to talk to you about Roxie Taylor. I’m thinking Vanessa might be a better fit for the sets with me. I got Roxie all worked up today … and I just don’t see us having much chemistry when it comes down to it.”
He knew that was a lie. She might not feel it, but even as much as she had humiliated him, he still wanted to wrap his hands all over her body.
“Anyway … think about it. I’d be more comfortable. Vanessa and I have worked well together before—it wouldn’t be as far of a stretch.”
He hung up and felt better, but knew he had another call to make. She answered on the first ring.
“Hi, honey. How did it go today?”
“Hey, Ma. I left early. I’ll go back in a couple days. They don’t really need me yet. Anthony’s got it.”
“Okay, well, do you want to come over for supper tonight?”
His mom had her southern accent still, and nobody anywhere did good southern food like her. He always felt his accent slide on just a little more when he talked to her.
“That’s just what I need, Ma. When you want me?”
“You know you can come over whenever you feel like it,” she said.
“How ’bout I get a few things done around here and then I’ll be over. Is Sierra there?”
“Sure is. She’ll be glad to see you. Come on.”
He hung up with her and felt better yet. Time with his mom and sister always did him good. His dad had passed away a little over five years ago, with no warning. It had shaken their whole world. A seemingly healthy man, he’d had a heart attack in his sleep and died instantly. Nothing would ever be quite the same without his dad. It was part of the reason Beckham was anxious to be done with all the traveling—he knew his mom and sister needed him around more.
When his dad died, months went by that he barely came out of the stupor. His mom and sister didn’t talk about it much anymore, but when they did, they always bawled. He never wanted to put them through that again, and he hoped one day he could make up for the time they’d lost.
He planned to talk them into Italy when the time came. It wouldn’t be that hard—they’d gone to Italy a handful of times together and always talked about what it’d be like to live there. The slower pace of life sounded better all the time.
When he got to the house later that afternoon, he ran up the steps and walked right inside.
“I’m home. Anybody here?” he hollered.
“Back here, honey,” his mom called.
His sister stepped out of the kitchen and came walking toward him. “Hey, stranger. How are ya?”
“Better now. It’s been a long day,” he admitted.
“Well, come on. Once Ma found out you were coming, she put together a feast. You’d almost think you were her favorite or something.”
“No, the daughter always trumps, you know that.”
She scrunched up her nose. “Is that how it works? You better tell Ma that.”
Sierra was a few years older than him and they’d always been close. She teased him about being the favorite, but she had always been so proud of him. He’d tried every tour to convince her to come sing backup with him, but she wasn’t interested. When they finished their family traveling days, she was done . She didn’t want to see the inside of another tour bus.
“I need you to get her to stop trying to set me up. I don’t need a hipster musician. That’s all she wants to set me up with? Give me a nerd any day!”
“Shut up. That’s so offensive!” Beckham jabbed her in the side. “I resemble that!”
She groaned. “You know you’re a nerd in sheep’s clothing. All this hip rock star vibe thing you got going … I know you’re just a nerd begging to be loved.”
He gave her another good jab until she slapped his hand and tattled.
“MA! Beckham is picking on me!” she hollered.
“Oh, please.” He did it again just to annoy her. “Sierra’s calling me names,” he yelled, laughing and backing away as Sierra tried to pinch him.
Their mom came out with an apron on, wiping