The house was quiet when I opened the door. Dad shifted in his recliner. The TV was on, but the volume was almost nonexistent. I picked up the remote on the arm of Dad’s chair and turned it off. Dad would wake in a few hours and turn it back on, so I put the remote back where I found it. Then I switched off the lamp on the side table. There wasn’t any reason to burn the electricity. We’d pay for it later.
“Cameron?” Mom’s voice drifted from the kitchen. There was a slight hiss in the way she said my name. “Can you come in here, please?”
I wanted to just go to my room, but that would be rude. If I was leaving in a few months, I’d just ignore the command. But I had to live here for... I wasn’t sure how long. I threw my shoulders back and strode into the kitchen. Mom sat at the table, a pile of bills beside her. Her pen was poised over her checkbook.
“Sit,” she said without looking at me.
I didn’t. Instead, I walked toward the fridge and took out a diet soda. Then I sat down. Mom stared at me as I opened the can and took a sip.
“I have to be at work at seven,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because that’s when my shift starts.” I was being a brat, but I was tired. The conversation with Iris had worn me down. It had a definite ending to our friendship.
Mom closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, a move I had done earlier. Funny how we pick up our parents’ habits.
“I’m working at Mountain View Resort now. On my days off from the show,” I said, hoping this added bit of information would help.
She laid the bills in front of me. “Did you pay these?”
“Yes.” There wasn’t any point in lying. She already knew. Why wait so long to ask me? I didn’t care. It didn’t even matter.
“Why?”
“Because they needed to be paid. They were final notices.” The desperation in my voice was unmistakable. “You needed help, Mom. I helped.”
Mom put her hand over mine. “Thank you. But you didn’t have to do that. I would’ve found a way.”
“I had the money, Mom. I didn’t... I didn’t want...” The emotional toll of the night broke me. I put my head on my arm and sobbed. Mom squeezed my hand.
“Cameron, I want you to have your life,” she said softly. “You can’t stay here forever.”
“I can’t let you guys go homeless, either.” I pulled my hand away. “It doesn’t matter now.” I stood from the chair. “I did what needed to be done, Mom. I don’t regret it.” Much. “I’ll start saving again, but I’m going to give you some of my paychecks for bills, too. We’ll both get back on our feet together.”
Mom wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand. “I don’t want you to give up your dreams, honey.”
You did. “I’m not going to. I’m just changing how I reach them.”
I left the kitchen and headed toward my room. The shades were closed. I opened them to let in the sunlight in a few hours to help me get up. My bed was calling my name. I fell into it, but I couldn’t fall asleep. Dylan’s face filled my mind. Every time I saw him, my heart ached.
I must have fallen asleep eventually, because the sun and my alarm woke me from dreams of Nashville and Dylan Walker.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I pulled an extra shift on Wednesday, leaving the resort in time to get to the theater for a sound check. Unfortunately, that left me no time to shower. It was a long walk from point A to point B, giving me more stench. I felt gross and grimy when I walked backstage.
“You run a marathon?” George, the security guard at the back door, asked.
“Funny,” I said over my shoulder. In reality, I might as well have. Sweat drenched my shirt, darkening my Mountain Resort polo from a mint green to a dark forest.
Everyone was heading for the stage to do the sound check when I made it to the dressing room. Crystal wrinkled her nose when I hurried past her.
“There’s some Febreeze on my table,” she said, spinning in a circle. “Hurry up. He’s in a mood.”
Great. I ran into the dressing room, dropped my bag, and sprayed my clothes down with the fresh smell. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped. I pulled the ponytail holder out of my hair, fluffing it with fingers as I rushed to the stage.
And slammed straight into Hank’s slouched back.
He turned to glare at me, then a wicked gleam flinted in his eyes. “Cami, the whore who broke my son’s heart. I warned him, but he didn’t listen. Why’d you do it? My guess is you realized he didn’t have any money. Well, no real money anyway. Or that Dylan couldn’t help your career? That’s my second guess. Maybe it was a combination of both. So which was it?”
I swallowed back the bile building in my throat. “You want the truth?”
“That would be nice for a change.” He sneered.
“I broke up with Dylan because I have to stay here. He needs to go back to L.A. It has nothing to do with money or any career choices.” I shook my head, fighting off the emotional downfall that was trying to take over me. “I stand on my own two feet. Nobody’s going to carry me, Hank. If... when I leave here, it will be with my own money and my own way. Not on someone else dime. If that’s not a good enough reason for you, then fuck off.”
He laughed as I pushed by him and rushed onto the stage. Dylan scrunched his eyebrows, but I didn’t even acknowledge him. I couldn’t. Crystal reached out and squeezed my hand when I took my spot beside her. I squeezed back and put on a fake smile. Hank strode onstage, a huge
