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The Christmas Dash

Page 82

by Leah Dobrinska

Beth

Gabe finishes the gentle ballad, and at the raucous applause of the crowd, he breaks into an upbeat version of “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town.”

I bop along and scan the gym. Elena is sitting in a reserved seat off to one side of the stage. She’s grinning with her eyes locked on her son. If pride needed a picture, it could be her in this moment.

Almost everyone has a phone pointed at the stage, recording Gabe’s performance. He’s yukking it up with his fans, pointing at them, shooting off winks, ad-libbing the lines. He’s so obviously in his element that he may as well have it tattooed on his forehead: Born to Perform.

My heart gives a tiny quiver.

How will I ever be enough for him? Why would he ever choose me, choose us, when all of this is out there waiting for him?

I don’t know how I’ll ever compete, and when he gets tired of me or when we disagree, won’t he turn to the masses who are more than happy to praise him and give him everything he wants in terms of showering him with affection?

Worse, what if all of this becomes so big—so overwhelming—that he starts making choices to numb some of the burden? What if alcohol or drugs change him from my Gabe into a man I don’t recognize? It’s happened to me before with my dad.

I shake my head and take a deep breath. I’m getting way too far ahead of myself. I need to chill.

Jack appears at my side. “Pretty amazing, huh?”

I nod but don’t respond out loud. I’m afraid my voice would crack as my concerns fizz to the surface.

“The people love him.” Jack bobs his head over the crowd.

I paste a smile on my face, because I can be cheerful with the best of them, but suddenly my heart feels like it’s on the verge of breaking. I need a breather.

“I’m gonna go check on Ivy.”

Jack nods, keeping his eyes on the stage.

I weave back through the market and busy myself with helping shoppers at the football booth alongside my best friend.

Gabe’s songs provide an amazing ambiance for the event, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love hearing his voice.

When he ends his set, the gym feels emptier somehow.

I keep one eye on the stage, watching as he mingles with his fans. One of our local police officers serves as his temporary security as he signs autographs, laughs, and chats everyone up. There’s a line that’s formed for photos, and it winds all the way back to our booth.

When he finally gets through it, he makes his way over to us and pulls me into a hug.

“You were incredible,” I say into his neck. “Sorry I couldn’t stay over there. Duty called.”

More like you freaked out and bailed.

My mouth feels like I inhaled a dry cookie, and I have to swallow a couple times to force my expression to its natural resting place, but for once, Gabe doesn’t seem to notice. My heart stutters—not in a good way. He’s too amped up on his performance to see me like he usually does.

“Thanks, Bethy.”

Ivy reaches out and high-fives him. “You brought the house down. Not that anyone’s surprised.”

Gabe shrugs off the praise. “I’m glad people came out. Hopefully it helps the kids.”

“It definitely does,” she says.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Sorry, this has been vibrating like crazy.” He swipes and his eyes scan the screen. He frowns.

“What’s up?” I ask.

“It’s my manager. I’ve gotta give him a call.” He motions toward the hallway. “I’m just going to go out there where it’s quieter.”