Starfire(45)

I didn’t know what to make of that, but my face sure didn’t care for it, and I found myself scowling.

“You inspired our best song yet,” he said. “Shake Your Peaches is about love and confidence. We’re all major fans of yours, and our drums player Lester constantly brags about being your cousin’s cousin.”

I shoved the card into my pocket, no longer scowling, but not feeling entirely comfortable. “I’m just a regular person.”

“Sure, we all are. But you represent an idea that’s long overdue—that everyone has a beauty, and not just cookie-cutter plastic pop stars. I swear there’s a factory somewhere that grows them in vats, with their perfect hair and their cliched song lyrics. But we sure showed them, because we’re all going to be in Vanity Fair!”

“That’s right!” I’d almost forgotten about the photo shoot from several weeks ago—the promo for Dalton’s indie movie. “I hope the pictures turn out.”

The stand-up bass player grinned and pulled out his phone. “Some preview shots are online already, and they’re hysterical.”

He showed me a photo, and the shot was so stunning, I had to try hard to convince myself the gorgeously curvy blonde was me. I was dancing with Charlie (the guy who played Dalton’s brother in the indie movie), while the seven-man band played amidst bales of hay. The second photo in the series showed three actors in teddy bear costumes attacking the set and terrorizing everyone.

In light of the previous night’s horror, the fake bears didn’t seem so amusing to me, personally, but the double-page shots were gorgeous.

“You should go on tour with us,” the man said.

I laughed. “I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we, but we don’t let it stop us.”

“Don’t lie! You guys are amazing.”

His cheeks reddened and he chanted, “I will take compliments. I will take compliments.”

We both laughed over the oddities of being in the public eye, and I eventually got my lunch order and rushed back to work.

I tried to lose myself in the routine, and pretend that the day was no different than any other Friday, but it was different.

On Saturday morning, I had a date lined up with Dalton Deangelo, and, as far as I knew, we’d be getting married for the benefit of the press.

Everything was happening so quickly, and I still hadn’t told anyone. I hadn’t even looked at the engagement ring. Part of me believed that if I ignored the issue, it would just go away. (I think we all know how well that worked out with my unplanned pregnancy.)

~

I got home after work to an empty house, because Shayla was working late. Usually, if I didn’t have Friday night plans with friends, I’d have dinner with my family, but my mother had messaged that she was canning pickles from the garden, so the boys were going out for a boys’ night. I thought about joining her to help with canning, but my mother can get a little intense about her brines.

Alone in the empty house, I downloaded and listened to Shake Your Peaches while I broke out the adult beverages. What goes best with shots of vodka? Beer. Also, Hot Pockets, Philly Cheese Steak flavor, with a side of sour cream.

“Happy bachelorette party!” I told myself as I prepared the plate.

Me and my party favors danced all the way up to my room, where I busted out the laptop and started shopping. There were so many great sales on! And free shipping! I got genuinely excited for Future Peaches, who was going to get so many amazing things delivered… if only I could click the checkout button.

“This has never happened before,” I told my laptop, and it was the truth. My finger went limp when it was time to finish the business. I couldn’t commit to a single internet order. Not even one pair of rainbow toe socks, half price.

My laptop was put to bed unsatisfied.

I had a few more shots of vodka, thinking that would help, but the booze only enhanced the feelings I was already having—feelings of fear and uncertainty.

I put my head down on my pillow to rest for a minute, since it was barely ten o’clock. Sleep quickly took me in its padded-walls embrace. Secure in sleep’s straight jacket, I dreamed of dogs and bears at a picnic, laughing at me as I ran around catching ripe fruit, falling from the sky, in the folds of my skirt. I twirled, and the white skirt expanded all around me, turning the whole world into lace.

The clouds in the sky spelled out one word. Love.

The only thing that mattered was love.

~

Vern arrived to pick me up precisely at six in the morning, as arranged.

I’d been awake since five, and was showered and ready to go, my overnight bag packed. I had a slight hangover from the night before, but luckily I’d fallen asleep before I could do too much harm to myself or my credit card.