Smiling at Everything

"You heard me," Jazz's father stated, "Or did your recent surgery affect your hearing?"

Jazz could see the faces of the band members alter from their once serene states to that of disbelief and confusion. Except Dorian, who looked absolutely overjoyed that he was getting some form of entertainment.

"Don't accuse me of not being there for our daughter, Richard," Jazz's mother growled.

"Now, Clarice," Robert cut in, "I'm sure that's not how he meant it. Don't get riled up over nothing."

"Stay out of this, Robert," Jazz's father commanded.

"Do not speak to him like that. He's not your child," her mother said.

"Jazz may as well not be your's."

Jazz's smile stayed painted on her face. She knew this would happen. It was only inevitable that this argument start and escalate past the point it was at. In her history of knowing her parents, she had rarely seen them act civil towards each other. After they divorced, they stopped caring about what people thought about them and argued at almost every chance they got.

She just happened to be the weapon they used in a good deal of their arguments.

"Don't start with me. You were too busy screwing around with your secretary to be in Jazz's life," her mother argued.

Jazz shook her head, smile still on her face. That was what she was waiting for, the mentioning of adultery. Her friends didn't seem to see it coming judging by the varied shocked reactions. Even Neon looked shocked.

But Neon knew about her parents' affairs. Jazz remembered telling her. In fact, Neon had seen them fight before about this very subject a few years prior. So had Arpeggio, who happened to be in the room at the time. Maybe Neon forgot. Or maybe Neon didn't think they would bring something that personal up in the argument in front of so many people.

"What about you and the pool boy, the gardener, our pastry chef, the mail man, the stable hand, and our butlers? It’s a surprise Jazz doesn't have mixed up family values because of you," Jazz's father stated.

"Me?" her mother screeched.

"Clarice, calm down," Robert commanded.

"What did I just tell you, Robert? Stay out of this. Jazz is not your daughter. This fight does not concern you," her father said.

Jazz didn't see how it mattered to anyone. It wasn't like her parents actually cared about her, not as an actual child.

Regardless, the fight could only get worse.

Jazz looked at Neon, catching the lead singer's attention with a pleading look. "Help me" she mouthed. Neon read the words perfectly from Jazz's lips, as she had trained herself to do back in middle school.

It was much easier than passing notes.

Neon stood from her seat, Novella in arms, "Mrs. Presley, why don't you and Robert come with me to the food tent. I'm sure Robert would enjoy seeing that."

"That sounds spectacular, Neon," Robert agreed, "Clarice, lets go see it."

Jazz's mother held a glare with her ex-husband, "Fine."

"Here," Neon handed Novella to Jazz.

The baby didn't stir in Jazz's arms, instead snuggling into her chest. Both babies found comfort cuddling against Jazz when she babysat them. In fact, most people Jazz knew cuddled against her chest, fans and significant others alike. The action didn't throw Jazz off. She was used to it by now. She had to get used to it. She didn't have a choice.

Jazz smiled her thanks to Neon, who smiled in return. The lead singer quickly led Jazz's mother and step-father from the room, away from the argument that once was taking place. Tension gone from the room, Jazz turned to her father.

"Thank you for coming," Jazz stated.

"I was in town so I decided stop by and see how things were," Jazz's father responded.

Jazz nodded. She didn't doubt that he was here on some business-related matter. It was either that or some new fling. If he was still with that woman he was with last time Jazz saw him, she would be in the room meeting RxN. Her father had a habit of bringing his fling for the week with him on trips.

He had gone through so many women after the divorce that Jazz stopped trying to name them.

"The maids took care of your penthouse yesterday afternoon. They'll be cleaning it every two weeks till you get back just to make sure it stays neat," her father stated.

"That sounds fine," Jazz replied.

Why did he have to mention the penthouse and the maids in front of her friends? She understood that she needed to approve the maids' new work schedule but he could have talked with her over the phone or by e-mail. It was enough that her friends were meeting her parents. She didn't need them to know about her penthouse.

"E-mail me when you return and I'll change their schedule again," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"I won't be staying to watch you perform. I have a business dinner to attend."

"I understand."

Her father reached into his pocket and pulled out a light blue box with the words "Tiffany & Co" across the top. He handed the box to Jazz. Keeping Novella balanced in her arms, she opened the box, revealing a shining diamond necklace. Jazz pulled the necklace from the box carefully. The multi-drop stars pendant shined in acceptance of its new owner. Jazz kept a fake smile on her face, forcing a twinkle to her eyes, and placed the necklace back in its box.

"It’s a good luck present," he said.

More like an attempt to make her hate her mother even more.

"Thank you," Jazz responded.

He glanced at the watch on his wrist, "I should be going. It was nice seeing you. I'll be expecting you at our weekly lunch when you get back."

"I'll be there."

Jazz kissed her father's cheeks, bidding him farewell. Seconds after he left the room, Neon walked in. Alone.

"I see you got rid of your father," Neon commented, taking Novella from Jazz's arms.

"When I asked for help, I didn't mean kill my mother and threaten Robert into hiding," Jazz returned.

"They decided to eat before the concert," Neon replied.

"Is that code for you turned Robert into a cannibal?"

"Its code for you can change now."

"Score," Jazz said.

She walked to the bathroom before anyone could recover from whatever shock they were under. She didn't feel like hearing their comments just yet. And she knew they would say something. It was inevitable.

Jazz stepped out of her heels and stripped her clothing from her body, shoving both back into her bag. She slipped the stripper-like Spiderman outfit and accessories back onto her body. Jazz shoved her hand in her bag, digging around for a moment before pulling out her makeup bag. Deciding it would be easier to redo her makeup in the dressing room itself, Jazz took a breath to prepare herself and left the bathroom for the second time.