Being Kalli(56)

Me? I’m in nude stockings, heels and a dress for girls who don’t mind not breathing. It’s one of the only appropriate things I own for tonight, coming an inch above my knees, a built-in band just under my bust, and a sweetheart neckline with thin straps. I look sophisticated and like I’m in my twenties, not some trashy uni skank.

“Kalli!” Scout throws her arms around my neck and I squeeze her back. “I’m totally jealous. You look stunning and wow. You sounded similar, yet so much better than when you play at home.” She tilts her head back, looking up at the high ceiling. “I think it’s this building, too.”

“Shh. Thanks.”

Nate comes around and gives me a hug. I loosen in his arms to give him access to whatever he needs to do and slowly nestle into him. His hands are around my lower back, tracing swirls over the fabric.

He leans in, his scent sending my knees into a quivering mess hardly able to keep me up, so I throw my arm around the back of his neck for support, glad I have an excuse to do it. Nate’s chest expands against me. His hands tighten at my waist, unsaid reflection of his wanting.

In heels, my eye level is at his lips, and I can’t will myself to look up further for fear that I’m back to being the old Kalli, using my power of seduction to lure him in. It’s this weak body, jelly at his touch. I want his soul and mind this time, and I don’t want him uncontrolled, only full of lust.

Nate’s grips relaxes and rather than cup my cheeks, he slides his hands up my sides, soft enough that it’s like an imagined desire within me, rather than his actual touch.

Lowering his head, our lips line up and I touch his with mine, feathering them across. He lowers his head further and I bring mine up, settling my chin in the crook of his neck, him burying his face the same way to me.

Who knew that I could tremble between my legs, and feel my heart racing and be heated up all with the simple promise of trust, surrounding myself by just Nate.

“Kall Bell,” he says, lifting his head to whisper in my ear. “That was incredible. You had on that cute serious face and you were in your own zone, owning that stage. So proud.”

Nate cups my cheeks and holds me still as he lingers a kiss on my forehead.

“Okay, make out later. There’s catered food here, yeah?”

I start, accidently wriggling free of Nate’s grip. Shocked, I take in my surroundings and notice Scout with a sly smile on her face, her hand on her hip.

“Yes, Scout. Round that corner.”

Scout winks and takes off. I have the feeling she could have a full stomach and still would have left us.

As soon as we’re alone, I ask, “Is Mary here?”

Nate’s eyes wander in thought. “No, I can’t believe I didn’t notice. I was so focused on the dickhead Donovan turning up and wasting a spot meant for the other guys that I didn’t realise.”

Donovan’s name elicits no physical response as a different dread seeps into my thoughts. “Nothing? No message, no … nothing?”

Two months ago I’d have expected this of Mum. Promise to see my most important performance of the year and forget, instead high with Betsy at a scummy pub? Sure. Sounds exactly like her. However, after our heart-to-heart chats, how responsive and responsible she is, looking years younger since focusing on being here and not being dependent on substances to carry her through a day …

Not now. Not after everything.

Thump.

A thought hits me, stealing my breath.

I may know what’s happened if she’s not here, and it can’t be good. A lump blocks my throat, and it’s impossible to swallow, almost as hard to stand tall and happy for concert night, when my selfish info dump on her could be the cause for this no-show.

What would I do, cold turkey off drugs, if I’d realised all those years my daughter had had that happen to her?

Shit.

“Nate,” I say. I wipe down my face and my shoulders because everywhere is tingling. “This isn’t right. She said she’d be here.”

“Kall.” His voice is low, sad. “I really wanted her to be here too. And I’m shocked she couldn’t make it. But not surprised.”

“No, listen. Please. Something’s probably gone wrong.”

“What if it hasn’t?”

“I …” I take a deep breath and force the words out. “We had a chat. I ended up hinting at what He did to me.” I open my mouth because I have to explain. My breath staggers instead, and not only do no words come out, but I start sucking in, sucking in, unable to release the air. My head feels like an over-pumped balloon.

“Shh,” Nate whispers, rubbing my back. “Don’t underestimate her, if she’s late for whatever reason, she’d want you to play—you know that. It’s a forty-minute drive home, forty back. You won’t make your performance. You are incredible. I won’t let you miss this. Stop worrying about her and do this for you.”