Missing Dixie(74)

“There are no guarantees in life,” I begin slowly, hoping a soothing tone will ease the blow of what I’m about to say. “There were none for us and there will be none for Liam. The best we can do is be there, be available to him in whatever capacity we can manage.”

“That’s not good enough,” she says shortly. “I’m sorry, but it’s not. Our paths crossed for a reason. I believe his path crossed with ours for a reason, too.”

“And you think that reason is . . .” She gives me a pointed look and I place my arms back around her and pull her to my chest. “You can’t save everyone, Bluebird. You can’t love everyone all better even if you try your hardest.”

“I don’t want to save everyone,” she says in a sexy pouty voice that turns me on at the most inopportune time. “Just you. And Liam. Is that so much to ask?”

“No, babe. It’s not. I just think it might be a bit more complicated, since Liam is a kid and—”

I’m interrupted by the vibrating of her phone in her pocket between us.

“Speaking of complicated. It’s our complicated blond attorney,” Dixie says dazedly while staring at the phone.

“Answer it. Maybe it’ll be good news for a change. Maybe she called to wish us luck tonight. Or maybe Carl reported me for violating the protection order.”

She takes a few steps to the side to answer and I can barely hear her over the noise coming through the back door someone has propped open.

I walk over to close it but Dallas’s head pops out before I can. “Guys. Get in here. Now. They’re announcing the winner.”

I glance over at Dixie, who holds one finger up signaling that we should wait while she continues her phone conversation.

“We’ll be in there in just a sec,” I tell Dallas.

“Hurry,” he huffs out on an exasperated breath. “They’re making the announcement like right now.”

I nod. “Got it. We’ll be right there.”

He lets the door slam and Dixie ends her call.

She opens her mouth to speak but once again the back door opens and all I hear is cheering and indecipherable noise from inside.

“We won!” Dallas yells into the back alley while hitting the back door hard enough to bruise a few knuckles. “Holy shit, you two. Get the hell in here. We won! We’re officially being signed to Rock the Republic Records. We’re going on tour. Like next week! Get in here right now!”

He’s practically blasting off into outer space. “Slow down, Rocket Man,” I tell him. “Dix? Bluebird? You okay?” She’s stoic in the face of Dallas’s epic news. Not smiling. Not even blinking. “Dixie?”

Even Dallas has begun to look worried. “Dixie? Say something, please. We won.”

She blinks once, then stares at us as if we’re the ones who just returned to reality.

“That was Ashley. She had . . . news.”

Dallas and I wait silently for her to continue. Her eyes are shining but I can’t tell if they’re tears of joy or sadness.

“I’ve just been approved as Liam’s temporary guardian. Starting right now.”





31 | Dixie

NANA USED TO say when it rains, it pours. She had a lot of sayings, but that was one of her favorites. Probably because it was one hundred percent true.

Papa rephrased it a little less gently, something about the shit hitting the fan all at once.

I am certainly finding it to be a true sentiment if ever there was one.

Rock the Republic has been sympathetic to my situation inasmuch as they’ve allowed us to put off touring for several months while I figure out how to manage being a part of my band and Liam’s sole caregiver.

The truth is, though, I’m not the only one in love with Liam.

Dallas taught him how to play guitar and basketball.

Gavin taught him to play the drums.

Despite being an overworked and sleep-deprived brand-new mom, Robyn makes spaghetti every Thursday night because it’s Liam’s favorite.

Mrs. Lawson makes him cookies that he and Gavin openly admit are better than mine. And when I make brinner? Aka breakfast for dinner? They all show up. And not just for my biscuits.

Liam’s laughter, Liam’s smiles, they’re rare—but when they’re bestowed upon you, you can’t help but feel special, worthy, even.

We are a family, ragtag group we may be; we are a loving unit of living, breathing people who would do whatever it takes for one another. If that’s not family, I don’t know what is.

But we are a family that is out of time. Rock the Republic has been generous and genuinely supportive. But they have a tour to fill, vacant concert seats that they need folks to purchase tickets for, and a whole slew of other costs dependent upon me figuring out how to be both Liam’s guardian and the fiddle player and frequent vocalist in Leaving Amarillo.

I know Gavin has forced Dallas to back off on pushing me for an answer, but I also know that if I don’t give them one soon, our band will be replaced on the tour by Midnight Revival—an amazingly talented duo that has been blazing up the music scene.

This morning I have to meet with Ashley to discuss my options. Turns out, she’s not as much like Mandy Lantram as I initially believed. She’s not a succubus in designer business suits. What she and Gavin had was a mutual arrangement between two consenting adults and as much as I hate to admit it, I would’ve done the same thing in her position.