“A little piece of home. Maybe you’ll pick up a few tips,” Mom says.
I appreciate her calling Minneapolis my home, even if I don’t see myself going back anytime soon.
“Let me know if you find something to book,” I say with a toothy grin before heading out to the pool where Grandma Juni is swimming laps.
When she notices me, she stops and pulls off her swim cap. Then she rests her arms on the pool deck. It’s hard to believe she has cancer spreading through her body.
“Good morning.” She gives me her brightest smile.
“Hey.” I sit on the end of the padded lounger and hug my knees.
“It’s a beautiful day. What are you going to do to make the most of it?” She’s said those exact words to me too many times to remember.
“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”
She laughs, attempting to lift herself out of the pool, something she’s always done with ease. When her elbows buckle, she frowns and wades to the stairs. I act like I didn’t notice, averting my gaze until she wraps up in a towel and sits on the lounger beside mine.
“Your mom said there’s a young man in your life.”
I shake my head. “Was.”
“What’s his name?”
“Flynn.”
“What happened?” She pulls her hair over her shoulder and wrings out the water.
“He had a difficult childhood, and it’s jaded him.”
“Invite him to LA. It’s pretty amazing what a week in the sun can do.”
I roll my eyes. “No. Inviting him here is a terrible idea. He has an aversion to …” I wave my hand around. “This.”
“What’s this?”
“Excess.”
She eyes me. “Excess?”
“Mansions and pools. Personal chefs. Designer clothes. And I love that about him, even if the root cause is sad. But he can’t separate me from the life that was chosen for me.”
“Then he’s not the one, my dear. If he has a chip on his shoulder now, he’ll always have one. It’s not your job to make him like you. Don’t make yourself small for anyone.” She squeezes my hand. “Not ever. Understood?”
“Is that what you think I did by moving to Minnesota? You think I made myself small?”
She spreads her towel out and reclines on the lounger. I doubt she’s wearing sunscreen. “I think you ran away. And that’s okay. I’ve done it. Your mom did it. There’s nothing wrong with taking a break. A reset. But we don’t just become other people. You can downsize your life, but it doesn’t change who you are.”
I turn to sit on the side of the lounger, squinting against the sun. “Who am I?”
“If you don’t know that by now, then your time in Minnesota was all for nothing. And don’t lie to yourself.” She closes her eyes. “You didn’t leave the stage because you fell out of love with the music. That kind of talent and passion are inextricably woven into your soul. It’s like running away from your shadow. You can’t do it. It’s always there unless you live in darkness. And you and your Mom can bellyache all you want, but you’vebeen relentlessly practicing foryou, not for me. You’d give the same flawless performance on stage with no practice. Music will always be your first love. You won’t trulylivewithout it. And I don’t want to die until I know you’re not just existing, but truly living. So think of me and this experience I’m having as your muse.”
“My muse?”
“Yes, a muse is?—”
“I know what a muse is,” I say. “I’m going inside. Do you need anything?”
“I’m good.”
