AFTER THAT, THE FINE MEN and women of the Sweetbriar Police Department took over, calming down the crowd and ushering out the prisoners. A slew of people came over to congratulate me, and to thank me for dealing with the scourge of the paparazzi. Apparently I was no longer the town’s number one enemy.
“You should really be thanking Shelby Tanaka,” I told them, shouting to be heard. “She knows Sweetbriar law better than anyone. Vote Shelby for Sweetbriar Summer Princess!”
Britta rolled her eyes at me and I shrugged. Shelby had told me what I owed her for helping, and now that Fiona was out of the race, I had no problem joining her campaign.
“Um, guys? We need to get outside. Now,” Fiona said. She held up her phone and I saw a live feed of the front of the courthouse. Across the bottom of the screen, a red headline flashed: “Breaking News: Senator Rebecca Montgomery Press Conference About to Begin.”
“What is she giving a press conference for?” Duncan asked.
My heart sank to my toes. Oh God, no. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. I shoved my way through the crowd toward the big double doors leading to the lobby and then the marble steps beyond. By the time I sidestepped all the well-wishers and made it through security, my mother had already begun speaking. My father stood behind her and, from the corner of his eye, saw me hesitate.
She wasn’t really going to bow out of the race, was she? Just because I was a train wreck? Because she couldn’t figure out how to spin my front-page headlines?
“I’m here today to talk to you all about someone who’s been in the news quite a bit recently—my daughter, Cecilia Montgomery,” my mother was saying.
My insides quivered as dozens of faces and microphones and cameras trained on me, hovering ten steps above and behind the podium. My father lifted a hand, beckoning me to come join him. Somehow I made it to his side on wobbly knees and he put his strong arm around my waist.
“Cecilia is a unique young woman,” my mother continued. “She has led a very cloistered life. After the attempted kidnapping when she was only ten, my husband and I made the decision to do everything we could to keep her safe, which meant keeping her out of the limelight, keeping her close to home.”
She paused and took a deep breath. A light breeze cooled the back of my neck and made goose bumps pop up all over my skin.
“But that also meant she was denied something that, as American citizens, is our birthright. She was denied freedom,” my mother said, and the crowd murmured. “Denied the freedom to make her own decisions, the freedom to try new things and meet new people. The freedom”—she paused—“to make mistakes. And to learn from those mistakes the way each one of us must do if we are to grow up to become responsible people.”
My breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t believe my mother was doing this—was saying these things to the entire country—the entire world.
“I’m here today to say that while I did what I thought was best at the time, I now regret the decision we made. Because of our overly protective instincts, our daughter never got to be a real teenager. She never got to rebel or explore or find her independence. So yes, in the past couple of weeks, she may have made a few ill-advised decisions, but my husband and I take part of the blame in those decisions. If we’d let her have any sort of fun in the past few years, maybe she wouldn’t be having so much of it now.”
She said this with a wry smile and the crowd chuckled.
“I realize that this country has a special fascination with fame, and I know that the road ahead won’t be an easy or overly private one for Cecilia. But I ask that—if you can find it in your hearts—you give her a chance to find her footing and not prejudge her by every photo or every headline you see. Cecilia is a straight-A student who was accepted into every top university to which she applied. She’s a hard worker, a good friend, and a stellar person. And she hasn’t even lived up to her full potential yet.”
There was a pause and I had to swallow over and over again to keep from crying.
“Thank you all for indulging me here today. And God bless America.”
My mother turned around, putting her back to the hundreds of shouted questions, and without even thinking, I threw my arms around her. It took a moment for her to hug me back, but when she did, it wasn’t stiff or perfunctory or calculated. It was a real, warm embrace.
* * *
“Shelby Tanaka for Sweetbriar Summer Princess!” I shouted, handing out hot pink flyers at the entrance to Summer Fest. “Vote for Shelby Tanaka!”
Most people smiled at me as they took the flyers, but I wasn’t sure if I was on their good side again, or if it was because I was wearing a big, full-color photo of Shelby on my chest. Either way, I didn’t care. Things were back to normal in Sweetbriar. The air smelled of fresh-baked pies and cotton candy, country music blared from overhead speakers, and everyone was in a dang good mood. It felt like home again.
“How long do you have to do this chore, Cecilia Montgomery?” Frederick asked, sipping from a huge plastic cup of lemonade as he sidled over to me. “I was hoping you would teach me how to do the line dancing.”
“Oh, I have no idea how to line dance,” I said, glancing over at the wooden floorboards where dozens of people stomped and twirled. “But it does look like fun.”
“So let us go.” He reached for my hand.
I bit my lip and slipped a few flyers to passersby. “Frederick . . . about the other night . . .”
His brow knit and he tilted his head, as if he had no idea what I was going to say.
“You kissed me,” I said. “But I have a boyfriend.”
“Oh, that was nothing,” he told me. “I have a girlfriend as well.”
A girl on the tilt-a-whirl screamed so loud it made the people waiting on line laugh.
“Then why did you kiss me?” I asked.
“I have a girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean I do not enjoy the kissing.” Frederick grinned and reached for my free hand again. This time, I let him take it. “I also enjoy the dancing. Come. We will dance as friends.”
I glanced at my stack of pink flyers. There were maybe twenty left.
“But I promised Shelby I’d distribute all of these,” I said.
Frederick took the stack from my hand and tossed them high into the air, where their hot pinkness fluttered and flipped against the setting sun. Everyone around us whooped and started to grab for the papers like it was a game or the papers were dollar bills.
“Now they are distributed,” Frederick said, taking my hand.
“You are a bad influence, Monsieur Valois,” I said with a laugh.
He narrowed his eyes. “Why is everyone always telling me that?”
We joined the dancers just as they were finishing up a song, and fell into line for the next one. Ryan, Duncan, and Fiona were already there and did their best to help us as we kicked up our heels, spun the wrong way, and tried to figure out what a pivot step was. Mostly, we were doubled over laughing. At the end of the song, my phone vibrated. An incoming Skype call from Jasper. I dove off the stage to take it.
“Hey!” I said, out of breath and probably flushed.
Jasper was in the back of a limo. His hair was mussed and he had day-old stubble, and somehow he looked more gorgeous than ever.
“You look like you’re having fun,” Jasper said with a smile.
“I am!”
“I can’t believe I’m missing Summer Fest. First time in my entire life.”
I wished he was there too, but I didn’t want to make him feel worse. “Hey, you’ve got a job to do,” I said. “And Summer Fest will still be here next year.”
“True,” he said. “But I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Where’s this gig tonight?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “Some new venue. I lost track of my own schedule a good three days ago. But listen, have fun tonight and tell everyone I said ‘hey,’ all right? I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Okay. I will,” I said, a touch of melancholy in my voice. “I love you, home-wrecker.”
Jasper’s smile widened. “I love you too, Red Sox.”
We hung up and I was about to rejoin my friends, when Tash came flying up to me wearing an extremely fancy black ball gown. She grabbed my arm, gasping for air. I’d never seen her so out of sorts.
“What’s wrong? I told my mother I’d be at the gala by eight,” I said.
“It’s the caterers!” she cried, gripping my wrist so tightly I thought her fingers might break. “They say you never ordered a vegetarian option.”
My stomach zipped up tight. “Oh God.”
“You really never ordered a vegetarian option?” Tash squealed.
“But you said we wouldn’t need one!” I replied, though I had realized this was in no way true.
“Do not put this on me, Cecilia,” she snapped, releasing my arm. “Do you have any idea how many Hollywood people we have coming to this thing? They’re all vegetarian! What are we going to do?”
I took a deep breath, but it did no good. My heartbeat was pulsing against the inside of my skull. All I’d done for the last few days was work with the set-up crew and the seamstresses and the florists and the lighting engineers, trying to get the look for the gala exactly right. I couldn’t let one menu snafu ruin the entire thing. I glanced around as my friends tumbled off the line dancing stage, Duncan and Fiona hanging on to each other as they laughed.
“Taylors!” I shouted, and they both looked up at the desperation in my voice. “We have to find your dad.”
I had a lot of begging to do.
* * *
“So you just happened to have over-ordered hundreds of green tomatoes?” I asked, as Hal, Duncan, Fiona, Britta, Ryan, Frederick, Caitlin, and I unloaded huge trays of fried green tomatoes from the back of Hal’s delivery van.
“I like to be prepared for any culinary emergencies that might arise,” Hal replied, giving me a wink.
I handed a tray over to one of the waiters near the back door and stopped myself before wiping my hands on the front of my deep red gown.
“Seriously, Hal. Thank you for doing this. I can’t believe how fast you and the guys whipped these up,” I said. “And I’m sorry I blew you off the other day. I was going through some stuff.”
Hal put his warm hand on my bare shoulder. “We’ve all been through some stuff,” he said, looking into my eyes. “That doesn’t mean we stop being family.”
My heart skipped. “You think of me as family?”
“Of course,” he said, and reached into the van for a couple of juice jugs.
“What’s that?” I asked, still smiling happy.
“I also brought some of my famous sweet tea,” he said with a wink. “Just in case.”
I laughed as I followed him inside, more wait staff streaming out past us to finish unloading the van. I slipped along the least-busy wall of the kitchen and out into the gymnasium, where dozens of tables were draped with dark burgundy tablecloths and navy and cream accents, decorated with gorgeous modern glass centerpieces that invoked the three stars on the Tennessee flag. The guests milled about in their gowns and tuxedos, as classical music played out on the patio. I found my mother chatting with my dad and one of the senators from Florida, and walked over to join them.
“Cecilia, you did a wonderful job,” my mother said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “You remember Senator Rashad?”
“Yes, hello, Senator,” I said, extending my hand. “Lovely to see you again.”
“You planned this event?” the senator asked, shaking my hand and bringing her other to her heart. “The décor is absolutely stunning. I might have to hire you for my next fundraiser.”
I laughed as my father beamed. “I’m not responsible for all of it,” I said. “In fact, my mother’s assistant, Tash, picked up a lot of my slack and did some serious troubleshooting.”
Tash, who was at my mother’s side as always, shot me a stunned look and I smiled gracefully in return.
Gigi had always told me it was in our nature to rise above, and from now on that was going to be one of my mottos. Rise above. Learn to say no. Alcohol=evil. I’d learned a lot in the last few weeks.
The music on the patio stopped abruptly and there was a shout of surprise, followed by a quick screech of feedback. Tash and I locked eyes. What now?
We were both three steps across the room when a voice stopped me cold.
“How y’all doing tonight? I’m Jasper Case. And I’m here to give y’all a little taste of authentic Tennessee.”
Suddenly, I was running in my ridiculously high heels. The guitar-heavy opening of Jasper’s “Midnight Run to You” blared through the speakers as I emerged through the French doors. Everyone on the patio was rapt with attention as Jasper began to sing. He had shaved since I’d last seen him—how?—and wore a perfectly cut tux with his signature black cowboy hat and a pair of black and teal boots. The first time he looked up from his guitar he caught my eye, and his smile almost made me swoon.
“I thought you said he couldn’t find us a country act,” Tash said.
“I guess he decided to take it upon himself,” I replied.
“Your boyfriend is very talented, Cecilia,” my father said, coming up behind me.
I sighed happily and touched the strand of pearls around my neck. “He is, isn’t he?”
I wove my way through the crowd, which grew by the second with people spilling out of the gym and onto the patio. When the song was over, the volume of the response surprised me, and Jasper looked down, clearly impressed with himself.
“I thought you had a gig tonight,” I shouted.
“I told you it was a new venue,” he said with a satisfied grin. “I brought you a little somethin’.”
He turned and the guitarist handed him my violin, which he held out to me.
“Care to join me for this next one?” he asked.
I hesitated half a second. What would my mother think if I took the stage at her gala to play backup to my country-star boyfriend? But then I realized, it didn’t matter. It was time for me to start making my own decisions, and I wanted to play. I wanted people to see me play. I wanted people to know I was about more than the tabloids made me out to be.
“You’re on.”
I stepped up onto the stage and readied my instrument. Jasper leaned into the microphone.
“Accompanying me on this next song is the one, the only, Cecilia Montgomery.”
The polite applause was punctuated by loud cheers from my friends in the back corner. I shot them a grateful smile and Jasper and I began to play. As we moved through the first verse of “Meant to Be,” I scanned the room, my eyes landing on my mother, my father, Tash, and my friends. And then I started to focus on the strangers in the crowd—the Hollywood moguls, the veteran actors, the politicians and the business people and the few esteemed reporters. They were a rapt audience. Every one of them was enjoying the music. And yeah, maybe they were judging me or judging Jasper or wondering how we came to be or how long we would last, but who cared? I knew what we were, and I knew that together, we could do anything.
The song ended, and the crowd cheered. My mother raised her clapping hands above everyone else’s, and for the first time in a long time, I saw pride in her eyes.
Jasper leaned in for a quick kiss and then spoke into my ear. “What’re we doing after this, Red Sox?” he asked.
I looked into his eyes. “Anything we want.”