Rock My World (12 page)

A week ago,
if someone had told her this is where she’d
be,
she’d
have had them committed. It was unfathomable that her whole world and sense of
self could be flipped upside down so quickly. She’d had the perfect devoted
husband.
A loyal best friend.
Her biggest concern was
buying amazing one of-a-kind dresses and looking great for her anniversary,
trying to make her husband happy. Even her teenage daughter was pretty perfect.
She didn’t have a boyfriend. She played sports. Got good grades. She was
confident and capable, the opposite of her mother.

Chastising
herself
for having been so vapid and gullible, a
conversation with Alex came back to her. It had to have been around the time
Felicity started kindergarten, a particularly low point in Alex’s career.

“I bumped
into Ella Ryan today,” she’d said, unloading groceries in the kitchen. Alex had
looked up briefly from his laptop, grunting in response. “She mentioned a
couple modeling jobs she thought might be perfect for me.”

“Oh yeah?”
Alex said, still not listening.

“Yeah. Maybe
I should get some new headshots?” She grabbed the milk, turning to put in the
fridge.

“Why would
you want to go back to modeling? I thought you said it was a shallow industry,
that you were basically an object.”

“I did. No,
I don’t want to be a model. It just sounded like fun.” She busied herself,
turning everything in the fridge label side out.

“Jenna, I
already told you, if you’re worried about money, you don’t need to … ” he
started, sighing.

“No, no,
that’s not it. Never mind. You’re right, it’s shallow and stupid.”

He looked up
at her, concern etched into the creases in his forehead.

“I think I forgot something in the car,” she said,
excusing herself from the tension.

That was the
last time she’d ever mentioned getting a job. She didn’t want to work if it
meant making Alex feel like a bad husband. But now the memory felt different.
Now all the rules had changed. And she was changing too.

Chapter
20

It was dark
when Trey dropped Felicity off at her grandparents’. The silence chilled the
air between them as they made their way up the gravel driveway. Felicity gave
no indication of wanting to talk about what happened at the party.

“You okay?”
he asked, his voice soft.

She pulled off her helmet and handed it to him,
not looking up. “Fine.” She slung her backpack over one shoulder, waved and
mumbled something that sounded like “see you tomorrow.”

She didn’t
look back, keeping her head down, looking at her feet hitting gravel on their
way to the door. Before she reached it, it flung open. She jumped, momentarily
forgetting her anger.

 
“
Cici
! There you
are!” Anya said. Felicity adjusted her backpack. “I was
worried
sick!” Anya hugged her like
she’d been returned by deranged
kidnappers
.

“I’m fine.”
Guilt for making her grandmother worry overrode the anger she’d been stewing
in. She should have called. It wasn’t like her to take off and not check in.
“Sorry.”

“Are you
okay?” Anya asked. It was the worst question to be asked when trying not to
cry. She couldn’t withstand her grandmother’s imploring look and the tears
started flowing.

“Oh
Cici
, what happened?” Anya hugged her, wrapped both arms
around her like a small child, and kissed the top of her head. “
Shhhh
.
Shhhhh
.
It
’s
okay.
Shhhhh
.”

“Is it
true?” Felicity sniffed.

Anya took a deep breath and looked her straight in
the eye. “If you’re asking what I think you are, then, honestly, I’m not sure.
I don’t think we know the whole story.”

“Why didn’t
anyone tell me?”

“I didn’t
think we should say anything until we knew if it would blow over.” Anya
maintained eye contact with her granddaughter, carefully watching her face turn
from anger to confusion to concern.

“I’m not a
baby. I’m sick of being treated like I can’t handle anything. I know a lot more
than anyone gives me credit for.”

“I know you
do,
Cic
. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted
to protect you.” Felicity thought about that. Her grandmother had always
treated her like an adult from the time she was a little girl. The fact that
she’d hidden it disconcerted Felicity more than the separation itself.

“It’s been a
week.” Felicity said.

Her mom
carried out a dramatic scene for a few hours, at most. She was always back and
ready for the next round of theatrics before her perfect chestnut hair could
fall flat. As over-reactive as she was, Felicity had never seen her move out,
or even
threaten
to.

“Why hasn’t
my dad called?”

Now in
full-on detective mode, she wanted answers. In the moment it took Anya to
respond, Felicity regretted asking. Before she could hear the official answer,
she preempted, “It was his fault, wasn’t it? The fight?”

Anya nodded. “There are two sides to everything.”

“Can’t he just apologize?” Her voice cracked. The
sad look on Anya’s face told her all she needed but hoped she wouldn’t have to
know.

“You girls
ready for dinner?” Shawn asked, poking his head around the corner.

“I’m not hungry.
I’m going to bed.” Felicity said, slipping past him up the stairs to her room.

“Suit
yourself. If you change your mind later, I’ll leave some leftovers in the
fridge.” His chipper mood couldn’t penetrate the wall of tension he’d walked
into.

After
Felicity went upstairs and they heard her door close, Anya told Shawn what
happened with Felicity. For a giant celebrity, he was still just a bloke from
Woop-Woop
, Australia. He had a relentlessly optimistic
outlook on life, and not much knowledge of the inner workings of the female
psyche.

“
Ahh
, she’ll be ‘right.”

Anya wasn’t
sure to which ‘she’ he referred, especially since he often used the same phrase
after burning a sausage.

Shawn’s
musical career as a touring musician had been relatively short. He was on the
road for five years before the band split up. By the time he ventured into his
solo career (at Anya’s urging), he was in a position, both leverage-wise and
financially, to hit the summer tour circuit and add select dates throughout the
rest of the year. It meant that he was around for most of Jenna’s childhood,
unlike Alex for Felicity.

Shawn’s
success came through smart use of his publishing royalties and by writing and
producing for other artists. That’s how he got to live out his childhood fantasy
of creating a home studio (a feat far more ambitious in the analog days). He’d
been able to make a good living off music with as few dealings with the dark
underbelly of the industry as possible. His was not the usual tale.

Alex’s career followed the more stereotypical
path. He’d been in countless bands over the years, from punk to
emo
to rock, playing to drunks and a handful of fans, at
every seedy bar and club around LA. He even did some solo stuff at one point
that no one paid any attention to. His die-hard fans stuck by him while band
members cycled out through drugs, alcohol and creative politics, but their
numbers were never impressive enough to propel the band to that next level.

Fans attributed his not signing a record deal as
his “fuck you” to the music industry. It gave him credibility that he’d been
riding on for years, but as he watched his contemporaries sign record deals and
sell out shows, he had to admit he was frustrated by his inability to get that kind
of industry validation.

Success had
only come recently, to the uproars and occasional death-threats from his
die-hard fans. Some of the more virulent and outspoken ones (angry that his
music had been featured on a soda commercial) blogged that he was the “worst
kind of sell-out,” “a pussy-whipped loser because his wife was sick of him
living off her trust fund as he trifled in the shadow of his famous (and more
talented) father-in-law.”

Though Alex
considered himself a pretty secure man, it wasn’t easy to read that stuff,
especially because at the heart of it was a grain of truth. Shawn knew the
cruel realities of the industry as well as the dichotomy between his passion
and practical pursuits of The Dream. He liked Alex. He’d never blamed him or
held it against him that he hadn’t broken in earlier, though of course he’d
offered to help.

Alex wanted
to do it on his own. Shawn respected that. He knew Alex’s priorities were where
they should be. And as a father, he appreciated the adoration shown his
daughter, though the circumstances of their marriage were less than desirable,
to say the least. This business with
Airika
kissing
Alex seemed out of character, and Shawn was content to calmly wait for the
truth to be revealed in time.
Unlike Anya.

“Hungry?” He
asked again. Anya smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Famished.”

They ate in
comfortable silence. Their approaches to dealing with conflict differed, but
they were united in parenthood.

Chapter
21

“Hi Dad,
it’s me. Again.” Felicity stalled, not sure what to say in yet another
voicemail. “Um, I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m worried about you.
Call me back,
kay
?”

She hung up,
hating her whiny tone. For as long as she could remember, her dad had checked
in with her at least once a day whenever he was on tour, even if it was just a
quick text. It had been four days since his last text and that had been a photo
of an old bookshop on a cobblestone street. He hadn’t even attached a caption,
let alone explained anything.

Felicity
played the part of messenger in her parents’ fights often enough, but typically
they involved things like who was supposed to do the shopping, or the old
standby: “I told you I had that thing to go to tonight. You just forgot.” That
always got Jenna in a snit and then Felicity would go from one to the other
relaying messages until they made up or her mom cooled off, whichever came first.

But in all
the years of mediating, she’d never seen anything on par with what was going on
now. If she didn’t know better she’d have suspected another woman. But he would
never cheat. Never. She’d bet her life on it.

There must
be a simpler explanation. Obviously it involved their anniversary, since that’s
when it happened, but Felicity helped him plan the whole thing—from the
backyard winter wonderland transformation to the surprise renewal of their
vows. She knew her mom would have loved it.

“
Beeep
!” She leaned out the window and signaled “just a
minute” before running down the stairs to meet Trey. She shouted a quick, “Bye”
over her shoulder and slung her backpack on as she shut the front door. Trey waved
and handed her a helmet.

“You ready?”
He asked.

“Sorry about
yesterday. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” Her cheeks flushed thinking
about how she’d behaved.

“Yeah, what
was that about?” He asked.

“Sadie was
just being … Sadie. I shouldn’t have let her get under my skin.” Trey nodded,
shrugged, and let the kickstand up.

 
“Shall we?” He asked.

She nodded and grabbed hold of his waist as they
took off.

***

“Why is
she
here?” Alex said, glaring between
Airika
and Simon.
Simon put up his hands.

“Mate, hear
me out. She’s under contract for the tour and we wouldn’t want a lawsuit, would
we?” He raised an authoritative brow. “Plus, didn’t she do a great job for your
last cover?” Another pause met with steely silence. “Yes! She did. The label loved
it. I loved it. Everyone loved it. So this’ll be fine. We’re all big boys
here.” He glanced over at
Airika
.
 
“And lass.”

The sweet
tone he injected into his gruff voice was like a girl scout selling
cigarettes.
 
Airika
batted her eyelashes, eliciting a lascivious smile from Simon. Alex was
trapped, and he knew that viper Rose must be lurking somewhere nearby, hoping
to get a juicier story.
No sense
spoon-feeding her material
.

He took a
deep breath. “Fine, just do what I pay you to do,” he said to
Airika
, glaring at Simon.

“Of
course.
 
I d
- ,
”
Airika
started.

“Great,
let’s get to work then!” Simon cut her off, patting Alex on the back and
steering
Airika
in the opposite direction. “Come with
me doll, I’ll show you the green room.”

Once they
disappeared from view, Alex couldn’t stop the anger from boiling over. His skin
crawled with frustration. What had he gotten himself into? He was so distracted
he didn’t even notice the cameras still following him.