“That was a helluva blog you wrote.”
“Oh,” Brinton said, failing to temper the surprise in her voice. “Thank you.”
“I’ll cut straight to the chase. I’m calling for a favor. Not for me, but for Jamie. My son didn’t deserve what I put him through, and frankly, neither did you. I’m truly sorry for getting you involved.”
“I appreciate that,” she said.
Jamie Sr. was silent, as if searching for the words. “And he’ll never admit it because, like his daddy, he’s as stubborn as a mule, but he’s still torn up over you. That makes for incredible music. But it also makes for a miserable person—I would know. You should see this horrible beard he’s grown.”
He laughed softly. It was the first time Brinton had heard it, and it was strangely soothing.
“Listen, I know Sammi told you about his show tonight. He’s pretty nervous about it, but I thought if you could talk to him…”
Brinton waited a few seconds to think, then answered. She’d vowed never to set foot in Iris again. The wound was still too fresh to probe, so she had to protect herself.
Didn’t she?
“I’m sure he’s going to do great,” she said.
“I…think he needs you there. He needs you in his life. The show’s at eight. It’s a two-and-a-half-hour flight from New York, but you could still make it, if you leave now.”
He needed her in his life? At what point would he have told her that? Then she remembered all his calls that she’d declined and winced. Still, this was all too much, too sudden. Brinton was starting to feel better, feet firmly rooted in herself. The last thing she needed was her world, once again, upended by this earthquake of a man.
Gael silently thrust his fists in the air while Shay and Athena clasped their hands together, hopeful. The premisewas absolutely insane, even though Brinton knew, deep down, she wanted to see Jamie one last time. For closure.
Was she crazy? Or was this her chance to bet on herself, like Troy Bolton, and be happy? It didn’t matter because there was no way she could pull this off.
“It’s already three. I think that’s cutting it close,” she said. “Besides, I have plans with my family tonight, so?—”
“Go!” Gael, Shay, and Athena shouted emphatically. It was heartwarming, if not for the whole betrayal of it all.
Brinton chewed the fleshy inside of her cheek. “Well, I can’t afford a same-day flight. As you know from my blog, I’m unemployed. I’m sorry, Jamie, but unless you can pull off a miracle?—”
He didn’t let her finish. “Why do you think I’m calling?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
As sherbet sunlight melted into the horizon, Jamie slung a 1957 Gibson acoustic with sunburst paint, a twelfth birthday gift from his mother, over his shoulder. He peered through his bedroom window and down at the front yard.
Once again, Sammi and Tex had outdone themselves. Dozens of friends and family had gathered on rows of logs near the bonfire and small stage. There were enough steel coolers, packed with ice-cold beer, for a University of Tennessee tailgate.
It was perfect, save for one thing missing. One person.
“You ready?” Sammi asked from the doorway. She twirled in her cork heels, which made her orange sundress float around her knees. “We’ve already got two hundred thousand people in queue to access the livestream, and we’re expecting that to double in the next ten minutes. The on-site producer reckons your fans are gonna break the server.”
Jamie always had pre-show jitters, but this felt like something different. He was re-launching his career. The new beginning he’d craved—a fresh, clean start.The air was thick with pressure, especially sharing this EP as an independent artist.
It felt better than he could have ever imagined.
Jamie ran a hand over his now–neatly trimmed beard and smiled. “And that’s a good thing?”
“That’s a great thing,” she said. She playfully pinched his cheek. “You ready to make history?”
“If the creek don’t rise,” he said.
Minutes later, Jamie peeled through the opening chords of “Guiding Light.”
It felt as natural as breathing.
