I hugged Mom. “I’m sorry about the media circus.”
She returned the hug, and as I stepped away from her, she put a hand to my cheek. “Take care of them all,mo leanbh. Not only Cassidy and Chevelle, but these other two females you’ve dragged into your wild life. They could all be hurt so easily.”
My chest tightened at her words. I’d thought she was happy. I thought she’d seen it all as a way for me to look out for everyone, but instead, she made it sound like my team…me…we were all a danger to them. Doubt replaced the calm that had filled me, pulling at the strings and trying to unravel the weave that I just thought I’d started to tie together.
Mom was good at making me doubt myself, and there was no Elana around anymore to unravel the worries Mom embedded in me. I hid the hurt as I turned to hug Dad while Mom got into the SUV.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and said quietly, “You have damn good people working for you, son. I’m not worried about it like your mother is.”
Even though it helped to know he didn’t feel the same way as Mom, it also wasn’t the relief that it should have been. When I didn’t respond, he added on, “You’re not responsible for Cassidy’s hypotonia or her body or even her baby. Your mother needs to realize Cassidy is a grown adult who can and will handle whatever comes her way without you or your mom intervening. Us going back to Ireland…it’s a good thing. It will allow me to work on unwinding her some more.”
I snorted at the innuendo that was so unexpected from my dad.
He went to get into the vehicle and then turned back with a wink that looked like mine. “Don’t you dare tell her I said that.”
I laughed, the weight in my chest lightening a little.
Tristan
DREAMS
“Oh, my life
Is changing every day
In every possible way.”
Performed by The Cranberries
Written by Hogan / O'Riordan
Wednesday morning, I woke from anotherfull night of sleep with a twist of hope in my belly that hadn’t been there in weeks—maybe not since Grams’ passing—and I knew the majority of it was due to Brady O’Neil.
Not only because of the way he made me feel when he was standing next to me, not only for the way my daughter was half in love with him and him with her, but also because his team had taken on the festival and started turning it from an old-school event into a true technological, worldwide phenomenon. Grams would have been beside herself.
If we could get the final okays from the last few bands to show the event live online, I was confident I wouldn’t need to use any of Brady’s money. The event would take care of itself. Not only that, it might actually be something I could repeat in the future and keep Grams’ vision alive when I’d thought it was going to die with her.
My insides flipped with happiness.
If only I could find a way to keep the store from going under as well, I would feel like I’d done everything Grams had needed me to do. In order to do that, I needed more money. And the only way I knew how to make money was from my art.
I hadn’t made a killing off of it, but I’d made chunks here and there. Enough to keep my bank account positive. In the media circus of the last few days, I’d completely forgotten the Wilson-Jacobs art competition the dean had mentioned.
I pulled up the college website until I found the page with the contest and sat back stunned. The grand prize was a hundred thousand dollars! The artist selected would have their piece hanging on the huge marble wall in the lobby of the new theater. From the images on the website of the space, I knew exactly what should go there.If the keyhole mural won, it would be hanging in a theater where my vision of Grams would forever be tied to the music she loved. The concerts they’d hold there would be a sort of tribute to the painting and vice versa.
In addition to the grand prize, they were offering two smaller prizes for second and third place, and I certainly wouldn’t turn up my nose at any of the cash prizes, the smallest being ten thousand dollars. The deadline for applying was Friday. My heart hammered at the thought that I’d almost missed it even after the dean had told me about it.
While Hannah watched Korean anime and practiced her piano pieces, I spent the morning loading pictures I’d taken of the mural into the application and filling out the questions about the piece and why it was important to me to have it hanging in the theater.
I’d just finished when the doorbell rang.
A peek through the door showed Brady standing there with an enormous smile on his face and a bouquet in his hands. When was the last time a man had brought me flowers? My heart leaped.
I opened the door, and he’d barely gotten inside before he was crushing me in a hug I felt through every single fiber of my being. When I lifted my face to him, he kissed me tenderly, stealing my breath.
“Well. Good morning,” I said with a smile, stepping back.
His grin widened. Wicked and charming and all Brady. “It is definitely a good one now.”
