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There’s a knock on my door. “Ally?” Mom pokes her head into my bedroom. “Are you still alive in here?”
“Just finishing that same song.”
She clucks her tongue. “You’ve been working on that for a while.” She leans against the doorjamb. “Come on, sweetie. Put your guitar down. It’s your last night at home. You can write a song any time. But you can’t spend quality time with your mother on your last night home until Thanksgiving.”
She’s wrong. I can’t write a song like this any time. In fact, I’ve got a hunch this song is a once-in-a-lifetime sort of thing. But I’ve long since accepted my mother doesn’t fully understand my creative process. Plus, she’s right that I’m leaving tomorrow and not coming back until Thanksgiving. And I did spend last night with Georgie, so I should probably focus on her tonight.
“Okay, let’s have ourselves a ‘date’ night,” I say, and my mother cheers. “Just give me an hour to wrap up, and then I promise you’ll have my undivided attention for the rest of the night.”
Mom squeals and claps, making me laugh. “I’ll make dinner now! You want to help me design some wedding arrangements after dinner?”
“I’d love it!”
Mom’s a florist, and our favorite thing to do together has always been designing floral arrangements for Mom’s wedding clients. I love helping Mom pick just the right blooms and colors to tell each couple’s love story.
When Mom closes my door, I return to my guitar. But after only a few minutes of work, my phone buzzes with a notification. Apparently, I’ve got a direct message on Instagram from someone named “Channing_Tate-Yumm.” Which, of course, I recognize as a reference to one of my all-time favorite movies—the apocalyptic stoner comedy, This Is the End.
The message reads:
Hey, cutie! It’s Fish from my finsta. Just wanted to say hi and see if you’re feeling better today. If you want me to beat up Reed for ya, lemme know. He’s got muscles. But I’m quick like a bunny. A bunny called Fish. I bet I could take him.
I laugh out loud with glee. I never thought I’d hear from Fish again! Not after the way I melted down in front of him! Well, in front of him from behind a closed door. Not to mention, we didn’t even exchange numbers last night and I wasn’t sure how to go about reaching a rock star like him. Not that I’d have contacted him, anyway, even if I’d figured out how to do it. And, now, he’s found me? Breathing hard, I tap out my reply:
Me: Thanks so much for checking in. I’m good today. I wanted to say goodbye to you last night, but Georgina had to leave suddenly.
Fish: I saw you leave and totally understood. Sisters before misters! I just want you to know that, whatever Reed said to you, he was dead wrong. I listened to a song of yours on IG last night and it was amazing.
Shit. Fish listened to a song of mine before I’d thought to scrub my account? I’m mortified.
Me: Please don’t judge me by what you heard. That’s the same stuff Reed said wasn’t good enough. And he was right.
Fish: No, he wasn’t! Reed’s word isn’t gospel. Before he signed my band, he told me the best thing I could do was to bow out of 22 Goats and let Dax become a solo artist. Was he right about that?
Me: He did not say that!
Fish: He did. I didn’t tell Dax about it at the time. But I told Colin and he goes, “Prove him wrong!” So that’s what I did. And that’s what you’ll do, too, Little Lioness. Prove. Him. WRONG.
I feel electrified. Like everything I’ve been feeling all day, writing this new song, is dovetailing with what Fish is telling me. Like Fish, contacting me now, is a sign from the universe that I’m on the right track.
Me: Don’t worry about me. I know I seemed like a total wreck last night, but this morning I’ve been writing the best song, ever. I’m just putting the finishing touches on it now. From the ashes rises the phoenix, right?
Fish: YASSSS! Record the song and send it to me RIGHT NOWWWWW!
Me: Uh . . . no.
Fish: YES!
Me: No. I always play every new song for Georgina first, remember?
Fish: Rules are made to be broken!
Me: In concept, yes. But you intimidate the hell out of me! You’re the guy who wrote “Delightful Damage”!
Fish: All the more reason to send it to me. I already loved what I heard on your IG, didn’t I? So, I’ll love this, too!
Hmm. He’s got a point. And I admit I’d love to get his feedback on the song . . .
Me: I need a few days to polish it up, and then, MAYBE, I’ll gather the courage to send it to the genius who wrote one of my all-time favorite songs.
