Chapter 29
STEVIE
Half an hour later, dressed in jeans she’d left at Clay’s one night, a faded T-shirt of Clay’s from his rodeo days that she’d tied in a knot at her navel and her godawful white cowgirl-Barbie fringed boots from the shoot, Stevie walked into the cabin she and her mom had been allocated – one closer to the main ranch house this time.
Clay was by her side.
Her mom, standing in the kitchen, reading a bunch of papers spread on the benchtop, glanced up over the top of her reading glasses at their entry.
She didn’t say anything for a beat but her gaze didn’t miss a thing, roving over their joined hands and the rodeo T-shirt and her daughter’s dishevelled bed hair that had been half wet from their shenanigans and not dried.
Hell, not even brushed.
Stevie epitomised the saying rode hard and put away wet, and her mom was definitely adding two and two and getting four.
‘Clay,’ she said, a little stiffly, as she removed her glasses.
He nodded. ‘Mrs Everhart.’
‘We need to talk, Mom,’ Stevie said, her voice suddenly husky.
Her mother looked from Stevie to Clay then back to Stevie. ‘Okay.’ She tipped her chin at the couches. ‘Shall we sit?’
They all moved to the living area where a three-seater and two armchairs were positioned around a coffee table. Stevie and Clay sat in the middle of the three-seater, arm to arm, thigh to thigh, his hand giving hers an encouraging squeeze.
‘It’s about the tour.’ If she was doing this then she was jumping in feet first. ‘I can’t do it, Mom.’
Her mother blinked and stiffened before flicking her gaze to Clay. ‘Is this you?’
‘No.’ Stevie shook her head vehemently, cutting in before Clay had a chance to answer. ‘It’s not him. It’s me. I have… panic attacks, Mom.’
Her mother frowned. ‘What?’
‘It’s true.’
‘I know you have some nerves before you go on stage, darling, but—’
‘It’s not just nerves, Mom. They’re really bad. Like, think-I’m-going-to-die bad. Throw-up-before-I-go-on-stage bad. My-fingers-tingling-and-spasming bad.’
Her mother sat forward in her chair, her brows creased in concern. ‘How long has this been going on? Is it just since Yolanda… Why didn’t you tell me?’
Stevie unloaded then. Clay had said to tell her everything – so she did.
She recounted every panic attack and how Yolly used to help, but how they’d intensified since she’d been gone and as the pressure on her had increased, especially after the Grammy win.
She spoke about Yolly and how she thought her sister would really want them to be looking forward, not back, and how she just wanted to write songs.
She spoke for almost an hour, standing and pacing for most of it, crying sometimes, her mother crying as well.
And poor Clay not sure what his role was in any of it but stoically sitting and just being there.
Stevie was exhausted by the end of it all, but the telling had been a kind of catharsis in itself.
‘I’m sorry, Mom,’ she said as she sat next to Clay, emotionally shattered.
‘I thought I could go through with it, that I could just meditate or something before going on each night and get through the tour and then it would be done and that would be enough for you. And then I came back here and I knew what I’d been missing these past couple of months in Boston.
Or at least I thought I did, and when I saw Clay this afternoon I realised actually it was him I’d been missing.
I love him, Mom, and he loves me and this is where I want to be. ’
Stevie glanced at Clay. They hadn’t exactly discussed her staying on the ranch but she’d taken a punt that he’d be okay with it. His hand slipping into hers and squeezing was all the confirmation she needed.
‘Oh God, Stephanie.’ Her mom hadn’t said much through Stevie’s diatribe but she had cried, like she was now.
‘I’m so sorry I ever let you think that you just being you wasn’t enough for me.
I’m sorry to you too, Clay.’ She flicked her gaze to him.
‘You told me to ask Stephanie what she wanted and I ignored you.’
Stevie slid him a side-eye and made a mental note to circle back to that later.
‘Thank you for being there for her while I have been so appallingly MIA.’
‘Mom… no. This isn’t me trying to make out you’re a bad mother.’
‘I know.’ Her mother smiled through her tears. ‘I know. But I have been.’
Stevie crossed to her mother, who opened her arms and for the first time in a long time, Stevie felt the power of her mother’s hug again.
Like things were going to be okay.
‘I’m going to fix this,’ her mom murmured. ‘I’m going to fix it.’
‘How?’ Stevie asked, pulling slightly back from the hug. ‘There’s contracts and ticket sales and fans and promoters and lawyers.’
Stevie didn’t want to bankrupt her family over this. She wouldn’t. She’d go on stage dosed to the eyeballs on Valium if she had to.
‘I don’t know.’
Her mother’s frank honesty should have been terrifying, but it wasn’t. It felt real, like she wasn’t living in some fantasy land any more and that’s what they were going to need.
‘But we’ll work something out. I’ll arrange a big meeting with everyone soon back in Boston and we’ll work out a way forward.
Don’t forget, Stevie, you didn’t just sing the number one hit song from last year – you wrote it.
They’re already talking about “Cowboy Kisses” being a mega hit and they’re going to want more where that came from.
Although, you will have to leave the ranch reasonably regularly to get studio time. ’
‘We’ll build her a studio here.’
Startled at his interjection, Stevie glanced at Clay. ‘You… will?’
He nodded. ‘Of course you can use whatever studio you want whenever you want, but we can build you what you need here, too. For convenience. I mean, I don’t know the first thing about how to build a studio but’ – he shrugged with a deprecating smile that filled Stevie’s heart with joy – ‘that’s what the internet’s for, right? ’
Good Lord – this man. How’d she get so lucky?
Stevie didn’t know what to say. It had been such an overwhelming few hours – emotional, cathartic, restorative – and Clay had been the cornerstone of it all.
Her mother said it for her. ‘He’s a keeper, that one, darling.’
‘Yeah.’ Stevie gave her mom a squeeze before she crossed to Clay, sliding her arm around his waist as he stood. ‘I’m lucky.’
Clay shook his head. ‘I’m the lucky one.’
Her mother smiled at them, her eyes suddenly shiny again. ‘You deserve to be happy, darling. Yolanda would definitely have wanted that.’
Stevie blinked back tears as she revelled in Clay’s strong arms around her, sending a quick pray of thanks to her sister for sending this cowboy her way.
Music starting up outside penetrated their bubble and Stevie realised how much time had passed. ‘That’ll be the cookout.’ On cue, her stomach growled. ‘I’m starving.’
‘Me too,’ Clay said.
Stevie grinned at the glint in his eyes. The two of them had sure worked up an appetite in that shower. ‘You coming, Mom?’
‘Soon. You guys go ahead. I’m going to call your dad and check on Gran.’
After a quick hair fix, Stevie and Clay stepped out onto the back porch, the fairy lights from the BBQ area popping in her peripheral vision. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.
Stevie expelled a long breath. ‘Better.’ There were still a lot of things that needed to be settled but her and her mom were okay. And she and Clay – they were more than okay. ‘Thank you for pushing me to do that,’ she murmured. ‘I never knew how much I needed it.’
She kissed him then, long and slow, enjoying the lazy spiral of it until she reluctantly pulled back. They wouldn’t make the cookout at this rate and it was the wrap party. She was kinda expected. Plus there were a lot of people to thank.
He held out his hand. ‘Shall we?’
Stevie looked at his offering. She knew if they arrived hand in hand, the secret they’d kept all these months wouldn’t be secret any more. Sliding her fingers through his, Stevie smiled as they walked towards the party.
And that was a wrap.