I PUSH BACK from the table, placing my hands on my distended stomach. “Mom, I’m gonna miss these meatballs.”
She smiles at my compliment, while her sister, Aunt Doreen, replies, “Grandma’s recipe never fails.”
Seated around my parents’ Sunday dinner table are most of the important people in my life—my small family of four plus my aunt and uncle, and my cousins. They have always supported my dream, and now that dream is finally becoming a reality.
My younger brother, sitting in his regular spot beside me, jumps into the conversation. “So, this Noah guy went backstage to a bar you were playing in New York City, and said that Platinum Records is taking pity on you?”
Something about Jayson’s taunt makes me feel like I’m back in middle school, not the twenty-five-year-old man that I am. A man with a newly inked contract from the Platinum Records. I reach over and shove his shoulder. He turns to me, wielding a butter knife.
Mom’s stern voice freezes our antics in their tracks. “Boys.”
We both say, “Sorry, Mom,” in unison. This is something we have down to an art. The knife clatters to Jayson’s plate.
Shaking her head at her supposedly adult children—a gesture undermined by her grin—she says, “Help me clear the table.”
My brother and I collect the serving platters and carry them into the kitchen. I join Mom at the sink to rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher, and Jayson returns to the dining room for dirty dishes. We automatically revert to our old Sunday routine whenever Jayson and I are home.
After Mom and I finish loading, Aunt Doreen enters the kitchen and opens the fridge. “To celebrate your new career milestone, I made a red velvet cake for dessert.”
My mouth waters. How weird to suddenly long for something I’ve taken for granted all my life, something I’m about to enjoy with my family. Aunt Doreen is an expert baker, and her cakes are one of the many things I’m going to miss about home.
“Thanks. You know it’s my favorite.” While she pulls out a large, rectangular cake box, Mom removes plates from the china cabinet and I head over to the coffee maker. I know this choreography by heart, but it strikes me that I’ll have to learn a completely new dance now that I’m moving to Los Angeles.
Mom piles forks on top of the stack of plates. “So, you’re sure Dan has room for you in his apartment? I don’t want it to damage your friendship.”
I pour the water into the back of the machine. “Mom, we lived together for four years in college. It’s going to be fine. Besides, his roommate moved out a couple of months ago, so the timing’s perfect. With any luck, I’ll be going out on tour soon, and he’ll get the best of both worlds—I’ll pay my share of the rent and he’ll have the place all to himself.”
Jayson, who’s been bustling in and out between the dining room and the kitchen pauses to make a face at me.
“Do you know when you’re going to be on tour?” Aunt Doreen asks with a smile. “Your uncle and I will want to buy tickets for as many shows as we can.”
Ignoring my brother, I return her grin. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen just yet, but I hope to cut an album and get out on tour sooner rather than later. And no buying tickets—you’ll have free tickets to any concert you want to attend.”
“The perks of having a nephew who’s a rock star.”
“That’s the plan.” Opening the cabinet with the coffee, I continue, “And I’m going to win a Grammy.”
“It’s good that you’re keeping your goals modest,” she teases.
Mom taps her sister’s shoulder. “Hey, Cole can do anything he sets his mind to.” She smiles at me. “I have faith in you, sweetheart.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I kiss her cheek and give my aunt a dirty look, earning a throaty chuckle from her. Returning to my dessert duties, I add the coffee to the machine and turn it to brew.
Dad enters the kitchen. “The kids are getting restless out there, Jules. They know there’s red velvet cake for dessert.” He swats Mom on the butt, causing her to giggle.
“We’ll be right there,” she replies. The two share an intimate look, then he picks up the pints of ice cream Jayson had left on the counter and disappears into the dining room. Theirs is a one-of-a-kind love. Something I admire and cherish. Something for which I’m definitely not in the market.
Aunt Doreen takes a cake knife from the drawer, clears her throat and the two sisters squint at each other. My body tenses. This body language usually precedes some unanticipated concession by me. Busying myself by returning the coffee tin to the cabinet, I turn to escape the kitchen before…
“Cole.”
Shit. Not fast enough. “Yes, Mom.”
Mom starts, “We’ve been talking.”
I open my mouth, but Aunt Doreen jumps in before I can get anything out. “We know that you’re a grown man now, and you’re starting a high-profile career.”
“But I don’t want my son to have a bad-boy reputation,” Mom blurts out. She cups my cheek. “I didn’t raise you to be wild.”
Her sister moves in for the kill, placing her hand on my forearm for a brief moment. “Please be careful. Don’t get caught up in the lifestyle you’ll be offered.”
Mom drops her hand. “Promise me you won’t become one of those out-of-control stars we hear about on the news.”
My heart races. I need a cigarette. I’m flanked by two of the strongest women I’ve ever known, and their concern is both touching and intrusive. But it’s born from love. I glance from one pair of green eyes to the next and swallow.
Mom presses. “Promise me.”
I’m not giving up the perks of my soon-to-be-lifestyle—women and parties being at the top of the list. I’ve earned this. However, the set of their jaws tells me I’m not getting out of this kitchen without giving them my word.
“Promise,” she repeats.
I gauge the distance to the dining room. Too far. Mom crosses her arms, and Aunt Doreen follows suit.
Rubbing my hands up and down my legs, I mumble, “Okay, fine, I promise. I won’t get a bad rep.”
Dazzling smiles greet my capitulation. They pick up the dessert and dishes and leave me in the kitchen wondering how the hell I’m going to both honor and get around my vow.