Chapter Ten. Luna
Chapter Ten
Luna
I wake up to Riley and me sitting in the still van alone, with only the sound of the AC keeping us company. “Are we here?” I murmur as I sit up.
Riley laughs and peels her arm off my shoulders. I feel the cool air hit the places that were warm from her body heat just a moment ago and I wish she were still holding me. “We arrived twenty minutes ago. I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Mmm, thank you.” The events of the day come rushing back to me.
I’m Grammy nominated for the first time ever.
I definitely can’t leave Hudson because everyone will hate me and I might then not win said Grammys.
But for a few hours, watching Riley in her element in the kitchen, I was able to forget about all of that and just have fun.
“Ready for the next tasting?” she asks, and I nod and follow her out of the car.
It’s so easy to follow her, because I know that she’s always looking out for me.
Even though I’ve only known her for just over a week, I can tell how genuine she is.
I’ve been so focused on my career that any friendships I had wilted as I moved to Nashville and then New York.
Anyone I’ve met in the industry or through Hudson hasn’t felt like a true friend.
They don’t know that I love planes or that every time I sing, I think of my mom.
They just know my follower count and what I can do for them.
Always ready to take a photo for their socials, but when I try to be open and connect with them, they barely look up from their phones.
But with Riley, I get to just be Luna instead of Luna Leya the pop star. It feels nice. Really nice.
We spend the rest of the day going to the other tastings, and at each one I make sure to ask the chef to come talk to Riley and take her back into the kitchen.
She lights up as she gets to learn from them, and it thrills me that I’m the one giving this experience to her.
When we’re on our way back to the villa, after our final stop in Ronda, Riley turns to me.
“This was so fun,” she says earnestly, her eyes bright. “I really appreciate you pushing me to cook with the chefs and asking them to share all their secrets with me.”
“I—Of course.” I’m blushing, even though she hasn’t really said anything that warrants the butterflies in my stomach. I just … I want to give her things. I like knowing I made her happy.
“And congrats on the Grammy. Don’t let the glow of it wear off, okay?”
For a moment I feel pressure, like I might cry.
We really haven’t known each other very long, but already she can tell that that’s exactly what was about to happen.
I was going to strategize with Ashley until it wasn’t fun anymore, then sit alone in my room and realize it all feels hollow.
But now I nod. “I won’t,” I pledge. I hesitate, then continue.
“It’s more than just a career win. My mom—” My words catch, but I press on. “I promised her I’d do this.”
I remember that day, which I didn’t realize would be the last day.
I woke up with a start, my head jerking up and pain shooting through my neck because of the weird angle it was at. “Are you okay?” I asked immediately.
My mom was in the at-home hospice bed in front of me, gray and thin, propped up against a mountain of pillows. “I’m here, sweetie,” she said. “You should go sleep.”
“I’m not tired,” I said, my voice catching and my eyes filling. I swallowed, willing it back. I didn’t want to spend this time sobbing.
“I’ll still be here.” My mom smiled and I smiled back. I wished I believed her.
I got up out of the armchair that I’d dragged over to the hospital bed that we’d put in the living room and got into bed with my mom.
We’d made the living room into a makeshift hospital bedroom so that my mom could watch the New Yorkers on the sidewalk below us during these last few weeks.
Every second I’d spent here had splintered something in my heart, but I was desperate for as much time as possible.
I didn’t want to leave to take a shower or pee.
I didn’t want to step away for even a moment because that was time that I’d lose with her.
I rested my head gingerly on my mom’s frail shoulder. “I love you,” I breathed.
“I love you too, baby, more than you’ll ever know. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Nothing will ever be okay again, I thought.
“I know,” I said instead.
My mom didn’t smell like herself anymore.
She had always smelled like Trésor perfume, but now it had been replaced by something vaguely antiseptic mixed with sweat and some other smell that I couldn’t place but now would always associate with death.
I’d ordered one hundred bottles of Trésor from my phone so that should it ever get discontinued, I’d still be able to smell it.
I couldn’t imagine back then how I would be able to keep on living without her. I wondered if when she went, my breath would just catch and I wouldn’t be able to take another one.
“You know, I always knew you’d be a superstar. I bet everything I had on it.”
“I know,” I said, my voice small against my mom’s chest. I could hear her heartbeat, and I listened closely to it, rhythmic and reassuring.
My mom went into credit card debt paying for us to move to Nashville, and the first thing I did when I got the royalties on my first album was pay it all off.
What she didn’t realize is that I’d spent almost all of my savings on getting her the best doctors and home health aides. I told her insurance had paid.
I’d become a success, not a superstar. I’d just passed a billion streams, but I made 0.
002 cents a stream, and I had to pay my team and my lawyers, and medical bills are eye-wateringly expensive when you pay out of pocket.
But it was only the beginning of my career.
I was on the cusp. I had just thought my mom would be here for the rest.
“Say your speech for me.”
“What?”
“Sweetie, I want to hear the Grammy speech. I know you’ll be up there soon, and I want to get to hear it.”
I’d wanted to say she’d be here for it. But instead I just nodded and sat up. “Give me a sec. I need to make this good. What Grammy am I oh-so-graciously accepting today?”
“Best New Artist. Obviously.”
“Not Album of the Year?” I teased.
“Not yet. I want that one to be a surprise.” My mom reached out and squeezed my hand. I could feel how raw her skin was; the chemo made it dry and sensitive, and I reached for a bottle of La Mer hand cream I’d bought her and gently massaged it into her hands.
I took a deep breath and imagined myself on that stage, with bright lights, and my mom and Ashley in the audience beaming up at me.
“I can’t believe I finally made it up here.
First let me say, thank you to the academy.
Thank you for seeing my music so clearly, and giving songs about girlhood the respect they deserve.
Mom, you gave up everything for me to get here.
Thank you cannot even begin to express how much gratitude I have to you for putting a guitar in my hands and believing in me so wholeheartedly.
Instead of grounding me when I failed my math test because I stayed up all night writing a song, you told me it was good and drove us to Nashville.
Thank you. And thank you to Ashley, my manager; Charles, my producer; and the team at WWG, for believing in my music.
And thank you to everyone who listened to this album and championed it so beautifully. You’re who I’m writing for. Thank you.”
“I am so proud of you, sweetie. I can’t wait for you to make that speech.
” Tears were running down my mom’s face, and without warning mine started to spill over as well.
“I want you to remember that you’re brilliant.
You’re the most talented songwriter out here, and sometimes these suits don’t see what’s right in front of them.
But you don’t need to listen to anyone but your own heart. ”
“Not even Ashley?” I joked.
“Ashley loves you. She’s going to help you accomplish whatever you want to do, however you want to do it. But I know in my bones that you’re going to get that Grammy.”
“I hope so,” I said quietly. I wanted it so badly, it terrified me.
“There’s no hoping about it. I know so.”
I tell Riley about giving the speech for my mom, and even though there’s so much I can’t say, I know that Riley will understand, because she’s lived this. “I promised her I’d do this. I have to do it. I told Ashley I wanted to do whatever it takes. I need to.”
Riley squeezes my hand, her gaze never leaving mine. “You will. But no matter what, I know your mom was proud of you already.”
“I will hate myself if I don’t do this. If I don’t make it, then what was it all for? Every night I spent away from her that year.” The tears are spilling over, and the pain in my chest is raw, that never-ending hurt that doesn’t go away, but I sometimes can get so busy, I forget to feel.
“You can’t get stuck on those days,” Riley says firmly.
“It’ll eat you alive. Trust me. And just imagine your mom could see this!
You’re on a world tour, headlining. You get recognized everywhere you go.
You’re exactly where she was trying to get you.
You can let yourself enjoy it, even though she’s not here. ”
I open my mouth to argue, instinctively, then I close it. I’m used to people saying all kinds of bullshit about grief, but Riley’s words actually hit the nail on the head. I don’t want to admit that, but I do feel guilty enjoying this without my mom. “Is that how you feel?” I ask.
Riley’s face, she almost winces. The pain is clearly unrelenting for her, too. “Yeah,” she says shortly. “You know, Liv wanted to be a chef? And I’m the one here. It … of course it hurts. Even if I know she wouldn’t want that.”
I don’t know what to say. But I squeeze Riley’s hand back. And when I hear her heavy exhalation, I feel understood for the first time in a long time.
I hold her hand until the light of the villa looms in front of us. It’s only reluctantly that I let go, and when we walk to our separate rooms, I realize that despite being surrounded by people who want to see me, this is the first time I’ve felt seen since my mom died.