Chapter 28
The taxi pulled up outside Mama’s house, the same one she’d lived in since before I was born. My hands shook as I fumbled with the latch, swinging the car door open. I hadn’t been this nervous coming home since the summer after I graduated high school and I’d decided to move to Nashville and chase my dreams.
My stomach churned as I stumbled out of the cab. The driver popped the trunk and I grabbed my guitar case, the one thing I’d made damn sure not to leave behind, and my hastily packed suitcase. He peeled away from the kerb, leaving me standing there like an idiot, staring up at the weathered white siding and the faded blue shutters like I’d never seen them before.
“Well, well, well. Lookee what the cat dragged in.”
I spun around to find Gertrude Finkle leaning over the porch railing next door, her bright blue housecoat flapping in the breeze. She eyed me up and down, her lips pursed like she’d just bit into a lemon.
Subtly, I hid my hand behind my back. I should have taken the ring off before I got to town, but no matter how I’d tried on the plane, I just couldn’t. Now, I had no choice unless I wanted the entire gossip brigade spreading it around town that the goodie goodie musician had come home married without a husband.
“Hey, Miss Gert,” I called out, pasting on a smile that felt as brittle as one of Hattie’s stale biscuits. I slipped the ring off and slotted it into my pocket, squashing my guilt. “Long time no see.”
“Didn’t expect to see you back so soon,” she said, her voice dripping with pointed curiosity. “Thought you were off gallivanting around the country with that fancy-pants band of yours.”
“Just taking a little break,” I said lightly, hoping she couldn’t hear the wobble in my voice. “Thought I’d come home and check on Mama.”
Gertrude’s eyes narrowed. “Just as well. Poor thing’s been lookin’ a bit peaked lately if you ask me. Could use some company.” She sniffed. “Well, I won’t keep you.” Gertrude waved a dismissive hand. “Best get on in there. And Olivia?” Her voice softened, just a touch. “It’s good to have you home, sugar.”
Tears pricked at the backs of my eyes. I blinked them away, refusing to fall apart under Gertrude’s hawkish gaze. “Thanks, Miss Gert. It’s good to be back.”
With a final nod, she disappeared back into her house, the screen door slamming behind her. I took a deep, shuddering breath and started up the walk, my legs feeling like lead weights with every step.
The porch boards creaked under my feet, a familiar sound that echoed through my bones. How many times had I bounded up these steps, eager to tell Mama about my latest song or some boy who’d caught my eye? How many lazy afternoons had I spent on that old porch swing, strumming my guitar and dreaming of the day I’d make it big?
I raised a trembling hand and opened the door.
“Mama?” I called out as I stepped into the house and dropped my bags in the foyer.
“In here, baby!” Mama’s voice drifted from the kitchen, followed by the clanging of pots and pans.
I kicked off my boots and padded down the hallway, drinking in the familiar sights and smells of home. The faded floral wallpaper, the slightly crooked family photos lining the walls. It all wrapped around me like a warm hug, soothing the ragged edges of my heart.
I stepped into the kitchen and spotted her standing at the stove with her back to me. Her brown hair was pulled up in a messy bun. She turned, a bright smile already curving her lips.
“There’s my baby girl.” She opened her arms wide. “Get over here and give your mama a hug.”
I didn’t hesitate. I crossed the room in two quick strides and threw my arms around her, burying my face in her shoulder.
She felt thinner than I remembered, more fragile somehow. But she still smelled the same, like vanilla and cinnamon and home.
“Oh, Livvy,” she murmured, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Wish you hadn’t come but I’m so glad you’re here.” She pulled back and swiped at the tears that had escaped to trickle down my cheeks. “Is that selfish of me?”
“Of course not. I need to be here.”
She cupped my face in her hands, her green eyes, so much like my own, shining with love and understanding. “I know. But I still hate that you had to leave your tour for this. For me.”
I shook my head vehemently. “No. Don’t you dare apologise. There is nowhere, nothing more important than being here with you right now.”
She smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I just don’t want you putting your life on hold for me, Livvy. You’ve worked so hard for this.”
“Stop it,” I said firmly, gripping her hands in mine. “You and Dustin and this family are more important. Everything else is just… details.” She looked like she wanted to argue, but I cut her off with a fierce hug, holding her as tightly as I dared. “I love you, Mama,” I whispered, my throat tight with tears. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she murmured into my hair.
We stayed like that for a long moment, just holding each other, soaking in the comfort of being together again. But as I breathed in her familiar scent, I couldn’t help but notice how much sharper her bones felt beneath my hands, how much more pronounced her collarbone was above the collar of her shirt.
I pulled back, really looking at her for the first time since I’d walked in. She was still beautiful, still the same Mama I’d always known. But there was no denying the toll her illness had taken. The shadows beneath her eyes, the pallor of her skin, the way her clothes hung a little looser on her frame.
It hit me then, really hit me, the reality of what we were facing. This wasn’t just some bad dream or distant fear. This was happening, right here, right now. She was slipping away. And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.
“Mama…” I started, my voice cracking on the word.
But before I could continue, the front door slammed, followed by the thud of heavy footsteps. “Hey Ma, you home?”
“In here, Dustin,” Mama called, her eyes never leaving mine. “You got a surprise visitor.”
My brother lumbered into the room, all six-foot-two of him, his chestnut hair sticking up in wild tufts. He stopped short when he saw me, his mouth falling open.
“Well, damn. If it ain’t Miss Nashville herself, gracing us with her presence.” His shock quickly morphed into a teasing grin. “To what do we owe this honour, your highness?”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t stop my own grin from spreading. “Shut up, twerp.”
I crossed the room and threw my arms around him, squeezing tight. He hugged me back just as fiercely, nearly lifting me off the ground.
“Missed you, Liv,” he mumbled into my hair, so low only I could hear.
“Missed you too, Dusty,” I whispered back, using the childhood nickname I knew he hated.
He set me down, ruffling my hair like he used to when we were kids. “Not that I’m not thrilled to see you, but what gives? Thought you were living the high life out on the road with The Brightside.”
My smile faded, and I glanced at Mama. Did he know? One look at her expression told me everything I needed to know.
“Why don’t you sit down, Dustin? We need to talk.” She gestured to the kitchen table with a sad smile.
Dustin’s brow furrowed, confusion and concern etching lines into his boyish face. “What’s going on, Ma?”
I swallowed hard, my stomach twisting into knots. This was it. The moment of truth, the awful, unavoidable reality we had to face head-on.
Mama sighed, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs. She suddenly looked so small, so tired. It made my heart clench painfully in my chest.
“I’m sick, Livvie,” she said softly, reaching out to take Dustin’s hand in hers. “Real sick. I got diagnosed with cancer a few months back. Stage four ovarian cancer.”
Dustin’s face went slack, the colour draining from his cheeks. “What? No, that’s not… Ma, are you sure?”
She nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m sure, honey. I’ve been going through treatments, but… it’s not looking good.”
“How long have you known?” His voice was tight, strained with the effort of keeping his emotions in check.
“A while now.” She glanced at me, apology written all over her face.
“And you’re just telling me now?” Dustin turned to me, hurt and accusation burning in his eyes. “Did you know about this, Liv?”
I flinched at the betrayal in his tone. “I only found out yesterday.”
“But she told you before me?” he demanded, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “What the hell, Liv?”
“Don’t you take that tone with your sister,” Mama cut in sharply. “I didn’t tell either of you because I didn’t want you worrying about me. I wanted you both to focus on your own lives, your futures.”
“Screw our futures!” Dustin exploded, slamming his hand down on the counter. “You’re our mother. You don’t think we deserve to know that you’re… that you’re…”
He couldn’t say it. None of us could.
Dying. Our mama was dying.
Her eyes filled with tears, her lip trembling. “I never meant to hurt you. I just… I didn’t want to be a burden. Didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams.”
“We’re adults,” Dustin cut in, his voice rising with each word. “You don’t get to decide what’s a burden for us and what’s not!”
Her lips firmed and her expression hardened, that stubborn Monroe streak coming out.
“I’m sorry,” she said, meeting each of our gazes in turn. “I truly am. But I stand by my decision. You both have so much ahead of you, so much life to live. I didn’t want this to derail everything you’ve worked for.”
“But Mama…” My voice cracked, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it had come. “None of that matters without you. Don’t you get that? You’re everything to us.”
Dustin nodded, swiping roughly at his eyes. “Liv’s right, Ma. Fuck the shop, fuck Nashville. If you’re sick, then we’re gonna be right here.”
Mama smiled then, a wobbly, tearful thing that somehow still managed to light up the room. “I know you will, babies. And Lord knows I’m gonna need you. But I don’t want this to become your whole life, you hear? I want you to keep living.”
I shook my head, a laugh that was more of a sob bubbling up my throat. “Only you could be facing down cancer and still be worried about everyone else.”
She reached out again and this time, I let her take my hand. Let her pull me into her arms and hold me close while the tears came, hot and fast and relentless.
We stayed like that for a long time, the three of us huddled together in her warm kitchen, crying and holding each other like the world outside had ceased to exist. In a way, it had. Because in that moment, in the circle of my mother’s embrace, everything else fell away. The tour, the fact Lewis didn’t want me enough, my own selfish worries and wants… none of it mattered. Not in the face of this.
When Mama’s sobs had quieted to sniffles, I pulled back, searching her face. “Tell me everything. What did the doctors say? What kind of treatment are you getting?”
She sighed, wiping at her eyes. “They caught it late, after it had already spread. I’ve been doing chemo, but…” She shook her head, her face pinching with resignation. “It’s not looking good. They’re saying six months, maybe a year if I’m lucky.”
The bottom dropped out of my stomach. Six months. A year. I swallowed hard against the bile rising in my throat. “Okay. Okay, so we fight. We get second opinions, we look into clinical trials. There has to be something?—”
“Olivia.” Mama cut me off gently, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. “I appreciate your fighting spirit, I do. But I’ve made my peace with this. I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left chasing false hope and putting my body through hell. I want to live. Really live, while I still can.”
Fresh tears burned my eyes. I wanted to argue, to rail against the unfairness of it all. But the quiet acceptance in her gaze, the serenity in her smile…
How could I deny her that?
“Okay, Mama.” I managed a wobbly smile, leaning into her touch. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll live. We’ll make every moment count.”
“That’s my girl.” She patted my cheek, her eyes shining with love and pride. “Now, enough of all this heavy talk. I want to hear everything about the tour. Did anything develop with that handsome bassist?”
My face flushed, my gaze dropping to my hands. I couldn’t quite bring myself to meet her knowing eyes, not when the mere mention of Lewis sent a pang of longing and confusion spearing through my heart.
“It was amazing,” I said, trying for a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. “Everything I ever dreamed of. Like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
And it was true. Being on that stage, feeling the roar of the crowd, the thrum of the music in my bones… it was a high unlike anything I’d ever known.
“But?” Mama prompted gently, seeing right through me as always.
“It’s… complicated,” I hedged, my heart giving a painful squeeze. “Lewis and I, we’re… I don’t really know what we are right now.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned on her face. “So that’s part of the reason you’re home.”
“No.” I shook my head hard, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that called me a liar. “I’m here for you.”
Dustin, who had been unusually quiet through all of this, cleared his throat awkwardly. “I hate to break up the girl talk, but uh… what bassist are we talking about here? Because if some wannabe rock star is sniffing around my sister, I’m gonna need details.”
I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, the tension and the tears and the sheer absurdity of it all bubbling up and out of me in great, gulping guffaws. Mama joined in and soon even Dustin was chuckling, shaking his head at the picture we made.