"I'm trying to figure out what I want in life. What I want to do with my life. I'm done with being a Sassy Cat. But my mom basically told me all I'm good at is sex."
"You are very good at it." I mean it as a compliment. Her face falls though.
"I want to be able to do something else, you know? Surely I'm good at something else. Anything else. And as much as I want to be with you right now, I think I need to stop using sex as my default. It's my go-to when I don't know what else to do. And right now, I don't know what else to do."
I should feel relieved that she's taking the temptation away. Her being here has already led me astray from my work. I should have called Kyle to make sure he'll be able to fetch Leslie Ann Moose from the train station. I'm losing focus—no, I've lost focus—because of Tabitha. I should feel relieved.
But I don't.
I feel like I did when I was a kid and I wasn't enough for my mum. I'm not enough for Tabitha. My love—or whatever this is—isn't enough to make her feel whole.
I'm not enough.
And while I fear that I'll never be enough, looking at Tabitha, disheveled and vulnerable, I know I want to try. I need to be enough for her so she feels like she is enough.
"Right then. Let's put a pin in this," I motion between the two of us, "and we'll figure out what you're good at. It's better for me really, because, well, you know my rule."
"What if you broke your rule?"
"I almost did."
"Yeah, and what if there was no almost?"
I plop back into my desk chair, running my fingers through my hair. "We're putting a pin in it, remember?" If we change the subject, then I don't have to think about the almosts. I pick up my phone to see a string of texts from Grayson. Kyle's not available to pick up Leslie Ann.
Shit.
Tabitha smooths down her hair. "Don't panic. We can figure this out. But also, I don't think you should send just anyone. You need her, so this isn't a warm body job. Who would have more charm than you and is as invested in The Edison succeeding as you and Grayson are? That's who you need to send."
My God, she's brilliant. There's only one answer. Josh, the musical director.
"I'm going to send Josh. Believe it or not, he's got some game. And do you mean to tell me that smooth-talking Kyle didn't sweep you off your feet?" I jest.
"I'm sure he would have if I'd let him. But I'm not interested in Kyle. Or anyone else for that matter."
"Pin," I remind her. It's actually a reminder to myself because I'm not thinking about anything that I should be thinking about right now.
"Right. Consider me pinned. Now, what else do we need to do? I'm sure this show needs something. Do you have a list? What's next?"
I stand up. "What's next is I need to talk to Josh, and then get into rehearsal. You need to be learning your lines. And everyone here pitches in with sets and props and whatever else, so another set of hands would be appreciated."
Tabitha looks at her hands, flipping them over and examining them. Finally she looks up at me. "You know I can't really do anything, right? I've got no skills, other than singing and well," she shrugs, "that thing that we're not talking about."
I take a step toward her, taking those hands in my own. "Tabitha, you've accomplished more in your life than most people ever dream possible. You're supremely talented on stage, and you've got your hands full being a single mum. At some point, you need to give yourself credit for some of it."
Her big blue eyes hold a vulnerability I'm sure her adoring fans have never seen. I should feel privileged that I get to witness it. Instead, the desire to flee consumes me. It's too much.
I can't be this for her.
Chapter 35: Tabitha
"M
ommy, can I come with you today?" Her little voice turns me to mush.
"Of course, baby girl. It might be boring, but you can bring your iPad." My answer is automatic. Rehearsals have been running so long at The Edison that I feel like I barely get to see Paisley. We have breakfast together in the morning, and once Maria drops me off, I don't see her for the rest of the day. I'm never back before she goes to bed.
These are some mighty long days.
