The Rockstar Chronicles

The Job

I think Mom could've won the Olympics, the way she sprinted to the phone. I hid my grin underneath my hand and tried to exchange the let's laugh at Mom look with Grady, but he was staring intently at her. Time to flee. I half-rose from the table, bowl and coffee cup in hand, but I stopped midway. My curiosity got the better of me, and I lowered myself slowly back into my seat, sprinkling a few extra pieces of cereal in my milk and moving it around as if I were still eating. This was one conversation I wanted to hear.

"Hello?" my mother asked breathlessly despite the moment she took to smooth her hair, straighten her shirt, and compose herself. I couldn't help but grin again. I didn't even bother trying to hide it this time. No one was paying attention to me anyway.

"Yes?" Her voice was questioning, uncertain. "I thought you might be calling." Mom's voice cracked nervously, and she paused a moment, eyes closed, before continuing. "Good news, I hope?"

I watched as a huge smile spread across her face, and she looked up at the ceiling, triumphant.

"Well," she said, all confidence now. "We thought as much. He does have such talent. I suppose I shouldn't brag, but," she tittered, "it's obvious, isn't it? And they appeared to get along so well...."

She stopped, apparently having been interrupted by the caller at the other end of the phone. She'd never learned that most people do not enjoy listening to someone going on and on about their kid and their accomplishments.

"Yes, yes, we can certainly be there Monday morning."

I furrowed my brow, puzzled. Grady definitely had school on Monday, and I had personally witnessed Dad put his foot down last year about his missing school for auditions. I suspected Grady had already missed at least one day to go to this most recent one. I wonder if Dad knows.

"Uh huh, uh huh." I watched Mom take notes. She scribbled furiously with the pen, flipping over the page as she ran out of room. I frowned. "Yes, we'll have our lawyer look it over as well." She listened and wrote for several more minutes, and I waited patiently. By the look I was reading on Grady's face, she was going to be explaining a lot and very soon.

Finally, Mom hung up the phone and joined us at the table. Grady sat, his chair pushed away from the table and his arms crossed over his knees. He lifted his gaze from the floor to our mother.

"Well?" he asked. "What is it?"

"Grady, I just want to say, I am so proud of you." The look of adoration and pride in her eyes should have made me feel sick, but instead, I felt a stab of jealously.

"Mom. I want to know what this is for. It's more than just a music video, isn't it?" Grady asked.

Mom nodded happily. Reaching out with both hands, she grasped both my arm and Grady's. Her grip was hard, and her nails dug into my arm. It looked like a touching family moment, but the tension in the air was palpable.

"Kids, our lives are about to change. Forever!" Mom exclaimed.

That sick feeling appeared in my stomach once more as I stared down at the soggy bits of brightly colored cereal drowning in my bowl of now dingy milk. But I like my life the way it is, said a small voice inside me. I didn't say it out loud. I knew what the response would be.

The words kept echoing in my brain over and over. Our lives are about to change... Forever.... A sudden anger came over me, and I glared at Grady, blaming him for all of this. Why does he have to be so perfect? Why does he have to be so good?

I wanted to hate him, but when I really looked at him, I saw myself. He looked just as sick as I felt.

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