Claire and Sam both try to get into contact with me, but I ignore their calls. I know Sam is pissed at Claire, and I know Claire wants to talk about how Sam is pissed off at her. And I don't want to hear it. Besides, I have more important things to think about. Like, you know, the competition that I didn't want to enter, but was somewhat forced into. Since I'm not working for a week (Suzie is out of town doing some family thing), I spend my time trying to find the right piece, and when one doesn't jump out at me, I just pick one. I know I won't be able to play it with feeling, but if I practice enough then I might be able to play it with perfection. Then maybe, just maybe, I can make some kind of impression on the judges and the people from Juilliard. I spend three days in my room with nothing but the sound of my violin to keep me company. My mom comes in every so often to tell me how lovely I sound, but I can't stop myself from hearing the part of my music that's missing. It's so obvious to me that I don't understand how my mom can't hear it as well.
Playing the violin also keeps me from reliving the stupid thing I said to Conner on my way to take him to his motel room. He hasn't tried to make contact with me since. At first, I tell myself that it's because he doesn't have my phone number. But then I remember I gave my number to Wesley. So if he really wanted it, he could get it. Basically, I totally blew it. Just as I feared. Man, I don't know why I couldn't just keep my big fat mouth shut. Why I couldn't have just listened to his story. Why did I have to put in my two cents? I feel like a jerk. And an idiot. So I put all of my energy into the violin. What better distraction could I ask for, right?
On the third day of playing the violin almost nonstop, I decide to take a break and grab a bite to eat. This isn't, of course, my first break in the three days. But it is my first break today. And I know my mom just went to the grocery store the day before. So I put my violin down in the open case beside my bed and make my way downstairs. When I walk into the kitchen, I'm surprised to see a pretty redhead sitting at the table. I have no idea who she is, and I'm just about to open my mouth and ask her when I see my brother hand her a plate of something that smells and looks like stir fry. She grins at him, collects a bite with her fork, and stuffs it into her mouth. Then she gives him a thumbs up, and he smiles.
Oh my God. This is the girl. The mystery girl my brother was talking about. I shouldn't be here. I should give them their privacy. I'm just about to turn around and go back up to my room, deciding I'll get a snack later, when she spots me. Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then they brighten up as she gets to her feet. My brother follows her gaze and sees me standing in the living room. He winces slightly, but he stands up too. And I know there's nothing else I can do. Their private moment is ruined and running away would be really rude. So I reluctantly enter the kitchen, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear nervously.
"Hi," the girl says sweetly. "You're Lauren, right?" I nod my head, and her smile widens. She holds out her hand. "Hi, Lauren. I'm Amanda. Your brother has told me a lot about you."
"Hello," I reply, shaking her hand. "It's nice to meet you. He's told us about you, too." I throw a quick glance at my brother, who looks paler than usual. It's obvious he was not intending for any of us to meet this girl for a while. "You're the one who's teaching him how to cook, right?"
She nods her head. "Well, I'm trying at least. He's been a challenging pupil, but I think he's finally getting it." She looks at him, and I see the same sparkle in her eyes that he had a few days before when he was cooking us breakfast. She winks at him, and he smiles.
"Well, whatever you're teaching him, please don't stop," I say. "He came over the other morning and cooked us breakfast. And it was de-li-cious!"
"Oh, that's great!" she says, and she claps her hands. "See, he always wants to go out to eat. But I go to the culinary school in Spokane, and I'd much rather cook the meals than spend the money, you know?" I nod my head. "And I've been showing him while I cook. Lately he's been helping me. Which is really sweet. I'm glad he's showing off his new skills for you guys!"
I smile, and I'm just about to respond when Dallas cuts me off. "Lauren, don't you have some practicing to do?" He looks over at Amanda and says, "She plays the violin. And she's got a competition in a few weeks."
Understanding dawns across Amanda's face. "Oh, that was you! The music, I mean. I could hear it down here, and I was wondering where it was coming from."
I slide my hands in my pockets. "Yeah, that was me."
"You play really well," she says kindly. I smile shyly, but she shakes her head. "No, really! My best friend plays the guitar, so I'm used to people playing music. And you blow her out of the water." She leans in and whispers, "Don't ever tell her I said that though. She would totally kill me."
I laugh, half at her words, and half at the idea the guitar and the violin are anything alike. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." I take a step back. "Well, hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you guys. I just came down here to get a snack, but I can come back later."
"Oh nonsense," she says, waving her hand. Then she looks up at Dallas. "There's plenty of food left, right?" He reluctantly nods his head, and she turns back to me. "Please join us. I'm a little biased when it comes to his food, so it would be nice for him to have someone try it who isn't."
"What makes you think she's not going to be biased?" he asks.
She laughs. "Are you kidding? Siblings are never biased. Am I right, Lauren?" I smile and nod my head. "See? She'll tell you the truth. Go make her a plate. Let us girls chat!" She grabs my arm and walks with me back to the kitchen table. I should be alarmed by this, but I'm not. I actually think it's adorable. She can't be any older than twenty-four, which is young for my brother. I wonder if that's why he's trying to hide her from all of us. Maybe he thinks we'll all judge him for dating a girl who's so much younger than him. Honestly, Dalton and Dakota might. But not me. I think it's cute. I think she's cute.
We sit at the table and talk. She asks me all sorts of questions about Dallas, and I can answer most of them. But I try to embellish some to make him seem cooler. It's obvious to me that he really likes this girl. And I don't want to be the one to mess it all up for him. After a few minutes of us chatting, he finally realizes I'm not going to sabotage him, and he joins in the conversation. It turns out to be a really nice afternoon. Amanda and I have a lot in common. She's been cooking since she was about four years old, and she's had a passion for it ever since. Just like me and the violin.
"Your brother is a really picky eater, though," she says, and she gives him a playful glare. He winces and shrugs his shoulders. "But we're working on it. He's getting a lot better. Especially with me cooking for him all the time."
"Well, if you ever want more practice, I would be happy to be a taste tester," I say. "I'm not nearly as picky of an eater as my brothers."
"That's good to know," Amanda says with a smile. "And I might take you up on that." She pulls her phone out of her pocket and checks the time. "Oh shoot. I should get going. I'm sorry, but I have to study for a test tonight." She gets to her feet, and Dallas and I follow suit. Then she walks over to me and holds out her hand again. I take it. "It was very nice to meet you, Lauren. I've been asking Dallas about his family for a long time, but he's so secretive about you guys. I've honestly been expecting you all to be horrible."
"Don't count your chickens before they hatch," I reply, fighting back a laugh. "You have yet to meet Dalton and Dakota. I'm the nice one."
She waves her hand. "I'm sure they're great, too. One of these nights I'll have to come by and cook you guys dinner."
"That'd be great," I say. "It was nice meeting you, Amanda. And thanks for letting me intrude on your lunch." She waves her hand again. Wow. I really like her. Well done, Dallas! "Come by again soon, okay?"
"For sure," she responds. She walks over to the door, and Dallas follows after. "Bye." I wave goodbye and watch as they leave the house. I wait in the kitchen for Dallas to come back in, and he does about five minutes later. His eyes are all gooey and he's got a lovestruck smile on his face, with just a hint of Amanda's lipstick on his lips. But the dopey look disappears when he sees me.
"All right," he says as he folds his arms across his chest in a defensive pose. "Go ahead. Let me have it. I know you've been dying to this whole lunch."
I smirk at him, but I shake my head. "Actually, I think she's really great. I don't know why you haven't brought her over sooner. Mom's going to love her."
A slow smile creeps up on his face and his eyes light up. "You think so?" I nod my head. "That's great. I've been seeing her for a long time, but I've been nervous to bring her here. I haven't even told anyone about her because I'm anxious about it all. No one has ever made me feel this way." Oh man, can I relate to that. I nod my head and smile, because I know exactly how he feels. "God, Lauren, I think I love her."
This surprises me. I've known Dallas... well, my whole life. And he's never talked like this before. He's never acted so nervous about anything or anyone. Usually, he's a prime example for someone who's cool and collected. He's always much calmer than our other brothers, who are slightly obnoxious and silly. I've been told he was fairly popular in school, even though I was really young when he graduated. But as far as I know he still is, even though he spends a good amount of time in our dad's shop. But he's never had any girlfriends. At least none he's ever brought home. So seeing him like this is really nice. It makes me happy he's so happy. Because even though he can be a pain (as all siblings can be) I know he really deserves it.
"Well, I really like her," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Bring her by again. Introduce her to the family. I mean, if you've really been together a while, don't you think it's about time?"
He contemplates this for a few seconds, and then nods his head. "I guess you're right. It's just scary, you know? To take that step with someone? I care about her a lot, and I've never been happier than I am right now with her. But there's always that little voice in my head telling me I don't deserve her. That she's way smarter than me. Much more talented. And that she deserves someone like her. You know what I mean?"
"Maybe," I say. "But just because you feel that way doesn't make it true. And it doesn't mean she feels the same way about it. It's her choice, right?" He gives me a skeptical look. "Listen, I'm your sister. I'm not really supposed to say stuff like this. But you're a catch, Dallas. You're really nice, and... ugh, you're decent looking. For a brother." He laughs, and I smile. "Don't be so down on yourself. You deserve someone like her."
He hesitates for a moment, and I know he wants to say something else. "I've been thinking about things lately," he says. "About you leaving and everything." The knot that's always lying dormant in my stomach tightens. "And I'm really proud of you, you know? You have a dream, and you're going for it. You aren't stagnant. Not like us boys. But you've kind of inspired me. If you can do it, then so can I, right?" I nod my head slowly, wondering where he's going with this. "I'm thinking of quitting the shop. I'm not happy there, and I feel like I can do better things with my life. I want to go to college. I want to grow. Like you."
This also surprises me. Wow, Amanda has really had quite the impact. "Well, I think you should follow your heart." He makes a disgusted face, and I giggle. "I know. Super cliché. But I'm serious. I know that Dad loves having you in the shop. But I think he'd be really proud of you for choosing to do something else. Something you want to do. You only have one life, Dallas. Live it the way you want to live it. What do you want to do, anyway?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure. I figured I could go to North Idaho College and get a general degree. Who knows, maybe I'll find out what I want to do while I'm there." He runs his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I mean, I love Dad, and I'm proud to call him Dad. He's a great man, and I don't want him to think I'm taking anything away from what he does. I just don't want to do it. Not anymore. There's more to me than grease and oil and car parts. And I've never explored that part of me before. But I'm getting older, and I think I want to figure out who I am. While I still can."
We stand in silence for a few seconds. I hear a car pulling into the driveway, and I know our mom is home. And I know Dallas is not going to want to continue this conversation in front of her. So I walk forward and give him a quick, encouraging hug. "I think this is all so great," I whisper. "And I think you should go for it. All of it." I hear our mom's footsteps coming up the walkway. "Bring her over. Introduce her to Mom and Dad. Take that step. I don't think you'll be disappointed." He nods his head, and we both turn just in time to see our mom walk through the door.
"Oh," she says, and I can tell she's surprised to see us. She smiles and says, "Dallas, I didn't know you were here. Where's your car?"
"Ah, my friend dropped me off a little bit ago," he replies. "She's borrowing my car for a little bit, so Dakota is coming by later to take me back to my place."
My mom nods her head. "Oh. Okay. Well, help yourself to anything in the kitchen." I smile. As if she has to give him permission. She turns and looks at me, and my smile falters. "Hello, sweetheart. How's the practicing coming along? I heard you this morning before I left for work. You sounded wonderful as always."
I give her a grin, hoping she can't see how nervous I am. "Thanks." Then I look between my brother and mom and say, "Well, I think I'm going to go back upstairs. I have a lot of work to do, and I still have to find a piece for Suzie."
"Okay, honey," our mom says. "Well good luck. I'll be in my office if you two need anything." I smile. We haven't bothered her in her office in years, but she tells us this almost every time she goes in there. You know, just in case we need her. Dallas and I nod our heads and watch as she walks down the hall to her little office, probably to grade papers for summer school. She's a high school music and history teacher, which is another reason why she and Suzie are such good friends. She closes the door behind her, leaving my brother and I alone again.
We stand in the living room in silence for a few seconds. They I smile at him and say, "Well, my music is calling." He nods his head. "I'll see you later, Dallas."
"Okay," he says. I turn around and begin to make my way back up to my bedroom and my violin when he calls my name. "Lauren," he says, and I freeze on the steps. I look at him and he grins, a little embarrassed. "Thanks," he whispers. "For... you know, the chat."
I grin back at him. "Any time, Dallas." Then I continue my way up the stairs, into my bedroom, and to my violin. I lift it up out of the case gently, place it firmly against my chin, and start practicing again.