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After finishing my business and washing my hands, I hurried back toward my room, only to spot a woman wandering around as if lost. When our gazes caught, she smiled and stepped forward. “Hey there, darling. Do you think you could help me? I’m looking for Tucker Holt’s room.”
As soon as she said his name, I noticed the resemblance. Same eyes, same color of light hair, same dimples. She had to be his mom.
I smiled at her, feeling an instant affection, even though that made no sense. Tucker and I were by no means friends. Meeting his mom should have no effect on me whatsoever. But I said, “Sure,” and changed my course completely to lead her in the direction of where I knew his changing room was supposed to be. “He’s this way.”
No idea why I’d committed his room assignment to memory; I certainly didn’t know where anyone else in the competition was waiting for their turn.
Tucker might’ve gotten a little too close to the truth when he’d accused me of being obsessed with him. But I’d never let him know that.
“I just wanted to tell him how proud I am of him,” his mom told me as she pulled a coin from her pocket and showed it off. “And maybe let him borrow my lucky penny.”
I smiled warmly. “Aww, that’s so sweet. But I doubt he’ll even need it. He’s really talented.”
She flashed me a grin that was pure Tucker. “He is, isn’t he? I don’t know where he got it; I can’t carry a tune to save my soul. But Tucker…” She shook her head, smiling tenderly, her eyes twinkling with love. “He’s loved to sing since he was just a little tot.”
I nodded and pointed at her. “You know, they say kids who are raised happy and secure enough to feel comfortable singing at a young age can attribute it back to awesome parenting.”
Actually, I had no idea who said that because I’d never really heard the sentiment before, but I thought it sounded good and would make her smile. Which it totally did.
Her dimples flashed as she cupped my face and murmured, “Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing? Thank you, baby.”
Glowing a little under her praise, I nodded and motioned to the door I’d paused us in front of. “Here’s his room.”
Turning to blink at his name written on a sheet of paper that was taped to the door, she jumped before laughing at herself. “Oh! Wow. Thanks again, sweetheart.”
She turned back to me, studying my outfit before asking, “Are you singing tonight, too?”
Without speaking, I nodded.
She patted my arm. “Well, good luck to you. I’ll be looking forward to your performance.” Then she turned away and tapped on Tucker’s door, opening it when he called a greeting from inside.
I started to turn back for my own room, but his mom didn’t quite get the door shut behind her, leaving it cracked open.
It was totally wrong and intrusive, but I crept back to the crack and peeked in, unable to stop spying when I saw a portion of Tucker’s face when he spotted his mom. He lit up like a Christmas tree and opened his arms, calling her mama.
Oh, Lord. How could he make himself look even hotter by merely saying mama? It was no fair.
And so freaking adorable that my hormones melted into a puddle.
She hugged him and then pulled back to cradle his face in her hands just like she’d done to me moments ago.
“Yep,” she announced, looking him over. “You definitely look like a winner to me.”
He smiled big before his expression fell and sadness entered his gaze.
“I don’t know,” he said, pulling away from her to tug off his hat and run his hand through his pale hair. “There’s this girl. And she’s really good. I don’t think…” He sent his mom a rueful glance before admitting, “I don’t think I can beat her.”
My heart stalled in my chest as I wondered…was he talking about me?
It was one thing to have confidence in my own abilities and be satisfied enough with what I could do; but to hear Tucker praise me was a whole new sense of wonder. My skin buzzed with awareness, pleased more than I could admit that he recognized my talent.
“Pshaw,” his mom scolded softly. “What is this I’m hearing? You’re good enough for me, and that’s all that matters. I just love listening to you play and sing. Everyone else will too, whether you win or not.”
“I know,” he muttered moodily, turning away to pluck at a few stings on his guitar. “But…” His voice went low and muffled as he admitted, “We could really use that prize money.”
Three
Rory
