Two Steps Back (11 page)

Somewhere in her clouded mind Alex was aware that too many seconds were ticking by, and Marcy was beginning to look alarmed. What was going on? Why had Alex stopped speaking?

Tommy must have also sensed something was amiss. Gently taking Alex by the wrist, he directed the microphone toward himself and cleared his throat.

“So, Alex!” he said cheerfully. “The one thing our band doesn't yet have is a name for our trio. We keep going back and forth, debating what would be best. We thought you might have an idea?”

Alex opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a sort of “gng-gnh.”

“I have an idea!” said a voice just off camera.

Ava stepped into the shot and moved between Alex and Harley, so that the three Sackett kids were all next to one another. For a second they stood there, saying nothing. And then Ava stepped on Alex's toe. That seemed to restart her engine, and she found her voice. “This is my twin sister, Ava Sackett,” she said. It was as though she were a windup train that had temporarily gone off track but had been set right again. She was back in the moment, smiling at the camera. “Ava, what's your suggestion for a name for the trio?”

Ava was wearing her AMS football jersey—without pads, of course—and had styled her hair and added a sparkly clip. Alex could see she was even wearing lip gloss!

“How about Trio Grande?” suggested Ava with a shy smile.

Tommy, Jackson, and Harley looked at one another and then at the camera. “That's awesome!” they said.

The audience applauded.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” said Alex, back to her bold, confident self. “May I introduce—the Trio Grande!”

The audience burst into applause again, and the concert began.

Ava sat at a little table close to the front of the room, listening to Tommy's trio perform as the television cameraman darted forward and backward, filming them from all angles. The trio was amazing. They played three numbers, all original compositions, which elicited enthusiastic clapping and cheering from the audience. Ava noticed that even Marcy Maxon seemed to be enjoying the music, tapping her high-heeled foot in time to the beat.

The applause was thunderous when they'd finished, and people flocked to the little table where Luke was selling the EP.

After the show, Ava joined Alex and the television crew outside. It was growing dark, but the lights from the café flooded the sidewalk in a golden glow. Tommy, Jackson, and Harley stood near the front entrance, surrounded by admirers and well-wishers.

“Ah, so here's the reclusive twin sister who doesn't like the spotlight,” said Marcy when she saw Ava.

Ava wasn't sure if she was supposed to laugh at that or be offended. She acknowledged the comment with a little smile.

Marcy turned back to Alex and resumed what she had been saying. “The band is fantastic, no question,” she said. “And now we've got footage of your twin sister, so that's good too. But we're missing an important angle—the Coach Sackett perspective. Without hearing from him, this piece feels incomplete. I'm sorry, Alexandra, but I just don't know if it's going to be compelling enough to run.”

Ava saw Alex's face fall. Her chin began to quiver slightly, but if Marcy noticed, she did not acknowledge it. She gave her crew a little nod, and they began to fold up their equipment.

“Wait!” said Ava.

Everyone stopped and stared at her, including Alex.

“Please don't go yet,” she said. “Wait here for just two more minutes. I'll be right back.”

She didn't look back to see if they complied. She raced down the street, past three or four closed storefronts. She sped around the corner and stopped, panting. There he was.

“Coach! Wait up!”

Her father turned and waited for her to approach.

Panting, she grabbed his arm with both hands. “Coach, Alex needs you. Will you talk to her for her story, on camera?”

He frowned. “I promised Tom I wouldn't be a presence tonight for his big performance. It was fantastic to be able to listen to them from the stage-door entrance, and I'm grateful you got me there. But he doesn't know I was there, and I don't want to steal his spotlight.”

“Coach. The concert is over. He'll understand. And we can ask him first to make sure. Just please, please come? For Alex?”

That seemed to clinch it. He followed her back to the Press.

Marcy Maxon glanced at her sparkly watch for the third time in three minutes. “I'm sorry, Alexandra,” she said. “We need to get going. I have to edit the other story for tomorrow evening's slot.”

Alex willed herself not to cry. “I understand,” she said in a tiny voice. “I'm sorry it didn't work out.”

“Marcy, look who's coming,” said Candace, gesturing down the block.

Alex looked too. Ava was coming toward them at a race-walk pace, followed close behind by their dad. Alex held in a gasp.

“Well, well, well,” said Marcy. “It seems we might just have an angle after all.”

Coach shook hands with Marcy and the rest of her crew. “I understand you need a statement,” he said with a wry smile.

“Coach Sackett!” said Marcy, in a breathy voice. “How nice of you to join us! Yes, we would be delighted if Alexandra could conduct a quick interview with you on your thoughts about Tom being a musician.”

Marcy's whole demeanor had transformed. Suddenly she was all smiles and seemed a little abashed to be in Coach's presence, as though he were a movie star or something. Sometimes Alex forgot that her dad had this effect on people.

“Sure,” said Coach. “Where would you like us to stand?”

“Wait!” said Alex.

Everyone turned.

“I need to get Tom's permission,” she said. “After all, this is his story.”

“You're right, Alex,” said Coach. “Go ask him.”

Of course Tommy was fine with it. “Heck yeah,” he said. “This piece of yours has been the best free publicity anyone could ask for!”

By this time Tommy, Harley, and Jackson had joined the rest of the group outside the café. Their well-wishers moved over to the interview area to watch.

The cameraman gave the signal, and Alex stood side by side with her father. She beamed into the camera, once again feeling electrified and euphoric as soon as the little red light went on.

“We're rolling,” said the cameraman.

“So, Coach Sackett, I mean, Dad,” said Alex, “how do you feel about your son pursuing his artistic dream?”

“I'm proud of him. Truly, deeply happy that he's become the person that he is.” Coach was also very relaxed in front of the camera. This didn't surprise Alex, of course, as he'd been mobbed by the press ever since he'd accepted the position of coach of the Tigers, and he'd done dozens upon dozens of interviews.

“And what if one day soon, your son chooses music over football? How will you feel then?” It was a question Alex had been longing to ask her father for some time now. How weird that she was finally asking it of him here, in front of a crowd and with a camera rolling.

Everyone waited to hear what Coach would say.

Coach considered the question. “I've said this to my children many times: Sports don't matter. And yet, they matter a great deal. That's a paradox we live with.” He beckoned to Tommy with a finger, and Tommy wove his way through the little crowd until he was standing before the camera alongside Alex and their father. Ava stepped into the frame as well, and Coach put an arm around Tommy's shoulder. “I have chosen to pursue a path where sports matter a great deal. But my one hope for my children, besides good health, is that they choose to pursue a path that leads to a rich and satisfying life. Not just the life of the body, or even the life of the mind, but the life of the heart. And if Tom's heart tells him that music is what matters most to him, I will support him, gladly, and with all my heart.”

Alex, who had been holding the microphone for her father, nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Marcy pump the air with her fist. She supposed that meant that Coach had come through with what Marcy wanted.

“Thanks, Coach,” said Alex, and with her eyes she told him just how much she meant it.

“That's a wrap!” shouted Marcy, and everyone clapped and cheered.

After the news crew left and Tom, Harley, and Jackson went off to sign CDs for people, Ava found herself alone with Alex. Ava could see the gratitude in her sister's expression.

“Ave,” said Alex. “Thanks so much for coming to my rescue there. I don't know if I would have recovered from the shock if you hadn't stepped on my toe when you did.”

Ava smiled. “It was no big deal,” she said.

“And to think I ever thought that Luke—”

“Hey, Luke!” Ava said loudly, interrupting her. She'd seen him approaching.

Alex stopped abruptly and turned toward him.

“Hey, Alex,” he said. “I hope I didn't throw a wrench into the works, asking Harley out on camera.”

Alex laughed lightly. “Oh, no, it was totally adorable!” she said.

“Yeah, well, I don't know if you know about it, but for Homecoming, they have a contest every year for who has the best surprise-ask. And I've kind of had a crush on Harley for months and was finally starting to think maybe it was reciprocal, so I took a big chance and asked her.” He grinned sheepishly.

Ava whacked him over the head with a rolled-up program. “You sure did take a chance! Lucky for you she said yes.”

Alex smiled. “Marcy says she's going to keep that part in the piece,” she said. “She thought it was cute too.”

Luke grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. “Awesome. Thanks again, Alex.”

Alex waited until he was several steps away from them to cover her face with her hands and groan.

The following afternoon the girls were in the kitchen, helping get ready for Harley, Jackson, and Luke, who were all coming over to watch the segment air. Their mom and dad were in the living room, arranging chairs in front of the TV.

“Did Marcy tell you exactly what time it would be on?” Ava asked Alex as she dumped popcorn into a big bowl.

“Toward the end of the half hour,” Alex replied.

Ava knew her sister well enough to see how nervous she was.

Ava heard a tap at the kitchen door and went to open it. It was Coach Byron, along with Jamila and Shane. The kids gave Ava a big bear hug, and then dashed past her to pet Moxy, who had jumped up to greet them, her tail wagging wildly.

“Hey, Coach B,” said Ava. In all the excitement of preparing for the airing of the news story, Ava had almost forgotten to worry about him.

“Hello, girls,” said Coach B. “The kids and I are on our way home, but I just wanted to stop by and thank you for what you did.”

Ava darted a look at Alex. What was he talking about?

“Oh, it was nothing,” said Alex. “We're just really glad it all worked out!”

“It was a really great thing, and I am much obliged,” he insisted, and shook each girl by the hand. “Shay. Mila. Let's go, guys. We have to get home in time to watch the big news story!”

And with another thanks and hugs from the kids, the Hardy family headed out again.

Ava turned to Alex, hands on hips. “What in the world did you do, Al?”

“May I remind you that I am a PR person by training?” said Alex with a sly grin. “I set up a network, like a babysitters' club. When Coach Byron needs a sitter, I send out an all-points bulletin to everyone, and the first to respond gets to sit for him. Lindsey heard about it from the captain of the Briar Ridge cheer team—they're doing the same thing for a teacher at their school who has three kids and whose husband's been deployed overseas. I told Daddy about this, and he's going to put off that conversation he had been dreading having with Coach Byron.”

Ava regarded her sister with newfound admiration. “That's amazing, Alex.”