Trouble in Tennessee. Tanya Michaels

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ had a great show. I know you tease that your main concern is boosting the ratings, but I think you enjoy helping people. You’re a generous soul.”

      Yeah, so generous she wasn’t even bothering to examine her schedule for the possibility of lending physical and moral support to her only sibling. Treble heaved a sigh.

      “Don’t tell me work’s not going well?” Alana asked, misinterpreting her friend’s brief frown.

      “It’s not the radio thing, it’s…You know the expression ‘you can’t go home again’? Let’s just say I always clung to that as kind of a guarantee.”

      “Okay. And…?”

      “Someone I really care about wants me to take a few weeks out of my life and go home. I think I’d rather have my show canceled.”

      Alana winced. “That awful?”

      “Hard to say. I’ve managed to avoid finding out for the past four years and was tipsy for part of my last long weekend there.” Her behavior had fuelled the fires of gossip.

      While she wasn’t proud that she’d had too much to drink at Charity’s wedding, she didn’t feel she should have to apologize, either. The person with the real right to be annoyed was the bride, who had been so starry-eyed over Bill anyway, she wouldn’t have noticed if Treble had set herself on fire at the rehearsal dinner. In fact, one of the underaged bridesmaids had downed four glasses of champagne at the reception and thrown up in a topiary, garnering nothing but an off-color joke and some pitying “Guess she learned the hard way” comments. Treble, on the other hand, had been a legally drinking adult who neither table-danced nor drove anywhere while under the influence. Couldn’t a girl nurse a broken heart with a few festive libations without, the next day, her stepfather acting as though an intervention was in order? It was as if he held her to a high standard of behavior, then watched her, waiting for her to screw up.

      Harrison had financed the open bar in the first place! Why was it no one minded when weathered, old farmhand Bobby Charles Picoult got buzzed on draft beer and started loudly guffawing at the same anecdotes he’d been telling since Treble first moved to Joyous as a girl? Because Bobby Charles is local color. You’re an outsider. Even though Treble had moved to Joyous right before kindergarten, by the time she’d left, she’d felt completely out of place. She doubted anyone besides her sister had been sorry to see her go. Even poor Charity had probably been relieved at the decrease in tension at home.

      “A few weeks is a long time,” Alana pointed out loyally. “Do you have that much vacation? Whoever asked should completely understand if you say no.”

      “Charity would understand. It’s not in her to whine or hold a grudge.” The thought made denying the request even more difficult somehow.

      Well, Alana’s right, a few weeks is a substantial chunk of time. Weren’t first babies often overdue? There’d been a woman at the station who’d seemed pregnant for, like, a year; by the end of it, she’d been miserable, the size of a house and threatening violent death to anyone stupid enough to ask, “Still haven’t had that kid?” Treble couldn’t imagine sitting around her sister’s house waiting for an unknown date.

      “I know what you mean about not wanting to go back,” Alana said. “I skipped my five-year reunion. I told myself it was because I was busy that weekend and most of the people I cared to keep in touch with, I already was. But that was just rationalizing. At the time, I’d been interning for a company, making less than minimum wage and sharing a closet-sized apartment with three other girls, but that job was supposed to lead to a great full-time position. Until the corporation declared bankruptcy and cut their losses, me included.”

      Treble shot her friend a sympathetic look. Interning had been crucial to getting Treble’s foot in the door at the station, and she would have been devastated if no job had materialized. She loved having her own show, loved her listeners and the relative freedom of sharing her opinion over the airwaves.

      “In high school,” Alana continued, “I was one of those socially acceptable nerds. Chubby and awkward, never with an actual date to a dance, but smart enough that I had my own niche with the other straight-A geeks. So when the reunion rolled around and I was minus a job and plus the college ‘freshman fifteen’ I never lost…It’s frustrating how the least healthy food is usually the cheapest. I felt like a total failure.”

      “You’re not! Corporate America has many problems, none of them a reflection on your abilities. Also, you’re gorgeous.”

      “Now, maybe. And it’s sickening how much I want other people to see that. I’ve asked myself a dozen times why I even care what they think.”

      “Ever come up with an answer?” Treble’s comparatively small graduating class held an annual reunion in conjunction with the town’s July festival. She’d never once been tempted to attend.

      “I don’t know.” Alana shifted on her lounger. “I think for most of us, adolescence is when we were the most insecure and vulnerable. Maybe when we’re around the people who knew us then, we think they can see those insecurities. Or maybe their presence brings back all our vulnerabilities the way catching an old song on the radio can lead to visceral déjà vu.”

      Tell me about it. When Treble had helped deejay parties in college, there were one or two songs with such negative personal connotations that she tried never to play them. Then there was music that to this day made her feel good all over. Particularly the U2 song that had been on the radio her junior year at university when Brady McCall had…

      “Something funny?” Alana asked. “You sure are grinning.”

      “Um, it’s nothing.”

      “Liar.”

      “Ask me about it next time you invite me over for peach daiquiris.”

      “It’s a date.” Alana scowled. “I’m going to hate it when you finally find your dream home and move out of the complex.”

      “Hey, I’m looking in the metro area! Aren’t you spending half your time at Greg’s place anyway?”

      “More like three quarters. So I guess I’m being a tad hypocritical about hating to see you leave. How is the house hunt going?”

      “It’s on hiatus until I’ve saved up more. Nothing I saw was quite right anyway. Even the ones that didn’t need so many repairs felt…off. During a walk-through, I told the agent it’s like the perfect pair of shoes—occasionally I see some that are adorable, match an outfit I have exactly, but when I slide them on, they’re not comfortable. They’re just not me.”

      “Maybe homes are something you have to break in, like boots?”

      “Maybe. But when it’s worth the blisters, you know. No sense in my shelling out my life savings for something that’s wrong. I want a place that’s mine, one where I belong.” Although the only place where she’d truly felt that sense of belonging was at the station, her employers would frown on her sleeping in the studio, but, at least there, they liked Trouble.

      Some of the people in her past would never like her, never approve of her, but avoiding them wouldn’t change that. What if visiting Joyous was not only a chance to help Charity but an opportunity for Treble to return on her own terms? She wasn’t expecting citizens to be thrilled to see her or her stepfather to applaud her job as a titillating radio host, but perhaps once she looked СКАЧАТЬ