Starr’s mouth dropped open. “Really? You think she’d do that with me?”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you write with her?”
“We end up fighting too much.”
And every songwriting session ended with Lacey telling her that she’d wasted her life and her talent. That she would never feel fulfilled if she didn’t honor her gifts. Which wasn’t ever anything Destiny wanted to talk about.
Funny how Kipling had said nearly the same thing, only that had been easier to hear. Maybe because of what he’d been through. And because she trusted him. He couldn’t do what he most loved because of the accident. She knew that was hard for him, but he’d accepted the inevitable and got on with his life.
She’d tried to do the same. At least the getting on with her life part.
“Lacey wants me to be like her,” she added. “I guess it’s a mom thing. But it’s never going to happen.”
Starr nodded, then rested her chin on her knees. “My mom used to say I was just like her. Only I never wanted to be. You know, the drugs and everything. I don’t want that.”
“Do you worry about it?” Destiny asked.
“I don’t know. Sometimes. I don’t want to take drugs and have that be the only thing that’s important. I want to sing and write music. I want to be proud of myself.”
Destiny shifted so she could pull her close. “I hope you already are. You’re a great person, and I’m proud you’re my sister.”
“Thanks. I love you, too.”
Her sister said something else, but Destiny only nodded. She needed a second to let the words sink in. Because they made everything worth it. They were sisters of the heart, and that was never going to change.
* * *
DESTINY KNEW THE foolishness of avoiding the inevitable, so two nights later she dropped Starr off at Abby’s, swung by Angelo’s for takeout then returned home to spend an evening alone with her mother.
Lacey sat crossed-legged on the living room floor with the contents of several shopping bags spread out around her. Her hair was loose, her shirt embellished and her jeans tight. Lacey had always understood the importance of being true to herself.
“No store went untouched,” Destiny said as she took in the Fool’s Gold T-shirts, key chains and mugs, along with stacks of clothing, shoes and books.
Lacey laughed and reached for her martini. “I like to support the local economy. There’s a clothing store called Paper Moon with some pretty snazzy things. I spent a fortune there. The rest of it is just for fun.” She sniffed. “That smells wonderful. What did you bring us?”
“Lasagna and garlic bread. A salad so we can pretend we’re being healthy.”
“You’re my favorite oldest child. Did you know that?”
Lacey rose gracefully, the martini she held not spilling a drop. She crossed to Destiny and hugged her tight, then released her and went to the kitchen.
“When does Starr get home?”
“She’s staying with a friend. It’s just us tonight.”
Her mother laughed. “My favorite way to spend an evening. You’re so sweet to me, hon. I’m starving and craving some girl time.”
Destiny set the bag of takeout on the counter, then washed her hands before setting the table.
“Want one?” her mother asked, pulling a pitcher of martinis out of the refrigerator.
“No, thanks.”
While Lacey was visiting, Destiny would drink water. Because she knew her mother was imbibing for two. Or possibly twenty. She supposed she had the same concerns that Starr did. There were parts of her mother’s personality she didn’t want to embrace, although Destiny knew she was just as guilty of using alcohol as a crutch. That night at The Man Cave, she’d needed the Long Island Iced Tea to allow herself to perform. Something she should probably discuss with her therapist.
Her mother would tell her that singing in front of an audience was in her blood. It wasn’t that she got nervous, she thought as she put plates and flatware on the table then collected the food. It was more about giving herself permission.
Lacey sat down, and Destiny passed her the lasagna. She inhaled deeply. “Smells delicious. Remember when I used to make you mac and cheese? From a box, of course. That’s as much as I could cook. I wasn’t a traditional mother.”
“You wouldn’t be Lacey Mills if you were.”
“And I want to be Lacey Mills.”
“My mom, the superstar,” Destiny murmured, thinking how her parents had both awed and frustrated her when she’d been little. She supposed they still did.
On the other hand, she’d gone in a completely different direction, basically turning her back on their lifestyles. They’d both made it clear they wanted her to go into the family business, and she hadn’t.
“Are you disappointed in me?” Destiny asked before she could stop herself. Because Lacey would be nothing if not honest.
“What? No. Don’t be silly. You’re my daughter, Destiny. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom. But that’s not what I asked. I’m not like you.”
Her mother put down her fork. “If you’re talking about the music, then I would have liked you to be more like me. We could have toured together. We would have had so much fun. It gets lonely so it’s nice to have a friend along. But, honey, you have to do what’s right for you.”
Lacey picked up her martini and took a sip. “It’s our fault. I see that now. When you were little, we dragged you all over the place. Some children would have thrived in the chaos, but not you. You always liked a routine. Being settled. When my mama told me she was going to take you, well, I cried for a week. But I knew it was the right thing to do.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t you write with her?”
“We end up fighting too much.”
And every songwriting session ended with Lacey telling her that she’d wasted her life and her talent. That she would never feel fulfilled if she didn’t honor her gifts. Which wasn’t ever anything Destiny wanted to talk about.
Funny how Kipling had said nearly the same thing, only that had been easier to hear. Maybe because of what he’d been through. And because she trusted him. He couldn’t do what he most loved because of the accident. She knew that was hard for him, but he’d accepted the inevitable and got on with his life.
She’d tried to do the same. At least the getting on with her life part.
“Lacey wants me to be like her,” she added. “I guess it’s a mom thing. But it’s never going to happen.”
Starr nodded, then rested her chin on her knees. “My mom used to say I was just like her. Only I never wanted to be. You know, the drugs and everything. I don’t want that.”
“Do you worry about it?” Destiny asked.
“I don’t know. Sometimes. I don’t want to take drugs and have that be the only thing that’s important. I want to sing and write music. I want to be proud of myself.”
Destiny shifted so she could pull her close. “I hope you already are. You’re a great person, and I’m proud you’re my sister.”
“Thanks. I love you, too.”
Her sister said something else, but Destiny only nodded. She needed a second to let the words sink in. Because they made everything worth it. They were sisters of the heart, and that was never going to change.
* * *
DESTINY KNEW THE foolishness of avoiding the inevitable, so two nights later she dropped Starr off at Abby’s, swung by Angelo’s for takeout then returned home to spend an evening alone with her mother.
Lacey sat crossed-legged on the living room floor with the contents of several shopping bags spread out around her. Her hair was loose, her shirt embellished and her jeans tight. Lacey had always understood the importance of being true to herself.
“No store went untouched,” Destiny said as she took in the Fool’s Gold T-shirts, key chains and mugs, along with stacks of clothing, shoes and books.
Lacey laughed and reached for her martini. “I like to support the local economy. There’s a clothing store called Paper Moon with some pretty snazzy things. I spent a fortune there. The rest of it is just for fun.” She sniffed. “That smells wonderful. What did you bring us?”
“Lasagna and garlic bread. A salad so we can pretend we’re being healthy.”
“You’re my favorite oldest child. Did you know that?”
Lacey rose gracefully, the martini she held not spilling a drop. She crossed to Destiny and hugged her tight, then released her and went to the kitchen.
“When does Starr get home?”
“She’s staying with a friend. It’s just us tonight.”
Her mother laughed. “My favorite way to spend an evening. You’re so sweet to me, hon. I’m starving and craving some girl time.”
Destiny set the bag of takeout on the counter, then washed her hands before setting the table.
“Want one?” her mother asked, pulling a pitcher of martinis out of the refrigerator.
“No, thanks.”
While Lacey was visiting, Destiny would drink water. Because she knew her mother was imbibing for two. Or possibly twenty. She supposed she had the same concerns that Starr did. There were parts of her mother’s personality she didn’t want to embrace, although Destiny knew she was just as guilty of using alcohol as a crutch. That night at The Man Cave, she’d needed the Long Island Iced Tea to allow herself to perform. Something she should probably discuss with her therapist.
Her mother would tell her that singing in front of an audience was in her blood. It wasn’t that she got nervous, she thought as she put plates and flatware on the table then collected the food. It was more about giving herself permission.
Lacey sat down, and Destiny passed her the lasagna. She inhaled deeply. “Smells delicious. Remember when I used to make you mac and cheese? From a box, of course. That’s as much as I could cook. I wasn’t a traditional mother.”
“You wouldn’t be Lacey Mills if you were.”
“And I want to be Lacey Mills.”
“My mom, the superstar,” Destiny murmured, thinking how her parents had both awed and frustrated her when she’d been little. She supposed they still did.
On the other hand, she’d gone in a completely different direction, basically turning her back on their lifestyles. They’d both made it clear they wanted her to go into the family business, and she hadn’t.
“Are you disappointed in me?” Destiny asked before she could stop herself. Because Lacey would be nothing if not honest.
“What? No. Don’t be silly. You’re my daughter, Destiny. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mom. But that’s not what I asked. I’m not like you.”
Her mother put down her fork. “If you’re talking about the music, then I would have liked you to be more like me. We could have toured together. We would have had so much fun. It gets lonely so it’s nice to have a friend along. But, honey, you have to do what’s right for you.”
Lacey picked up her martini and took a sip. “It’s our fault. I see that now. When you were little, we dragged you all over the place. Some children would have thrived in the chaos, but not you. You always liked a routine. Being settled. When my mama told me she was going to take you, well, I cried for a week. But I knew it was the right thing to do.”
