Chapter Twenty-Seven
Gabby
Trying to quell my attack of nerves, I follow Shannon, Jonathan’s mom, into the cafe she’s selected for our lunch together. Jonathan and I drove over to his parents’ house, and he stayed there to work on some stuff. Then I climbed into Shannon’s BMW, and now here we are.
It’s fancier than I expected, with white tablecloths on tables bearing water goblets with folded burgundy napkins fanning out of them at each place setting. Large windows along the front wall and one side let in daylight, lending an airy feel to the setting. The hostess leads us past other diners to a table near the back, setting our menus in front of us and murmuring that our server will be right with us.
Shannon offers a smile and opens her menu. “This place only serves fresh, seasonal food. It’s delicious. I hope you can find something you like.”
Opening my own menu, I fight the urge to take her words beyond their face value. I give a small smile in return. “I’m sure I will.” Why wouldn’t I be able to, after all? Do I have terrible taste in food because I’m a college student? Or because I’m from Texas? Or does she just think I’m a moron?
Studying the menu and selecting lunch—I settle on a grilled chicken sandwich on a ciabatta roll with a balsamic sauce—fortunately means I don’t have to feel uncomfortable with the silence between us. Uncomfortable silences make me want to fill them. Which means I babble. And I don’t want to babble in front of Jonathan’s mom, who already isn’t my biggest fan. I don’t think she’d find my babbling cute and endearing like her son does. Or amusing, like my family does.
I close my menu and look around, spreading the napkin over my lap. Shannon’s still studying her menu. It’s not until the waiter comes and takes our orders that Shannon meets my eyes again. She orders right away, making me think she was reading over the menu as an excuse not to talk to me. But she gives me another smile, and I want to believe it’s genuine.
“So, Gabby. You had your last recording session last week?”
I clear my throat. “Yes, that’s right. It ended up taking longer than they’d planned. We had to come back in for an extra half day. But they gave us a bonus for the additional time.”
“That’s nice. Will you be using the money to pay for school?”
“Just for expenses. I have a good financial aid package from Marycliff, and my parents are willing to help. But I like to have my own spending money for going out with friends or whatever.”
She hums, nodding, her hazel eyes studying me. I almost feel like she’s trying to dissect me with her gaze. Or see inside my brain.
She fiddles with her silverware, then folds her hands in front of her. “So you’re still planning on returning to school?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
One dark, manicured eyebrow arches high on her forehead. “Well, you seem to have formed quite an attachment to my oldest son. It doesn’t seem ridiculous to think you might decide to join him on his concert tour.”
With a heavy sigh, I sit back in my chair, rubbing my forehead for a second before answering. “Let’s see, I think you’re the fifth or sixth person to ask me that in the last few weeks. You’ll have to excuse me if I’m getting a little tired of repeating myself. No. I’m not dropping out of school to follow Jonathan around on tour. That would be beyond stupid of me. I’d lose my scholarship. Lose my place in the program. Meaning I’d have to re-audition at some point in the future. And how much practicing would I get done on tour with him? What would I even do?”
“Touring’s pretty busy. I’m sure Jonathan would find you a job if you didn’t just want to be a glorified groupie.”
I flinch at that statement. “Is that really what you think of me?”
She lets out a breath, her face softening a little. “No, Gabby. I’ve seen enough groupies to know what they’re like. And you’re most definitely not a groupie. From what I can tell, you and Jonathan have real feelings for each other. You’re not some hyperactive fan only after him because of his star status.”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “I’m not. I’ve never been after him because of that. I met him before all of this started again. I like him for who he is, not because of his fame or whatever. I fell in love with him before any of that.”
Her eyebrow arches again. “That’s not entirely true.”
I huff. “I meant this time. Obviously not when he was a teenager. And yes, I did find out about that, that he was in Brash, when we first met. But I’d already started to like him by then. The fact that he was also my junior high celebrity crush has nothing to do with me liking him now.”
She gives me a small smile, looking me over with something that might be mistaken for affection. “Good. I’m glad to know that.”
Whatever else she might be about to say is interrupted by the waiter returning with our plates. He sets her chicken Caesar salad in front of her, and my sandwich in front of me, making sure we have everything we need before leaving again. The next several minutes are spent digging into our food, but Shannon’s eyes study me off and on while we eat.
Finally she says, “Have you thought any more about the future? What you plan to do after college?”
Finishing the bite in my mouth slowly to stall for time, I think about how to answer her question. “Not really.” There’s no way in hell I’m telling her about my newfound inspiration to compose. “I already told you I’d like to play with an orchestra. And if I could make it as a soloist, that’d be cool too. But I know it’s a competitive world.”
She nods, her expression solemn. “Extremely.”
I’m silent in the face of that, not sure what to say. So I take a drink of my water to cover my lack of response.
Shannon doesn’t seem bothered, though. “I can tell you with absolute certainty that it is a very competitive world. I know I already told you that I had a promising opera career prematurely cut short. And while opera roles and orchestra positions aren’t quite the same, they both take the same amount of dedication. Countless hours in practice rooms, constantly honing and refining your skills until you’re the best. Until every day is a good day, even your bad days. So you can win auditions and nail every note. I know what it takes.”
Her eyes bore into mine, conviction vibrating in her voice. I nod wordlessly, still not sure how she expects me to respond.
She nods, too, like she’s satisfied that she’s gotten her point across. “I also know what it takes for Jonathan to be successful as a popular artist. It’s not the same, exactly, but it’s equally grueling. His life is about to turn completely upside down. You’ve gotten a taste of that already when that video went viral last year. But that will seem like nothing compared to what’s coming. It’s already started, but the attention he’s getting now is like the first few drops of rain before the hurricane hits. And the hurricane is about to make landfall.”
I blink at her. “Okay.”
A long pause stretches between us, and Shannon takes a deep breath. When she speaks again, her voice is softer, gentler. “Which is why I think I’m the best person to give you some advice. And I hope you’ll listen and seriously consider what I’m saying.”
Another blink. “Um, alright.”
“You need to break up with Jonathan.”
I flinch again. “What?” The sound of my question echoes through my own head, the one word the only thought I have. What? What?
She sighs, like a parent frustrated with a child who’s not listening. “You need to break up with Jonathan. It has to be you. He’s too wrapped up in his own head, in what he thinks he needs or what he wants, to do it. You’ve done it before. Because you have a strong sense of self-preservation. Which is good. You need that in the music business. You need a strong sense of self. And you need to look out for your own interests, because believe me, no one else will. Me, here, doing this? This is me looking out for your interests as well as Jonathan’s.”
“What?” I’ve apparently lost the ability to say anything else.
Shannon’s nostrils flare, and now she seems more irritated. “Gabby, you’re a smart girl. You have to see that this thing between the two of you can’t work. You couldn’t even handle being apart for a few weeks. How are you going to handle it when you’re back at school and he’s on tour? Hmm? What do you think that’s going to be like?”
My mouth opens, and I look all around, like the answers will float to me on the sunshine flooding through the windows. “It’ll be hard. And horrible. But we’ll make it through. I’ll see him when he’s in Spokane. And Seattle and Portland.”
There goes her eyebrow arching up again. “You think that’ll be enough? You think Jonathan will be satisfied with that?”
I shake my head. “We’ll figure it out. It’ll be hard, but it’s not impossible. We’ll make it work.”
“How? How do you plan on making it work?”
I’m still shaking my head, and I push my plate away, my sandwich only half eaten, all traces of my appetite gone. “I don’t know yet. But we’ll come up with something.”
She sighs again, her voice soft once more. “Gabby. You’re only setting yourself up for heartbreak or resentment or both. He’ll get tired of being without you, and he’ll ask you to join him on tour. Which will destroy your musical career before it’s even begun, and you’ll end up resenting him for making you give up your dreams so he can live his. Then you’ll be with him, and he’ll want to spend all his time with you instead of living up to the demands of his tour.”
My hands grip the cloth napkin on my lap, trembling with suppressed emotion. Anger. No. Rage. At this woman. At her meddling. And here I thought we were getting somewhere. Now I see it was all a setup. For this.
“I won’t be joining Jonathan on tour. Except for seeing him occasionally when my schedule and finances allow it.”
Her gaze sharpens. “Is that your real plan for the money you’ve made this summer?” Before I can answer, she waves that question away. “Never mind. That doesn’t matter. That’s not the point. The point is that if you’re with Jonathan on tour, you’ll be a distraction. If you’re not with Jonathan on tour, you’ll be a distraction because he’ll constantly be thinking about you and wanting to talk to you and figure out when he can see you again.” She shakes her head. “The only answer is for you to break up. If you’re not in the picture, you can’t be a distraction. And if you’re not in a relationship with him anymore, then you won’t sacrifice your own dreams for someone else. Believe me when I tell you that giving up on a dream should only be done out of absolute necessity. And even then, it’s painful beyond belief.”
My mouth is open, in shock. I’m searching for something to say to that, but I can’t sort through all the thoughts and feelings flying through my head. I’m completely at a loss for something to say.
At last, I stand, closing my mouth and swallowing hard. “I understand where you’re coming from, but I disagree.” I lean over the table, punctuating my next statement by jabbing my finger into the table. “I love Jonathan, and he loves me. Yes, I broke up with him before, in a failed attempt to save myself from future heartache. And you know what I learned from that? I learned that there’s no getting over what Jonathan and I have. Not for me. And not for him. We’re in this. Together. For the long haul. Yes, things will be tough. For a while, probably. But we’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work. And the last thing I am is a distraction. I’m the one who helps Jonathan work. Just as he does for me. We make each other better. Not worse.”
Before she can respond, I leave. Too furious to even say goodbye. With my phone in my shaking hand, I pull up the Uber app and request a car. I need to talk to Jonathan, but I need to calm down first. I don’t want him to panic. And I don’t want him to be so angry with his mom that he cuts her off. I refuse to come between him and his family, even if his mother is a raging bitch.
I walk a block down the road to wait for the car. Just in case Shannon decides to follow me out. I have no desire to speak to her any more today. Maybe ever, though that’s probably impossible.
I’ll call Jonathan when I get back to his apartment.