

The chairs are a bit too high for him to climb so I lift him up. "Are you excited about today?"

"I wanna see the parade."

He's been really eager about it since I told him there would be one.

"Parades are always exciting."

"Were you in a parade, Mama?"

"Once. I loved watching them more than being in one."

My mom had a crazy idea one year to nominate me as Parade Princess, and lucky for me, I didn't win. I was eight, an odd crossbreed of tomboy and girly-girl, and that taffeta made me itch. I may have adored my teddy bear Mr. Waffles, marrying him with Tay's one-eyed Barbies over and over again, but winning that title would have been embarrassing. I'd never have heard the end of it from the River Court guys. Up to today, they still remind me of that glitzy yellow dress.

From the small stack of dinnerware, I take out a bowl and spoon, wash and dry them. I pour out the cereal and milk, then chop up a banana on top.

"You want to eat in front of the TV?"

He smiles widely, sliding off the chair. "Can I?"

"Why not? Let's pretend it's Saturday."

"It's not Saturday?"

"It's Tuesday."

I place a plump cushion from one of the armchairs on the floor and he drops down on it.

"When is Saturday?"

"The day after the day after the day after tomorrow."

He giggles as I pass him the bowl. "You're funny, Mama."

I kiss his cheek and then press the remote buttons until I tune in to a cartoon. "I'll be right back. Don't open the door for anyone."

He nods absentmindedly as he stuffs a spoonful into his mouth. Checking the time, it's half past ten. I grab a change of clothes and take a quick shower, semi-meditating the sleep out of my body. When I'm done, Jamie's bowl is empty and he's lying on his stomach, his face framed between his fists, elbows supporting him.

"Still hungry?" I ask, taking the bowl from him.

He shakes his head, laughing at the screen.

I use the microwave to heat some water for coffee. I do love a thick brew, but I can do with instant for today.

"Can we go to the parade?" Jamie asks, rolling onto his back.

"Bath first."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. The parade doesn't start until later."

He gets up from the floor, looking at me in protest and defiance. "But I had a bath yesterday."

This is my biggest challenge yet with Jamie, teaching him that bathing is not an option. I need him to understand that before he's a teenager and he's going days without coming into contact with water. I don't understand why he feels this way; it can't be a fear of water because he loves swimming.

"That was yesterday's bath. You need one for today." I reach my hand out for his but he runs to the bed. "Come on."

"I don't want to."

I motion him over. "You have to. You'll be too tired later to take one."

"I don't want a bath."

"Jamie…"

He jumps up and down on the bed, making the bed squeak. "Daddy, wake up. Tell Mommy I taked a bath yesterday!"

Nathan mumbles incoherently.

"See? Daddy says I don't have to."

He's lying to my face, but he looks so cute in all his defiance and seriousness, hair sticking out in different directions.

"Don't you want to be a man anymore?" I ask him. "Men learn how to take care of themselves. Men take baths and showers, and they don't go out into the world without cleaning up and looking presentable."

The M-word for Jamie can be the ultimate deciding factor; being around so many men has him wanting to emulate them, and I have used it to my advantage a time or ten.

"I do! I do!"

"Bathing is part of being a man." I pinch my nose. "No one likes to hang around stinky pants little boys with cooties."

He giggles and then slides off the bed. "I don't have cooties!"

"Let's keep it that way."

The festival is being held on the grounds of a large stable. It's an ideal Fourth of July, with the sun high and a mob present that's dispersed in the walkways, booths and rides.

After the parade, we walk around for about an hour, taking Jamie on most of the rides. He wants to ride the Ferris wheel but he's too young for it. He has Nathan's fearless spirit; I wouldn't want to be up there with it looking so menacing and high up.

There's no sign of Lucas or Peyton yet, but they'd called earlier saying that they were running late because of traffic on the highway.

"I'll look for you before we go up on stage."

It's already time for final rehearsals. I'm getting a titanic rush of adrenaline and nervousness, wondering how our performance will go.

"Jame and I are just going to overindulge on hotdogs," Nathan says, leaning over and kissing my cheek.

"What's overdulge?"

"Too much of something that can lead to a bad thing."

"Like when I watch TV and I sleep and you gotta carry me?"

"No, like eating too many pancakes and then throwing up."

"Like...like when I eat too much nuggets and my chest hurts?"

"Just like that. Say bye to your mom."

He waves a hand in front of my face. "Bye, Mama. We're going to overdulge."

I take his hand and kiss his palm loudly. "Have fun, okay? And don't overindulge on anything."

"Even cotton candy?"

"Especially cotton candy."

"And Popsicles?"

"No."

"Creamsicles?"

"Nope. But you can overindulge on fruits."

He makes a face. "I'm not going to have fun with that."

I laugh. "You could start with another ride on the merry-go-round."

Nathan bends over slightly to put Jamie down. "You want to walk there?"

He clings onto Nathan's neck, his legs tightening around Nathan's waist. "No! I like it up here. I can see lots."

"Does your back hurt?" I ask him.

He shakes his head. "No. This little monkey is a lightweight. You want to make this a piggyback ride?"

"Really?"

I kiss them both again before going in search of the performers' dressing rooms. I take a wrong turn, but I eventually find my way to the right place. The stables' management offices have been cleared out to give performers rooms to change.

I've been waiting alone in our assigned dressing room for the last ten minutes. To keep myself busy, I bundled up stray pieces of straw trying to create miniature scarecrows. I wouldn't even scare an ant. There's chaos all around with laughter, conversations and playing instruments, and even though I can't see it all from where I am, the energetic buzz is firing me up.

"Haley."

I twist around in my seat. Wes and Susie.

"Hi."

"We got lost," Susie says as she places her cello case on the table. "We were given such awful directions that we ended up in some weird part of the stables that stunk like wet dog and rotten cheese."

I laugh at the expression on Wes' face. "I didn't get that far but I did end up barging into a clown's changing room."

They were makeup-free but they had on their baggy clothes and brightly coloured wigs. I shudder like to forget about it.

"Not a fan?" she asks me as she takes the seat next to me.

"Terrified of them. You?"

She pulls back her orange curls, tying her hair in a ponytail. With the sunlight in the room, it creates a mesmerizing golden halo around her face.

"I'm absolutely terrified of dolphins, though."

"Good thing we're not in Florida," Wes says.

She grimaces. "We visit my grandparents there a couple of times a year and when everyone is going to the aquarium, I hit the conservatoire of music. The first time I encountered a dolphin, I was nine and I screamed so loudly that security had to be called."

"I peed my pants when I was six after I followed my brothers to the roof of our house," Wes says. "I refused to come down until my dad climbed up, blindfolded me and got me down."

"What?"

He shrugs. "I couldn't move, I was shaking and screaming. Whenever I'm travelling and passing over a bridge, I actually lose feeling in my legs."

"Are you thinking of going on the Ferris wheel?" Susie asks him.

He gives her a fixed stare. "Don't tempt me to drive you down to Florida."

My phone then cheeps. Lucas. I've been looking forward to seeing them since we sorted out the plans.

"Hey, Luke."

"Hi. Are you at the motel?"

"Nope. Still stuck in traffic?"

"We're already here. Where are you?"

"Rehearsals. But you can call Nathan. Last I heard he was taking Jamie to the carousel."

"Okay. I have a favour to ask. Can we crash with you guys tonight? We couldn't find any rooms. Three motels, and all of them were full. We'll take the floor if that's the only space available."

There was a reason that I booked a double room, even if I didn't know it then. I hope Nathan finds it pleasant to have a sleepover with his brother.

"No need to sleep on the floor. There's an extra bed."

The other bed was for Jamie, but we all ended up crashing in the same bed this morning, anyway. Luke and Peyton will get a fresh one.

"Cool. I wasn't expecting a bed, but that's cool. Thanks."

In the background, I hear Peyton's voice asking him what I'm saying. He relays the message, and in a second, she's on the phone.

"Hey, foxy! You have a free bed?"

I wouldn't have thought that I'd feel closer to Peyton than to Luke. Luke's school is farther away, and Peyton and I meet at least once a month, on top of talking on the phone and on video. She's a girl I'd do anything for, because she'd do – and has done – anything for me.

"All yours, blondie. I've missed you that much."

"I've missed ya, too. We should ditch the guys tonight and go paint the town red. Just the two of us."

"I think I could be on board with that."

At the last second, I chuckle softly. She catches on instantly. "You're really not going to cut loose, are you? Not cool, Mrs. Scott."

"I will leave the cutting loose to you and Brooke. I got the pictures you sent. Did you get mine?"

We natter and chuckle back and forth until I see Alec, Emma and Miller walking in while struggling with their instruments.

"Um, I have to go rehearse something."

"Get to it. I don't want you embarrassing yourself up there."

"I love you, too, Peyton," I laugh, then click off.

I turn to the new arrivals as they set up their instruments. With the fixtures for Miller's drums that they're carrying, I don't blame them for looking beat. The sun and humidity outside couldn't have helped.

"Look who's here," Wes says as we help reach for the fittings before they clatter to the floor. "Did you also get lost?"

Emma straightens and whacks a punch on Miller's arm. Her hair is scraped back in a ponytail, exploding into a black Afro-like puff. "This idiot was hitting on a dancer and he left us to carry his kit while he did."

"Jealous much, Ems?"

"Have you seen my boyfriend?"

"That scrawny kid?"

"That scrawny kid says we need to get started," Alec says.

He seems agitated. It must be the pressure of performing.

"First gigs can be intimidating and harsh, and I want us to be better than perfect."

I think I finally understood what intimidating and harsh meant when Alec was done with us, when he was satisfied with our last run-through.

They're underneath the huge tree as Nathan had told me, seated on the large picnic blanket we brought. A great spot that has the raised stage in direct sight, neither too far nor too near.

They're easy to spot, especially Jamie with his bright blue t-shirt. Nathan is leaning against the tree with Jamie beside him, and Peyton and Luke are cross-legged, a plate of half-eaten hotdogs between them.

I kick off my shoes and lower myself next to Nathan, sweeping my lips across his. Luke and Peyton mumble their greetings around chews, and seeing them eat makes my stomach grumble. I can't stuff myself or else I won't be able to sing. It's a delicate balance of enough blood sugar to give you energy, and enough to give your stomach room for breathing when belting out a high or long note. No singer wants to be a sluggish, panting mess behind a microphone.

"And what have you been doing?" I ask Jamie as I pick him up and snuggle him on my lap.

"Having fun."

The smudge on his cheek gets my attention. "What is this? What did you eat?"

"Daddy got me a kaboob."

Everyone laughs, and Nathan clarifies, "Kebab."

I touch my thumb to my tongue then to his cheek, rubbing away the dark blotch.

"That's a bit nasty," Lucas grimaces.

"Don't forget he came out of me."

"I think I just lost my appetite."

"Nice. Can I have your hotdog then?"

"Get your own. Don't you have wet wipes for such things?"

"Somewhere. This is easier. Don't act like you've never seen your mom do it for Lucy. There. All clean." I reach my thumb out for Lucas' cheek. "Your turn."

"Don't you dare, Haley James."

"Scott. How many times do I have to remind you? It's been four years."

"You'll always be Haley James."

"Mama says her name is Haley James Scott."

"That's right, honey," I smirk triumphantly at Luke.

He squints, his mouth twitching. That hotdog has me twitching.

"I need to eat something before I go on stage."

"I'll get it."

"Where's Daddy going?"

I think sometimes he harbours the fear that Nathan will set off and fall into another coma. "He's going to get me some food. My stomach is yelling."

He turns in my lap. "Can I feel it?"

He places his hand on my belly. It growls.

"What's it saying?" he giggles.

"Feeeed meeee," I drawl like a zombie.

He giggles again, wriggling lower and resting his ear on my tummy. "It's making funny noises. Like…like when you make juice for me in the machine."

He means the blender.

"That loud?"

"Uh-huh."

Luke makes a point of dramatically finishing his meal in front of me. I swear that the next time we have a game night, I will crush him.

Nathan returns with a plate of shish kebabs, a burger and some fries. As much as I long for the latter two, I can't overeat.

"Thank you so much," I tell him, already dragging off a piece of lamb from the skewer.

Jamie's ear remains pressed to my stomach. "I can't hear your belly yelling anymore. Why?"

"Because I'm feeding it like it wanted. You want a kebab?"

He takes a spit from the plate, and curls up with Nathan.

"Like I showed you, Jame," Nathan says.

Jamie picks off the piece at the edge and pops it into his mouth. He does the same for the pepper. He's eating it like a proper little guy, unlike me who is almost choking on the stick that's poking at my tonsils. Two hours of nonstop practice would turn anyone into an ogre.

"Hales, that was fast. Jamie's not even done with his," Peyton says.

To my surprise, there are only two skewers left. "Jamie helped."

"He had one. You, four."

"You've never been around a hungry Haley?" Nathan asks.

"Does her nine-month gluttony count?"

I pretend to look hurt as I chuck a kebab spit at her. "Hey! That was legitimate eating, not gluttony."

Peyton makes a gagging face. "She'd drag us to the mall and order food from different stands and then eat them together. Once, she poured coleslaw and spicy red beans on a bacon pizza, and then downed it with a mixture of yoghurt and milkshake. She did that with three slices. Three. Disgusting. I gotta tell you that I was mortified to be seen eating with you sometimes."

When I think about it now, it was actually pretty gross. I had the weirdest food combination cravings; I needed sweet, sour and spicy at the same time.

Nathan is laughing. "Do you have pictures?"

"Fortunately, no," she answers. "Your wife was in a state, Nate."

"She'd wake me up at two in the morning to get her Oreos and pickles," Nathan says. "Then she'd scrape off the cream and replace it with a pickle slice. After that, I had trouble eating Oreos for some time."

He shakes his head wistfully while rubbing Jamie's hair. I remember those nights of going through my emergency stash, which Nathan had specifically put away for such moments, and then jolting him awake late in the night begging for more.

"And sometimes she'd mix olives, pickles and pieces of bacon with mac 'n cheese and ask for a second helping."

They all cry out in disgust.

I smack my greasy lips. "Why are you talking about me like I'm not here?"

"You were off in your own world sating your hunger," Nathan says. "Feeling better now?"

He never gave me grief about my eating habits when I was pregnant, constantly making me laugh whenever I picked out random ingredients for the perfect meal.

"Much. And those disgusting combinations gave us this handsome little guy."

I wipe my hands on a napkin and do the same for Jamie and his oily mouth. He's starting to look sleepy.

"You're a monster when you're hungry," Lucas says, then turns to Peyton. "If you don't attend to her munchies, she'll turn mean."

"That happened once. Twice. Okay, a couple of times. But you know not to get on my case when I'm starving now, don't you, Luke?"

"Trust me, I do. You almost broke my nose with a basketball, Hales. How you can have perfect aim when you're hungry yet suck when you're not is beyond me."

"Adrenaline, my friend. Your brother lived it for nine months."

Nathan and Peyton are laughing. I think I completely scared him on some days with my roller-coaster emotions.

To Peyton I say, "You're one to gang up on me. You almost took out a freshman for the last sandwich in the cafeteria."

"I didn't! And it wasn't because I was hungry. He stepped on me and I wasn't having the best day. PMS."

"Ugh," Nathan and Lucas groan.

Peyton and I roll our eyes at them. They are such men, and it wouldn't surprise me if Lucas is devoted to using 'monthly visitor' as much as Nathan is.

"I saw ants in a glass house, Mommy," Jamie mumbles, eyes drooping sleepily. "Wanna hear?"

I smooth a hand over his silky hair, then lean over and nuzzle tiny kisses on the side of his face. "Tell me when you wake up. Sleep, baby. You've had a big day."

He drowsily smiles at me, turning his face into Nathan's shirt. He naps through some of the live entertainment, which includes mimes, a clown act that has me tense throughout and at which I'm mocked for, a short play and several dance routines. It's approaching sundown when they announce the magic troupe that will be on stage before us. That's my cue to leave.

"Are you nervous?" Nathan asks softly, rubbing my thigh.

I take a long pull from my bottle of water. "I'm afraid I'm going to throw up."

"No way. You're too hardcore for that."

That makes me laugh. "I'll never get used to these massive butterflies. They compel me to hide under a desk and sing the finale to Les Misérables over and over again until I calm down."

"Babe, you've played in front of this many people before."

He kisses me, not giving me a chance to formulate an answer, and says, "It's okay to be nervous. I still do before the whistle. But nervous isn't afraid, is it?"

I shake my head. "I like hearing your voice calming me down more than my own."

He chuckles and gives a quick brush of a kiss on my cheek. "I know you're going to do great. More than great, and I'll be right here cheering for you."

I'm feeling braver as I get to my feet, remove my jacket and straighten my clothes. I chose dark-blue jeans, heels and a white V-neck top that's not flashy or frumpy. It's just a decent, understated outfit for a family event.

"You look pretty, Mama."

I lean down to kiss his forehead. "Thank you. You can take another nap if you want to."

"I wanna hear you sing. Do I gotta wear my muffs? Daddy said I don't have to."

"No earmuffs today. I'll see you later, okay?"

I kiss his cheek, do the same for Nathan. Peyton and Luke both give me high fives for luck.

I head through the crowd in a bit of a hurry. There's less foot traffic as I approach the back of the stage, and everyone who passes me is in a black t-shirt with "crew" written in red, white and blue on the front, and they're either on the phone, have a clipboard or a headset. In my rush as I round the corner towards the hectic assemblage of performers, I bump hard into someone. I don't know whether he's coming from the backstage area or the station reserved for equipment and generators.

"Sorry, are you okay?" I ask him, my palms up in apology.

"I'm okay. Are you?"

The voice is male and deep, as if he has a cold. With dusk and no direct light around here, it's hard to see his face, the bill of his baseball cap hiding the lower half of his face.

"Yeah."

He quickly disappears around the curve at my response, back towards the audience. I'm standing there wondering if I know him when Miller barrels past, stops, grabs my wrist and drags me along with him. I dismiss the niggling feeling about the man, clearing my mind for the last-minute preparations.

"Please welcome to the stage…Haley's Comet!"

It's strange to hear my name attached to a band. With a grateful nod at the emcee, I take the microphone from him, reattaching it to the pole. I look back at the others, and seeing everyone settling into their places, I turn to the crowd to give them some more time.

"Hello, Yadkinville!"

As the yells rise, I'm feeling more comfortable, enough to tell myself that I can perform in front of such a multitude in my sleep. Somewhere in the crowd are the people I care about and they are rooting for us.

"Thank you for allowing us to entertain you. You have a lovely town, this is such an incredible event, and I hope our performance will start the night on a high note. Literally."

There's laughter all around and I look over my shoulder, to see that everyone is set. "Okay, we're ready up here. Enjoy the music, dance when your bones tell you to, and happy Independence Day!"

I turn to Alec as he plays the first notes. My voice starts low, like every time we've gone through the set, the instruments backing me up. One after another, they come in powerfully until we're fusing from one end of the stage to the other, instrument to instrument, lead to background vocals.

Cover after original in our line-up comes alive, the reception from the crowd heightening the energy; I can feel it with Miller pounding the drums, Alec and Wes standing like in duel while bopping their heads with the strokes of their guitars, Susie swaying behind her cello, and Emma's fingers pounding the keys of the baby grand. I haven't had this much fun performing since the last time I took the stage at Tric. It's certainly a plus point that these people I'm on stage with are not strangers contracted by a record label to do a twenty-city tour; they're my friends.

We're all spotting sweat on our foreheads as we wind down to the last track. The set list was chosen appropriately, and this last song has a soul to close the curtain on our show.

It's Alec's, a song that makes me think of someone floundering in grief and heartbreak as they wait for headlights in the dark, a song about a thousand promises made, aloneness, and deafening silences. There's longing and pain in the words, pain after the death of someone he'd known since childhood in a hit-and-run. He said that some of it was composed in anger and he never bothered to change the lyrics because of the truth that was in them.

A calm and peacefulness flows through the multitude, cell phones are raised, and every band member carries every inflection beautifully. It's a great feeling to see people respond to a song like it was meant to be received. I'll never get tired of it.

When we come off the stage, we're like wide-eyed kids with a sugar rush in a candy store. The deafening applause as we exited is fading, but we look incredulous from it.

"That was amazing!" Emma screams, jumping on her feet. "Amazing, amazing, amazing!"

She leaps into Alec's arms, kissing him about a hundred times. Miller doesn't gripe like he normally would, and Alec blushes. Everyone's high on adrenaline.

Susie, damp face alight, fans herself with her hand. "I think I need to sit down! That was the coolest thing I've ever experienced!"

"Holy crap!" Wes says with a laugh.

Miller goes with, "This will definitely get me laid."

I laugh, the exhilarating rush of a successful performance flowing through me and leading me unable to join in the acclaim. This was well worth Alec's brutal dummy run this afternoon.

"Yo."

A man with one of the black "crew" t-shirts comes up to us, jerking a hand over his shoulder and saying, "Some people want to talk to you over there."

"You who?" Alec asks.

"You the band, man. Duh."

After curious glances are passed around our small circle, we walk swiftly away from the backstage. Paces out into the main pavilion, we are flocked by people who want to chat.

"Freaking fans," Susie breathes.

"I love you guys! Can I take a picture?"

"Do you sell your music?"

"I own a club in Charlotte…"

"Miller, can I have your autograph?"

"How did you meet?"

"Your face is familiar. Are you Haley James?"

Miller jabs me in the ribs with his elbow, faintly tipping his chin ahead to a group of college-aged girls eyeing him. "I am going to thoroughly enjoy myself tonight."

I'm eager to return to my family as we chat with the fans. It astounds me when two teenage girls call me by name, like every time someone says that they recognize me from the tour.

A time later when the cluster has thinned out, save for a couple of girls, we huddle again to say goodbye, hugs going all around. The next time we meet will be in the fall. Alec has a wide grin as he tells us about the band getting three offers to be regular club performers. I hope it means different clubs on different nights.

On my way back to the tree, I branch off to the bathroom to clean up, take off my dangling earrings and shake out my loosely-held hair. I don't doubt that Peyton will want a night out in the town, but I'm tired and I want nothing more than to go to bed. They must be curious about what's taking me so long, but not concerned enough to come looking for me.

A small band has taken over the stage, playing upbeat instrumental music that has people dancing. I wonder if Nathan would indulge me easily if I asked him for a dance.

Ducking quickly past cliques of people standing in the side-lines, I catch a glimpse of a familiar face standing alone at the edge of the crowd. After a few steps forward, I turn back when the sudden realization hits me of whose face it belongs to.

"What are you doing here?"

I'd be lying if I said that I don't question whether he was the man I ran into earlier. With him here, how slim is the possibility that the familiarity I felt then was because it was Sam?

"Haley. Ciao," he greets me like he's surprised to run into me. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"What the hell are you doing here, Sam?" I repeat forcefully.

He raises the bottle of beer to his lips, gaze fixed on me. "I'm celebrating independence just like you."

It deeply disturbs me that he's in the same town as I am, when the band did no marketing or advertising to our inclusion in the festival. I'm not trusting in coincidences anymore when it comes to this man.

"You have a beautiful, beautiful voice."

I move in time when I see his hand reaching for my face. There's something seriously wrong with this guy beyond disrespecting boundaries.

"I like to think that there was a message for me somewhere in those songs," he says, flashing me a smile, eyes pointed to my chest.

It takes my control not to growl at him like a provoked dog. "You read too much into things, Sam. I'm not into you, I'm not sending you messages, and right now, the only thing I feel for you is distaste."

"Does your husband know about us?"

That makes my fist clench. I'm looking at him, anger boiling through me, questioning his sanity and his hold on reality. A pit forms in my stomach when he suddenly steps forward, aggressively intruding on my space.

"You invited Kyle to Jamie's party."

I retreat, my back jouncing against the person behind me. "Sorry about that."

I purposely take a step sideways to create distance but Sam moves in step with me. "I don't see why your son should be treated like an outcast when he has nothing to do with your actions. His mother can drop him off—"

"She's not going to be around at the time," he smiles smugly.

I grit my teeth. I hate that he's acting chummy, as if he knows me and knows Nathan. "Drop him off and leave. Kyle is welcome, but you're not. I swear Nathan will kick your teeth in if you stick around."

If he's acting like this with no invitation, I can't imagine what he'd do if I were to invite him to stay at Jamie's birthday party.

"Can he do that with a broken spine?"

I hate that he's belittling my husband all over again like at Kyle's party. I turn to walk away but he grabs me by the elbow.

"Let me go."

For the second time in as many minutes, he's suddenly in my space, breathing in my ear extraordinarily inappropriately, "You looked magnificent up there. I can't wait for a private performance."

And then he releases me. I find myself wanting to rush after him and flatten him like a bulldozer. I stand there for a few moments trying to calm my angry, puzzled and spooked nerves, trying to forget the leers and the eerie grins he was giving me.

I have had some testing lessons of love since I fell for Nathan. One of them was the murky "grey area" of male-female friendships. It was something I never had to worry about with Luke and our friends from the River Court. We were all friends, no one crossed a line, and there were no weird, lingering feelings of attraction; they were my guy friends who were simply friends.

Becoming a girlfriend and a wife opened my eyes to that grey area, and after Chris Keller, I don't want any man to ever misinterpret the basics of a friendship or a working relationship for something more. Since Chris, I understood that there should never be confusion, on my part or a man's, on who is what in an acquaintanceship or friendship. I don't care whether they think I'm a cold, standoffish bitch, but in my experience, the unclear grey areas can be very problematic. I thought I was in the clear, until Sam. How a greeting has reached a point where I'm scared stiff is frightening.

For the better part of five minutes, I'm silently and simultaneously freaking out and meditating away the run-in with Sam. I badly want to tell Nathan about it, but not in front of Peyton and Lucas.

I'm still shaken up from the encounter with Sam when I'm nearing the tree. I don't know how I managed to reach here without losing my way in the crowd.

Nathan spots me first, and he walks over towards me with a big, proud grin. "How awesome was my girl!"

He holds my face in his hands, his lips landing on mine in a sweet kiss. "That was so incredible, Hales. I'm really glad I got to be here for this because I would have hated to miss it."

He's proud of me, he's here with me, and that carries my smile briefly. "Thanks, baby."

"Are you okay?"

Keeping his eyes on mine, he rubs my cheek gently with his knuckles. The feel of his fingers on my skin is calming me.

I rub my arms like I'm cold. "No. Not really."

"What happened? What's wrong?"

Before my mind can convince me that I shouldn't tell Nathan, I say, "I saw Sam. He was here. He…"

My voice drifts off. Nathan drags in a sharp breath, a cold expression falling over him. I ramble through a recap of the brief exchange, and as I go through it again, it makes less sense to me why Sam would be behaving like this.

"What the hell?" Nathan whispers under his breath when I'm finished. "That bastard. That dirty bastard."

As he processes the information, the hints of aggravation are showing more clearly. He's unmistakably enraged; his jaws tighten, his eyes flicker around, and he looks ready to confront Sam.

"Don't bother. He's probably gone by now," I reason.

I didn't know what to really make of him, but now I'm certain that he's crazy.

"Did he hurt you or threaten you?" he asks, his gaze stuck on surveying the area like Sam may not have left after all.

"No."

He studies me for a moment. "Him showing up here and walking up to you is a threat in itself. I'm going to buy you pepper spray for the next time that creep says anything remotely untoward to you."

I don't mention that I have a bottle of pepper spray in my purse.

"I want you to be careful. I don't want him to hurt you."

It gives me a queasy feeling. I wouldn't put it past Sam to hulk in the shadows when this has set off all kinds of alarms for me. I am sufficiently alert.

"I will be," I reply truthfully.

He pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around him, closing my eyes as I try to forget what just happened. My solace, my safety.

I lift my head, tiptoeing to kiss him softly. "Can we enjoy the rest of the holiday with our friends? Put this aside for later?"

He doesn't say anything, maintaining the icy expression, jaws clamped shut.

"For Jamie's sake, let's finish the day the right way."

I'm persuading myself of this in as much as I am him. I need the effects of Sam's intrusion to wear off, and being surrounded by family will ease some of it away.

"Alright," he says reluctantly.

"Alright," I agree.

Peyton and Jamie, barefoot, are dancing on the blanket, Lucas watching them with a smile on his face and a gleam in his eye. I've seen that look before when she's with Jamie, and when I asked him about it, he said that he was deliberating about her making a good mother.

Jamie mirrors her jerks, flails and wiggles, the duo receiving the amused attention of a few onlookers. When he sees me approaching, he doesn't stop dancing, waving me over to join them.

"Your band's incredible!" Peyton says brightly over the buzz of music and conversations, affectionately kissing my cheek. "So, when does the album come out?"

I laugh, and touch my fist to Luke's extended one. It feels good to work off my high heels, better to spin Jamie around as he dances his little butt off.

With friendly smiles, our closest neighbours to the left of the tree come up to me and praise the performance. When they're gone, Peyton baits me about being a household name. I bite, pinching her arm hard enough for her to shriek.

I've calmed down a bit when we drop on the blanket at the announcement of the fireworks show. Yet I still find myself looking around the grounds like Sam will be peeking out from behind someone or something.

Nathan wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer and further comforting me from the creeping anxiety. I glance up at him, meeting concern in his eyes and a loose furrow in his brow.

I nod faintly, peck his lips softly, all to convey that I'm all right. For now.

"Mama, look!"

Jamie stands, squeezing between us, his arms around Nathan's neck, faces pressed together cheek to cheek. "Fireworks!"

I take out my phone and capture shot after shot of the expressions of awe on Jamie's face every time the ruptures of colour light up the star-splattered sky. Priceless.