one stay out of the public eye. You know, just a suggestion. ”
“Very funny, Mom. Hilarious, really.” Ethan let out a frustrated sigh as he paced back and forth in the garden. He gave a swift kick to a ceramic flower pot sitting at the base of the porch swing, but it didn’t make him feel any better; it only made his toe hurt. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
His mom’s tone abruptly changed from mocking sarcasm to blatant disappointment.
“Ethan, there are a lot of things you’ve done lately that I can’t believe.”
To this, Ethan had no reply. Even he had to admit, there was no arguing that one.
“So how long am I stuck here?”
His mother’s tone softened. She could sense that Ethan was giving up the fight. “I guess that all depends on you, honey. When you find the old Ethan—the one that sings and performs because it’s what he loves to do and not because it’s what makes him money—you call me back and we’ll talk about it. Until then, get some rest and take advantage of the time off. Your Granny Mae is getting older and there’s no guarantee how much time you have left with her. Use this time wisely.”
Ethan could already see there was no getting out of this. He knew his mother well, and when she got that tone there was no backing down. He’d seen it a thousand times with his producers. If she didn’t want it, they couldn’t talk her into it. There was nothing he could do.
His final plea came out more as a whimper. “Mom . . . please . . .”
“Honey, I love you and I want the best for you, and sometimes that means doing things you’ll hate me for. I’ll talk to you later.”
The flat silence on the other end of the line let Ethan know that his mother had hung up.
That was that.
Ethan remained unmoving, taking on the appearance of a statue at the edge of the tiny garden. Given a pointy hat, he could’ve passed for a really tall gnome. He thought about his next move. Was it worth it to call Bruce? No, probably not. He knew his mother well enough to know that she had already taken care of any avenue Ethan could use to get out of this place. That only left one option.
Stay in Alabama.
Well, of one thing Ethan was entirely certain; if he was going to have any hope of leaving the house during his stay in Fairhope, he was going to have to do something drastic to keep from being recognized. He knew what he had to do . . . and the thought made him almost nauseous. His image consultant was going to kill him—it was his signature look and everybody knew him by it—but he had no other choice.
The hair had to go.
Her voice broke through Ethan’s fog of panic, startling him with a tiny jump.
“Hey, you okay?”
Ethan looked up toward the patio doors. Alaina gazed back at him with an odd expression. He wondered how long she’d been there. Had she heard any of his conversation with his mother?
“Yeah . . . I’m fine. I was just talking to my mom.”
“Oh.”
What was that in her tone? Concern? Why did he already feel calmer? There was just something about this girl’s confident presence that seemed to soothe Ethan’s nerves.
Alaina had been the first and only person his age to treat him like a real human being and not a rock star since he’d quit high school and began his music career. At least if he was going to do this, he could do it with her company, if she’d allow it.
“Alaina, would you mind helping me out with something today?”
Her eyes sparkled with partial confusion, partial intrigue, but her smile told him right away that she was thinking yes.
Chapter 7
Alaina
Alaina was a little surprised when Ethan’s directions landed them in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart Supercenter.
It hadn’t dawned on Alaina that Ethan was without personal transportation, but considering Granny Mae had picked him up from the little airport upstate, it only made sense. So Alaina’s vehicle was providing the transportation for the day and
“Very funny, Mom. Hilarious, really.” Ethan let out a frustrated sigh as he paced back and forth in the garden. He gave a swift kick to a ceramic flower pot sitting at the base of the porch swing, but it didn’t make him feel any better; it only made his toe hurt. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”
His mom’s tone abruptly changed from mocking sarcasm to blatant disappointment.
“Ethan, there are a lot of things you’ve done lately that I can’t believe.”
To this, Ethan had no reply. Even he had to admit, there was no arguing that one.
“So how long am I stuck here?”
His mother’s tone softened. She could sense that Ethan was giving up the fight. “I guess that all depends on you, honey. When you find the old Ethan—the one that sings and performs because it’s what he loves to do and not because it’s what makes him money—you call me back and we’ll talk about it. Until then, get some rest and take advantage of the time off. Your Granny Mae is getting older and there’s no guarantee how much time you have left with her. Use this time wisely.”
Ethan could already see there was no getting out of this. He knew his mother well, and when she got that tone there was no backing down. He’d seen it a thousand times with his producers. If she didn’t want it, they couldn’t talk her into it. There was nothing he could do.
His final plea came out more as a whimper. “Mom . . . please . . .”
“Honey, I love you and I want the best for you, and sometimes that means doing things you’ll hate me for. I’ll talk to you later.”
The flat silence on the other end of the line let Ethan know that his mother had hung up.
That was that.
Ethan remained unmoving, taking on the appearance of a statue at the edge of the tiny garden. Given a pointy hat, he could’ve passed for a really tall gnome. He thought about his next move. Was it worth it to call Bruce? No, probably not. He knew his mother well enough to know that she had already taken care of any avenue Ethan could use to get out of this place. That only left one option.
Stay in Alabama.
Well, of one thing Ethan was entirely certain; if he was going to have any hope of leaving the house during his stay in Fairhope, he was going to have to do something drastic to keep from being recognized. He knew what he had to do . . . and the thought made him almost nauseous. His image consultant was going to kill him—it was his signature look and everybody knew him by it—but he had no other choice.
The hair had to go.
Her voice broke through Ethan’s fog of panic, startling him with a tiny jump.
“Hey, you okay?”
Ethan looked up toward the patio doors. Alaina gazed back at him with an odd expression. He wondered how long she’d been there. Had she heard any of his conversation with his mother?
“Yeah . . . I’m fine. I was just talking to my mom.”
“Oh.”
What was that in her tone? Concern? Why did he already feel calmer? There was just something about this girl’s confident presence that seemed to soothe Ethan’s nerves.
Alaina had been the first and only person his age to treat him like a real human being and not a rock star since he’d quit high school and began his music career. At least if he was going to do this, he could do it with her company, if she’d allow it.
“Alaina, would you mind helping me out with something today?”
Her eyes sparkled with partial confusion, partial intrigue, but her smile told him right away that she was thinking yes.
Chapter 7
Alaina
Alaina was a little surprised when Ethan’s directions landed them in the parking lot of the Wal-Mart Supercenter.
It hadn’t dawned on Alaina that Ethan was without personal transportation, but considering Granny Mae had picked him up from the little airport upstate, it only made sense. So Alaina’s vehicle was providing the transportation for the day and
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