Page 64 of Lies and Lullabies
There was no sign of Kira in the darkened living room. So I grabbed my dinner plate out of the refrigerator and put it in the spotless microwave oven. I was leaning against the counter, drinking a quart of water and wolfing down reheated chicken and potatoes when she emerged from the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hi, yourself.” I set down my empty plate as Kira made her way over to me. “So. What did you think of the whole circus?”
She shoved her hands in her pockets. “Where to start?”
“That bad, huh?” I opened the fridge and pulled out two beers.
“No, it was amazing. But—Jonas—it’s weird to be you. All those women screaming your name.”
“Some of the men, too,” I joked. “But that’s just another day at the office for me.”
She gave me an assessing stare as she accepted the beer. “That’s what you’re going with?”
“Yes? No? You’re right. It’s super weird. But when I sat down to write my first song at age fourteen, I wasn’t gunning for that. I just wanted to write something pretty. It’s not really my fault that people yell my name. I’m sure it’s skewed my world view, but I can’t tell you how much because I’m trapped here in my own weird existence, where people follow me into the bathroom and it seems normal to spend two grand on a hotel room.”
“Twogrand.” Kira glanced around, looking more horrified than impressed.
“Hotels force us onto pricey floors for security purposes.”
“Eesh.” She took a sip of beer. “So tell me—what am I doing here?”
“Obviously you’re here to validate my fucked-up world view.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Kidding! You’re just here having a beer with me. Like we always did.”
“Jonas, there was noalways. There was just one weird summer, when neither of us was living in the real world.” She took another sip of her beer and regarded me in a way that was almost cool. Now that the shock of seeing me again had worn off, she looked more calm and collected than I’d ever seen her.
I wasn’t, though. I would never be able to play it cool when she was around. She wasthe one. And suddenly I felt desperate to let her know that. “Come sit down with me.”
I flipped off the kitchen lights and crossed the big living space with only the city lights illuminating my path. The darkness was a nice change from the stage. I sat down on the sofa.
Kira sat down too—about five feet away from me. It was not the encouraging sign I was looking for.
“Are you hungry?” I asked her. “There’s still food in the fridge. Or we could order something for you.”
Kira shook her head. “Thanks, I’m fine.”
I tipped my head toward the door where Vivi lay sleeping. “Shesleepswith that purple cat?”
“She loves Purple Kitty. I don’t know why.” Kira paused a beat. “Actually, I once told her that her daddy gave it to me.”
Oh, man. That had to mean something. Didn’t it? “You know, that cat has seen better days. Seems like her daddy should spring for a nicer stuffy.”
At that, Kira finally flashed me a smile. “That’s the funny thing. She has dozens of stuffies. Every one of them is newer and fancier than that one. She says she loves them all, but she keeps coming back to Purple Kitty. I have to trick her into washing it every once in a while.”
“Purple Kitty has been through the washer?”
“Sure. Purple Kitty leads a dangerous life on the front lines. When the tummy bugs happen, Purple Kitty is right there.”
“Unlucky kitty!” I laughed. “You know, I have a friend who swears that rock and roll is good training for being a parent. Because you already know how to stay up all night, and you’re not afraid of a little puke.”
“Interesting theory,” Kira murmured, watching me from the other end of the couch. She’d tucked her legs up, putting up even more barriers between us.
“I’m not saying I know anything about raising kids. But I’m ready to learn. You must have had a hard time, Kira. I can’t imagine how you’ve done everything—taking care of Vivi and going to school, too.”
