I shrugged and glanced away. “Not that she noticed.”
“She noticed.”
“I can’t leave my little brother to fend for himself, you know? He’s only fifteen. He can’t work yet and he shouldn’t have to just to have electricity. Dad’s disability isn’t enough and whatever Mom’s bringing is can’t be if she was that far behind on the bills. I just...”
“Feel obligated to stay?”
I wiped a slow running tear from the cheek. “Yeah.”
“You feel stuck?”
“Yeah.”
“Who’s stuck?” Heath asked sitting down by Crystal and putting the large milkshake in front of me. His was halfway gone already.
“Cami.” Crystal snagged the cherry off my shake.
“Why’s Cami stuck?” he asked, politely prodding.
“Long story,” Crystal said. “What’re we going to do to help her get unstuck?”
Heath tapped his chin with his spoon, melted cream rolling down his finger. “Well, Cami needs to hone those pipes of hers. She still needs to find her sound, but I think it’s more country than rock. She gets a little pitchy if she goes too high in her upper range. So, we’re going to work on her vocals and back her up at gigs. Just need to get Mike onboard and find a guitarist.”
“I can get her the gigs, no problem,” Crystal said, taking my mug and adding sugar to my forgotten coffee. “You’ll work on her vocals?”
“Of course,” he said. “Dylan did good, but he got distracted. Cami should be farther than this by now.”
“Wait a minute,” I said, holding up my own spoon. I stared at Crystal. “You’re going to be my manager?” Then turned to Heath. “And you’re going to be my vocal coach?”
“And band. Don’t forget band. We get something out of this too,” Heath added. “But in a nutshell, yeah.”
“You’re too good to clean hotel rooms, Cam,” Crystal said with a wicked glint in her eye. “We’re here to help you get where you need to go. And it ain’t Branson.”
“Nashville. That’s where you need to be.” Heath smiled. “I’m cool with country. Nashville sounds like a big time.”
“This time next year, we’ll be on our way,” Crystal said.
“Or sooner.”
“But Mom—”
“Will be better off if you’re singing, if you’re touring, if you’re making money, if you’re on the radio,” Crystal said. “This is the best way to help you. Trust us.”
The hope that had disappeared came back. It wasn’t much, but it was there. I was holding it tight.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The next two weeks were excruciating. I worked at the resort in the laundry Mondays and Tuesdays. It was hot, and it was tedious. And the pay sucked, but it brought in money. Mom never said anything about the bills being caught up. Maybe she didn’t notice. I doubted that, but I didn’t say anything either.
It was the week after the Fourth of July. Hank had either stopped drinking or simply been on his best behavior. Rumor had swept through the theater that Mr. Reynolds refused to pay Hank for the show he’d abandoned. Fortunately, it hadn’t effective us.
Dylan had been by his dad’s side every minute. He no longer hung out in our dressing room. During performances, he’d set himself up on the opposite side of the stage. Crystal and I went through the motions of happy backup singers. Heath had to work harder to appear as if he was enjoying himself around Hank. Mike didn’t hide his anger though.
We finished up Sunday night’s show with a lackluster encore. I sat at my dressing table when someone dropped a newspaper over my shoulder and onto my lap. Turning quickly, I saw Dylan’s retreating back. He hadn’t said two words to me since that night. A quiver of regret shivered through me. I dug my nails into my palms to stop from reaching for him. The ache in my chest only got worse. It wasn’t about to disappear anytime soon. I bit my lip and lifted the paper. It was turned to the entertainment section of the locale paper. A new mid-season review. My gaze went to the yellow highlighted circle.
Williams sings as if he doesn’t even want to be at Mountain View, much less Branson. He rarely makes public appearances and is robotic on stage. The only high point of his shows is local backup singer Cami Ann Harris. Her voice echoes through the theater and gives hope to a show that desperately needs a jolt of talent. Hear the voice of the next country superstar on her YouTube channel. She is definitely a Branson star in the making.
Written underneath in red ink, Dylan added, “He’s gunning for you again.”
I sighed and let the paper fall onto my table. It wasn’t my fault that Hank hated me. He had never wanted me in the first place. I was Dylan’s choice. Hank wanted people who would make him look great. Somehow, I made him look bad. Honestly, I was surprised I hadn’t been fired yet.
Thanks for the heads up, I texted Dylan.
He didn’t respond. I shouldn’t have expected him to, but I missed him.
My phone dinged ten minutes later after I finished taking off the stage makeup. I looked fifteen again. Crystal had taken over doing my eyes, and it always made me look and feel so much older. It was crazy how much confidence I had every night, too. I felt like someone else, so I was braver and more daring. It was like I left Cameron behind and had become Cami Ann.
I picked up the phone.
Can we talk? Iris had sent it. We hadn’t seen each other since the blow up with Miranda. She’d stop responding to my texts. Why now? It was almost one in the morning. Something must be wrong.
At the theater now. Have to get up early. I wasn’t trying to blow her off, but I needed to clock in at the resort at seven. That only gave me five hours
