I frown. “No. That’s not—”
“It absolutely is, sweetie. You think he doesn’t know what he’s doing? You think a man who’s been living under a spotlight his whole adult life suddenly forgot how the world works?” She smiles and moves her hand to my head, giving my hair a rub. “This isn’t just about you. And it isn’t just about him, either. This is about what kind of life he gets to live. Whether he gets to be honest in it. Whether he …” She shrugs, her hand stopping. “… gets to love who he wants without hiding him away in hotel rooms and closets.”
I grimace.
The last thing I need is my mother picturing what Austin and I might have already done in any matter of hotel rooms.
“He wants to love you out loud,” my mom states simply.
I look down at the floor, struck by her words. I think they hit harder than anything else.
But it doesn’t make me feel better.
I let out a sigh. “And now he might lose everything for it.”
She gently takes my chin and turns my face to hers. I find her eyebrows lifted as she stares down into my eyes. “Or,” she sweetly counters, “he just might gain something he’s never had.”
It’s no wonder where I get my nauseating optimism. “What if it all falls apart?”
“Then at least it all goes to shit honestly.” She shrugs. “And then y’all build something else better. Together. You didnotruin anything. You gave him something worth risking everything for. You don’t think he’s wanted this for years? To break free? You started out as his inspiration, didn’t you? You’re like his …muse.”
“Did he tell you that?” I turn to face her, taken aback. “How’d you know about that?”
She smirks. “He and I have had talks all week. Here and there. I couldn’t hold back. I mean, my son is with amusician.Who plays theguitar. Andsings. Seriously, are you trying to give me a heart attack of joy here?” She lets out a laugh. “I … I had to play a little catch-up is all. Since I was … a bit …” She shrugs and glances off. “A bit in the dark.”
“I should’ve told you.” We’re clutching each other’s hands. “About him. Who he really is. I should’ve trusted you with that.”
“Oh, I don’t blame you for not. I’ve got a mouth. And opinions. Trust me, I know how I am. My mom was the same way, and both her sisters—yes, both your aunts, all of them nosy, all of them full ofopinions. If your grandfather were still here …” She shakes her head with a smile, for half a second looking like she’s holding back tears, only to at once recover with a tightened grin. “I’m proud of you, TJ. Alright? We all are. And we love you.”
I’m thinking of grandpa. The wristwatch I happen to still be wearing right now that he left me when he died. “I love you.”
“And I don’t care what his name is. Johnny-John from down the road who strums a banjo on the back of his pickup, or Pickle-Nickel scraping his way up and down a fiddle in his toolshed …”
“Where the heck are these names coming from?” I laugh.
“It doesn’t make a lick of difference to me. Chase Holt. Austin. Whatever the name.” She winks at me. “You picked a fine man. I am happy. And now, it’s time foryouto be.”
I feel the call to arms in her voice. “Alright.”
“Ready to get out of this closet? You weren’tactuallyhere for the marshmallows, right?”
I pull her into an awkward, on-the-pantry-floor hug, squeeze her tightly, and give her all the love and appreciation I’ve got. She squeezes me right back, matching my tightness exactly, and the whole world feels better at once.
Moms have a way of doing that sometimes.
I’m back in the pavilion only minutes later. The chaos is still happening, though it’s certainly taken a lot more shape in justthe past half hour alone. Lights are set up. Sound is hooked in. They’re sound checking the instruments once more to ensure everything is ready to broadcast.
Austin catches my eyes, and it’s like the whole world goes still for the first time all day for him. I don’t even know if he was in the middle of something, but the next minute, he hops off the stage, comes down the aisle, and meets me right where I stand with a big hug of his own.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” I ask into his shoulder.
“Never been more sure about anything in my life,” he answers back, still clutching me so perfectly tight.
“Everything could get so much worse,” I go on, unable to help myself, even after my pep talk with Mom. “The label could cut ties with you. Ian’s life could go radioactive. The Chase Holt we know and love could just … end tonight.”
He pulls away to look at my face. “If Chase Holt ends because I can’t be who I am and love who I want? Let him fuckin’ end.”
I swallow. “Did you just say … love?”