Hold Me

“That’s nice.” Destiny did her best not to sound wistful. She knew that romantic love could work out for a limited few, but hadn’t seen it herself. Not up close.

“It does set a pretty high bar,” Madeline admitted. “I don’t want to make a mistake. My mom always told me she knew right away with my dad. That it was like a lightning bolt. He felt the same way about her. I’m still waiting. I swear, when I feel that lightning bolt, I’m going after the guy. I don’t care who he is.” She paused. “Unless he’s, you know, married. If that’s the case, I’ll have to become a nun or something.”

“Are you Catholic?”

Madeline grinned. “No, but that seems like a problem I can overcome, right?”

They laughed together. Shelby joined them and invited them both to lunch the following day. Destiny liked being included. This was different from the casual relationships she usually made on the job. Better.

She was also pleased that Madeline didn’t mention anything about Lacey and Jimmy Don. More drinks were delivered. She felt her tensions ease and knew she was feeling the false courage brought on by too much bourbon, but as she rarely indulged, she figured she was due.

Somewhere around ten, someone turned on the karaoke machine and people started singing. Kipling found his way back to her. They sat together in a booth, his arm around her.

She liked the feel of him next to her. A few couples were dancing to the songs. She wondered what he’d been like before the accident. Not physically. Obviously, he would have moved more easily. But emotionally. Had confronting first death and then later the fact that he might never walk again changed him? Or had he always been one of the good guys?

She heard the familiar opening of Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places” and turned to the stage. Sure enough Miles was up there preparing to launch into the only song he ever sang. Not that she minded hearing his version, it was what was going to happen when he was done.

“I should go,” she said, sliding out of the booth as she spoke.

Kipling followed her, grabbing her hand before she could make her escape. “Not so fast. It’s still early. Stay.”

It wasn’t him, she thought frantically. She was enjoying herself with Kipling. He was easy to be around. Even the personal questions didn’t bother her when he was the one doing the asking.

“It’s not you,” she said, aware of the song progressing and time running out. “It’s something else. I really have to go.”

“But we haven’t danced yet. Destiny, you can’t run out on me.”

“I’m not. There are things that—”

The song ended, and the applause began. Miles held the microphone. She didn’t have to see him to know he was grinning in anticipation.

“I know,” Miles said over the crowd. “Pretty damned good, huh? But if you think that was impressive, wait until you hear our next singer. Destiny, darlin’, where are you?”

She froze. Kipling looked confused.

“You sing in public?” he asked. “I thought you didn’t want people to know.”

“I don’t,” she whispered as the spotlights circled the room before finally landing on her. “Miles has done this to me before.”

“There you are,” Miles called. “Come on up, Destiny. Let’s have a song.”

She shook her head.

“Oh, she’s shy. Come on, everyone. Let’s give her some encouragement.”

Destiny felt people moving away from her. Making a path so she could get to the stage. Kipling stayed where he was, but she didn’t seem able to reach out to him. It was like a force greater than herself had sucked her in, and when she was spit out, she was onstage. She had no memory of walking there, yet the proof was irrefutable. Once again, she’d given in, and now she would have to sing.

Her mother would tell her that the need to perform was in her blood. That she could resist, but eventually she would find herself exactly where she was meant to be.

Miles handed her the microphone.

The second she took it, everyone cheered. Miles stepped up to the machine and scrolled through the songs. He paused on one, and she nodded. Might as well just go for it, she thought, as the familiar notes played.

The crowd went silent. The words scrolled onto the screen, but she didn’t need them. She still remembered sitting quietly while her mother wrote the song that was eventually to become her biggest hit.

“Accidentally Yours” had won Lacey a Grammy, along with a CMA Award for Single of the Year. She’d also scored as Female Vocalist of the Year.

The music surrounded Destiny as memories filled her. Her parents together. Her parents fighting. The tears and how scared she’d been.

The words to the song came without her thinking as she got lost in the melody. She sang from the heart—the only way she knew how. As if she were alone. So when she was done and people applauded, the sharp sound brought her back to reality with a bit of a thud.

She stared into the crowd, momentarily lost. She shoved the microphone into Miles’s hand and started for the stairs.

“More,” someone yelled. “Sing another song.”

She kept moving. When she reached the floor, she started for the closest exit. In this case, it happened to be the back door.

“Did you know she could sing like that?”

“Who is she?”

“...Lacey Mills and then they got a divorce.”

“My mom loves Jimmy Don. I wonder if she could get me an autograph.”