Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Everyone’s in town this weekend, and by everyone, I mean Nola’s here, along with her brother, Rhett. He was on a business trip and thought he’d stop in for a few and check out the mysterious Beaumont. It’ll be nice to get to know him a little. Quinn seems to really like him. Noah and Peyton are also here, although Noah hasn’t left since I returned. I have to admit, we’ve never been particularly close because he’s five years older than me, but he’s been a good friend these past few weeks and has even taken me to chemo. I told him he could drop me off and pick me up later, but he stayed in the waiting room and bugged the nursing staff for the entire duration of my treatment. He wanted to make sure I had enough to read while I was sitting in the chair. Unlike Los Angeles, I’m the only patient in there most days, and I have to say, I envy the people who only go once a week. I know eventually that’ll be me, but until then I’m going to be jealous of them. Their recovery time is much easier than mine.
Elle’s gone back to work—sort of—and when I’m feeling up to it, I go with her. Liam’s studio is small, and really only meant for one artist to come in and record at a time. Unless they’re invited by Elle or Liam, the studio is a pay by the hour place. Artists can come in and record themselves singing and make a CD, but they’re on their own. Elle has brought in a couple people she’s come across at Ralph’s, but one wasn’t willing to work with her because she didn’t have any “big” acts tied to her name. When Elle told Quinn this, he cackled, and proceeded to tell anyone who would listen he’s a nobody in the music industry. I think he’s pretty proud of himself with his newfound status. Usually, he’s Harrison James’s son. It seems mainstream media forgets Quinn’s his own person.
Being at the studio is fun though. I like to watch Elle work. Beforehand, when we were in Los Angeles, she’d be in her office or in the production booth, and I’d be in mine. Very rarely could I sit and pay attention to how she works. She’s extremely determined and focused, and I find her to be kind to the artists she brings in. She has an eclectic taste in music, which I find refreshing.
The first time I ever sat at the front desk in Liam’s studio, the phone rang. He has a landline. Once I saw it, I fully expected a rotary phone, but it’s this crazy contraption with caller identification, hold buttons, and multiple lights that flash in red, green, and white. I made the mistake of answering the phone one time and having to set up a schedule for someone who wanted to use the recording equipment. An admin assistant, I am not, but I tried. Thankfully, Betty Paige told me to let the calls go to voicemail and she’ll take care of them when she’s out of school. She comes in every day and on the weekends and mans the phone, books out the studio, and collects payments. She told me it’s better to work for her dad, than her mom. I’ve half expected Mack to be there, learning the guitar, but he spends most of his time at the photography studio across the hall. Taking photos is his passion, according to Liam.
I’ve also found out that Mack is living with the Westburys full-time now. Nick went to South Africa at Christmas and hasn’t returned. I get the sense Liam is put off by this, but he doesn’t let it show around Mack. By all accounts, Liam is playing dad to a very impressionable young man, who is a three-sport athlete, part of a student government, learning to drive, and taking photography lessons. Elle says Mack is also a straight A student and won’t do anything to mess up his relationship with Liam and Josie.
Speaking of Elle, she’s stressed. I can see it in her eyes. It’s almost as if some light is gone from them and it breaks my heart. I try to assure her, I’m fine. That I’m playing Star Wars with the tumor and totally beating its ass, but I don’t think my words register all the time. At night, when we lie in bed, the worry she feels shows on her face. I wish I could do something to help her, but the words I say fall flat. I can’t tell Elle that I’m okay, because she knows I’m not. It's like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Noah and Quinn come into the house, dressed for the lake, in shorts and T’s. They smell like they’ve bathed in sunblock. The one odor I can still smell perfectly well.