Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Swayze
@craftywithkrissy: OMG SWAYZE YOU’RE DOING MUSICAL THEATER NOW????
@wanderlustwendy: I literally screamed when I saw this. BUYING A TICKET RN
@theplantparent: Wait I need context??? When did you start performing???
@craftywithkrissy: @theplantparent she did theater in school! There’s like ONE photo on her grid from years ago
@sarahsews: I don’t even like musicals but I’m 100% watching this for you
@globaltrekker_mike: The fact that you’re streaming it so we can all watch from anywhere in the world. QUEEN BEHAVIOR.
@happyhomebody: My sister lives in Tennessee and I’m in Oregon, we’re having a watch party!!!
@ethicaleats: Ummmm can we talk about how this is raising money for a LIbrARY? On brand forever.
@craftywithkrissy: Also that firefighter who saved you better be your love interest in this thing or I RIOT
@wanderlustwendy: @craftywithkrissy GO LOOK AT HER STORIES HE IS
@sarahsews: THE CHEMISTRY IN THAT REHEARSAL CLIP
“Costumes are already at the theater, right?” I checked my phone for the third time in as many minutes, scanning the mental checklist that had been running on repeat all morning.
“Already there.” Colter leaned against my kitchen counter, arms crossed. “Miss Bea confirmed everything’s set up in the dressing rooms.”
“Props?”
“At the theater.”
“Sound equipment for the stream?”
“Blair had the tech guys there at dawn.”
I set my phone down, then immediately picked it back up. “What about—”
“Swayze.” His voice held that gentle firmness I’d come to recognize. “We’ve got everything. It’s all handled.”
My hands wouldn’t stop moving, fussing with the zipper on my bag, adjusting the strap. “I know. I know we do. It’s just—”
The weight of it crashed over me again. Hundreds of people would be in the theater tonight, but thousands more would be watching online. People from New Zealand, from London, from places I’d posted about over the years. They’d paid for tickets, trusted that this would be worth their time and money.
“What if the stream goes down?” The words tumbled out. “What if there’s a technical glitch and we have to issue refunds? What if—”
Colter pushed off the counter and crossed to me in three strides. His hands settled on my shoulders, warm and steady. “Hey. Look at me.”
I did and found his blue eyes calm despite the flicker of something I couldn’t quite name in their depths.
“You’ve checked everything twice. Blair’s checked it three times. Steve basically moved into the theater yesterday to make sure every angle was covered.” His thumbs rubbed small circles against my shoulders. “And if something goes wrong anyway? We’ll handle it. That’s what we do.”
“But all those people—”
“Will understand that technology isn’t perfect.” He ducked his head to catch my gaze when I tried to look away. “They bought tickets because they believe in what you’re doing here. Because they’ve watched you champion this town and this cause. One technical hiccup isn’t going to change that.”
The knot in my chest loosened slightly. “When did you get so wise about social media audiences?”
“I’ve been paying attention.” A smile ghosted across his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
There it was again. That sense that something was off, like a radio station not quite tuned to the right frequency. He’d been like this since I’d told him about the Peyton offer, supportive but distant in a way I couldn’t pinpoint.
“Are you nervous?” I asked. “About performing?”
“A little.” He dropped his hands and moved back to the counter, creating space between us. “Mostly I’m nervous about remembering all the words.”
“You’ll be fine. You’ve been great in rehearsals.”
“Sure.” He glanced at his watch. “We should probably head out soon. Uncle Dee wanted everyone there early for warm-ups.”
I studied him, trying to puzzle out what was happening behind those shuttered eyes. “Colter, are you okay? You seem—”
“I’m good.” The answer came too fast, too practiced. “Just pre-show jitters. Like you said.”
But it wasn’t like what I’d said. My anxiety was sharp and specific, centered on technology and audiences and the fear of disappointing people who’d put their faith in me. His felt deeper, more fundamental.
Like he was bracing for something I couldn’t see.
“You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”
He met my eyes then, and for a moment I saw something raw there. Pain or fear or both. Then he smiled, and it was gone.
“Everything’s fine.” He reached for his keys. “Come on. Let’s go put on a show.”
The knock on the door startled us both. I wasn’t expecting anyone, and from Colter’s confused expression, neither was he.
“You order something?” He headed toward the door.
“Not that I recall, but considering I’ve been getting regular deliveries from for the past few months, I now know the entire rotation of delivery drivers by name.”
Colter opened the door and went completely still.
“Surprise!” My mother’s voice rang out, bright and familiar, and suddenly the entryway filled with people.
“Mom?” I pushed past Colter, shock freezing my brain for half a second before it caught up. “What are you—Paisley? JP?”
Ty grinned from behind his wife, already hauling a suitcase. “Didn’t think we’d miss your big debut, did you?”
I’d talked to Mom two days ago. She’d said they couldn’t make it, that Paisley had a deadline and Mom had some volunteer thing she couldn’t reschedule. “You said you weren’t coming!”
“We lied.” Paisley squeezed past Mom to throw her arms around me. “Obviously.”
Mom cupped my face, her eyes bright. “I was never going to let you do this without us here. Not after everything.”
My throat went tight. I’d told myself I was fine with them not coming, that I understood. But having them here, all of them, made me realize how much I’d wanted this. Needed it, even.
“Mrs. Parish.” Colter had recovered his manners, stepping forward with his hand extended. “It’s good to see you again.”
“Colter.” Mom took his hand warmly. “I hope this isn’t too much of an intrusion.”
“Not at all.” His smile looked natural, easy. Nothing like the tension I’d sensed moments ago. “You’re always welcome.”
Paisley hugged him next, then Ty shook his hand. JP hung back by the door, watching Colter with that too-sharp gaze he got when he was analyzing something.
“Where are you guys staying?” I looked at the pile of luggage accumulating in my small entryway.
“Actually, we were hoping—” Mom started.
“We figured air mattresses.” JP finally moved inside, shutting the door behind him. “If that’s still okay.”
“Of course it is.” I gestured helplessly at the small space. “It’s going to be tight, but we’ll make it work.”
“I can take the couch,” Ty offered. “Won’t be the first time.”
“No, I’ll—” I started, but Colter interrupted.
“I’ve got to go grab something from my place.” He was already backing toward the door, keys in hand. “I’ll let you get everybody settled in.” His eyes found mine. “Do you still want to ride with me, or do you want to bring your own car?”
“No, I’ll ride with you.” Something twisted in my chest at the question, at the careful way he asked it. Like he expected me to change my mind. “Just give me a few minutes.”
“Sure. No rush.” He nodded to my family. “Good to see you all. I’m sure Swayze will have you settled in no time.”
Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him with careful precision.
“Okay, where do you want us?” Ty grabbed the largest suitcase. “Point me in the right direction, and I’ll start hauling.”
Paisley and Mom were already discussing sleeping arrangements, debating who should get the couch versus an air mattress, and I started to turn toward them when JP’s hand closed around my wrist.
“Upstairs.” His voice dropped low. “Now.”
“What—?”
“Now, Swayze.”
I let him tug me toward the stairs, glancing back to see if anyone noticed. But Mom and Paisley were deep in logistics, and Ty had disappeared outside, presumably to get the rest of the luggage.
JP didn’t stop until we were in my room with the door closed.
“What did you do to your firefighter?”
I stared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Colter.” JP crossed his arms. “What’s going on with him?”
“Nothing’s going on. He’s been great, he’s just—”
“When are you leaving?”
The question hit like a slap. “Again, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, baby cakes. I know you’ve been considering the job. The Peyton offer.” He tilted his head, studying me with that infuriating older brother omniscience. “And dollars to donuts, in his mind, you’ve already decided. That you’re going.”
“No.” But even as I said it, pieces started shifting in my head. The careful distance. The way he’d asked about the car, like he expected me to need my own transportation. “He’s been absolutely supportive. He’s just giving me space so I’m not pressured one way or the other.”
“That’s not support, honey.” JP’s voice gentled. “That’s giving up.”
“You don’t—” I stopped. Replayed the last week through this new lens.
The way Colter had pulled back after I’d told him about the offer.
How he’d stopped initiating conversations about the future, stopped making plans beyond the show.
The look in his eyes this morning, like he was memorizing something he expected to lose.
“Oh, God.” I sank onto the edge of my bed. “You think he believes I’m leaving?”
“I think he’s convinced himself you’re leaving.” JP sat beside me. “And he’s trying to make it easier on both of you by not making you feel guilty about it.”
“But I haven’t decided anything.” My hands twisted in my lap. “I told him I needed time to think.”
“What did he say when you told him about the offer?”
I tried to remember. “That it was a great opportunity. That it made sense for me to take time to consider it.”
“And?”
“And...” I frowned. “That’s it. He kissed me and said we should go to bed.”
“Did he ask you what you wanted?”
“No, but—”
“Did he tell you what he wanted?”
The question landed heavy in my chest. “We’ve already said we love each other. He knows—”
“Does he?” JP’s eyebrow arched. “Because from where I’m standing, he looked like a man watching his last hours tick down. Not a man fighting for what he wants.”
“What if he doesn’t want to fight?” The words came out smaller than I intended. “Maybe he doesn’t want me to stay. Maybe this is easier for him too.”
“Swayze.” JP waited until I looked at him. “That man is in love with you. Anyone with eyes can see it. But I think he’s also convinced that letting you go is the right thing to do.”
I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Right now?” JP squeezed my shoulder. “Nothing. You get through tonight. You put on an incredible show. Then you figure out the rest.”
“I can’t believe you’re bringing this up hours before curtain.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound particularly sorry. “But it seemed important.”
“Important.” I dropped my hands and stared at him. “You just upended my entire understanding of what’s happening in my relationship, and you think ‘important’ covers it?”
“Would you rather I waited until after you’d left town to mention that you might’ve missed something crucial?”
The words hit like ice water. Because that was the pattern, wasn’t it? I’d always been so good at leaving. At moving on to the next thing before the current thing got too complicated or too real.
“No.” I stood, smoothing my hands over my jeans, even though they didn’t need smoothing. “No, you’re right. I just—I can’t think about this now.”
“You don’t have to.” JP rose beside me. “But you do have to get through tonight first. So file it away, put on your Donna face, and we’ll deal with the rest tomorrow.”
“Swayze!” Paisley’s voice carried up the stairs. “Colter’s back!”
My heart lurched. I wanted to run down there and demand answers. Ask him what was going on in his head, what he wanted, if JP was right about any of this. But that wasn’t fair to him, to the cast, to everyone counting on us tonight.
“Coming!” I called back, then turned to JP. “How do I—what do I say to him?”
“Nothing. Not yet.” He opened the bedroom door. “You say ‘let’s go put on a show’ and you deal with the rest when the curtain comes down.”
Colter stood at the bottom of the stairs, keys in hand. His eyes found mine as I descended, and I searched his face for what JP had seen. That look of a man watching his last hours tick down.
There. In the set of his shoulders. The careful way he smiled.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
Everything in me wanted to say no. To pull him aside and have this conversation right now, before another minute passed with this awful distance between us.
Instead, I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
“Hey baby sis.”
I turned back to my brother.
“Break a leg.”
JP’s meaningful look burned into my back as I grabbed my bag.
After the show. I could hold it together until then.
I had to.