Dare to Dream (Truth or Dare #2) (5 page)

“Didn’t say that. What I mean with that is I had to decide between a music career that likely wasn’t ever going to amount to anything and a woman with two kids I would die for. They might not be mine biologically, but it wasn’t long after we started dating that I knew
they
were the ones I couldn’t live without. All three of them.”

As if to help prove his point, Devon comes running through the yard, panting by the time he reaches the top step of the deck. “Dad, did you see that? I hit it all the way over to
the Mickelson’s yard! I can’t wait for spring ball!” Aaron congratulates his son, ruffling his short brown hair as he pushes him to join his friends and keep playing.

“That is what I gave up music for,” he says, pointing to the yard. “If I had managed to defy the odds, I probably wouldn’t be here to congratulate him when he’s proud of himself. I couldn’t tell him that being the best isn’t everything when he falls short. If I was on the road, he’d be no better off than when I wasn’t in their lives because he still wouldn’t have a father in his life. And a boy needs that to grow into a strong man.”

I pick at the label of my beer, wondering if Aaron knows how deeply his words cut. If my own father was more like the man sitting next to me, I could talk to him about these decisions. But he’s not. He’s the man who pushed me to be something I’m not and then pushed me away when he realized I would never be the person he imagined I would become since I was a baby. He assumed that having a son meant he’d have someone to take over the shop when he decided to retire. As I got older, he talked about how I could go to college first and run the business side until that day came. The day I told him none of that was going to happen; I might as well have slapped him in the face.

“Where is this coming from? Ever since the day I picked you up at the bus terminal, all you’ve been able to talk about it your music. And how you wanted to prove to Lea that you can be a man she’s proud of.” He leans back against the railing of the deck, hovering over me, arms crossed over his chest. “Seems to me you’ve done plenty to
make her proud. How’s quitting going to help you achieve any of your goals?”

Even though he’s only ten years older than me, I feel like Aaron was put in my life to be th
e father-figure I always longed to have. He’s not letting me off the hook, but he’s not telling me that I’m stupid, either. He’s pushing me to come to my own conclusions. Guiding me to make the right decision rather than the easy one.

“I never said I was going to quit,” I say defensively, taking a long draw off my beer. But isn’t that exactly what I implied? That I was at least
thinking
about quitting? “I’m just thinking about everything more now because I’m not sure Lea wants this. I know she said she did, but now that it’s happening, she seems upset. What if she figured I would come down here and get it out of my system while she was in school so that, after she graduates, she could have what Rebecca has?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” he argues. “First of all, I was there. She was so fucking proud of you the night I brought her into the bar that she just about started crying when she saw you up there. She actually had to hold onto her chair to keep from running up to tell you in the middle of your set. And secondly, I guarantee you
—she doesn’t want what Rebecca has.”

Why wouldn’t Lea want that? Rebecca has the ideal American life. Husband, kids, nice house, she has it all. Fuck, she has everything I want to give Lea. Everything a woman deserves to have.

“Do you think it’s easy for Rebecca? Every time life gets tough, she thinks it’s because I regret it. She thinks I resent her and the kids.” It’s like he could see the confusion plastered all over my face. And now, he’s on a roll, pointing out to me how
not
perfect their life is. It gives me even more to think about.

“I still don’t understand why she seems more pissed off than excited about Pete offering me a contract.” I wish we could keep talking, but
as I open my mouth to continue sharing my reservations with Aaron, the women come out carrying stacks of plates and enough side dishes to feed an army.

Before he tends to the meat again, Aaron grabs the back of my neck, pulling me close to him. “We’ll talk later, but remember that her life is changing too. Every overwhelming feeling you have right now, hers is likely multiplied because she’s already dealing with trying to live her life back home. It’s a lot to deal with, but you two are going to be fine.”

As I process the words he’s whispering to me, I look over his shoulder and see Lea cautiously watching us. She cocks an eyebrow in question and I wink at her. Aaron’s right, whatever’s going on, we’ll figure out how to conquer it. Together.

Lea

Every day I’m here, I feel more weight bearing down on my shoulders. Yesterday was hard for me, but not for any of the reasons Colby
may think. I wanted to be happy for him, I
was
happy for him, but my own thoughts overshadowed every positive emotion. It ripped me to the core to see him blast through the door of our hotel suite, knowing that he’s a huge step closer to making his dream come true, at the same time I realized I haven’t even tried to have a dream. And no matter how hard I tried to be excited for him, the hollow pit inside of me grew because I felt like a hypocrite.

This morning, he apologized profusely when he had to leave me while I was still trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. He fought to hide the excitement about the fact that he was headed to meet with an attorney to comb over the contract. If I had admitted my thoughts to him last night, he would have realized how proud I am of him, but instead, I claimed the wine gave me a headache and rolled over to go to sleep. I’m a bitch for letting him think he needs to hide his eager anticipation from me, especially after I pushed him to do this while I’m still here.

“Hey, you okay?” Rebecca asks, placing her hand tenderly on my forearm. I’m sure she thinks I’m a total space cadet at this point. I was so lost in my mental pity party that I didn’t even notice her come into the hotel lobby.

As soon as I asked her about shopping today, she pulled out her phone to shift around some meetings. And now she’s stuck with me for the afternoon. Lucky her.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I lie, not wanting to make her think any less of me than she probably already does. “Not getting much sleep this week. You know how it is.”

She laughs, pulling me in for a tight hug. It’s too friendly, but I accept the comfort she’s offering. “Honey, we have two kids at home, I have no clue how
anything is anymore.”

We both laugh even harder, linking arms like old friends as we walk out of the hotel into the afternoon sun. The warmth in late October is one more thin
g I’m going to miss when I go back home. Rebecca pulls me into a small coffee shop, telling me to find us a table while she orders.

I start to relax by the time she comes back, and before our cups are empty, I feel like she’s someone I could easily see fitting into my life.
While I ignore the part where Colby’s life will likely be confined to the inside of a tour bus and miles of endless highway before too long, I can see everything about Nashville fitting into my life. It’s the first bit of crystal clarity in a period of utter chaos and uncertainty that my mind has been.

“So, which Lea is the real Lea?” Rebecca asks as she points down the street to a small boutique she swears has the best outfits in town.

“Excuse me?” I respond, not sure what she’s getting at. I might be an emotional mess right now, but I’m fairly certain that I haven’t come across as fake at any point. Unstable yes, disingenuous no.

“Last night and when I first picked you up, you were so serious,” she says bluntly. “But now, it’s like you’re a totally different woman. Which one is the one I should get used to seeing?”

The way she cuts to the chase could be seen as borderline rude to many people, but I appreciate her bluntness. I was prepared for this to be one of those “celebrity cities” where people are always putting on a front, trying to not say the wrong thing to the wrong person.

“Hopefully this one,” I respond, still unsure if that’s possible.
“I’ve been thinking about some heavy stuff and I guess I haven’t done a good job of hiding it. I’m sorry.”

“Honey, we all have times when life threatens to drag us under. The trick to making it to the next step is to not hold it all to your
own chest.” She rubs her hand over her heart, letting out a deep sigh and I realize this woman is speaking from experience. Colby hasn’t told me much about her, but I know that she was a single mom for a while before she met Aaron and she’s why he decided to give up music.

Does she regret giving him that option? Does she wonder what their life would
have been like if she had pushed him? What pain did she hold onto and how did she find the courage to ask for help? As I watch her attention shift to the window display of the boutique, I want to know the answers to these questions. I hope I’ll be given the chance to get to know more about Rebecca.

“You have to try that on,” Rebecca squeals, pointing to the turquoise dress on the mannequin. Everything about the simple one-shoulder dress with a flouncy neckline screams country. Not something I would typically pick for myself, but if I’m destined to have Nashville as part of my life in the future,
I might as well try to fit in.

We step inside and Rebecca calls to the woman standing behind the counter by name, asking her where to find the dress. She practically shoves me into the dressing room, meeting me with a silver beaded belt when I step out. Looking down at my Chuck Taylors, she laughs at the overall fashion disaster.

“Kick those off,” she instructs me, and I do. I’m in desperate need of a pedicure, which is why I refused to set foot on the sales floor without my shoes. “I know where our next stop is going to be.” She winks, noticing how I’m trying to hide my feet, which is impossible at this point.

Once she wraps the belt around my waist and makes a few adjustments, she tells me to turn around. The length of the skirt concerns me, even more when she says we’re going boot shopping this afternoon, but other than that, I have to admit that I look good. While I change, I hear her chatting with Glory, the shop owner, about accessories. When I reach into my wallet, trying to keep from cringing at the price tag, Rebecca places her hand over mine.

“This is my treat,” she insists. I open my mouth to refuse her but she places a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Once that boy of yours is rich and famous, I’ll let you treat. But today is all on me, so don’t even think about pulling out your wallet again. You understand?”

It’s only after I nod that she drops her hand. Waving to Glory, she thanks the woman for her help, promising to be back soon. I’m not sure I will be, this place is definitely out of my price range and it’ll be a long time before I come close to being able to afford such luxuries. I’m an Old Navy girl, not a boutique shopper.

By the time Rebecca proclaims that I’m adequately buffed, styled and spoiled, it’s late in the evening. She informed me before we entered a small spa that she made Aaron take the night off so she could enjoy a girls’ day without having to obsess over the clock and I realize how serious she was about that when she pulls me into a martini bar near the hotel.

I drop the bags on the floor next to our booth as she flops in her seat.
Even though she feigns exhaustion, I have no doubt that she’s far more used to spending afternoons shopping and pampering herself than I will ever be. In fact, this is the first time I’ve done this and as nice as it was, it’s not something I see myself looking forward to doing on a regular basis. It’s all just so…excessive.

“So, are you going to keep
stewing over whatever’s bothering you or do you want to talk about it?” Rebecca asks, peering over the rim of an absolutely decadent caramel apple martini. I’m used to bars where everything is served in pint glasses and they look at you like you’ve grown an extra head if you order complex drinks. Here, every glass looks like a delicate work of art. A bit stuffy for me, but after one sip, I’m convinced this is one aspect of the high life I could definitely become comfortable with.

We begin a staring contest; she waits for me to answer while I decide if I’m ready to talk about it. It’s been hours since I’ve wondered if she thinks I’m immature or incapable of what Colby’s life entails and I would prefer to keep it that way. Then again, she might be able to understand me in a way that no one back home can. The only people I talk to are used to Colby and I as a unit, even before we were
officially a couple, so they are already pushing me to put my life on hold for him. Whatever I do decide, it’s not going to be for his sake—it has to be for mine alone.

“Have you ever had a moment when you look around and you have no idea how you got to where you are?” I ask, my eyes wandering anywhere but her face as the words begin to flow. She places a hand over her mouth, letting out an unladylike snort.

“Honey, as wonderful as my life is now that I have Aaron, there are still days I barely recognize myself when I look in the mirror.” Her fingers tap nervously on the hardwood tabletop and it appears that she’s wrestling with her own demons. Leave it to me to touch on a raw subject for her.

“But you have it all, what’s not to love?”

She swirls the little bit of liquid around in her glass before running her finger around the inside to collect as much caramel sauce as possible. I really want to laugh as she waves her sticky finger in my face as she speaks. “Even when you love your life, it doesn’t mean it’s what you imagined it would be like.” She sticks her finger in her mouth, sucking off every last bit of sauce. I’m not sure why I had put her on a pedestal, placing her just out of reach in my mind, but watching her do something so mundane makes me realize that we’re both just normal women, trying to get by in life.

“Do you think that being a widow before I was even twenty-six was something I dreamed of as a little girl?” My jaw goes slack at the revelation. While I knew the kids’ dad wasn’t in the picture, I guess I assumed that he was a deadbeat and they were better off without him. The reality of her life is depressing. And here I am, worried about whether or not I want to finish college or move away to be with Colby.
I wish it were possible to take back my petty concerns.

“When I walked down th
at aisle, younger than you are now, I thought Mike and I would be together forever. And maybe we would have been, but God apparently had other plans,” she says in that matter-of-fact way that I’m learning is her standard way of being. “Some days, I wake up and I’m so angry that he’s not here. That has nothing to do with Aaron and everything to do with me not having the life I planned out. So yes, I know how that feels.”

I tip back my glass, emptying the contents because I can’t think of a single thing to say in response. She reaches across the table for my free hand. “Honey, whatever you have going on
in that head of yours, it’s okay to talk about it.”

I was ready to do just that, but now I feel silly.
She’s right though, I do need to talk about it, and it’d be nice to get some outside perspective before I have to sit down with Colby. “I think part of my problem is that I never thought about what I wanted in my life. My family made their expectations clear when I was very young and that was the only way it was.”

“So what changed?” She signals the waitress for another round of drinks. I’m not sure that’s a great idea since I’m already starting to feel a bit fuzzy from the first one.

“Everything,” I admit to her. “I was the one who told Colby he needed to come down here. That I didn’t want him to stay with me and wind up having regrets later on in life.”

Rebecca nods. “I think that was a very mature decision for you. I’m not sure I could have done it at your age. But what about you? What do you want in life? Because the way you’re talking, it sounds like there’s a whole lot of regret coming down the pipe, but not from Colby.”

“That’s the thing; I don’t know what I want. When I close my eyes, I can’t see my future at all.” I shrug, not knowing what else to say.

It sounds like the makings of a bad country song, but before Colby, my life was a void. It wasn’t a bad life
—it wasn’t what I would call a life at all now that I’m thinking about it more frequently. I spent two decades as a puppet, letting my mom enroll me in the activities she wished she had been a part of as a child, telling friends my parents wouldn’t let me play because I didn’t want them to tease me for studying instead of riding my bike through the neighborhood. Every single thing I’ve done has been for them.

But now, I can see beyond the abyss. I know there’s something off in the distance, but when I look at the future, it’s like trying to see something far off when I’m not wearing my contacts. Something is there, but I can’t make out the shapes.

“It sounds to me like you need to take a break from it all,” Rebecca suggests. A break sounds divine, but the very thought of telling my parents that’s what I want causes me to shudder. “School will be there down the line. You’re a grown woman and it’s time you start living your own life. Your parents had their own decisions to make, and if they regret those choices, that’s on them.”

We continue talking through three more rounds of drinks. By the time we leave, I feel ready to take on the world thanks to Rebecca’s encouragement. I’m still not ready to tell Colby what I’m thinking
about because I don’t want to give him false hope, but I have faith that he’ll be there for me, whatever I decide do in the end.