Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jonathan
The sound of the front door opening and closing has me setting my guitar back in its case and heading to the living room. I expect to hear conversation, maybe some laughter, the usual sounds of two people getting along and enjoying each other’s company. But the house is quiet.
I check the time on my phone. It’s a little early for Mom and Gabby to be home from lunch, especially if they’re having a nice time. Maybe Brendan’s home? Colt’s always loud, stomping around everywhere, so I know it’s not him.
A brief glance in the living room reveals no one, so I head into the kitchen. And freeze when I see my mom standing at the counter, sorting through the mail.
“Mom?”
She turns her head in my direction, a soft smile on her lips. “Jonathan. Hi.” Her eyes look over my shoulder, then back at me. “Are your brothers home?”
Crossing my arms, I shake my head. “No. They’ve been gone for a while. I’m not sure where they went. I’ve been in my room, working on something new.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. “Didn’t you just finish writing an album? In a hurry to start on the next one?”
I grunt, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. “It came to me. You know how it goes.” It’s my turn to look around. “Where’s Gabby?”
Mom stills, but recovers quickly, setting the envelope in her hand to one side and glancing at the one behind it. If I didn’t know her, I might miss the slight tell letting me know something’s wrong.
“Mom? What happened?”
She glances at me again. “She didn’t call you?”
“No,” I say slowly. Why would she call me? Unease prickles over my skin. “I thought she was with you. But you’re here, and it appears that she’s not. What happened?”
This time she turns all the way and meets my eyes. “Let’s sit down.”
“I don’t want to sit down. I want you to answer my question, and tell me where my girlfriend is.” My temper is starting to flare. Mom’s behavior is typical for when she wants to break bad news. But I can’t figure out what kind of bad news she might have that I need to sit down for. If she had a fight with Gabby, then I just want answers so I can go see how to fix whatever’s wrong. “Just tell me what happened.”
Mom lets out a sigh, her eyes full of sympathy as she leans against the counter. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I really am. Gabby and I had a long talk at lunch, and I think she might be going home.”
“What?” My arms drop to my sides, and I take an involuntary step into the kitchen. “What are you talking about? What did you say to her? What the hell is going on?”
She holds up her hands as though to ward me off. “Sweetie, calm down. I think it’s for the best, and I’m sure you’ll see the truth of that once you stop and think. She’s a nice girl, she really is. I see why you like her so much. She’s smart and funny and talented. How could you not get drawn in? But honey, think for a second. She’s only nineteen. She still has three years left of school, and no intention of quitting or taking a break.”
“So what? That’s a good thing. Why should she quit? Why should she take a break?”
Mom’s expression turns almost pitying, and her voice softens. “Yes. It is good. I agree. She has dreams and goals, and she should do everything she can to make them come true. But that’s my point. Her dreams take her in the opposite direction of yours. You’re launching a new solo career. You have an album coming out in a month. A concert tour to get ready for. You’ll be traveling, working, promoting. And she’ll be in school. Also busy, just in a different way. How do you think things would work between you? You couldn’t even handle being apart from her for more than a few weeks this summer. What are you going to do when you’re forced apart for weeks or months at a time?”
My molars grind together, my jaw clenching, my hands in fists at my sides. I want to scream, to rage at her calm, sad tone. The questions she asks. That I don’t have good answers for.
“I don’t know,” I admit after a long pause. “I don’t know how we’ll make it work. I just know that I’m damned if I don’t try.” This room holds no answers for me. And if I stay any longer, I’m going to end up shouting at my mother, and I don’t want to do that. Even if she deserves it. I can only imagine what she must’ve said to make Gabby want to cut her trip short. To make her decide to leave without even talking to me. “I have to go. I have to—“ I don’t finish the sentence, shaking my head and turning to leave.
Mom grabs my arm, pulling me back around to face her. “No, Jonathan. Don’t. Let her go. Let this go. I know it’ll be hard for you, but you’ll get over it. Soon you’ll have so much else to focus on that you won’t even have time to worry about this, about her. You don’t need this distraction.”
“I don’t need this distraction?” My temper erupts in a shout, my arms throwing up and out, causing my mom to step back, her hands up again. “What distraction is that? The distraction of having a girlfriend? Because the last thing Gabby is, is a distraction. Or how about the distraction of a mother who can’t stop meddling in my life? Or the distraction of you trying to sabotage my relationship? Because if that’s what you mean, then you’re right. I don’t need those distractions.”
“Jonathan, be reasonable.”
“No, Mom. No. I’m beyond being reasonable. I am in love with Gabby. You need to figure that out. She’s not some passing fling. I know she’s young. Believe me, I’m well aware. But I also know that she’s the reason I write. She’s the reason I have an album. Before I met her, all I did was mess around. On the guitar. With my songs. She’s given me direction, focus, the tools to turn the melodies that float around in my head into something worth listening to.”
Mom sucks in a breath, blinking hard, and takes a step back. “Jonathan, I—“
“No.” I slice a hand through the air, cutting her off. “No. I’m done. I’m done listening to you. I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say. Not even an apology, not that I’m naive enough to think that’s what you’re going to say right now. I’m too angry. I can’t believe you. You said you were going to try to get to know her. Not try to drive us apart. You’re my mother. You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side. I always have your best interests at heart.”
Crossing my arms, I look down my nose at her. “Not this time. Not with this. You might think you’re looking out for me, looking out for my career, but you’re wrong. You’re wrong about Gabby. You’re wrong about us.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down and lower the volume of my voice. “I’m done having this conversation now. In fact, I don’t think I want to talk to you for a while. You’ve gone too far. It’ll take time for me to figure out how to get past this.”
I turn around and head to my room to grab my keys and guitar, scanning for anything else I might need. Anger and worry slosh around in my chest. What if Gabby really is in the process of trying to leave? Would she do that? Without saying anything?
She might … if she really thought she were doing the right thing. But not without at least saying goodbye. I know she wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
I let out the breath I’ve been holding, letting a little bit of relief thread through the worry. She’s not gone yet. So that means I can still change her mind. Maybe she hasn’t even managed to change her tickets yet.
“Jonathan, please.” Mom’s followed me into my room.
Setting my jaw, I turn and shake my head, stepping around her and through the door, careful not to bump her with the guitar case. She calls my name again, but I don’t stop, don’t turn, don’t acknowledge her. I have no desire to hear what else she might have to say. My only focus now is on fixing whatever mess she’s created and convince Gabby that her leaving isn’t right for anyone, least of all me.