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She’s welcomed with open arms by the nurses who work there, and they take her around to show her the place while I fill out all of the necessary paperwork.
It’s funny how things all happen for a reason.
I’ll never get over the fact that I wasn’t here to spot what was going on with her sooner, but I have to keep reminding myself that if I hadn’t left for Nashville, this still would have happened, and only because I left for Nashville do I actually have the money to pay for it. If I don’t leave now, I could lose the record deal, and I wouldn’t be able to pay for her care.
The cost alone is a few thousand dollars a month, but I don’t care. I have the money, and there’s no better person for it to go to than my mom.
When I’m done, I head to her room, where I let her show me around. I take the time to set up her smart TV, so she can play YouTube and listen to music, like she always does.
“Is your room down the hall?” she asks, thinking this is a hotel and we’re on vacation.
“No, Mom,” I say. “I have to head back to Nashville. You’re going to stay here, so they can take care of you.”
She shrugs. “Okay, but I’ll need a pricing gun if I have to set up their shelves. You should look at it. It’s a disaster. Whoever organized it did not know what they were doing.”
I look to Susie, and she just closes her eyes in defeat.
Just then, Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” starts to play on the TV they have set up that’s tuned to a music channel. I don’t know what to say to her or how to say good-bye, so I just wrap my arms around her, and we dance to one of her favorite songs as we sing together, “And I say, ‘Yes, you look wonderful tonight.’”
The song is both healing me and killing me inside.
As I leave, I have to fight back tears the entire time.I know what I’m doing is right, but why is it so hard?
CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE
Hannah
I have a few missed calls from Matthew, but I can only deal with one thing at a time. These last few days with him have been amazing, but I can’t do this to him—again.
I take my time and drive to his house. The record label sent out tickets about an hour ago, and we leave at six in the morning. When I notice it’s almost eight at night, I know I’ve pushed this off for long enough.
He sees my car pull up from his kitchen window and heads outside to greet me. “Hey there. How was your day?”
I lose it and break down, crying in his arms. He holds me and lets me get my emotions out without saying a word.
Once I can breathe enough to get full sentences out, I say, “It’s all just too much to deal with, and I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to handle all that is being thrown at me at once.”
He holds me tighter. “You’re the strongest person I know. No one else has left Mason Creek to follow their dreams the way you did. You’re much stronger than you know.”
I hold him tighter, not wanting to let him go, but knowing I have to.
“I have to leave,” I say barely above a whisper, like if he doesn’t hear it, it won’t come true.
He sighs and rubs his hand down my hair. “I figured you’d have to head back sooner or later. Is the record label saying you have to go back?”
I nod. “We have to do a radio tour. The song is doing well.”
He quickly pushes me back to look at me. “That’s amazing! Why the long face?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “We put my mom in the place I told you about that I liked the most.”
He lowers his eyes to meet mine again. “That’s a good thing. That place seemed like the perfect fit.”
I nod as I bite my lip. “It’s just a lot to deal with.”
“Stop stressing. This is a good thing. She’ll be taken care of until you come back.”
And there are those words—come back.
