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Garrett
Ipull off my work gloves and take a seat beside my mother—who has been out here, serving food and passing out cold water all evening—and Weston.
“Ugh, I don’t think I’ll be able to move tomorrow,” I groan.
Mom pats my knee. “A little physical work is good for the soul.”
“And that beer gut you’re sporting,” Weston adds.
I throw a glove at his head. “I don’t have a gut.”
“You will soon if you don’t start participating in life again, loser,” he teases.
“Stop teasing your brother,” Mom scolds.
Weston sticks his tongue out at me, and she smacks his arm.
“What are you guys getting into tonight?” she asks.
“I’m going home to crash. I have to be at the farm early in the morning,” Weston answers as he stands. “As a matter of fact, I’m going to head out now. You coming with me?” he asks.
“Nah. Graham and Taeli invited me to go hiking, but I’m pretty sure we’re too wiped to do much, so he said he was going to call Taeli and change plans to dinner and a movie at their house. I’ll catch a ride with him.”
“All right, I’ll see you both tomorrow,” he says before bending down to kiss Mom’s cheek and heading to his truck.
Mom gives me a knowing smile. “I overheard Taeli and Erin at the office this morning. Ansley is joining you guys, isn’t she?”
“That’s what I heard. I’m surprised. Things didn’t end so well the last time I saw her,” I confess.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“Who says I did anything? Maybe it was her.”
Mom raises an eyebrow.
“I’m an idiot,” I admit.
“You sure are.”
Ouch.
“An idiot who inspires me every day,” she says.
“I inspire you?” I ask in disbelief.
“You chased your dream, and you caught it. Your father and I are so proud of your talent and success. Now, your recent behavior, not so much, but I’ve seen a change in you the past couple of weeks,” she praises.
“It’s this place. I think I just needed a good dose of home,” I admit.
“What has been your greatest takeaway, being back here in Balsam Ridge?” she asks.
“I wrote a couple of new songs that I can’t wait to refine and record,” I tell her.
“Oh, that’s exciting. It’s been a while since you wrote your own songs.”
“I reckon I was inspired,” I reveal.
“Ansley,” she guesses.
“She’s always been my muse. But I don’t think she cares to be.”
“You know what’s funny about a heart?” Mom asks.
“What’s that?”
“It can be broken overnight, but it can’t be mended overnight.”
“Can a broken heart ever be unbroken?” I ask.
She nods slowly. “Sure it can. If you’re willing to put in the work, but it won’t be easy, nor should it be. She deserves the extra effort. Don’t you think?”
“She’s worth everything. I wonder where we’d be if I’d never left.”
Mom scoffs. “You were born with music in your blood. When I sang lullabies to you as I rocked you to sleep, you’d look at me like you could feel every word. You’d tap your little foot and hum the melody as a baby. I knew from the time you could babble that you’d be a musician. If you had not pursued it, you would have been miserable. That talent is God-given.”
“I’m not exactly happy now, Mom.”
“Because you’re living half a life, son. Family and love are just as much a part of you as music. It doesn’t have to be one or the other, you know.”
I take in her words. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other.” Not if I stand my ground and set boundaries in my career. It’s time I start taking control of my life and stop letting my handlers move me around like a chess piece.
“Yeah, I guess I need to make some changes. It’s gonna upset a lot of people.”
“You’re Garrett Tuttle. If they don’t like it, do you know how many labels would be chomping at the bit to sign you?”
I stand, and so does she. I wrap her in a tight hug.
“Thank you, Mom,” I whisper in her ear.
“You’re a good man, Garrett,” she assures me.
I step away from her and look to the sky. Her eyes follow mine.
