Read Online When We Were Sisters by Emilie Richards - Free Book Online Page B

the table for now, and we’ll see what they come back with.”
    â€œI wonder if I’ll know when to stop touring or recording or even singing in the shower. Don’t you wonder if you’ll know when to let go for good?”
    â€œSometimes.” He sounded like he was trying to be agreeable.
    â€œI’m serious, Donny. When will you have another chance to watch the sun rise with a cup of coffee in your hands and nowhere you have to be right away?”
    â€œCould you be happy without performing? Because it jacks you up. Every time. You fly high for hours afterward.”
    â€œBut I don’t want this to become an addiction, you know? I already have a recurring nightmare. I’m in the audience at a stadium in some city or another, and I’m sitting in a wheelchair down at the front because I’m so old I’ve forgotten how to walk. But that doesn’t seem to matter because I’m still trying to find a way to get up on the stage and perform.”
    â€œYou’re making that up.”
    â€œI wish.” I smiled a little. “Well, okay, maybe. But the scenario’s in my thoughts a lot. I’m forty-two, on my way to a facelift, and sure, lots of people older than me continue to do extravagant world tours. The Stones and the Beach Boys are going to die onstage, and maybe Cher. But I paid close attention last time, when we set out on that tour from hell. It took at least two days to set up for each concert. We had four container trucks loaded to the ceiling, six buses and seventy-two staff, if you include my cook and Andy. Remember Andy? The personal trainer who quit halfway through because the schedule was too grueling? And let’s not forget the musicians, dancers, backup singers, the stagehands and construction engineers.”
    â€œSo? You gave a lot of people jobs and made a lot of fans deliriously happy.”
    â€œI made myself sick. I made myself crazy. And I can’t know for sure that if I don’t stop pushing so hard it won’t happen again. I’ve been warned.”
    â€œI think about a different life, too. It’s almost impossible to imagine one when every second isn’t a competition or a negotiation or a pep talk.”
    â€œI’ve had my share of your pep talks.”
    â€œHere’s another in that long line. You already know the documentary can both help or hurt your career. You’ll seem more human—that’s the good part. On the other hand, you’ll seem more human and—”
    â€œThat’s also the bad part,” I finished for him.
    â€œI know this is incredibly personal for you, that you want to share the realities of foster care with the world. That you want to change lives...”
    I nodded, waiting, because I heard a “but” coming.
    He hesitated, then he smiled. Donny doesn’t smile a lot, but the room warms when he does. This one was gentle, the way one good friend smiles at another when bad news is on the way.
    â€œWhose life do you want to change, Cecilia?”
    â€œMine, of course, and the people who watch the film.”
    â€œHow about Robin’s?”
    I pondered that. “Everything we do changes us, doesn’t it?” I asked at last.
    â€œNice save. So let me rephrase. Have you invited her to be part of this for herself or for you.”
    â€œAre you questioning Robin’s credentials?”
    â€œI could. She’s a talented photographer, but she’s never done anything quite like this.”
    â€œMax Filstein says she can do anything she wants. She’s that good. I asked him specifically if she could handle this project, and he said of course.”
    â€œDon’t forget I was at the party where you and Max had that conversation. What he said was that she would be perfect for the project if she can achieve the distance she needs.”
    â€œRobin knows me better than anyone. She took off the rose-colored glasses a long time