Chapter Four
"I hate rehearsal."
I groaned, walking beside Carey through the door which led to the studio. Usually, he came here with his mother, but today she would be arriving directly from Annie's recording session. "Carey, you say that every day."
"Every day, I still hate it."
I didn't really mind him saying so, day after day. I was tired, too. We didn't even have a show tonight, but Irene insisted. Irene's my best friend in the world, but honestly, sometimes I wish she'd snap out of her it's-all-business role and give us all a break. We knew the songs. Carey understood that as well as I did because he had been with the band the longest. After "Thinkin' About Tomorrow" was a total flop, Irene decided that I better return to my old style of rock-pop, only with more angst—as opposed to my recent all-pop phase. This needed a whole new band, as well. It was decided that Annie could use "Thinkin' About Tomorrow" for her still-in-production album. She would be singing "What You Do" and "One In A Million" as well. It had reached the point of ridicule. I was the guinea pig. Songs that didn't work for me were sent down to Annie, like I was a pile of hand-me-down clothes being passed from the elder sibling to the younger one.
And was it fair? Of course it wasn't fair. What kind of question is that? Fairness is meaningless now. I wrote a song revealing my most innermost thoughts, and gave it to Irene for approval. And then? She gives it to some "world-renowned" professional songwriter she hired, who "fixes" it by making it a million more times angst-y and depressing. Suddenly, I'm no longer Molly Phillips, singer-songwriter. I'm Molly Phillips, singer and co-songwriter. It's ironic—I always thought that co-songwriters worked together. For me, it's an uphill battle—I'm working against them.
Does anyone really care what I think anymore? Maybe it's all about the money now. Maybe it always was. Maybe I thought Irene was one of my best friends, but she never was. Maybe her friendliness all these years was all an act, so that she wouldn't lose me when my music finally reached an audience, like it had now. Maybe I have to face the fact that without my noticing, my entire life slid away from me and out of my grasp. Fi was back, but Annie was still here. My music career was booming, but greed and the constant yearning for success had obliterated its original purpose: actually loving what I do. Now, my music career was just that, a career. A career that I hated just like every other American from San Francisco to Boston.
"Molly?"
I glanced up at Carey's inquiring eyes. Had I drifted off, again? Why did this keep happening to me? I looked around the room, at all my band mates. They were packing up! Had I spaced out all during the session? Was that even possible, to be singing without even being conscious of it? "Why is everyone leaving?" I asked.
"My mom just called. She had to cancel rehearsal today because she got caught up with Annie."
I felt like I was about to cry. "I can't handle this…" I murmured. I hadn't meant to speak my thoughts aloud, and I hoped that Carey hadn't heard me.
He had. With a sympathetic smile he said, "Look on the bright side. We get the day off!"
I sighed. Pull yourself together, a voice inside me said. It's just one canceled session. You don't even like rehearsal! Carey stood waiting for me as I scooped up my pocketbook, since I would be driving him home. By now, everyone else in the band was gone, without so much of a goodbye. They were total strangers.
"Okay," I said almost triumphantly, as I walked toward the door.
"Wait!" Carey interrupted. "Isn't that your cell phone ringing?"
I stopped and listened closely. He was right, of course. I unzipped my pocketbook and reached for my cell, pulling out the antenna and holding it to my ear. "Hello?"
"Molly! How are you?" came a distant, but familiar voice on the other end of the line.
"Lisa?"
"How's Annie?" she asked. It was definitely Lisa. For maybe the first time all week, my heart skipped a beat. Maybe this was it. She had said that Annie would be staying just for the school year. Maybe now Lisa was calling to tell me that she and Tobias would be flying back to the States in a just a few days, to take away their darling daughter, and maybe, just maybe, life would no longer be so stressful with her gone.
"Annie's… great," I said slowly. "But, I mean, she could be better. She really misses you both."
"Oh, we miss her too!" Lisa assured me. "She's the reason I'm calling. Remember how we agreed that this was only temporary, just for the school year?"
"Yes," I replied, trying my best to contain my excitement.
"Well, I just hate to do this but Toby and I were given the most wonderful opportunity that we couldn't possibly refuse. And since Annie's so happy with all of you, it wouldn't be too much of a burden to keep her there for a few more months—would it?"
"Would it?" And what am I supposed to say? I had no choice. "N-No," I stammered in a small voice. "She can stay."
"Oh, thanks, Moll! This means so much to us. I knew I could count on you." I was silent. This couldn't be happening. "Well—oh dear, I didn't realize what time it was. I have to go. Bye!"
"Bye," I mumbled, but she had already hung up. I pressed the off button and stared at the phone in my hand. Then it all hit me at once, and I fell to the floor, tears streaming down my cheeks, my arms wrapped around my knees with my back to the wall.
Carey immediately sat on the floor next to me and placed his hand on mine, his eyes full of concern. "That was Annie's mom?" he asked.
I nodded. "A-Annie's staying f-for a few more months," I informed him between sniffles. "What's happening to me, Carey?"
"You're just stressed," he said, brushing away some of my tears. "You're going through a lot right now." I nodded again, blinking hard. Then he took my hands and pulled me to my feet, throwing his arms around me in a tight hug. I nestled my head into his shoulder—I needed to be hugged so badly. I needed someone to comfort me, to get me through this. And Carey was doing exactly that.
We pulled apart, and I looked up into his eyes. He was staring at me. And then, slowly, he leaned in and kissed me. I didn't struggle or try to get away. I closed my eyes and let him shower me with his kisses. I suppose a million thoughts should have been rushing through my mind: that this was so wrong, that he was twenty years younger, my manager's son, and my daughter's crush. That I should back away now, before it's too late. But my only thought was how much I needed this, how much I needed to be loved, and most importantly, how much I needed him.