Chapter 26 Grady
grady
. . .
Growing up, I always heard people talking about how fast life could change.
How, in the blink of an eye, you could go from living on top of the world to feeling like the dirt beneath someone’s boot.
I never believed them until I was standing out in the pouring rain, watching the woman I loved walk away from me.
I thought I had learned my lesson, but life had other plans.
“You would think they’d have more comfortable seating arrangements in there since, ya know, they’re telling people they have cancer,” I muttered, settling into the driver’s seat of Mom’s tiny car. “For fuck’s sake, it’s the least they could do.”
Mom giggled but smacked my arm with the stack of pamphlets the doctor had given her when we walked out. “Young man, you may be an adult now, but that does not mean I want you saying the word fuck so freely,” she scolded half-heartedly.
“You swear like a sailor,” I said, pulling out of the parking lot and hitting the road back to Ashwood.
“Yeah, but I have fucking cancer now. What’s your excuse?” she joked, although it fell flat. The car was filled with uncomfortable silence as I came to a stop at a red light. We hadn’t put on music, but my fingers tapped along the steering wheel to a tense beat only I could hear.
When Dad called a few weeks ago to tell me Mom was having health problems, I thought it was some kind of joke. I hadn’t taken it seriously, thinking it was just their way of telling me she was having a root canal or some shit, but then he hadn’t laughed.
There wasn’t a trace of humor in his voice as he told me about the lump they’d found in her right breast, or the way the biopsy had come back with detection of cancerous cells. She now had a meeting with oncologists and surgeons to develop a plan for her future.
He told me I needed to come home, and so I did.
I didn’t stay in Austin long after Cleo and I broke up.
It was too hard, and without her, I had no reason to stay.
I’d only come to the city because it was supposed to be the best of both worlds for us.
While the music scene in Austin was growing rapidly, the one in Nashville was even more impressive.
Meeting Liv that night had changed my life in more ways than one.
When my life felt like it was coming to an end without Cleo, Liv had given me a purpose.
Hope. She wasted no time setting up a meeting between her uncle, John, and I in the weeks after our run-in.
Before I knew it, I was flying up to Nashville, standing in a flashy skyscraper, and shaking hands with one of the men who helped shape the music industry as we knew it.
Now, I had a band, and we were travelling around the country, opening for artists I’d only dreamed of.
John signed me with one of their sister labels and told me I needed to give him a reason to sign me to Hartstrings within five years.
The guys and I were well on the way to doing that.
Our recent album was selling significant numbers, and we had a meeting next month, hopefully to bring us up to the big leagues.
But now, I wasn’t so sure what my future would look like. Mom was going to need help with all the doctor’s appointments and radiation treatments. She was going to get worse before she got better. It wasn’t fair for Dad to handle on his own.
Luckily, the band and I didn’t have any appearances scheduled until our tour kicked off next month, so I was relatively free to figure my shit out from the discomfort of my childhood bedroom.
“Grady, I—”
“My mom has fucking cancer. That’s my excuse,” I said, forcing a smile for her benefit.
The one she returned was small enough, but I’d take it.
There was enough on her plate. She didn’t need me to break down or show every single fear I had.
I needed to be strong for her like she’d always been strong for me.
Mom settled back into her seat. “I guess that makes sense then. I’ll allow it.”
By the time we made it back to Ashwood, Mom was asleep. I quietly put the car into park and looked over at her peaceful features. At a glance, it was easy to forget she was sick. There was no pain, no worry, no stressful talk of radiation or surgery or cancer.
But then my gaze drifted to the papers clutched in her fist, which had the six ugly letters printed across the top of almost everyone, and the realization kicked back in.
My mother had fucking cancer.
Up ahead, I saw Dad standing on the front porch.
He was leaning against the railing, staring at the car.
He looked exhausted. The past few weeks had drained a lot out of him, and now it was catching up.
His work had been lenient, letting him take as much time off as he needed, but he wasn’t sleeping.
I’d only been here a week and almost every night he’d taken to sitting in the recliner in their bedroom or staring out the kitchen window into the dark, empty night.
I got out of the car, nodding his way as he came down the steps. “Thanks for taking her today,” he said, clapping my back. “Couldn’t miss this meeting at work.”
“It’s no problem, Dad. I was happy to do it.”
“She asleep?”
“Yeah, she passed out pretty early on.”
He shifted on his feet. “That’s good. She doesn’t seem to get much these days.”
“You don’t either,” I said, nudging him with my elbow. “Don’t think I don’t notice.”
“I’m not worried about myself,” he grumbled. “Just wanna make sure she doesn’t wake up and need me.”
I sighed. “You need to take care of yourself just as much as she does,” I said, following him around the car to Mom’s side.
He gently pried open the door and undid her seatbelt before hoisting her into his arms. She stirred slightly, but he quietly murmured reassurances before walking her into the house.
I walked into the kitchen as Dad helped Mom settle into bed.
Might as well get a drink because I didn’t have anything else to do.
Opening the fridge, I saw two choices. Sweet tea that looked like it was ready to be thrown out, or an array of Coors bottles.
Opting for the harder of the two, I grabbed a beer and twisted the cap off.
Being back in Ashwood made me restless. I was haunted by the past, assaulted by memories.
Even in my own home, I couldn’t escape Cleo’s suffocating presence.
The kitchen? We had a brownie batter fight with my mom the night after our last high school football game.
The living room? It was the first time she’d ever heard me play.
My bedroom? God, that one almost hurt the worst. I still remember the sounds she made when we messed around for the first time when Mom and Dad had gone out to pick us up lunch.
I was halfway through my beer when Dad came in.
He looked down at the bottle with raised brows before letting out a breath and grabbing his own.
“You hungry?” I asked. There wasn’t much in the fridge, so I’d definitely have to pick up some groceries tomorrow to avoid starving, but I’m pretty sure there were some Hot Pockets in the freezer or something.
“Naw,” Dad said. “Don’t have much of an appetite right now. I’ll make your mom some soup later. It’s about all she’ll eat right now. I think the nerves are keeping her stomach tangled in knots.”
I knew the feeling well. “Let me know if you change your mind. I can pick us something up.”
Dad stared at me as I finished off the bottle, immediately tossing it in the trash before I reached for another. “Why don’t you go out tonight?” he asked, snatching it from my grasp.
“What? Go out where?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The Lonestar? Heard there’s some live music. Might be fun.”
I chuckled. “Spending the night alone at my hometown bar, listening to music doesn’t really sound like a great time, Dad.”
“There’s a rodeo tonight. Could be fun, ya know?”
I stared at him. “A rodeo? How in the world would that be fun?”
“I don’t know, Grady. Just thought you might wanna get out of the house for a bit.”
“I’d rather go sit alone at the bar,” I muttered.
“What if I want to go?” Mom asked from the doorway. She padded over and snatched the unopened beer from Dad’s grip. We both watched as she twisted the cap and took a sip. Mom had never been much of a drinker, so to say it was more than a little out of character was putting it mildly.
“Marsha! You can’t have that,” Dad chided.
She rolled her eyes. “I can do what I want. I don’t start treatment until next week, and I don’t want to spend this last weekend moping around the house with you two. So either we’ll go to this thing together, or I’ll go by myself.”
“Like hell you will,” Dad mumbled.
Mom looked at me, brows raised in question as she brought the bottle to her lips. “Well? There’s one in. Care to make it two?”
“Mom, you slept all the way home from your appointment.”
“Exactly! I’ve had plenty of rest. I’m ready to go. Come on, Grady.” She set the bottle down next to me and took my hands in her own, tugging on them slightly. “Let’s have some fun tonight. Who knows how many nights like this we’ll have?”
“Jesus, Marsha,” Dad cursed.
Mom waved him off. “I don’t care if it gets him to say yes.”
She looked up at me with big, wide eyes. I was crumbling and fast. It didn’t matter how much I definitely didn’t want to go to an Ashwood rodeo; I’d have walked through flames for her if she asked me to in that moment.
Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. I could stay put in the stands, I didn’t have to venture out and mingle with people. It’d be fine. Everything would be fine.
“Fine, but just because you pulled the cancer card,” I said, lips twitching into a smile.
Mom flung her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. “This is why you’re my favorite kid,” she said before grabbing the beer and heading back to their bedroom.
“I’m your only kid!” I called back, listening to the sound of her laughter as a response.
Dad finished his drink and chucked the bottle in the trash. “That woman’s gonna be the death of me,” he muttered.
“At least you won’t be bored.”
He paused, tilting his head to the side. “Ya damn right about that.”