Capture the Wind for Me (37 page)

Read Capture the Wind for Me Online

Authors: Brandilyn Collins

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“Oh, Bobby, I'll take care of her.” Katherine waved a hand. “You know we'll be just fine.”

“I'm sure you will. But, Jackie, what do you plan to do after the concert?”

I bit my bottom lip. “Mostly just talk. We just want to be together for a while.”

“Where? I can't imagine that you can go out to some restaurant without being bombarded by fans. You certainly can't go to his hotel room. Nor do I want you two wandering about Lexington at night. That's a city with a whole lot more crime than Bradleyville, I can tell you.”

Judgment crept into Daddy's voice. Katherine pressed her lips. “I'll be close by, Bobby,” she insisted. “We'll find a way for these kids to be together without being too alone, okay?”

Uh-oh. I could sense the tension underneath the surface. Daddy didn't mean to sound distrustful of her abilities, I told myself. All the same, she had never been a parent, while he'd carried that responsibility solely since Mama died. If he appeared overbearing on my account, I could understand it, even as I felt a bit of indignance for Katherine. Now, looking back, I realize part of his anxiety lay with Katherine herself. She'd played through city nightlife alone in the past. Now she'd pledged to be his wife, and he wasn't thrilled with the idea of her going to Lexington without him. Especially when she seemed so excited about it.

Daddy opened his mouth to say more, but the defensiveness on Katherine's face held him in check. He would not argue with her in front of me. Instead, he managed a smile. “You two are goin' to have a terrific time,” he said. “Just . . . don't forget who loves you at home.”

I learned a number of things about Katherine on that drive to Lexington—not so much from what she said as the way she said them. She talked about Mama, and how she knew we all continued to miss her very much. She talked about my daddy's loyalty and stability. Daddy was a man to be counted on, a man good to his word, Katherine said. She could trust him. I think she told me these things to help put my mind at ease about the marriage.

I watched her profile as she gauged the curves in the road, her long red nails firmly around the steering wheel. Her lipstick matched the nails, her dark hair sleek against summer-tanned skin. She wore white slacks and a blue satiny blouse, gold bracelets on her wrist. I'd laid out three outfits the previous night, finally deciding on a white skirt and pink lace-trimmed top. I'd put on makeup, fussed with my hair, done everything to look my utmost. But I would never come close to Katherine, not in a million years. I felt mighty glad she was my daddy's fiancée and not one of my girlfriends, or surely she'd have turned Greg's head.

But then, Greg found himself surrounded by beautiful girls every day, didn't he?

Katherine's exuberance grew as we neared Lexington. I was simply too excited about seeing Greg to be concerned by it. In fact, her attitude made me feel closer to her than I ever had, for I read it as an empathetic reflection of my own feelings. We checked into our hotel, then shopped at the downtown stores. “No time to go all the way over to Fayette Mall,” she told me. She oohed and aahed over one outfit after another, and spent over three hundred dollars at one boutique. “Don't know where I'll wear these in Bradleyville,” she commented as she handed the salesgirl a credit card. “Your daddy and I will just have to go out more, I guess. Maybe come here overnight sometimes.”

“Oh, Jackie,” she exclaimed at another store, “look here! This is the perfect outfit for you to wear tonight.”

I glanced down at my clothes. “I thought I'd wear this.”

“No, no, I've figured all along I'd buy you an outfit. You haven't been to a concert before; you don't know how the girls dress. They wear glittery stuff, you know, clothes that are really fun.”

She held up shimmery black pants and a matching sleeveless top that swirled gold and green into the black. A small purse, beaded and fringed, hung across one shoulder and to the other side of the top. “Wow,” I said.

“Try them on.” She pushed the hangers into my hands.

The outfit looked sensational on me. I stood before the mirror, ogling myself. Greg would just die.

Katherine paid for the clothes, all grins, shunning my effusive thanks. “Just you wait till I do your makeup.” She winked.

I could barely eat our early supper, excitement tying my stomach in knots. All I could think about was Greg—the feel of his hair in my fingers, the way he kissed, his smile. Back in the room, Katherine told me to wash my face and get dressed. Greg's ring proudly hung against my new shirt, golden and blue. Then she put makeup on me as I perched on a chair, my back to the mirror. “Don't want you to see till we're all done,” she declared.

“What's that?” I asked as she pulled off the cap of some shiny stick.

“Glitter.”

“Glitter?”

“It's the new thing to wear, Jackie, especially to a concert.” She rolled it high on my cheeks and patted, then across my shoulders. Finally she pulled out glitter hair spray and applied it with wide sweeps of her hand. She stood back and looked at me critically. “You're done,” she announced. “Glory, do you look incredible.”

She pulled me up and turned me around to the mirror. I gawked at myself. High cheekbones, even skin. Glossy pink lips.

“Move a little and you'll see the glitter.”

I angled my head left, then right, watching the light play subtly on the silvery bits in my hair and on my cheeks. “I thought it would look like, you know,
glitter.
That thick gold stuff we used for crafts in Sunday school.”

“Not at all. It just gives you a little sparkle.”

I gazed at myself again, hardly believing my eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt truly beautiful. Gratitude surged through me. Even Mama would not have known how to make me look like this.

“Thank you,” I breathed, hugging Katherine with all my might. “Thank you!”

“Okay, okay,” she laughed, pushing me away. “Don't ruin your makeup.” She fetched my purse, putting inside a tissue, the lipstick, and glitter. “Put this over your head carefully; don't mess up your hair.” I slipped it onto my right shoulder, the bag resting against my left hip.

Six o'clock. Time to go. I could barely breathe.

We took a cab to Rupp Arena. Katherine insisted it would be easier than driving ourselves. She was right. I couldn't
believe
the traffic jam. Girls hung out of convertibles and car windows, honking, singing, the cars streamered and plastered with pictures of Greg and his group, messages written in soap across the windows. “We luv LuvRush!” The group's music blared from CD players, and girls called back and forth, fairly jumping up and down. The air pulsed with excitement and energy, and we hadn't even entered the arena yet. We paid the cab driver and walked the last few blocks, swept along with the crowd of laughing girls, many with their mamas. Amazing, but the parents seemed almost as wound up as the teenagers. I felt a momentary twinge inside, seeing them and their daughters having such a good time together.

Katherine couldn't stop smiling. “This is so fun!”

We pushed through long, chattering lines until finally finding ourselves inside. The arena looked huge to me, its seats already filling. Fans milled and yelled to one another, bouncing oversized balloons across the crowd. A long, high ramp stretched from the stage to a platform in the center of the arena, surrounded by lights and sound equipment and cameras. Above the stage was suspended a large screen. In forty-five minutes the show would begin.

Katherine and I wound our way down front and showed a security guard our backstage passes. He pointed toward a corner door where other personnel stood. Once through that door, we were stopped by a huge man, his orange security vest tight across his chest.

“Greg Kostakis is expecting us in the dressing room,” I told him. “Jackie Delham and Katherine King.”

He looked us over suspiciously. “Hold on a minute.” He pulled his walkie-talkie off his belt. “Gary. You know anything about a Jackie Del-ham and Katherine King seeing the group?”

I waited on pins and needles. What if something went wrong?

The walkie-talkie crackled. “Yeah. Bring 'em on back.”

Katherine and I sighed in relief. “You'd think we were going to see the king,” she breathed.

The man gestured with his head. “See all those girls out there? To them, you are.”

He handed us off to Gary, who escorted us to the dressing room door. “Wait here. Let me make sure everyone's decent.”

I stood with hammering heart and knocking knees as he disappeared inside.

“Do I still look okay?” I whispered to Katherine.

“Honey, you're gorgeous.”

The door opened. “All right, you can come in. You'll need to leave in fifteen minutes.” He stood aside, and somehow my feet moved over the threshold.

Clothes hung everywhere, long lighted mirrors running the length of one wall. I recognized all of the band members at once—Demetri on a couch, Alex before a mirror, Lysander singing as he buttoned a shirt.

“Jackie!” Greg materialized from behind a partition, and his face lit up. He rushed across the room, then stopped before me, grabbing my hands. “Ah,” he breathed, drinking in the sight of my face, my clothes. “You are so beautiful.”

I couldn't say a thing. Not one tiny sound. He looked better than I'd even remembered, the bruise long healed from his face, his brown eyes reflecting the gold sparkles in his shirt.

“Ah,” he said again. He put a hand against my cheek, brushed back my hair. I knew his friends watched, and somewhere behind me stood Katherine, but we didn't care. I laid my hand over his. “Greg.”

He cupped my face with his hands and kissed me.

“Whooo, Kostakis!” rose a chorus of cheers from his friends. I only half heard them. Greg's lips lingered, and I wound my hands around his neck, thinking I could die right then and there.

Greg pulled away, murmuring, “I love you.”

“I love
you,”
I whispered.

He smiled at the ring around my neck, picking it up to admire it. “Looks good on the chain.”

Then, grinning like the Cheshire cat, Greg introduced Katherine and me to his friends. Katherine raised her eyebrows at me, most assuredly over the kiss, and I looked away, embarrassed.

“Such lovely ladies!” Demetri pronounced, kissing Katherine's hand with a flourish. She laughed, clearly pleased.

“I see why Greg talks about you much, Jackie.” Alex swiped playfully at his shoulder. “You are more beautiful than your picture.”

Our fifteen minutes practically flew by. The door opened and closed as people began hustling about with last-minute details. Greg introduced us to the stage manager, who breathed a harried “welcome,” then gathered the group to talk over various points about choreography and microphones. Katherine and I sat on the couch and watched, fascinated. Greg broke away from the others, and we rose to meet him.

“Sorry you must go.” He spoke rapidly, his expression almost preoccupied. “We have little time, and the warm-up band does not play long. We must do things.”

“Are you nervous?” I asked “Always before a concert.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders. “Tonight I am more nervous because you are watching.”

“You shouldn't be! You know I'll love everything you do.”

He smiled. “I have a surprise for you. I hope you like it.”

I nodded, and Katherine said, “She will.”

“Hey, Greg,” someone called, “they still riding with us afterwards?”

Greg hit his forehead. “You drive here?” he asked me.

“We took a cab.”

“Good. Come here after the concert, and you can go to the hotel with us in our bus. I will let Gary know, okay?” He looked to Katherine for approval.

I could only imagine what Daddy would say, but Katherine gave him a grand smile. “That will be great.”

He clasped his fingers around my neck. “I hope you do not mind the bus and everything. It is . . . the fans are everywhere. This is not like Bradleyville, Jackie. But it is my life.” He searched my eyes, his own begging for acceptance.

“I love your life, Greg,” I assured him. “I love
you.”

I would not understand until later that night why he thought my acceptance may be so hard to give.

chapter 42

I
t feels so good to be back here!” Katherine exclaimed, turning around from our front-row seats to sweep her gaze over the arena. The place was almost full.

“How are the people way up there going to see?” I asked, pointing to the topmost level.

“They can see close-up by watching the monitor.” She pointed to the giant screen above the stage. “But believe me, the closer you can get to the front, the more exciting it is.”

Soon after 8:00 the houselights dimmed, and the warm-up band took the stage to play four numbers. Their music was fast with a heavy bass that beat right through my heart. I had never heard music that loud in my life. The crowd applauded, yet somehow I sensed they held back, their enthusiasm waiting to spill for the band they'd come to see. Still, I had no idea then just how much enthusiasm that would prove to be. After the warm-up band, a clock appeared on the screen, ticking down the minutes and seconds until LuvRush would take the stage.

Twenty-nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds.

I swiveled this way and that, watching people. Katherine was right—the girls had spiffed themselves up, glitter and all. One large group of friends wore matching white shirts with “LuvRush” spelled across the front. Others wore LuvRush T-shirts with a photo of the group. Such a strange feeling I had, seeing Greg's face on the clothing of all those girls.

Vendors came by, selling soft drinks, candy bars, and glow-in-the-dark wands.

Nineteen minutes and twenty seconds.

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