Dad lifts the guitar over his head, sets it on a stand in the corner. “You’ll understandsomeday.”
Sophie squirms, and I shift her, stroking her soft pink cheek until she smiles. “She’s perfect, isn’t she? When do we get lessperfect?”
Dad comes closer, folding his arms over his chest. “Tell me what’swrong.”
My chest aches. “I want to take music lessons. Theory. Voice. Tyler’s been helping me“—his brows furrow, and I press on—“but it’s not enough. I know you don’t want to teach me, and that’s probably for the best because we’d fight the whole time, but I want tolearn.”
I expect him to turn me down, and he looks as if he’s on the verge. “If I say no, you’ll find a way to get themanyway.”
“Yes.”
He rubs a hand through his hair. “All right,then.”
My chestexpands.
Sophie spits out her soother, and my dad grabs it off thefloor.
“If you five-second rule that right now,” I warn, “I’m going to have to tell her when she’s seventeen and wants to know why her life sucks. ‘Dirty-floor soothers.’ That’s what I’llsay.”
His eyes crinkle as he goes to his desk. “Haley’d have my back.” He pulls out a new soother from the top drawer, passes it to my fussy sister who latches on like it’s life itself. “Besides, you never had it easy, and you turned out allright.”
He looks at me as if waiting for me to disagree withhim.
I can’t. Tonight, despite the emotional turmoil of the last forty-eight hours, I don’t feel like I’m bleedingout.
The road ahead isn’t easy, but there’s a glimmer ofhope.
I cross to him and reach up to hug him with my free arm. He hugs me back. “Tell me one thing,” he murmurs. “Should I beworried?”
“What do you mean?” I ask when I pullback.
“Dropping classes. Staying out late. Swimming in your schoolclothes.”
I smile. “I’m okay. Ipromise.”
He searches my expression. “There’s nothing you want to tellme.”
“No. Night,Dad.”
“Annie.” I hesitate at the door, and he looks at me along time before nodding to Sophie. “Give her to me. It’s a school night. You have things todo.”
I think of Tyler in the poolhouse.
I wonder if heknows.
But he doesn’t say anything as I pass him my sister, then turn for thedoor.
19
This week feelslike I’m living a roller coaster—or a series of them, one after the other, without time to get off inbetween.
It’s after midnight when I round the house, guitar in tow, headed for Jax’s converted tourbus.
I spend a lot of time in here with Jax, but it’s different on my own. I’m surrounded by memories, by history, but tonight when I take a seat on the couch, it’s just me and the incredible instrument under myhands.
Is there any part of my life Annie doesn’t touchanymore?
I play song after song, and while I play, Ithink.