Josh nods and gives me a kiss, one that tells me it’s probably for the best I’m putting a tiny bit of space between us tonight. “See you tomorrow,” he says, then he dips out.
Luther and I look at each other, and a slow grin spreads across his face. “I know you’re all in for this band, but you didn’t have to go out and date a lawyer to get us a good rate.”
I laugh. “I didn’t even know he knew all of that.”
“He’s sharp,” Luther says. “We should let him negotiate for us, and if he’s as good as I think he is, he’ll be able to negotiate a good enough deal to make his commission more than worth the while.”
I flop back against the booth seat. “Is this real life? Is this happening? Are we about to sign a record deal?”
“Indeed, mighty-mite,” he says with a shake of his shaggy head. “Indeed we are.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Josh
Saturday.Showtime.
Last night, I had the extreme honor of meeting Grandma Letty in addition to getting a nerve-wracking introduction to Sami’s mom, Gina.
Grandma Letty loves me. Miss Gina is much harder to read, but we ate a dinner cooked by Ava on the patio together—the roommates, Webster women, and me—and it went okay. Miss Gina didn’t laugh at my jokes, but when Sami and I were on our balconies talking for a few minutes like we often do before going to sleep, Miss Gina had poked her head out.
“Josh,” she’d said.
“Hey, Miss Gina. Sorry to keep you awake.”
“You weren’t. My mom and I will ride with you to the festival tomorrow.” Then she’d disappeared inside without waiting for an answer, and Sami had grinned.
“You’re in,” she said. “Don’t blow it.”
So now it’s early afternoon, and I’m knocking on the door next to mine to escort my girlfriend’s mom and grandma to her rock concert. The other girls will drive over to the Arbor—the amphitheater—together.
Grandma Letty takes the front seat of the BMW. Gina looks at the blue-and-white crest on the grill and almost sniffs but not quite before she climbs into the back.
“Have you watched Sami perform before?” I ask them as I put us on the road, hoping to keep any awkward silences from falling.
“Not with the band,” Grandma Letty says. “But I’ve been listening to their songs.Streamingthem. I know they’re going to be good. I can tell. I spruced up my shirt.”
She has indeed bedazzled the Pixie Luna T-shirt stretched across her chest.
Miss Gina is dressed in tan slacks and a neatly tucked plaid blouse. “She was always good when she played in little cafés.” She says it in a way that suggests that’s where she thinks Sami should still be performing.
The Southwest Fest main stage is going to be quite a change of gears for her.
The festival stage is an amphitheater built each spring for the festival. Between the stands and general admission, it holds three thousand people. Today is crisp but not too cold; it’s blue and sunny, the temperature hovering around sixty, perfect for the last weekend before spring.
Sami got one free festival pass, which she gave to her grandmother; she’d bought her mom’s ticket, and the rest of us had sprung for our own, but she was able to get ten VIP show passes, good only during the Pixie Luna set.
I choose the expensive parking so Grandma Letty won’t have to walk far, although I suspect she could probably outdo any of us. She practically vibrates with the same energy Sami has before taking the stage.
We make our way inside the festival amphitheater. We’re a half hour early, and it’s not hard to find the VIP section with Ava’s bright hair marking the spot. What I absolutely don’t expect to see is the familiar set of my grandfather’s shoulders. I pick up my pace to reach him, and I’m even more shocked to find him standing with my mom and dad.
“Hey, y’all,” I say as we reach the group. It looks like Sami’s tenth pass went to Ruby’s brother, Joey, who has somehow provoked a screech of outrage from Ava, who lunges toward him as he dances out of the way, holding something out of her reach.
I turn back to my parents. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Sami invited us,” Gramps says. “She’s my buddy now.”
“Gramps made us come.” This is my dad, his voice cool with a slight undertone of irritation.
