The door to the rehearsal room opened just as they finished their last number. All four looked expectantly at their manager, Jim, in hushed excitement.
"Well, we didn't do too bad," he drawled. Nikki's hands curled into fists, although she continued smiling.
"And?" she asked. Ivy gripped the neck of her bass, and Emily stood up, drumsticks clutched in her hands. Sabina leaned against the wall.
"As of today, Mermaid's Twilight is at number 10. I'd say we've got a good one."
The room exploded into noise as the four girls cheered. Before long, they had a calendar and atlas out, and began setting tentative dates.
"We can start in three months, I would guess," Jim said.
"Only if you want to go without me," Ivy said. "That's June; I'm going to be in Portugal after the fifteenth. I promised Nuno."
"Well, we can't let you break a promise to him; you'll drive us all crazier than you are now," Sabina teased. Ivy blushed.
"I doubt it," she replied with a grin. "It's not like you were ever sane!"
Rehearsals got lively; they had their own tour now, and slowly built up to full, two hour concerts. When the time came for Ivy's trip, they had the song order and everyone needed a break, mostly from Ivy, who drove them all crazy in her excitement.
"Ivy, wake up." She slowly opened her eyes to meet Nuno's brown ones, and he smiled. "We're here. Ruben says he's got a bed for you. Do you want to walk in?"
"I haven't been this dead in at least a year," she mumbled, her voice muffled and tired, "and don't laugh at me. Can I lean on you?" He helped her out of the taxi, and she wrapped her arms around his waist as if she were afraid she'd fall. In her exhaustion she followed him wherever he led, and didn't notice the smiles exchanged by the brothers or hear their quiet comments.
They met in Ruben's luxurious front room after Nuno had put Ivy to bed. The guitarist sat stiffly in the only straight -backed chair in the room, hands clasped in a white-knuckled grip in front of him. Finally, he relaxed, and Ruben tried to read his brother's eyes as he looked around the room at the silk curtains, the plush carpeting, and the antique and obviously expensive furniture.
"You've changed," Ruben said softly.
Nuno grinned. "It's been nine years," he reminded his brother. "And you... you're not the same either."
"I have the excuse of being married," Ruben laughed. Nuno nodded.
"And I became American." He thought a minute. "I never did thank you two for helping me out. It made a big difference in everything."
Silence fell as the two sized each other up. Nuno really liked what he saw; much less of his own parents, which helped him to relax. Something was different - maybe that the strictness and formality he felt to be the curse of the family had been softened in Ruben's face. Ruben, too, was surprised at what he saw. The youngest of the family had grown up well, and although he had turned out very different from the rest of the family (his parents would have a hard time with the long hair and earrings), his eyes spoke of honesty and a peace he hadn't had nine years ago.
"What are you doing?" he asked finally. Nuno brought himself back to reality with a jerk.
"I'm... a musician." He grinned suddenly. "I'll have to see if Ivy will sing Saturday. She's much better at it than I am." Exhaustion suddenly hit him, and he shook his head. "I'll have to tell you sometime how I met her, but..."
"You're tired, and I've been terribly impolite," Ruben said and stood, then hesitated and looked at his younger brother. "We weren't sure - we do have a second room, if you need it."
Nuno stared at his brother, fighting himself. All his thoughts from the flight and the drive out came back in a sudden rush. He desperately longed to go to her... "I'd better take it," he finally sighed.
Intrigued, Ruben watched the expressions on Nuno's face as he thought about it, and he began to wonder about his brother's feelings toward the girl. "Not happily," he responded.
"No, not happily, but it's a long story," Nuno returned.
"This way, then." Ruben led to way to the room next to Ivy's, at the end of a short hallway. From his tone of voice, Nuno knew his brother had a lot of questions and couldn't suppress a smile.
"Patience, Ruben. I promise not to leave without explaining everything," he said, walked into the room, and closed the door. Ruben stared at the door for a little while, then turned and walked back down the hallway, past the living room to the large staircase that lead to the rest of the house, wishing he understood.
"Is it always so formal?" Ivy whispered a couple of days later. They were at the opening social (or so she would have called it), and it took place in the back yard of the manor house. The huge affair filled the back yard with long buffet tables and tents to cover them. All the men, even Nuno, wore suits in the oppressive summer heat, which Ivy thought ridiculous, although Nuno looked wonderful in a suit, especially with his long black hair. But then, all the women wore long dresses, even herself, and she hated it.
"Always," he answered softly, although he really didn't need to. But he seemed to be so much more withdrawn here; he did not feel part of the family. "Next week will be easier; we'll be on the beach." He glanced around, then looked at her and had to smile in response to the grin on her face. "What?"
"I've never seen you so nervous. I think if you had the choice you'd run," she said.
He nodded, then his smile faded. "You're right." He gently touched her face. "Ivy, they expect me to perform something on Saturday - all of the children have to." He didn't add that they thought they'd get a good laugh at him. It made him furious, and just a little sad that they thought so little of him.
"You don't want me to sing do you?" she asked cautiously, hoping not to put the thought into his head.
"I thought 'More than Words'..."
"If we can practice." She glanced at him, eyes wide. "You mean no one knows?"
"I have two nephews who love Extreme - and Warrior, by the way - but no, no one knows it's me." He had an odd expression on his face, and suddenly Ivy wished they were back home in the relatively uncomplicated rock world.
"Nuno, what kind of a family is this?" she demanded.
"A very old, very traditional one," a voice responded behind her, with accented English. Both of them turned to see Fatima, Ruben's wife. "Nuno, your parents want to see you."
He nodded nervously. "Will you stay with Ivy?"
"Of course," she smiled. They watched him walk off, and Ivy noticed how tense his shoulders were. They had to hurt. She reluctantly turned to Fatima.
"He doesn't... trust his family, does he," she said.
Fatima looked at the petite redhead in surprise. "Why do you say that?" she asked.
Ivy shook her head. "I don't know how much..." She looked at the other woman and smiled, wishing she knew what to tell her. "How well do you know him?"
"Barely. I met him only a couple of times before he left and not many more times after. I spent some time in America, and it was my host family that fostered him nine years ago."
"He never told me that," Ivy mused, wondering just how well she knew her friend. "But it explains why you speak English. I'm glad you do." She glanced in the direction Nuno had gone. "It can't be easy for him. He hasn't been here for nine years?"
"Actually, he was here last year, with a friend. His name was..." She paused, and Ivy grinned, remembering Pat and Paul's woeful looks at the end of their tour together.
"Gary Cherone," she said.
"Yes. Do you know him?"
"Yes, I do. He's insane."
"Who is?" Nuno asked, his voice tense. He'd come up behind them and neither of them had seen him. Ivy looked at him closely.
"Gary," she answered.
"Excuse us," he said to Fatima. The petite woman nodded as he took Ivy's hand and led her off.
"Are you okay?" she asked, worried.
"They were angry because you didn't come with me to see them," he told her.
"Holy cow! Are you sure you want to stay?" she asked, pulling him to a stop. He shook his head and urged her forward again.
"No, I don't, but I promised I would. It may be another nine years before I come back, though," he growled.
"How much can I tell Fatima?" she asked after a short silence.
"About?" he asked, preoccupied, and Ivy began to think she would not like his parents, especially if they put so much pressure on all of their children.
"About you, Extreme, Warrior."
"What you want." His gentle pressure on her hand made her turn her attention to where they went. He led her up the steps of the large house to the porch, where two people sat. Before Nuno could even say anything, his father asked a question, his eyes on Ivy. She looked expectantly at Nuno, who answered. No one said anything, but then his father began speaking, his voice slightly louder. Ivy did not understand a word, but as Nuno's mother said something, she got the distinct impression that they were yelling at him, especially since his grip on her hand tightened as the one-sided conversation continued. After a minute, she touched his arm. He finally said something in a tense voice, which made them stop yelling at him, and turned to her.
Ivy could not speak for a minute as she looked at him. "What are they saying?" she finally asked softly, almost intimidated. His drawn face and his eyes plainly told of the hell they were putting him through.
He sighed. "They're yelling at me because you don't speak Portuguese," he answered.
"For Pete's sake! You may have to stay here, but I don't!" She pulled her hand from his grip, walked off the porch and through the crowd to the edge of the yard, where she got herself oriented, and left, fighting tears. She had no desire to make Nuno's time here more miserable, but felt that she couldn't stay. These people were too strange. She didn't understand them at all, and frankly, she didn't want to. Her inability to speak the language wasn't the only reason she didn't understand, either.
Nuno watched her go and let the frustration and anger surface that he'd suppressed all day. "Great job," he said sarcastically. He spoke a little louder than he planned, and silence spread through the gathering. He didn't notice. "It really doesn't seem to matter if she speaks the language or not, I thought she made herself understood very well. She is a very important part of my life, and certainly one of the only reasons I even came; without her I wouldn't have lasted today.
"I promised to stay the whole time; I will. But I'm going to try to convince her it's worth it to stay here with me. I'll see you tomorrow." He spun and stalked off through the family, who silently made room for him; even then he didn't notice them, or the wave of talking and gossiping that followed him out the gate.
Feelings ran though him as he walked - frustration, hopelessness, love.... He ran his hand through his hair. He'd had similar feelings as a teenager. He felt like he had no control of his life, he had to play some game and no one would tell him the rules. Well, that would stop right now. He had his own rules now.
He walked into a quiet house and wondered where Ivy was. Sure she had taken the bus just before his, he checked her room. It did not surprise him to see her sitting on the bed with her back to him, playing her bass. She had changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and looked much more comfortable. He walked over and sat next to her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. She leaned against him.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's just...." She couldn't say what she wanted to, didn't dare.
"It's okay," he soothed her. Tomorrow should be interesting, he thought.
"No. It sounded to me like I was a spoiled brat, like I was blaming you. I wasn't."
"I know, Ivy." He took her bass and set it down. "Saturday they'll know, Ana's boys won't be able to keep quiet about it. They're anxious to meet you; they have all sorts of questions about America."
"Oh, great." They sat quietly a minute, and Nuno began to relax. Then she interrupted the silence. "So, do you want to put on a show for them, or what?"
"What?"
"Saturday. Just how do you want to do this?"
"Two stools, a guitar, and you and me. Dress nicely but comfortably."
"Oh, I will. This long dress thing is bogus. I don't understand your family," she told him. He laughed.
"Neither do I," he admitted. "But then, they don't understand me. So I guess it's even."
"I do understand why you ran away," she smiled, and held him close, then suddenly laughed. "Here I am, supposed to support you, and end up making it worse. I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You're doing fine."
After a short silence, Ivy looked up at him. "Can we practice now?" she asked timidly.
He glanced at her. "Nervous?" he asked with a smile.
"Yes. I haven't heard you perform in a year or so, and we have to agree on the ending," she grinned. "And besides..." She paused, deciding not to tell him how much she loved listening to him play.
"Besides?" he prompted.
"I'm not sure I can remember the words. You may make your reputation worse than it already is." He laughed.
"I don't think it's possible. Come on." Her hand slipped almost automatically into his as she followed him to his room. He handed her his guitar and sent her into the kitchen so he could change. When he got to the kitchen, he found she had set up two chairs and sat in one, waiting for him.
Fatima and Ruben walked in as they finished for the third time, voices blending in beautiful harmony, and the happiness that shone from the two surprised them. The last note died out in the silence, then Ivy impulsively threw her arms around Nuno's neck and kissed him soundly.
"And you worry how she feels about you," Ruben muttered good-natured in Portuguese.
"I'm so glad you guys did that song," Ivy whispered at the same time. She felt so happy and warm inside, unable to put her feelings into words, even if she'd wanted to. Here, next to Nuno, she'd found the safety she'd always wanted.
"That was wonderful!" Fatima exclaimed as Ivy reluctantly released Nuno, who looked at her, slightly dazed. Ruben swallowed a laugh as he noticed his brother's confusion.
"Thank you," he mumbled, then shook his head, setting his thoughts in order. "That was beautiful. We'll have to see if we can tape it Saturday." He suddenly grinned. "And show Gary you do sing as well as he does!"
"He'd kill me," she grinned.
"Not with Nuno there," Fatima said, and smiled at Ivy's blush. She decided to talk to the girl about Nuno; both she and Ruben could see the hard time he was having. "Ivy, will you help me? Ruben and I didn't eat much, and we're hungry. Are you?"
"Yes," Nuno said. Ivy laughed as she stood.
"You're always hungry," she teased, then turned to Fatima. "I'd love to help." She jumped as Nuno tickled her.
"There's nothing going on tonight?" he asked, warding off Ivy's hands as she tried to retaliate.
"Not until tomorrow. There's dinner," Ruben answered, and left the kitchen. Nuno captured Ivy, gave her a quick kiss, and followed his brother, grabbing his guitar as he left the kitchen.
Fatima began pulling things from the icebox, and Ivy watched her. "What can I do?" she asked, still breathless and smiling brightly.
"Talk to me," Fatima smiled. "I'm curious. That's one of my favorite songs. Where did you learn it?" She decided to start the conversation, then work it around to Nuno.
Ivy grinned. "I heard it 4 - 5 times a week for eight months," she said.
"Where did Nuno learn it? Ana's boys have been trying to learn that for a year now."
Ivy stared at her, speechless. The petite, dark-haired woman finally turned to look at her, worried. "Ivy? Are you okay?"
"You have no idea, do you?" she asked in disbelief. She hadn't really been able to believe that his family didn't know, and began to realize just how foreign his family was, even to the man she loved. She'd never met the Malone's, but hearing him talk about them made her think they were just like his family. This bunch was totally strange and very...
"No idea about what?" Fatima asked innocently, breaking into her thoughts.
"Nuno didn't learn the song, he and Gary wrote it."
Fatima stared at her, shocked and slightly embarrassed. "He wrote it?"
"Yes. He doesn't trust his family, does he."
Fatima blinked and turned back to slicing cheese. "That certainly explains why you think so," she said softly, shaking her head. "His parents thought all his talent went to waste when he left."
"It didn't." Ivy leaned against the counter next to Fatima. "I still consider him one of the most talented people I've met. Extreme, his band, is definitely one of the best bands I've ever heard."
"How did you meet him?" Fatima had forgotten about her purpose to find out how Ivy felt about Nuno.
"Nuno? We... it's a long story, but the short version is that we opened for Extreme during their Pornograffitti tour. I play bass for a band called Twilight Warrior."
After a surprised silence, Fatima laughed delightedly and turned to look at Ivy. "They're in for a surprise," she smiled. "First of all, they're expecting to have a good laugh at Nuno. They don't think he can play anymore. Second, Ana's boys are going to go crazy." She laughed again. "I can't wait!"
"The family doesn't like him much, do they?" Ivy asked. Fatima finished arranging the plate and lifted it, sobered by the question.
"I don't think so. Ruben and I, Ana,... we still love him. I think everyone else feels he's ruined the family name. They had a big discussion about it after you two left today. But it didn't matter when he wasn't here; out of sight, out of mind. No one ever talked about him while they didn't know where he was. It's very obvious that he didn't like his upbringing."
"Yes, and it's just as obvious that they don't like him. But I think this trip is making him more bitter about it than he was originally." Ivy smiled. "The last thing he needs is another depressed person. So, we smile!" She grabbed four plates and followed Fatima into the next room.
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