Page 26 of She's the Star

EIGHT

NOLAN

Taking care of Maddy. Establishing a routine. Meeting her needs. It makes me feel useful and appreciated. It’s only been a week. Seven days and I’m already invested and attached.

It isn’t as if I have a lack of meaningful connections in my life. If anything, there are too many people who care. A meddling father. A dedicated mother. A kindhearted stepfather. A never-ending supply of siblings. And yet, somehow, I’ve always felt a little lost amongst the chaos. It doesn’t make sense that I feel more settled now that I’m spending my days in a mansion that is easily the same size of my father’s and working for a woman who can effortlessly match his fame.

I already feel like I’ve become a valued member of Amber’s team and with that, I’ve collected dozens of tidbits of information—like Mina’s commitment to eating green vegetables at every meal and Brian’s unwillingness to wear anything but a suit when he’s working—which is always. I know where the fancy chocolate is hidden, and how to close and darken the wall of windows and doors that leads to the back yard. I’ve run a couple loads of laundry and added my favorite sparkling water to the grocery list. I don’t see Amber very much, but when I do, she’s easy to be around. I keep waiting for her to exhibit some behavior that I could label diva-like, but she doesn’t.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she says as she rushes into the living room at quarter past six on Friday night. She wipes the sweat off her forehead with the bottom of her shirt, giving me a glimpse of toned abs, before dropping to her knees next to us. “I lost track of time.”

Maddy swivels her head at her mother’s voice and gives her a drooly smile from my lap.

“It’s fine.” I keep telling her that she doesn’t need to cut her rehearsal short because I have nothing to do when I leave for the day, and I don’t mind hanging around, but she still insists on apologizing anyway.

“It isn’t fine. My dancers are going to mutiny if we keep running over. And you’re going to get sick of staying late eventually.” She leans forward and drops a kiss on Maddy’s forehead, her hair tickling my chin, and I resist the urge to bury my face in it. I refuse to be caught sniffing her like some sort of obsessed fan. “I don’t want to start the tour with everyone already exhausted. It’s important for morale that we keep to the schedule.”

“Is morale low?” I ask, more than a little surprised. She’s been so full of energy when I arrive in the mornings that I’ve been assuming rehearsals were going well.

“No. Morale is perfect. That’s why we keep running over. With every dance we master, I get more invigorated. My energy skyrockets, and time passes so quickly. Performing is such a rush and I just want to keep pushing and pushing. In the past, one of the dance captains would call for us to end, but I think they’re relieved to see that even though I have a daughter my commitment is the same.” A furrow appears between her brows as she sits back on her heels. “Should I not feel that way?” Her eyes widen. “Do you think they’re testing me? Do you think they were worried?”

That is a lot of questions. I’m not sure which one to answer so I counter with a question of my own. “Were you worried that it wouldn’t be the same?”

She nods, the furrow deepening. “I am worried.”

“About your commitment?”

“Not exactly. It’s more…I worry whether I can properly manage both my career and Maddy.” Her hand flies to her mouth like she wants to stuff the words back inside. Unfortunately, words don’t work like that. And saying things out loud can make them feel real. “Should I be spending more time with her? Am I going to regret this tour? I mean…no…of course I won’t. It’s going to be fine. She’s going to have an unconventional upbringing but that doesn’t mean it’ll be bad. I love her, and—” She bites her lip.

I consider telling her about my dad and what it’s like to have a famous parent. It might reassure her, but what if it doesn’t? And what if she sees me differently?

The problem is, I don’t want to lie—it can be hard to be Russell Gage’s son, and I’m sure there will be moments that Maddy wishes her life were more normal. There will be other times when she feels lucky. No one’s life is perfect.

The other problem is, I don’t talk about dad. Once people know, they do view me differently, and I’ve never been great at dealing with it.

“You love her. That’s the most important thing, right? And the fact that you’re asking those questions matters. You can’t solve problems you don’t acknowledge.”

“Do you think I’m making a mistake?”

Shit. That’s a heavy question. “I’ve only been here a week, but Maddy seems happy, and you seem happy.”

“That’s true.” She smiles, almost shyly. “I guess I’m just worried that you’re taking care of Maddy way more than I am.”

“You hired me to care for her, so you can focus on the tour when you need to,” I remind her. “It’s okay to allow people you trust to help.” The irony of my words is not lost on me, but thankfully she doesn’t know me well enough to know that I don’t practice what I preach.

“Ugh…I know.” She tugs on a strand of her hair. “I didn’t expect to feel so torn. I used to be so good at balancing everything.”

“I’ve had dozens of conversations with mothers who felt the same.”

“At your old job?”

“Yep. Not everyone struggles, but plenty do.”

“I appreciate that. It isn’t like I thought I was the only one, but I prefer problems with obvious solutions. And I hate questioning my decisions.”

I can certainly relate to that. “How can I help? Do you need to adjust our schedule? Or make some other change?”

“No. I’m sorry for whining about this. I’m just…I’m worried that I’m going to fuck up somehow.” She pinches her nose and groans. “I can’t believe I just admitted that.”

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