Dinner is filled with long streams of silence. I’m still mad at my dad for last night so I refuse to talk, and therefore barely any conversation is spoken. I feel bad for Brady; he looks uncomfortable while glancing over to me every once in a while. Then the unthinkable happens.
“Brady Carsen, is that you?” a gentleman from two tables over calls out.
Brady turns around and an instant frown appears across his face before he quickly replaces it with a fake smile. “Jack, how are you?” He stands up and holds out his hand.
“I’m great. I thought I recognized you. What on earth are you doing here?” His enthusiasm is refreshing to our table.
“I’m here with my girlfriend and her family,” Brady answers quietly and turns toward our table. “This is my girlfriend, Sadie Miller.” I stand up and shake Jack’s hand. “These are her parents. This is Maggie and I think you know her father, Theo.”
“Yes, nice to see you again, Theo. Pleasure to meet you, Maggie.” Jack shakes everyone’s hands.
A couple of heads turn in our direction, wondering how my boyfriend knows the famous Jack London. Everything is who you know and what you have around here.
“Will you accompany me tonight? I play in about an hour. Nothing spectacular, just some ballroom dancing pieces.” Jack’s appears hopeful.
“I don’t think so,” Brady answers.
“You should play, Brady. I would love to hear you perform,” my mom tries to change his mind.
Brady’s eyes veer my way and I smile, encouraging him to do it.
“Alright, maybe a couple,” he grudgingly agrees.
“Great. Finish your dinner and I can meet you in forty-five minutes. Sound good?” Jack doesn’t wait for the answer. Brady sits back down at the table and I grab his hand under the table. It’s clammy and cold and I look at him with confused eyes, but he shakes his head.
“I can’t wait to hear you, Brady,” my dad says with way too much sarcasm in his voice.
I’m eager to hear Brady play, so I take a seat next to my grandma at her table where I can be right up front. My mom grabs the chair on the other side of me. I have no idea where my dad is, but I really don’t care at this point.
Brady and Jack are on stage, fiddling with instruments and talking about what pieces they will play.
“He really is attractive, Sadie,” my mom whispers in my ear.
“I know,” I exclaim.
“He seems to love you. Do you love him?” she asks.
I stare at my mom, stunned by her question. There is something different about her since I have been home and the change is nice.
“Yes,” I nod my head. “I’m sure it’s not what you expected from me, but I do love him, Mom.”
“I thought so, honey. If you love each other, that’s all that matters.” Her comment makes me skeptical, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is the same woman who told me I should stay away from Kayla Jacobs because her parents couldn’t afford to belong to the country club when I was eleven. Shallow and vain have always been qualities my mom possessed.
Brady’s voice brings my eyes back to the stage. He is gorgeous in his black slacks and button down. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Brady Carsen,” he starts talking and my grandma whistles, making him chuckle into the microphone. The nice shade of pink is refreshing on him.
“I know that none of you know me, but I have known Jack here for quite a number of years. He has asked that I accompany him tonight and I hope you don’t mind.” He strums his guitar a few times.
“You know when someone comes into your life and you wonder where you were headed before you met them. Your whole life takes on a different meaning and you start living for them, instead of yourself? Well, that happened to me two months ago when Sadie Miller fell into my arms. This is for you, beautiful.” His sultry voice fills the room, accompanied by his guitar with “When you Say Nothing at All” by Ronan Keating.
I notice the stares from the corner of my eyes. I want to run up on stage and jump into his arms, showing all of these people that he’s mine. For the first time in all of the occasions I have seen Brady sing, his eyes stay open the whole time, staring directly at me. He never looks down at his guitar while he strums along with Jack. It is only the two of us in the room. I imagine if this were a movie, everyone else would fade into a black abyss, leaving a spotlight just on us. As the song draws to a close, Brady puts his guitar down, allowing Jack to fully take over. He walks over and bends down in front of me while taking my hands in my lap and sings solely to me. A tear falls down my cheek and he cups my face to catch the next one with his thumb. When the song is over, he leans forward and kisses me.
“I love you, baby,” he whispers in my ear.
Before I can say it back, he is already on stage, grabbing his guitar again. When he turns around again, he gives me his signature wink.
“Sadie…you need to marry that boy before he gets away,” my grandma says loudly.
“Thanks, Grandma,” I giggle in return, my eyes only on Brady.
The rest of the night, Brady plays a variety of songs with Jack. Numerous songs are popular hits that they turn into an acoustic mix for this stuffy crowd. I happily agree to dance with an older gentleman from our table. He spins me around the dance floor, making it hard to keep up. Brady laughs every time his eyes land on us and I look at him, worried at what I got myself into.
Brady and Jack announce that they are playing their last song, making me grateful. I’m done sharing him, especially with these self-absorbed people that most likely don’t appreciate his talent. A familiar, deep voice taps me on the shoulder and asks if I want to dance. I reluctantly stand up and take my father’s hand.
He leads me to the dance floor while Brady switches over to the keyboard. He starts playing “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago, but for the first time, his song choice is off. The last thing my dad will do is apologize.
“Sadie, I’m not sorry for last night. I see how much you care for him, but he won’t be able to give you the life you deserve,” he says softly so no one else hears him.
“What kind of life? A happy one?” I sneer at him.
“How will he support you? Eventually those looks will fade.”
I roll my eyes. “Dad, Brady is talented and he doesn’t rely on his looks. Did you ever think that I don’t want someone to support me? I don’t want this life,” I say, looking around.
“Why the hell not? Was your life so bad, Sadie? Was your closet too full of high- end clothes or your new Mercedes at sixteen that terrible? I can imagine having your college tuition plus spending money must be a nightmare. Did I give you such a horrible life that you want to spit in my face now?” His sarcastic voice escalates but for the first time, I don’t care if we make a scene.
“I want someone who loves me and Brady does. He accepts me…fully,” I confess.
“Really? Does he know you were a slut in college? How about Theo and why he died? Does he know that you got your brother killed?” he asks me between clenched teeth, tightening his grip. I may have always felt the guilt, but hearing it hurts that much more.
I pull out of his arms and run out of the room. In the hallway, I hear the music stop abruptly. When I get outside, Brady is right behind me, already wrapping his arms around me. “Take me home,” I whisper through tears.
“Okay.” He whistles for a cab and when we get in, I give the driver my parents’ address. Brady holds me the entire ride, not asking any questions.
When we pull up into the drive, I open the door and inform the cab driver to stay and tell Brady to pack his bags.
“No Sadie, I will not let you run from your family on account of me,” he says, grabbing both my arms.
“I asked you to take me home,” I say.
“You are home Sadie,” he answers, confused.