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“Yes.” Back before I knew enough to lie.
Although, to Suzan’s credit, she’s never once capitalized on the truth. Until now.
“He’sJohnny. He called you June in Brookfield. It’s cute. Very country sweethearts of you two.”
“My music career is one thing. My love life is a separate matter.”
“You’ve been in the industry long enough to know, that’s not how it works, Sutton. It should be separate, but it’s not. And in this case…he’s in your band. You wrote your most popular song about him. Separate is a long ways away.”
I down the rest of my coffee and stand. “I’m going to get changed. We’ll be landing in Madrid soon. I have the Music Today interview first thing, right?”
“Right,” Suzan confirms. “And tonight, there’s an after-party at Madrid’s hottest club. I promised you’d be there.”
I nod, say, “Fine,” and then head toward the back of the plane.
The private aircraft belongs to my label, reserved for instances just like this—one of their top-performing artists out on tour. It’s plush and over the top. All the seats are large and upholstered with buttery soft leather. The bedroom and bathroom located in the rear are just as fancy as the suite I left early this morning.
My sweats get swapped out for a blue sundress. I spray some product into my hair, which dried into its natural half-curly, half-wavy texture since I didn’t have time to blow-dry it before leaving the hotel this morning. I dab some concealer on the dark circles beneath my eyes and am about to head back out to my seat when the phone rings.
I’m shocked to see my father is the one calling me. The last time he did was to tell me my grandfather had passed away and let me know the date of the memorial service. That was over a month ago now. And prior to that, we hadn’t spoken in several of them. It’s simply how our relationship has been for as long as I can remember.
“Hi, Dad,” I answer.
“Hello, Sutton.”
“Is, uh, is everything okay?”
There’s an ominous pause, then, “Yes, everything is fine.”
I say nothing, confused, and try to come up with some way to express that other than outright asking,Why are you calling then?I settle on, “That’s good.”
“How are things with you? On tour?”
“Uh, they’re good. We left Amsterdam this morning. I’m on my way to Madrid at the moment.”
“Wow, that’s…wow.”
I’d say it’s been five years since my father left the Midwest, and that was just to visit me in California.
“You’re on a plane right now?”
“Yep.”
“They allow phones on those now?”
“It’s a private plane,” I admit.
My father is a humble, simple guy. I know he’s aware my career choice has been a prosperous one, but it still feels strange to acknowledge just how extraordinary my life really is.
“Wow,” he says again.
“Yeah.”
“How is Teddy settling in with all that?”
It’s always been strange, discussing Teddy with my dad. He’s not the most astute guy. I’m confident the thought that I might have feelings for the boy next door never even occurred to him.
He could have walked in on Teddy giving me a piggyback ride in the barn and would have assumed it was completely innocent. I guess it mostly was.
