Page 75 of When the Storm Breaks
“Can we go to the playground now?” Noah asked when we were all in the truck.
It was only five o’clock and we still had an hour left before we had to take Hayley home. “Do you want me to take you home first?” Brody asked me, waiting until my seat belt was fastened before he pulled out of his parking spot.
This was my chance to escape. All I had to do was tell him yes and I’d be home safe. But instead of saying yes, I shook my head no. “It’s cool. I’ll come along.”
On the drive to the playground, Brody circled back to the question he’d asked earlier. “What would have made you cry?”
The kids were laughing and talking in the backseat, not paying us any mind so I lied and said the first thing that popped into my head. “I would have cried if someone tripped me while I was running.”
Oh my God. I rolled my eyes at myself. That was so lame.
“Did someone trip Hayley or Noah?” His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“No,” I said quickly, sensing he was about to question them and if need be, deal with a situation that was totally fabricated. “We were talking about some other kids.” His brow furrowed, trying to make sense of this. I waved my hand in the air. “Kids they don’t even know. It had absolutely nothing to do with them. It happened on a TV show.” The more I said, the worse I was making it.
Oh my God, shut up, Shiloh.
He gave me a funny look, but I pretended not to notice. I spun my thumb ring and stared out the windshield while I listened to Hayley’s sweet voice. She and Noah were making up silly songs. The words didn’t even make sense, but her voice was so pretty I couldn’t resist. I turned in my seat to face her. She had an Elsa Band-Aid on her left knee. The inspiration for my stupid story.
“Your mom told me you like to sing “Let It Go.” Is that your favorite song?”
“It’s my second favorite now.”
“What’s your first favorite?”
“Do you want me to sing it?” she offered.
I nodded, my hand wrapping around my phone, so I had it ready. “I’d love to hear it.”
Her face lit up at the prospect of singing for a captive audience.Me. “Okay.”
Without preamble she started singing The Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun.” She knew every word and hit every note and I was thankful sunglasses hid my eyes so nobody could see the tears in them. When she was done singing, Noah said, “Hayley’s the best singer in Texas. Probably the world. Right?”
She gave him a big smile, but I could barely see through the blur of tears. “She’s...” I cleared my throat. “…yes, she’s the best singer I’ve ever heard.”
I turned around to face forward as Brody pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. My heart hurt so much, and I didn’t know how I’d get through the rest of our time together. I wanted to curl into a ball and cry.
But with two kids clamoring to get to the playground, I didn’t have that luxury so with a heavy heart and heavy footsteps, I walked with Brody while the kids ran ahead. The playground was in a state park, a wood fence surrounding it, and shaded by trees but the heat was so oppressive, the air closed in on me. I peeled the tank top away from sweat-slick skin, trying to cool off. My heart was racing and the pressure building inside my head made it feel like it might explode.
“Why did you come to Cypress Springs, Shiloh?” Brody asked. As I’d already witnessed, he was observant, capable of reading my moods, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that he chose now to ask the question again. Maybe he’d figured out the truth and was looking for confirmation. I wasn’t ready to give him honesty. I didn’t even know how I felt about spending time with Hayley, let alone try to explain any of this to him.
As an entertainer, I’d learned how to be a good actress. I had one face I showed the world and the other, the real one, that only a select few got to see. The whole time I’d been in Texas, Brody had gotten to see the real Shiloh. Not the entertainer who performed on a stage.
But now I turned on my dazzling smile, the one I used when I accepted my Grammy. “I came here looking for you, Cowboy.” I lowered my sunglasses and winked at him. “And it’s been a hell of a ride.”
We stopped outside the fenced-in playground and he studied my face for a moment. “Yeah, okay. Message received.” He raked his hand through his hair and laughed harshly. My flippant response obviously hadn’t made him happy. “Fuck it. You don’t owe me a damn thing.”
With that he strode away and left me standing outside the playground. I watched him from the other side of the fence while he stood guard, arms crossed over his chest, making sure the kids didn’t fall and hurt themselves on the wood climbing frame. The kids were happily playing, oblivious to what was going on in the adults’ lives. I watched Hayley climb the frame then she followed Noah across the rope ladder bridge, her feet moving from one rung to the next, her brow furrowed in concentration. So focused, one foot in front of the other, her sole purpose to get to the other side.
The air was so hot and muggy, and it felt like I was suffocating and couldn’t draw enough air into my lungs. I was torn between wanting to join Brody and trying to make things right and walking away to get my head together. I needed time alone to think about this and to make my own peace.
His back was still turned to me, shoulders squared, legs slightly spread, eyes trained on the kids. And even though I couldn’t see his face I recognized his stance for what it was. He was putting up walls, trying to protect himself from the girl who refused to give him an honest answer to the only thing he had ever asked of her.
Like a coward, I turned and walked away, and I kept right on walking. Past the playground and the baseball diamond where a little league game was being played. I kept my eyes trained ahead of me, the brim of my ball cap pulled down low, and wiped away the tears as I walked away from Brody. Away from Hayley. Away from a life that would never be mine.
Last night, Dean had called me. Perfect timing, as always. I’d let his calls go to voicemail and he’d left two messages I hadn’t listened to yet. Maybe it was a sign. My old life was calling me back, a reminder of what was real and what was only a fantasy.
I was already feeling raw and vulnerable. Listening to Dean’s voicemail now would be a mistake. Apparently, I was a masochist. I slid my phone out of my pocket and played back the first one, holding my phone to my ear so I could listen to his voice. Familiar. Raspy. The voice of a lead singer and a man who had done a lot of hard living in his twenty-eight years.
