There are a few things I can do without in my life. One of them is Los Angeles traffic. The constant bumper-to-bumper, horn-honking congestion is what keeps me grounded in Tennessee. Besides, it’s home. I never really understood what Iris loved so much about this area, but could grasp that she needed a change. Living next to me, in my shadow and whatever else she threw at me when she left, had to be hard.

I was foolish to think that I could keep Zara free from the media and fans if we were wandering the streets of downtown together. It was dumb of me to bring her out, only days after her ex entered rehab. She’s very recognizable, especially among the younger crowd. I guess that’s the beauty of L.A. for me because no one knows who the hell I am unless I make myself known.

Pulling up the driveway, I shut the rental off and glance out the front window. I have every intention of putting this house on the market, to finally be done with it, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like I should keep it. If Stormy’s career flourishes, she’ll need a place to live or we will as a family when we have to come back here for her work.

The front door opens, and my mother stands there, resting against the doorjamb. As soon as I’m out and around the vehicle, she closes the door behind her. I can tell by the look on her face that she has news that I’m not going to like.

“Hey, Mama.” I pull her into a quick hug and kiss her on her cheek. She has been a rock for the girls and me, dropping everything to come out here and stay with them, to help me out so I could take Zara to Nashville. Of course, I failed to inform her that my relationship with Zara turned a page.

“You have news to share?”

I grimace and shake my head. It’s not that I don’t want to divulge what’s going on between us, it’s that I’m not entirely sure. Given the chance, I’ll stand proudly and tell everyone that Zara Phillips is my girlfriend, but is she? Does she do labels? Hell, I know I do, but her and I are different, and what I may think is the appropriate way to handle something may not be her way.

Granted, she doesn’t have the best examples. Her publicist is the epitome of the devil as far as I’m concerned, and mine… while I love Barb, her distaste for Zara is already wearing thin on me.

“Stormy is very upset,” my mother says. “You promised her that you and Zara were only friends and now people are telling Stormy that the only reason she got the lead in the video is because you’re sleeping with the lead singer, which honestly, I find laughable.”

“Why would that be so funny?”

“Because you’re you and she’s… we’ll she’s not what I expect to find on your arm, that’s all.”

“Looks don’t define a person, Ma.”

“I’m just sayin’ y’all are different, is all.” My mother fumbles through her words, trying to right the wrong she’s done. I pull her into my arms and give her a hug, letting her know that it’s okay.

“Here’s the deal,” I say, pausing to run my hand over my hair. “I like Zara, and she likes me. The few days that we’ve known each other, we’ve grown closer.”

“But Stormy?”

I look at the front door and wonder if she’s on the other side, listening in. I know I would be, but knowing my daughter, she’s probably sulking in her room or plotting my demise.

“Mama, Stormy’s career is her own just as my personal life is mine.”

She shakes her head. “She doesn’t see it like that.”

“Ma…” but my plea falls on deaf ears as she walks back into the house. Thankfully she doesn’t slam the door in my face, but walking into the house feels anything but welcoming.

“Daddy!” Willow screeches as soon as I step into the living room. She launches herself into my arms and hugs me tightly. I’ve gone months without seeing her when I was on tour, but knowing that she’s coming back home to live with me has made me miss her even more than before. “I’m all packed.”

“That’s good. We’re leavin' tonight.”

“I don’t want to go.” Stormy’s voice breaks the moment between Willow and I. I set her down and kiss her forehead.

“We’ve been through this, Stormy.”

“Well, that was before you decided to suck face with Zara. I mean, really, Daddy?” She turns down the hall and slams her bedroom door. I sigh and glance down at Willow who has a beaming smile on her face.

“Why are you smilin'?”

She shrugs. “I think Zara is pretty.”

“She is,” I say, agreeing instantly. I motion for Willow to sit on the couch so I can talk to her before I go see if I can fix things with Stormy. “How would you feel if Zara and I were more than friends?”

“Does she make you happy?”

I can’t help but smile. “She does. I have never met someone like her, and she really wants to get to know you and your sister.” I push a tendril of her blond hair behind her ear. More and more she’s trying to be like Stormy, growing up faster than she needs to be. It’s another reason I want both of them back in Nashville, so I can make sure they’re still acting their age and not this preconceived notion that fifteen is the new twenty-five. With Willow only being ten, I want her to experience everything a child should and then some.

“Will Zara be at the house when we get there?”

“Yeah,” I say with a small sigh. “Is that going to be okay?”

Willow nods eagerly. Her enthusiasm is great, but it makes me wonder how much time Iris spent with her or if she was left with a babysitter most of the time. I have to push those thoughts away though because there isn’t anything I can do about it if my suspicions are correct. It boils down to the fact that I made a mistake as their father when I let the girls come live with Iris in the first place.

“I’m going to go talk to your sister. Why don’t you double check your luggage and make sure you have everything you need. It’ll take the movers a bit of time to get everything sent to us.”

“Okay, Daddy,” she says, following me down the hall. I knock lightly on Stormy’s door and wait for her to answer. As much as I want to barge in and be the alpha dad, I can’t do that to her. I will never experience what she’s going through. I have both my parents, who are still married and happily in love. She’s been through a divorce, living thousands of miles away from one parent, and now her mother has died. My gut is screaming for me to get her into therapy.

She opens the door with a huff and teenage attitude. The scowl on her face must be painful. There is so much strain on her forehead to keep up the façade she has going on right now. I smile, trying to ease the tension that is building between us. The last thing I want is for this mole hole to turn into a mountain.

“May I come in?”

“You own the house, don’t you?”

Her snide remark has me biting the inside of my cheek. I could lash out, yell at her for being a brat, but that won’t solve anything. The inside of Stormy’s room is bare, with boxes piling along the walls. Some are marked for storage, while others are marked donation or bedroom. It warms me to know that she’s considering giving away some of her stuff.

“What do you want to do with your mother’s belongings?” I ask, studying the now empty corner that used to be dedicated to me. Seeing her bare wall where my poster used to hang hits me square in the chest. I won’t have a shrine in either of my daughter’s bedroom anymore because they’ll be home with me, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss seeing them.

“I thought that maybe we could come back once everyone is settled and the three of us could go through it.”

“That’s fine,” I tell her, agreeing that right now is probably not the best time. “I thought about sellin' the house, but am going to keep it. We’ll keep the house stocked for right now so that when we have to come back here for auditions and whatnot, we have a place to stay.”

The previous set scowl starts to ease up, but not by much. I know I have a long way to go until I can get a smile out of her. I move a few of her things over to her bed and sit on the edge. Stormy stands off to the side, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“About Zara… I know that I told you earlier this week that she and I were friends, and we are, but we’re also attracted to each other. We’re explorin' a relationship, Stormy.”

“But, Dad--”

“There are no buts, Stormy. We’re adults who have a lot of chemistry, and we like each other. I know it’s hard to take in because of your situation, but believe me when I tell you this—I never thought in a million years that I’d have anything in common with a woman like Zara.”

“But you do?” she asks.

I shake my head. “It’s different. Whereas I had everything in common with your mom, Zara and I are learnin' to adapt to each other. Up until we met, neither of us had any idea who the other person was. I’m country. She’s rock and roll. I’m quiet. She’s loud. Her fans are crazy. Mine are subdued.”

“She’s more punk than rock and roll,” Stormy says, cracking the death glare she’s been giving me with a quick smile.

“Right, see! I don’t even know her genre, but I do know that I like her and she likes me.”

“She’s married,” Stormy points out, causing me to hang my head. This is my biggest fear, and one that I haven’t admitted to anyone but myself. Her and her soon to be ex have a history, one that is deep. There isn’t anything holding Zara to me.

“I know, but they’re getting a divorce.” At least that is what I’m tellin' myself until Zara proves me wrong. I know she’s filed, but with Van disappearing into rehab that has put everything on hold. Still, there’s a part of that wonders what’s going to happen when he’s out, cured and wants Zara back. Where does that leave me or us?

Stormy finally decides to sit by me. Her shoulder touches me, and I take that as a sign she’s willing to forgive me. “Here’s the thing, Daddy. All the dancers think I bought my way into that lead and they’re pissed. They don’t understand that you didn’t know Zara until the day of the video shoot.”

“Baby girl, that is going to happen no matter what. If you get a lead in a play or get accepted to a school that is hard to get into, people are going to say you bought your way in because of me. Even as you make a name for yourself with your talent, which I might add is very impressive according to Zara, but everyone is going to say things were handed to you because of me.”

“That’s not fair though. I’ve worked hard.”

“I know you have, and I’ll never dispute that, but when you hear things like that or come across somethin' that upsets you, you can’t let it get to you. In every aspect of life, you need to have thick skin.”

“Easier said than done, Dad.”

“I know, and I’m sorry you had to find out about Zara and me like that. It wasn’t our intention.”

“I thought that by Willow and me moving home, it would just be us, and now she’s there.”

“I thought you liked her?”

“I do, but as Zara Phillips, lead singer of Reverend Sister but not my dad’s girlfriend or someone living in our house.”

I try to imagine myself in her shoes and can easily see where she’s coming from. I can’t exactly tell Zara to leave, not that I’d want to do that and I think deep down Stormy doesn’t want that either. But I have to be conscious of my girls’ feelings and make sure they’re my priority. Zara will understand that.

“I understand, Stormy. Zara won’t be in the way or always around if you don’t want her there. She’s there to hide, relax, and regroup.”

“And be your girlfriend?”

I shrug and find that I can’t keep the wide grin from spreading across my face. I like the idea of her being my girlfriend. It makes me feel like a teenager again.