Page 34 of Making the Save

“Yep.”

He headed for the guest room where he’d slept last night and I sat on the bed thinking about what kind of rules I wanted for my…marriage?

Rule number one: More kissing.

Actually, scratch that. I had to remember this was the opposite of romantic. It was possibly my career on the line, so it was all business from here on out. I knew that more than anyone.

Otherwise I might let my heart get involved.

Heart, you hear me? Stay out of my love life.

Hold on a second. Hmmm… was that…a lyric?

I hummed a little melody and sang the line again. Not bad. Not great. I needed my guitar. I left my bedroom for the living room to get my beat-up Yamaha acoustic that came with me out of the trailer park.

Beatrice standing in my kitchen scared the bejeezus out of me.

“What are you doing back here?” I cried, my heart thumping in my chest. “I thought you left with Tyler.”

“I brought some groceries and I’m putting together a little lunch.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I said. It always made me nervous when she did things outside of the assistant job description. I didn’t want her to get resentful and leave me. “I don’t pay you to be my cook.”

“It’s chicken salad sandwiches and some fruit. You always need to be feeding a man that size, before he gets hungry and takes a bite out of you,” she said with a wink. “Now quickly, while I have you alone, come sit with me.”

“Tyler left?”

“He said he can’t help you anymore and to call him when you grow a brain.”

“He is mean, isn’t he?”

“He really is.”

I put up with it because people told me he was the best and I needed the best.

Beatrice sat on the edge of the couch, her back straight and her hands folded together in her lap. I sat against the arm rest and folded my legs underneath me like a pretzel. I eyed my guitars and hoped I wouldn’t forget that little melody.

Music used to come to me all the time. A constant soundtrack. But after the incident in Paris, everything was tentative. Timid. It wasn’t there all the time and when it showed up, it wasn’t there the way it used to be. It was like I’d lost a part of myself. Then my last album was written in a panic. It was all fear and cliché. There was a reason it wasn’t nominated for anything.

“Now,” Beatrice said. “What is really going on in this house?”

“We’re going to stay married,” I announced. “He said he’s got nothing else going on, so why not?”

“Why not indeed,” Beatrice said, her eyes narrowed. “And you? How do you feel?”

“I don’t know,” I said, but I was smiling. I was smiling like a teenager with a crush. I tried to force myself not to smile, but I ended up smiling harder. “I guess, it’s nice to have someone fight for me for a change, you know? Is that selfish? Probably.”

“It only seems selfish because no one has ever done that for you,” she said, and she took a deep breath and put on her sternI mean businessface. A face that never bode well for me.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m going to say this, and it won’t be comfortable for you to hear, but it needs to be said. If you decide to stay married for any length of time, for appearances or not, then you need to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

She coughed gently. “About the nature of your previous relationships.”

“Why?”