“Look at this!” She wrenched a black shirt from the metal rack and held it out for us to inspect. The message “Hope is Defiant”was printed across the front.
A square on the side held the logo “To Write Love on Her Arms.”
“I’ve heard of them,” I said, checking the label to see what size it was. “They’re a nonprofit that connects people with resources to help with things like addiction and depression. I’ve read some pieces on their blog before. Their platform is all about finding hope.”
“And so is yours,” my mom said, pointing the hanger in Luca’s direction. “I’m getting it for you.”
He laughed. “You don’t have to do that. I can get it.”
“Nonsense,” she declared in a way that let him know this wasn’t up for debate. “I’m getting it because I want it to serve as a reminder of how much I believe in you.”
He gave her a soft smile. “Thank you.”
“You just get on that stage next Friday and sing your ass off,” she said. “That’s all the thanks I need.”
His gaze fell slightly as my mother turned her focus back to the shirts lining the wall, and I knew he was still feeling insecure about the show. But I hoped once he got up there it would feel like riding a bike. That he’d remember all the reasons he’d loved performing to begin with.
“It’s going to be amazing,” I whispered, looping my arm around his waist.
I was so proud of him for all he’d accomplished, and I’d put together a surprise to show him just how much. With Jo’s help, I’d managed to secure the attendance of a couple of important people from Luca’s past. He’d been so busy with the album and rehearsals, he hadn’t even noticed the extra time I’d spent on my phone concocting my plan, making sure everything was set.
This was going to be a big moment for him, and I wanted the place to be packed with people who believed in him, both past and present.
TWENTY-FOUR
Luca
Hi Luca,
Hope you’re doing well! I wanted to touch base because I noticed you rescheduled your past two sessions. I know things were going better the last time we spoke, but I want to make sure we check in soon. Even if we need to decrease it to once or twice a month, I think it’s a good idea we keep going for a while to keep you on the right path. When can we get you on the books next?
Lacey
It was the following Friday evening, and I was getting ready for my show at The Bluebird. I’d already showered and started to get dressed, pausing to check my email for any last-minute details from Cash or Grace to find a message from Lacey.
I hadn’t intended to miss those sessions, but life kept getting in the way. Between preparing the album for release, getting ready for the show, and spending as much time with McKenzie as I possibly could, making space for those appointments just wasn’t a priority. I’d get back to them as soon as I could, as soon as things slowed down. Besides, Iwasfeeling better. For the first time since I could remember, I felt truly happy. Sure, healing was a journey, but it felt like I’d arrived at my destination.
My phone pinged from my back pocket with a text, and I reached for it, smiling when I saw McKenzie’s name.
Okay don’t freak out, but I got here to pick up my mom and she definitely made a T-shirt to wear to the show tonight. I can spill something on it and make her change if you want me to. Just say the word.
Attached was a photo of Laurel with a big smile on her face and the words “Luca Sterling’s #1 Fan” emblazoned across her shirt.
I laughed and shook my head before tapping out my response.
Don’t you dare. It’s perfect.
Bubbles popped up to let me know she was typing.
We’ll see you soon. ♥?
I pulled on the shirt Mama Laurel bought me at the thrift store and shrugged on my leather jacket, pushing my hands through my hair until it looked decent enough. With my guitar case in hand, I was out the door. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in a haphazard rhythm the whole way to The Bluebird, my nerves taking up so much space in my brain they were practically passengers in the car.
As I drove by the lot to get to the rear of the building, I was stunned to find a line of people outside the door in the cold just waiting to get in. Grace had told me it was a sold-out crowd, though most shows there were. But the venue said it had happened in less than ten seconds and that hundreds of people had called, trying to get on a wait list.
McKenzie had texted to let me know she and her mom were already waiting with Grace and the rest of my friends who were able to make it. I’d received good luck calls from Cash, Ella, and Antoni earlier in the day, and I knew Grace would be filming it for them. All that was left to do was head inside.
“Hi, Mr. Sterling, I’m Lena,” a petite blonde woman welcomed me through the back entrance, my guitar in tow. “I’m the stage manager here at The Bluebird, and I’ll be helping you out this evening.”
