“Yeah, yet,” he echoes. The warm dressing room lights soften the scruff on his face, making it look lighter. “It’s easy now—your friends and family practically around the corner. But after months of isolation on the road, things change.”
“This won’t,” I say firmly.
I’m getting tired of this conversation. When my best friends nudge me, I know it’s out of love. But with Patty, I can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to steer me away from whatever path he walked.
Our paths aren’t the same.
He toured with the act.
Iamthe act.
He could afford to let people in.
But I know better.
“Whatever you say, Queenie.”
“Oh, I say, Sugar.”
His mouth quirks slightly, but he doesn’t fire back.
That’s … unexpected.
Ash fans herself with exaggerated drama. “Whew! Someone get a knife, because this tension is thick enough to cut!” Then she turns to Patty. “Lou’s an attorney. Arguing is what she does for fun.”
I swat at her.
“Enough. Patty and I’ll be fine.”
“‘Fine’ is generous,” Patty mutters.
Ash beams.
“See? Y’all are going to have so much fun.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
LOU
Aweek of shows goes by, followed by another and another. Every concert makes me feel like I’m floating, while every interview and after-party drags me back down to earth.
Hard.
In each city, I spend an hour with the press, laughing and smiling through clenched teeth as they compare me to Winona.
“So, Lucy,” one interviewer says, “everyone’s been talking about how much you’re like your mom. I mean, there’s a real resemblance there, right? Is it hard living in her shadow, or is that something you embrace?”
I force the same smile I’ve used a hundred times already tonight. “I don’t think about it much. I’m not trying to be anyone but myself. Winona’s Winona, and I’m… well, I’m Lucy Jane. That’s the most important thing to me.”
The same questions, the same backhanded compliments, over and over. They’re so busy comparing me to my mom, I wonder if they even hear me.
It’s enough to make me miss being anonymous.
But the comparisons don’t stop in the press room. After each set of interviews, Manny invites VIPs into the green room, where it’s more of the same.
"You know, I can’t help but think of Winona when I watch you perform. You’ve got that same star power, but with a bit more grit. It’s like you’re carrying the torch for her, huh?" a middle-aged man in a designer suit says.
He’s from the label, so I can’t turn on my heel and walk away … but I wish I could get my hands on some medicine and a Dr Pepper Zero. I’m not sure my head can handle much more.
