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He watched Sam joke around with the kids, laugh and chat with Olivia about her day, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He told Sam he had a massive headache, and would it be okay if he skipped the T-ball sign-ups? Normally he would never miss something like that, but right now he just didn’t have the heart. It wasn’t so much that Brad had gotten in his head. More like he’d said things that had been echoing around in there for weeks.

He headed to the town square and sat on a bench. It was 5:00 p.m. on a bright spring evening. The little park was pretty dead, a few dog walkers, a couple groups of kids playing softball on the green space, some workers heading home for dinner. Suddenly a thin, gangly man with scraggly long gray hair surrounding a crown of baldness approached him.

“I know you,” he said, waggling a finger.

Lukas extended a hand. “Lukas Spikonos.”

“Victor Irving.”

Of course. The town’s resident ex-rocker. His one hit song had gone platinum, way back in the seventies.

“I’ve been following your career. Makes me remember my own rise to fame.”

“It’s been a crazy ride,” Lukas said.

“I started out like you, many years ago. After my big hit, I thought the fame was going to last forever. I loved it, all of it—the fans, the applause, the beautiful women. Everyone wanted a piece of me. It’s like a drug, man.”

Lukas could relate. He loved the writing. The performing. But he never was one to believe he was something special. It was hard work and luck that had brought him to where he was. It wasn’t so much that he loved the fame but the validation it had brought him. It had made himsomebody.Frankly, he wasn’t sure who he was without it.

“Yep, you never know how long it’s going to last.” Victor rambled on about how he’d been discovered, how he’d come up with the music and lyrics to his song. He’d been telling that same story for years. A little sad, to see that his one moment in the spotlight had defined his entire life.

Out of the blue, a nicotine craving hit Lukas. The first in a while. What Brad had said about Sam going on the road seemed right to him—she’d hate it. She wanted a home and a settled life, family, friends, community. He understood—he knew deep down—that Mirror Lake was a big part of her. If he settled here, would he have what it took to make a real family? To make Sam happy?

What would happen if he slowed down, cut way back on the touring?Slowing downhad never been part of his nature. He’d be washed up within a year, replaced by any one of the younger, brighter talents trying to pound the door down, looking for a crack to break in. Then what would he replace his fame with?

He loved Samantha, he was certain of it. But he sure could use a guidebook on being a father and taking Stevie on the road and keeping up his career and doing what was best for her life, too.

But like so much of life, there were simply no instructions.