Page 5 of Sing Your Secrets
“He wants a baby.”
“That’s great. You’ve always wanted kids, right?” I tilt my head not understanding her solemn expression. Isn’t that what married couples do? Love, marriage, babies.
“I just don’t think I’m ready.”
“Tell him that.” I grab a cube of cantaloupe and take a juicy bite. “You’re twenty-five. You’re old enough to have a baby, but young enough to not be ready. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“He’s thirty-seven. Even if we got pregnant right away, he’d still be nearing sixty when his kid graduates from high school. How is it fair to make him wait?”
“Is it fair to rush yourself?”
“I feel like being a mom will be a lot and I never really had a chance to chase my dreams.”
I blink at her with mock enthusiasm. “And what kind of dreams does an art history major have?”
“Hey!” she exclaims. Pointing her finger at me she continues. “Art collection is a serious business. But that’s not even what I’m talking about. I wanted to travel. I at least wanted to see the Louvre and Van Gogh museums before children, but Law works so much. He makes all this money, and we can’t actually do anything with it except invest in random things. My greatest accomplishment of the past three years is finally decorating this house.”
“Your house is massive. That’s a big accomplishment.”
She shakes her head in annoyance at my dismissiveness. “My point is, at least you were brave enough to step out of the box. I’m all tangled up in my safety net.”
I lean against the counter and level a stare at Sienna. “You picked love. Love is not a safety net. And I’m glad you didn’t end up like me. College dropout and wannabe singer is not exactly attractive on a resume.”
She narrows her eyes. “Speaking of love…”
“What?”
Her eyes pop open in response as her brows raise so high, they may fly off her forehead. Her blue eyes look crazed, but she doesn’t elaborate.
“What?” I ask again.
“I’m going to come right out and say it—no slutty, shallow groupies are welcome in my home.” Sienna huffs. “Sorry.”
“Groupies? Do you think I’m someone else?”
“I know the kind of company you keep.”
I snort, evading a direct omission. I was bartending at a club in L.A. for almost sixty hours a week. What kind of girls did Sienna expect me to meet? “Your home is safe. You know what groupies don’t like?” I ask as Sienna tilts her head to the side. “Broke guys.”
“Well, now I feel like an ass.” She taps the kitchen island between us making a muffled thud, thud. “Miles, you’re too hard on yourself. We’re just in tough times.”
I look around her fancy-ass kitchen. “Yeah…tough times.”
“Tough times to have what you want and be what you want. Do you think Law wanted to go into wealth management? He wanted to be a math teacher and work with kids. But he also wanted to buy his future wife a house like this one someday. I’m just saying”—she grabs the syrup—“you’re trying to have both. It’s brave.”
“Or stupid,” I emphasize. I watch her bright eyes, which are almost covered by her long dark bangs, pool with concern. “I need something to change, Sienna. I can’t keep going like this. All I’ve heard for years now is ‘no.’ I don’t have one friend who isn’t fair-weather. The women I meet are gold-diggers and they’re shallow. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, but I need to get my shit straight before I head back to L.A.”
“Why head back?” She uses her fork to cut her waffles into neat squares, the way you’d prepare a plate for a child. “You know what I think?” She takes a big bite and then says through a mouthful, “L.A. is the problem.”
“L.A. is the land of opportunity. If you’re going to be somebody or meet somebody major—it’s there.”
“When you used to sing in Denver you were happy. You sang like you loved to do it. Ever since this MiLo character showed up—”
“Hey, easy now. I was advised to choose a performer name—”
“You were advised to do a lot of stuff. None of which is making you happy. Stay here. Sing here in Denver. Be with family and your real friends. Just be Miles. He’s a good guy. Eventually, it always works out for good guys.”
I give her a half-baked smile. I think reality hits harder for good guys. When you go into the game humble and hard-working it’s a little surprising when you find out the industry isn’t fair. Making it is just luck and lotteries. Clearly, the odds are against me.