Love Me One More Time by Laura Burton

Chapter 9

“Welcome to the Black family’s annual talent show!”

I swallow against rising nausea as Carter and I wait backstage for our turn. “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” I say, cringing.

“Come on, ZoBo, it’s all for a good cause,” Carter says with a playful nudge. It’s the exact line he gave me the last time we performed this routine. Now that I recall it, I almost backed out then too.

I study my sequin dress. Carter is wearing a matching suit. “And where did you find these costumes?” I ask.

Half of me wants to laugh, the other half wants to hide.

A man should never wear a sequin suit.

“Don’t you like them? I think that dress looks dazzling on you.” Carter bares his white teeth at me in a Cheshire cat grin.

This is ridiculous. Why am I doing this?

I’m doing this because I agreed to go along with Carter’s act. If his family expects the happy couple to perform their stupid dance at the family talent show, so be it.

Besides, it beats kissing, and answering twenty million questions about our upcoming nuptials. Plus, I’m a sucker for charity. If our silly routine helps raise a few dollars for sick kids, I’m all for it.

“Thank you, Charlie, for an invigorating performance… I’ve honestly never seen anyone play the recorder with their nose before. Very unique.”

Roaring laughter from the audience sends a rush of nerves through me.

I peer out from behind the curtain at the profile of a young man, George, who is Carter’s cousin, speaking to the audience and illuminated by the spotlights. “Now, we’re going to watch a spectacular performance by Carter and his lovely fiancée, Zoe!”

I take a deep breath, and put on my show smile.

Our quirky, upbeat soundtrack begins and Carter and I get into character.

When we made up the routine, there was a story behind it; a child leaves his room and the toys get out of the box to dance.

We were a pair of ragdolls, with floppy limbs and goofy expressions on our faces. To prepare, we watched the iconic doll scene from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang on repeat for weeks.

The music turns bouncy and the tempo increases as Carter and I prance around in our sequin clothes. Giggles erupt from the audience but I can’t see anyone for all the blinding lights; thank goodness.

Carter grabs my hands and lifts me above his head for the move we called The Helicopter.

I lay across his shoulders, making myself as stiff as a board. Then Carter grabs my thigh and upper arm, and lifts me into the air. There’s a dramatic gasp from the audience.

Carter begins the spin, and my nausea comes back tenfold. I have mental images of me flying out of his grip and across the stage. The grand finale is a crash landing in the sound equipment. Or worse, I start throwing up and the stage is covered in streaks of vomit.

But Carter soon lowers me to the stage, where I jump into action again.

We move our feet at the same time, wave our arms together and even look at each other on beat. We’re perfectly in sync. When we finish, I jump into Carter’s arms for the final pose and lean back with my arm stretched out, and Carter just holds me like that, our chests heaving as a roar of cheers and applause fills the hall.

I look at Carter. He’s beaming about at his family. He looks so proud. My heart swells.

Then he turns to me and mouths, “Thank you.”

Slowly, he lowers me, and then we’re standing hand in hand, offering a final bow. I giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation. How sweet people are to clap, when I’m pretty sure we looked like a pair of clowns prancing around the stage like that.

George’s voice booms. “Thank you, Carter and Zoe. What a fun routine that was! Now we’re going to see Eddie attempt to eat ninety hot dogs in three minutes!”

Carter and I walk off the stage as George strolls on in his crisp black suit.

“Does he have his own show or something?” I mutter to Carter, leaning into his ear. Carter follows my line of sight and guffaws. “Something like that. George is big in Thailand. They love him over there.”

A fake cough breaks us apart and we turn to see Carter’s mom. She’s holding a violin in one hand and a bow string in the other. Of course. She’s probably going to play something like Tchaikovsky - Symphony No. 6.

“Excuse me,” she says. Her voice is curt and her eyes shoot daggers at me. When she turns to Carter, her expression softens and she purses her lips. “Well done, Carter, baby. Now give your mother a kiss and wish her good luck.”

Carter obliges and gives his mom a kiss on the cheek. She pats his suit collar and hums her approval. She glances briefly in my direction and her painted lips curve upward.

Creepy. Is she trying to assert her claim on him or something?

My stomach knots itself. I really wish I could tell her exactly what’s on my mind.

Carter’s sweet smile calms me.

A kid dashes past. “Somebody get a bucket, he’s gonna hurl!” he shouts. We all peer round the curtain at Eddie, Carter’s Irish cousin, leaning over a mountain of hot dogs. His face is almost as red as his hair and his cheeks are bulging. He lurches forward with a gag and the crowd groans in response. One of the kids runs onto the stage with a bucket.

I look away and wince at the retching.

“Hey, you two were hilarious! Way to go!”

I look up at the sound of my mom’s voice. She’s beaming and reaching out to give us both a hug. “Hey, Mom! How’s your foot?”

“Oh, it’s fine now.” She flaps a hand in dismissal and blushes. “Redford has taken very good care of me.”

After she breaks away from me, I catch a glimpse of Redford. He’s looking sharp and very attractive in an Armani suit and ivory white shirt. Diamond cufflinks wink on his sleeves. My mom is wearing her best dress, I notice. The way they’re standing together gives me the distinct impression that they’re somehow coupled up already.

I give my mom a pointed look. “Looks like you’ve been getting to know Carter’s uncle a little better,” I say. My mom waves a dismissive hand again, but her cheeks flush an even darker shade of red. “What gives you that idea?”

“He can’t stop looking at you,” Carter murmurs.

“What!” Carter’s mom exclaims. I almost forgot she was here. Her gaze moves from Redford, who only has eyes for my mom, to my mom, who is gazing back at him with a dreamy smile.

“Sorry, buddy. On the bright side, eating sixty-two hotdogs has to count as one massive achievement. Let’s give it up for Eddie, everyone!”

Carter’s mom looks conflicted. She shoots a disapproving look at her brother, then at my mom. But only shakes her hair back from her face before she holds up her violin to her shoulder.

I’m sure she’ll have a few choice words to minister later.

Seeing her so unhappy at the sight of my mom with Redford only makes me want them to spend more time together.

Carter’s mom waltzes on the stage as the audience applauds, and Carter brushes my arm with his fingertips. The touch makes me shiver. “Let’s go grab a seat and watch the rest of the show,” he whispers into my ear. I don’t realize I’m grinning like a fool until I lock eyes with my mom. I drop my smile and clear my throat.

“Are you performing?” I ask, trying to divert her attention away from how cozy Carter and I must look, still holding hands.

Redford steps forward and rests his hand on the small of my mom’s back.

“Your mom tells me she’s a virtuoso piano player, I’ve asked her to accompany me.”

I bite my tongue and suppress a smile. Virtuoso? She’s not even classically trained. She used to ‘tickle the ivories’ as she calls it, when she was young.

“Oh, what do you play?” I ask, figuring he’s going to play a wind instrument or something. But his hands are empty.

“Tenor.”

I choke down a laugh with some coughing. “Oh, Mom is going to play for you while you sing?”

This will be interesting.

My mom’s face is beet red again.

I take her aside and mutter into her ear. “Are you sure about this? I’ve never heard you play anything other than chopsticks on the piano.”

Before she can reply, George’s voice booms again.

“I don’t know about you folks, but I’m tearing up. Beautiful. Just beautiful. Now, in the continued spirit of the classics, we have a duet performance from Redford and Debbie Walsh.”

My heart leaps into my mouth as I watch my mom walk onto the stage with Redford. Carter watches them go, looking just as bemused as me.

I nudge him and frown. “Did you have to set them up?”

Carter raises his palms. “What? I thought if your mom made a friend…”

“A friend?” I burst out in a frantic whisper. “A friend would be your mom, or your aunts… Not a tall, hunky, very single uncle!”

Carter scratches the back of his neck. “You think our moms can be friends?”

I follow his line of sight. His mom is behind the curtains at the other end of the stage, staring vehemently at my mom as she settles down in front of the piano.

The word friend is a stretch.

“Okay, frenemies then. But still, my point stands. She’s lost it! Lying to impress him. Now she’s about to make a fool of herself in front of your whole family!”

“Why do you say that?” Carter frowns down at me.

“Because,” I say, my heart racing. “My mom can’t play the piano. She’s going to look like a total––” I stop and listen as a stirring melody interrupts my thoughts.

I stare, open-mouthed, as my mom begins to play the piano like it’s an extension of her soul. She sways and her fingers fly across the keys with so much ease, anyone would think she’s been a professional her entire life.

Then Redford begins to sing. The harmony of his deep, velvety voice with the piano accompaniment is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

“Looks like there’s some things you don’t know about your mom,” Carter says, smirking.

I can’t speak. I’m lost in the music.

My mom can play the piano. Why would she keep that from me?

What else has she not told me?

My mom says she hasn’t dated anyone since my dad. Was that a lie too?

Something nips at my stomach. I don’t know why this revelation feels like a betrayal, but it does. I thought we told each other everything.

Sensing my unease, Carter takes my hand again. “You’ve gone pale. Let’s get you a strong drink.”