Page 47 of Between Now and Forever

“Yeah, but you’ve got to rehabilitate your relationship with influencers in the media if you want to get back on the television saddle. They just want to hear you say how excited you are to be back at the piano.”

“So you want me to lie.”

“Carter, come on. Prove yourself on this tour, and you’ll be on the road to where you’ve always wanted to be.”

“Dad. I’m ready. Why do I still need to prove anything? I haven’t had a drink in months. I’m going to therapy.”

“You’re not ready son. Do this interview. You’ll need these people in your corner.” My father looks so tired and I feel guilty.

“What time tomorrow were you thinking? I’ll need to take Beth home in the morning.”

“Nicknames already. You move fast,” my mother drawls.

I bristle at the reproach in her voice.

“You’re the one who invited her to stay the night.”

“Not so you could fuck her and get attached right before we’re leaving. You’ve done so well, son. The last thing you need is to spiral when this goes pear shaped.”

She tucks a lock of her straight hair behind her ear and crosses her legs underneath her.

“Thanks for the optimism, mom.”

“Carter, I’m not going to sugar coat things for you. You’ve got a lot on the line.”

“I know and you won’t let me forget it. And there’s nothing happening. She’s going back to her life tomorrow. It’s just tonight. Stop acting like it’s some life altering decision.”

My father straightens and jumps to my mother’s defense. “No need to get defensive, son.”

“I’m not—”

“Sure, she’s pretty. I know you like that she doesn’t know who we are and isn’t part of that world. All of that must be very attractive. But Carter, she lives here. You live in NYC. Her family is…” He strokes his chin while he searches for the right word. “Let’s just say her father isn’t going to approve. And I’m worried what’ll happen when he finds out she’s been here. If he’s anything likehisfather…” he shudders.

“You’re getting ahead of yourself. Sure, I like her. I might even fuck her. But I don’t have any intention of meeting her father.” I say.

“Carter, don’t you dare hurt that girl. She's not your typical flavor of the week.” My mother scolds me.

“What time are they going to call tomorrow?” I ask.

“10 am. You’ll do it?” My father looks shocked.

“Yeah. I think you’re right about it.

I don’t add that I’d doanythingto put an end to our conversation.

When I leave them, I’m brooding and no longer on the high I’d been riding since I kissed Beth. Maybe I shouldn’t go back to her room. My mother’s right. She’s not like the girls I used to drag home.

And while I appear to have everything under control, it’s a daily struggle. Underneath all the confidence and self-restraint, I’m a bubbling brew of unknown alchemy that could go off at any time.

It scares the living fuck out of me not to know.

When they told me I was adopted, I’d been shocked and confused, but also a little relieved.

It wasn’t that I didn’t feel like I belonged. In many ways, I’ve been the glue that holds us together. I have a role and place, and I’ve felt like my parents loved me less than my siblings.

It wasn’t that I didn’t look like them. Every family has a kid that doesn’t look like anyone, right?

It was the rest of it.

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