“Then,what the hell’s the point in waiting?” He raised a good argument and Ishrugged, not having a good answer, andSebslapped ahand against my knee. “See, man? I know shit. You people never give me enoughcredit.”
***
I’vebeen to a lot of concerts. I’ve seen a lot of opening acts. And not once had Iexperienced one quite like Molly Dyer.
Everynight on this tour had led to this one. Underneath the open sky in the outdooramphitheater, she drew the crowd to her without question. She commanded themwith the stomp of her bare feet and the clap of her hands. They played with herwithout instruction, and I swear with every passing night, more and more peopleknew the lyrics to her songs until every person in the audience sang along.
Tonight, I didn’t need to look up to know therewasn’t a single star shining brighter than Molly, and I was alive only with thelight of being helplessly, hopelessly, in love with her.
Iwatched from the side of the stage as she spun from the microphone, dancing andstrumming her guitar with messy precision. Her curls trailed behind her,fanning out in dark disarray with the length of her skirt. With rosy cheeks anda glistening brow, nobody in the world had ever looked more gorgeous. I cockedmy head at the onset of memory, thinking about my old friends in high schooland lifting my lips in a sheepish grin at the thought of what they’d say aboutme now. The tables had turned. Not only was I with the girl they took part intormenting, but now she was popular, praised, and envied. And me? I was the onebeing bullied for things I couldn’t help.
Withthe final strum of her guitar, Molly stood in the center of the stage, pantingand catching her breath, as the audience exploded with applause. Her headtipped back to bask in the deserved attention, still tightly gripping the neckof her guitar. My heart galloped as I fought the urge to run out there and takeher in my arms. I stuffed my desperate hands into my pockets and bit mystarving lips.
Shewalked toward the mic, tired and grinning. “Thanks,y’all,”she said before brushing her hair back from her face and shaking her head atthe crowd as they continued to applaud. The stampede of hands trickled to asilence, and she continued, “I can’t believe this is the last show of the tour.I come from a sleepy little town in Texas, and four months there seems to dragon and on when you’relivin’ the same routine day inand day out. But on the road, I’ve learned that four months flies by quickerthan I could ever imagine.Openin’ for Devin O’Leary& the Blue Existence has been an absolute dream come true and an experienceI will never forget.”
“Welove you, Molly!” a woman from deep in the crowd called, and another round ofapplause broke out. I smiled as Molly laughed and uttered an “oh, geez.”
“Ifsomeone told me four months ago, that this would be my life, I’d tell ‘emthey were insane. But here we are. Thank you. Everysingle one ofy’all. And thank you so, so much toDevin for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime, and to Chad, forintroducin’ Devin to my music in the first place.Travellin’ in a bus with a bunch of sweaty men wasn’tnearly as disgusting as I thought it’d be. So, let’s give it up to those guys,because they’re about to come out here in just a bit and I don’t want themthinkin’y’allonly came just forme.” She giggled nervously at her shot of self-appraisal and led the crowd intoa chorus of cheers. Then, with a wave, she thanked them one last time, andturned to leave the stage.
AsMolly walked toward me, disheveled and rosy-cheeked, I grinned and opened myarms. The first night of the tour, she had rushed toward me with deliriousexuberance, but tonight, she took her time. She stepped into the forcefield ofmy grasp, dropped her guitar against an amp, and gathered her hands at my chestas she breathed. It felt like relief, as she settled against me and my armswrapped around her.
Iclosed my eyes and held on tight, wondering what our reality would become oncewe were no longer on the road. My mind clouded with worry for a future ofillness and lack of distraction as she resumed her old routine, and I hoped Iwas wrong. I hoped we wouldn’t fall into the same patterns of a stagnantstandstill, the way I had with Ali. I hoped Molly would still want this, oncethe glamorous world of being on the road and in the spotlight had faded, andshe was left with simply me.
Withthat thought, I lifted my eyes to the sky and made a wish on the stars.
32
AlwaysBe Strong
MOLLY
“MOLLY!”Mamarushed toward me with her arms outstretched. “Oh, my God, baby girl. Get overhere and give your mama a hug!”
Iobliged, letting go of Chad’s hand to throw my arms around her. We rocked backand forth on unsteady feet as I breathed in her scent of Shalimar and Clorox. Ihad missed her deeply, but I was homenowand nothinghad ever felt so good.
“So…” Mama began coyly, stepping backwith her hands gripped to my shoulders. “Doy’allhave anything youwannatell me?”
Chad’seyes flitted from mine to hers as he asked, “Like what?”
“Oh,come on,” Mama replied exasperatedly. “Youknow.”
“Ireally don’t,” he grumbled as I laughed and said, “Don’t make her say it.”
“Weddingplans, Chad!” She laughed, swatting him playfully against his chest. Then, shelooked to me, narrowing her eyes. “When was the last time you had your period?”
Chadcoughed and I widened my glare. “Mama!” I quickly looked around the bustlingairport, making sure nobody had overheard. “Jesus, you should keep some thingsto yourself.”
“Why?”She shrugged innocently. “I was justwonderin’ if Ineeded to startworkin’ on decorating a nursery.”
“Well,no. You don’t,” I replied shortly, and slipped my hand back into Chad’s, whereit belonged, and sighed contentedly at his smile.
Thetruth was, I wasn’t entirely sure of what was going on with him. These past fewweeks had gotten under his skin. I especially felt it, when we laid in bed atnight. I knew he’d been itching to check social media all day, to read thecomments and negative articles that had seemed to catch on way quicker than Iever expected. I hated that it was happening at all, and hated even more thatit was happening to him, tous, butTy had told me months ago that this was the price of being in the public eye.
Afterseeing the cost, I wasn’t so sure I wanted to pay up.
Mamagrabbed one of my suitcases and dragged it behind her toward the airport doorsas she said, “So, babies, Connie and I got some dinnerwaitin’.We figuredy’allwould be tired and you’d justwannacrash for a while, but we thought you’d need to eatfirst.”
Chadapproved with a statement that he could eat an elephant, and we followed Mamato her car. Hank waited in the driver’s seat and gave us a friendly wave as wethrew our bags in the trunk. We climbed in, buckled up, and within minutes ofdriving, Chad began to nod off against the window. He was always so exhausted,and with a tug against his arm, I encouraged him to lay his head against myshoulder instead.
