“Wow.”
“Have you ever felt that?”
He didn’t answer. He seemed a little frightened of her.
“You can go back to Laura,” she said. “I shouldn’t have tried to pressure you. It was selfish of me, and I wanted to tell you that. I want to be a better person. If you just want to be friends with me, or whatever, it’s really all right. I’m sorry I pressured you.”
He stared at her. “Do you not want this?”
“I don’t know. I did, but—I’m saying there’s no hurry. I bet if you went back to her now—maybe you should go back to her. Tell her you’re sorry and see if she’ll play with you.”
“We’re going on in ten minutes!”
“You can be a little late, no one’s going to leave. You should go. Just go. Go get Laura.”
Tanner seemed confounded. “But you made such a big deal out of this.”
“I’m sorry! It was wrong! I’m sorry!” Becky threw up her hands and found a loaf of bread in one of them. She set it down on a table arrayed with church-related literature. Tanner enveloped her again.
“You’re the person I want to be with,” he said. “I should have been clear about that. I’m crazy about you. This is going to be a really hard show, but I’m not sorry about Laura.”
Over Tanner’s shoulder, Becky saw Clem standing halfway down the corridor. He looked—demented. A few hours ago, she’d wanted nothing more than to be seen in Tanner’s arms, and now the impediment of Laura had been removed, now her wish was coming true; but the person seeing her was Clem.
She wriggled free of Tanner. “You need to go and get her.”
“No way.”
“Well, someone needs to get her. You need your full sound tonight.”
“I don’t even care. The only thing that matters is that you believe in me.”
“Yes, but you still need to get her. Just say—whatever it takes, just say it.”
“Are you saying you don’t believe in me?”
“No, I do, but…” Becky imagined Gig Benedetti’s disappointment, his anger, when the Bleu Notes took the stage without the singer he’d come to hear. It was all her fault, and she had to make it right. “Where does she live?”
“At this point, I doubt she’d even let me in the door.”
“I’m saying let me go. I owe her a huge apology anyway.”
“Are you kidding me? The only person she’s madder at than me is you.”
“Where does she live?”
“In the apartment above the drugstore. With Kay and Louise. But, Becky, there’s no way.”
She buttoned her coat. She was reluctant to part with the cheese-and-chive bread, but it wasn’t a convenient thing to carry around. While she considered where to hide it, Clem walked up.
“Clem,” Tanner said nervously. “Welcome back.”
“I need to talk to my sister.”
Becky unfolded a church bulletin and draped it over the bread, concealing it no better than she’d been concealed by Tanner’s blanket the night before. Tanner collared her from behind and kissed her cheek. “Don’t go anywhere,” he said. “I need to know you’re in the audience.”
He hurried off toward the function hall. The pleasure of his kiss had been killed by the discomfort of Clem’s seeing it. Without looking at her brother, she ran outside. There was a new layer of snow on the shoveled pavement, and Clem was right behind her.
“Stop following me,” she said.
“Why won’t you talk to me? Are you high on drugs? I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Leave me alone!”
She slipped on underlying ice, and he caught her by the wrist. “Tell me what is going on.”
“Nothing. I have to talk to Laura.”
“Dobrinsky? Why?”
She wrenched her wrist free and pressed onward. “Because Tanner needs her to play and she won’t do it.”
“So, wait. Are you and he—”
“Yes! Okay? I’m with Tanner! Okay?”
“But when did this happen?”
“Stop following me.”
“I’m just trying to—you’re with Tanner?”
“How many times do I have to say it?”
“You only said it once.”
“I’m with Tanner and he’s with me. Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. I’m just surprised. Davy Goya said—are you smoking pot now, too? Is that because of Tanner?”