Superstar by Roslyn Hardy Holcomb Page B

fewer than five Sioux’s in my first grade
class. There were a lot of Cherokees and Crees. Unfortunately, Kwai
got stuck with Kwakiutl.”
    “Kwai from Honeychile?”
    “Oh yeah. She will not answer to her actual
name under any circumstances. Her parents were both actors, child
stars from that show, The Ties That Bind back in the
Eighties. They were heavily into Native culture at one time. They
went to sweat lodges and spent a lot of time on reservations. My
parents were just trendy.”
    “That’s right, your mother was in a girl
band too. What was the name? I remember they were huge in the
Eighties.”
    “Dupree. Yes, my dad managed them. That’s
how they met. Honeychile was actually his third girl band. He had
Sugar Baby in the seventies, too.”
    He whistled between his teeth. “Wow. No
pressure, huh?”
    “Believe it or not, there actually wasn’t
any. My folks totally discouraged me from music, but I really
wanted it.”
    “How do your folks feel about you going out
on tour with us?”
    Sioux sighed and paused for a long moment to
think about what she wanted to say. An errant breeze swirled about
her head, almost taking her straw cowboy hat with it. She was
dressed similarly to Thad in loose-fitting cargo shorts and a
tropical print tank top, but the sun on the water would surely burn
her to a crisp if it got away. She reached up to secure the hat
more firmly before responding. “What do you think? They’re worried,
of course. They think I’ll relapse. They know from experience how
bad the road is.”
    “What did you tell them?”
    “It’s a short tour. Only thirteen shows. My
mama still wanted to come with me. I was tempted, but I’ve got to
stand on my own two feet sometime,” she said with a shrug that
indicated a casualness she didn’t feel.
    “You said they were against a music career
for you anyway.” Sioux nodded. “My mother is the same way, but she
knew this is what I was going to do. I started playing when I was
so young, I don't remember wanting to be anything else. Other kids
wanted to be firemen, I wanted to be Bryan Spencer," he said then
continued in a softer tone, “Do you still want to be a star?”
    Now that was the question and one she
didn’t really have an answer for. “I have no idea. When my parents
disbanded Honeychile and sent me off to rehab I thought my life was
over. Of course I know now that they were saving my life. But I
hated them for it. Honeychile was my life. My identity. It’s hard
to know who I am now.”
    “I can see that. I’d probably feel the same
way. I just love to make music. I mean, I got incredibly lucky to
be in Storm Crow, but I could be a session musician or songwriter.
I suck at it, but I would be perfectly happy with that.”
    “You do not suck as a songwriter. Your song
“Perish” is absolutely amazing. I listened to a lot of your cuts in
and out of rehab and I think you’re badly underrated.”
    She watched as color rose in his face.
“Well, thanks. Bryan is the main songwriter, I just putz around a
little bit.”
    “Yeah, I know and he’s great. I think that’s
part of the problem. People are so blown away by his songs, they
overlook yours.”
    “You may be right. So, if you can’t be a
superstar anymore, do you still want to make music?”
    “That’s a good question. For the longest
time being a star is all I thought about. I mean, we won “Sing!
Sing! Sing!” when I was like twelve and for the next decade being a
star is all I did. But, you know, getting these songs
together…thinking about music and performing and how much I love
it…yeah. I think it’ll be okay.”
    He nodded and pulled her closer against him.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
    The kiss when it began wasn't like their
previous kisses. It wasn't tentative or searching. They both knew
what they wanted and what to expect from the other. She knew he
loved it when she stroked her tongue across the roof of his mouth
and she did so again and again, thrilled by the