Restless Heart, page 15
“She looks amazing, doesn’t she, Daddy? Between the haircut and the makeup and the new clothes . . . I can’t remember when I last saw her in a pair of jeans that didn’t have elastic at the waist. And she bought five styles!” Grace held her palm up and wiggled her thumb and fingers.
“I seriously thought she was a friend of yours,” he said at last, to Grace.
For some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to address Sara directly.
“It’s amazing what a new hairstyle can do, and Mia showed Mom how to apply makeup in shades that suit the new hair color.”
John just nodded, taking it in.
She looked like the old Sara—the one he’d known decades ago; the girl whose hair and clothes were feminine and flowing, much like her personality. That Sara wore mascara and lipstick, and bangles on her wrists—and had fresh flowers in her hair on their wedding day.
She’d been even more beautiful and radiant during her pregnancy with Destiny.
But then—at his insistence—her appearance began to change. Gone were the long skirts and bright colors, and she rarely wore makeup. He knew why.
He didn’t want her to stand out. He wanted her to blend in. She had dutifully transformed herself into the wife of an officer—pretty, but in a much more understated way that didn’t draw attention.
“I don’t know about you, Mom, but I’m going to take a nap,” Grace announced. “You wore me out, but I truly had fun today, and you look fantastic.”
Sara smiled. “Thanks, Gracie.”
“Don’t let me sleep for more than an hour.”
Grace grabbed a couple of bags—leaving the vast majority behind—and left the room.
John cleared his throat and said at last, “You do.”
Sara looked at him in surprise. “What?”
“You do look fantastic.”
“Really?”
He nodded fervently. “The blond becomes you, Sara, and I love the way it frames your face.”
“Thank you,” she said softly, and added, “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I have my moments,” he said with a grin—then eyed the shiny pink Victoria’s Secret bag at her feet with interest. “Is that yours?”
“Sure is.”
“What’s in it?”
“Don’t ask,” she teased. “Let’s just say there might be a Playtex 18-Hour Bra burning tonight.”
“I’m not sure what that is, but I bet it doesn’t have any lace—and I’m betting whatever’s in that bag just might.”
Sara laughed.
“You’re blushing.”
“Am I?”
He nodded and sat on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. She stood, crossed the room, and sat down—close enough for John to drape his arm around her, just like old times.
“That feels good,” she said. “I’m plumb wore out. The girls ran me ragged.”
That reminded him. “Where’s Destiny?”
“Getting dressed, and then Seth is going to drive her over to get warmed up for tonight.”
Tonight. The concert.
John immediately deflated.
“I hope you’ve changed your mind about coming.”
“I haven’t.”
She promptly slid out from beneath his arm and stood.
“Don’t let this come between us.”
“Destiny’s career isn’t the only thing that’s come between us, John.” She looked at him with accusing eyes that made guilt settle like a lead ball in his gut. “But since we’re on the subject—she’s an adult and this is the path she’s chosen. You need to let her be who she wants to be and not who you want her to be.”
“The odds are stacked against her, even now. Be realistic.”
She put her hands on her hips and looked him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to be realistic! I want to dream with her. Support her. Shower her with praise and encouragement. Like I should have been doing all along!” She hesitated, then said with quiet conviction, “Like you should have been doing all along.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“Oh, heaven forbid!” She raised her chin with defiance. “Well, guess what? The days are over when you can tell me what to do. For once this isn’t all about you.”
He, too, was on his feet, facing her, cold, hard fear pounding at his temples. “What are you saying, Sara?”
She blinked at him, and he wondered for a moment if she even knew. Then she said quietly, “I’m tired of being everything you want me to be and not being myself. It’s your world and I’m just living in it.”
“What the hell does that mean?” he growled, even though down deep he knew.
“Figure it out.” She left the room, and a moment later slammed the door to the guest room.
John started to follow her down the hallway leading to the four bedrooms and two baths. Lining the walls were framed pictures beginning with their wedding and progressing over the years.
Something made him stop and look at them. At Sara. At photos of their engagement, and their wedding, and their young family . . .
Sara had been so pretty, so sweet. He could never quite get over why a girl like her had fallen for a guy like him in the first place. Every time he had left her for months on end, he worried that she would get tired of him being gone; that someone better would come along and sweep her off her feet. Someone more deserving than him.
Looking at the old photos, remembering what it had been like, John shook his head. There was a stark difference between the early pictures and the later ones—particularly at the girls’ graduations. Sara was still smiling, but John could see that some of the life had been sucked out of her.
Shaken, he turned away.
“Still . . . I don’t deserve this treatment,” he grumbled under his breath, and stomped down the hallway to the master bathroom. He wanted to slam the door, but controlled his anger.
He ran the water, stripped off his clothes, stepped into the stall, and stayed there for a long time.
Though the hot water eased his aches and pains, he tasted salt on his tongue.
Crying had always gotten a backhand from his father, and he had learned early in life to control his emotions.
His throat closed up now, and he refused to let tears flow.
“Destiny, you still in there?” Seth knocked on the closed bedroom door.
“Sure am.”
“Can I come in?”
“Not yet. I’m getting dressed.”
“Hey, don’t be shy. It’s just me. I’ve seen it all.”
“I’m not being shy,” Destiny answered. “I’m trying to focus, and I know what’ll happen if I let you in here. This time, I can’t let you make me late.”
Seth had to grin, remembering this morning. He drifted back over to the couch and looked at Mike, who was lying on the rug.
“She’s gonna be late for her own concert, and this time, it won’t even be my fault.”
Mike wagged his tail. Shaking his head, Seth hummed “Waitin’ on a Woman.”
The bedroom door creaked open. “Seth, have you seen my red heels?”
“I put ’em in the closet so I wouldn’t keep tripping over ’em. I thought you were going to wear boots.”
“No, I was just yessing Grace. I’m wearing my favorite shoes!”
The door closed again.
“It’s her night,” Seth told Mike. “If she wants to wear the red shoes, then she should wear the red shoes, right?”
Mike raised one eyelid, looked at him, and lowered it again.
“I know, I could use a nap myself.”
He went back to humming until at last the bedroom door opened and footsteps tapped down the hall.
“What do you think?” Destiny asked.
Seth’s heart caught in his throat.
She looked absolutely stunning.
Her hair, misted with sparkles, was piled high on her head with soft curls escaping to frame her face and kiss her neck. She wore snug-fitting jeans, a simple yet sophisticated midnight blue V-neck shirt trimmed in silver piping, a heart pendant at her throat, and chunky cuffs on both wrists.
“Earth to Seth,” she said.
“Oh . . . uh . . .” He cleared his throat and then had to ask, “Um, what was the question again?”
“How do I look?”
“Incredible. The wait was worth it.”
“You don’t think the shoes are wrong?”
He flicked his gaze to her feet. “I’m no fashion expert, but in my opinion they give the jeans a real dressed-up touch.”
“Nicely said, for a guy!” She glanced down at her watch. “I need to grab my guitar and hightail it down to the stage. Sure you don’t mind driving me?”
“What, are you kidding? It’s an honor.”
He grabbed his keys as Destiny left the room, returning a moment later with her guitar case in tow.
“Wow, Seth . . .” Her smile trembled a little. “This is going to be quite a night, isn’t it?”
Seth gave her shoulders a squeeze. “It sure is. And I’ll be right there in the front row.”
“Thanks. It means the world to me to have you there.”
Outside, the sun was dipping lower in the sky and the orange glow glinted off her hair. Seth admired the straight set of her back and her determined step as she headed toward his car.
But he had seen her vulnerable side, and it had touched him deeply. How he wished he could gather her in his arms and show her the love and tenderness he was feeling right now.
Instead, he put her guitar in the back cargo, opened the passenger door, and looked at her. “Ready?”
“I was born ready,” she assured him. “Let’s go.”
“Well, now, don’t you just look amazing!” Amy Dale, Destiny’s A and R rep, breezed into the makeshift room with an airy smile.
“Thanks,” Destiny said, standing before the lone full-length mirror, examining her reflection. Her eyes seemed enormous, and not just because of Mia’s expert makeup application.
She’d snuck a peek outside a few minutes ago, and the town square was jammed. She’d spotted her mother right there in the front row, in special seats reserved for her family—but the seat beside her had been empty.
“Hey, there, Ms. Hart, you need to look like you believe in your very sexy self!” Amy demanded with an arch of one thin eyebrow.
Destiny tossed a cascade of curls over her shoulder, sending a flurry of sprayed-on sparkles—also courtesy of Mia—fluttering to the floor. “Oh, you know I’m bringing sexy back,” she said in a sultry tone and sucked in her cheeks.
“That’s more like it! Now give me a little hip action while you’re at it. Shake it like a salt shaker!”
Destiny gave her hips a good wiggle and tried not to laugh.
“Perfect. Now do just that while you’re out onstage, and we’ll be in business. So listen—”
“Okay, let’s give Destiny a few minutes of quiet time before she goes onstage!” Miranda Shepherd announced, breezing into the room wearing her no-nonsense don’t-argue-with-me expression.
She was trailed by Cassie Cook, who was directing the music video.
“I just want to remind her of a few things for the video footage, Miranda, and then I’ll be out of your hair,” Cassie said, and turned back to Destiny. “Make sure you try to hit your marks on the stage. The cameras are set up to get the best angles from there. ‘Restless Heart’ is the song we’re going to focus on, but we’ll film the whole performance.”
Destiny nodded and tried not to panic.
“Remember what I said about expression, too. We need energy with a sexy edge. Vamp it up, okay?”
“Gotcha.”
“Fantastic. Just forget about the cameras and have fun with it, okay?”
“No problem,” Destiny replied with more conviction than she was feeling.
Forget about the cameras, remember to hit the marks . . .
It all seemed so complicated and contradictory.
And Amy had her share of advice as well.
Finally, Miranda cleared her throat and gave them both a polite but pointed look. “Um, guys?”
“Okay, okay,” Cassie said.
“Break a leg, girlfriend!” Amy called over her shoulder and wiggled her fingers in the air.
The two of them sashayed out the door . . . just as Grace slipped in.
“Destiny, people are going nuts out there. It’s awesome. I just saw Cooper and Annie, and—”
“Grace?”
Her sister blinked and spotted Miranda, who gave her a pointed look. “Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there. Hi, Miranda,” she said briefly, and turned back to Destiny.
“Is Daddy here, Grace?”
Her sister hesitated. “I didn’t see him, but like I said, the place is packed, and—”
“He’s not here.”
Grace met her gaze and said quietly, “No, he’s not.”
Destiny squared her shoulders and shook off her disappointment. Colonel Hart pretty much had the market cornered on stubbornness, and though she knew it was a childish notion, she realized something. One of the reasons she’d hoped so hard for success was to prove her worth to her father. She had him to thank for that—if nothing else.
“It’s okay,” she told Grace. “I didn’t think he’d come.”
“He still could show up.”
“He could,” Destiny said, feeling herself getting choked up, “but he won’t.”
“It’s all about the stubborn Hart pride,” Grace grumbled. “And I’m just as guilty. I can’t tell you how sorry I am that it took me this long to jump on board.”
“You were going to school!”
She lifted one shoulder. “I know, but still . . .”
“You’re here now,” Destiny said, “and that’s all that matters.”
“You know, I really believe that Daddy will come to his senses. Mom might just have to knock it into him, but she’s got a different attitude and I think she’s gonna do just that. Squash that Hart pride. Boom!”
She banged her fist on the wall, and the trailer shook.
Miranda, standing by, narrowed her eyes and exhaled an audible breath.
“I hope you’re right, Grace. I really miss him,” Destiny admitted with a little catch in her voice.
“Me too.” Grace patted Destiny’s hand. “But now that everything is coming together for you, don’t dwell on the hard stuff. You’ve got a show to put on.”
“What if I blow it?”
Grace turned on her stool to face her. “You won’t!”
“You don’t know that . . .”
“Just think, a whole team of experts has been grooming you for this! The creative team knows what they’re doing. All you needed was some spit and polish, and . . . well, a bit of glamour.”
“And you, Grace. I needed you. Thanks for all the positive energy.”
“No problem,” Grace said breezily, covering Destiny’s hand with hers and giving it a squeeze.
“Grace, I’m sorry”—Miranda stepped forward and made shooing motions with her hands—“but your sister needs some breathing room.”
“All right, all right.” Grace hugged Destiny. “I’m so proud of you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Sure you have. And it’s just the beginning.”
“She’s a dynamo,” Miranda commented as Grace left. “Must run in the family.”
Destiny smiled and nodded, thinking of her mother—and then of her father, and her smile faded.
“What’s the matter?” Miranda asked, watching her. “Stage fright?” she guessed, sparing Destiny an explanation about her father.
“I’m used to being onstage, but not in front of a hometown crowd.”
“That’s okay. Make those nerves work to your advantage. Harness them into energy.”
“I’ll try. I just—” Destiny broke off as Miranda’s cell phone rang.
She pulled it out and examined the caller ID window. “I have to take this,” she told Destiny. “I’ll be right back.”
Miranda left the room, and Destiny sighed. As always, she couldn’t quite shake the sadness that came with thoughts of her father.
“You look like a star, Destiny Hart.” At the sound of Seth’s voice, Destiny spun around and her breath caught in her throat. He looked incredibly handsome in a light blue polo shirt and khaki pants.
He held out a simple bouquet of wildflowers tied with a pink silk ribbon. “They’re hard to come by this time of year,” he said softly, “but nothing else would do. Wildflowers remind me of you. Untamed and beautiful.”
“Thank you, Seth.” She swallowed hard. “They’re perfect.”
Seth nodded his head toward the door. “There’s lots of excitement in the air out there. “Your band’s been warming up. They’re kick-ass. And the place is packed.”
Destiny put a hand to her stomach. “Everyone keeps telling me that.”
“You’re gonna go out there and kick some butt tonight.”
“Well said, Coach.” She tried to laugh, but it came out husky.
Seth took a step closer and lifted a lock of her hair. “I want to hug you, but I don’t want to mess anything up.” Instead he leaned in and brushed his lips ever so lightly against hers. It was a barely there kiss, but it rocked her to the core.
“I’m so proud of you,” he whispered softly, “and I want you to know that I l—”
“Destiny, I have—” Back, with her cell phone in hand, Miranda stopped short in the doorway.
Shaken, Destiny longed to beam her away so that she could hear whatever it was that Seth wanted her to know.
Was he going to say that he loves me?
“I’m Miranda Shepherd, Destiny’s manager. And you must be her boyfriend.”
“Seth Caldwell,” he said, and shook her hand as Destiny stood by mutely.
“It’s good to meet you, and I’m sorry to do this, but it’s time for Destiny to take the stage.”
“It’s okay.” Seth turned and took both of Destiny’s hands in his, giving them a hard squeeze. “Get on out there and knock ’em dead. I’ll see you after the show.”
She couldn’t quite keep the catch out of her voice. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
Destiny watched him walk away and then turned to Miranda. “Okay, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s get this party started.”
