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With the label going bankrupt, the sound-recording copyrights and master recordings for all of my songs previously owned by the label sit in a black hole of the unknown. Vanessa is working hard to have the rights revert to me, but right now they sit with the bankruptcy trustee. I don’t plan on ever recording again, but I’d like to be the one in control of my intellectual property.
The only downsides to Vance Records dissolving are good, honest people losing their jobs, and that I wasn’t able to see Howard get his ass handed to him by HR or the exec board. The upside, I would never have to see the slimy creep again.
We have savings, but in the long term, this house is too much upkeep, and it’s not where we want to raise a family.
Kids are still very much on the table, but after the year we had, we aren’t in any rush. When it’s meant to happen, it will happen, but for now, we had a lot of time lost to make up for, and boy, were we making up for it any opportunity we had.
I decided to not return to the Smokey Barrel as their weeknight entertainment. Following the news about the record label, I put out a statement announcing my retirement. People were sad. A lot of them were angry, sending hate messages, demanding my time and presence. The parasocial bonds were one of the many reasons I would never regret my decision. Maybe one day I’d return to the stage on a smaller scale, but my relationship with music is tarnished. With the exception of the songs I wrote Talia, it was time to put that version of Tate Brooks to rest.
I told Jimmy I was all hands on deck, ready to do whatever he needed, from clerical to custodial work, anything behind the scenes. The idea of a normal day job was music to my ears and lifted a huge amount of pressure off my shoulders. As much as I tried, I never fully acclimatized to life under the spotlight, and while I couldn’t disappear altogether, the people of Iris Meadows treat me exactly as they did before I left.
Talia tugs at the collar of my shirt, dragging my mouth to hers. “Do you have your lunch?”
I wave the paper bag in the air. “Yes, Mom. But can’t I stay home? I’m scared of the big kids.”
She snorts. “I think it’s just Parker you have to worry about. She’s been in a bad mood ever since that meeting. Try to find out what’s happening. She’s being oddly secretive.”
I salute her just as a truck pulls up outside. “My ride is here. Give me those lips again.”
We meet in the middle, our farewell kiss filled with a lot more passion than most, but that’s just how it’s been. I’m hoping this never ends.
“I’ll see you when I’m home,” I whisper against her lips.
Talia’s eyes shine. “I’ll be here waiting.”
I slide my hand up her jaw. “Thank you for being the person I come home to.”
She turns to kiss the inside of my palm. “Thank you for creating a home I feel loved in.”
I’m quick to hide my contempt toward her parents. We haven’t spoken about them, and I’ll let Talia be the one to decide whether she’s ever ready to reach out to them again.
“Okay. Go, or you’ll never leave.” She swats my ass.
“And that’s a bad thing?” I waggle my eyebrows.
“Get!” She pushes me toward the door, laughing as I pepper kisses all over her face. The horn sounds outside, less patiently this time. “I love you.”
“I love you timelessly.”
We don’t break eye contact as I walk backward down the path. Not even when I almost lose my footing and go headfirst into the rose bushes.
Parker waits at the bottom of the drive, rolling her eyes as she watches us.
“You two need to get a room.” Her words contradict the grin on her face as she waves to Talia from the driver’s seat. She looks at the bag on my lap. “What’s that?”
I hold up my lunch. “Talia made sandwiches.”
“So she didn’t suspect a thing?”
“Nope.”
FIFTY-ONE
TALIA
“Is this the right way?” I stare at the GPS while sitting shotgun in Margot’s truck.
“Yes,” three voices reply at once.
