ut now…
“‘Rush of Love’ won’t hit number one, and you know it, Mason.” She picked up the pen and paper on her lap. “But my next love ’em and leave ’em song will.”
Her manager leaned his shoulder against the door. “Chrissie, you’ve had a couple hits, and everyone’s thrilled with “When Love Comes Last.” But you need something fun and upbeat. If you want to keep going in this business—”
“I do,” she said firmly.
“Then you need a hit song that isn’t tied up with loving and losing a soldier,” he said.
“Sailors. They’re sailors.” She turned her attention to a pad of paper in front of her. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her cell phone lying on the wooden table, nestled between the couches. Should she try Dante again? Just to make sure he was all right?
No, he’s out there doing what he’s supposed to be doing—saving the world.
And she needed to stay here and pour her heart into her music. She couldn’t let her mind wander and wonder if she’d made a mistake.
She heard Mason leave, the door clicking shut behind him. She needed to write. Her songs were the only pieces of her life that had always been there for her. But, as she put pen to paper, she couldn’t escape the nagging doubts.
What if I made a mistake? What if I messed up, placing my career and my success first? What if Dante’s more important?
But even if she said yes to her heart, even if she walked out of this recording studio and boarded the next flight to California, he’d still ship out.
“Chrissie?”
A knock accompanied the familiar voice, and she looked up as the door opened. Her mother stepped inside.
“I’m writing, Mom,” she said, waving the empty paper. “And I don’t want to talk about last night. Mason’s already stopped by to share the good news. The song is number one.”
“That’s great.” Her mother claimed a seat on the opposite couch. “But I’m not here about the song.”
Chrissie looked at her mother. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“Chrissie, this has nothing to do with you. But I’m going to leave the tour for a while,” her mother said. “I need to spend some time in Florida.”
Nothing to do with her? Her success had shredded her parents’ picture-perfect love.
“Dad can handle things at home,” Chrissie said, rising to her father’s defense once again. “You can trust him.”
“I do.” Her mother glanced down at her entwined fingers. “And I still love him. But if we have a chance of making our marriage work again—”
“You need to stay away from my tour. My career. This crazy, fast-paced industry that…that feels like poison when it comes to relationships.”
Her mother’s gaze snapped up to meet hers. The blue eyes mirrored her own. Her mom abandoned her place on the couch, crossed the small sitting area, and claimed a seat beside Chrissie.
“No,” her mother said. “Your father and I—our problems go back a long time. I heard your song last night, Chrissie. And you’re right, sometime love comes second to kids and work. For us, we didn’t have a choice. We needed to prioritize work to keep our family together. But underneath it all, driving us, was love. For you, your brothers and sisters. And for each other.”
“Mom, I’ve heard you fight,” she protested. “You never used to scream at each other.”
“Not in front of you,” she said. “And when things started falling apart, well, we learned after the twins were born that we needed to seek help. We started seeing a marriage counselor. We went back after Joe died. But then your career exploded, and we wanted to support you, honey. We did our best—”
“At the cost of your marriage,” she said.
“Along the way, we forgot to put love first. It’s still there. We just need some time together to talk things through.” Her mom patted her knee. “And I know you have your music under control. You’re doing great, Chrissie. But don’t forget to take some time for yourself, too. You can’t put your job first forever.”
“I need to write this album,” she said, still reeling from the revelation that she hadn’t destroyed her parents’ marriage with her climb to country stardom. She wasn’t to blame for their problems. It wasn’t a simple choice between her success and their love…
Of course it wasn’t. Love didn’t arrive in a neatly tied package, waiting to be unwrapped at the perfect time. And it couldn’t be stuffed back inside on a whim.
“That song’s all wrong,” she muttered.