“Mom,” I sighed, bringing my hand up to massage my temple. I was a little hungover, my head was pounding from lack of sleep, and I was more than a little desperate to get back up to my bedroom. But naturally, Mom had no pity for me and had gone straight for my metaphorical balls when I’d gone downstairs to grab some coffee. “Can we talk about this later,please?”
I glanced toward the stairwell that led to my bedroom. Originally, that room had been used as an entertainment room, but I’d liked the fact that it was separate from all the other bedrooms. It had made sneaking Becky in the night before reallyeasy.
“No, we’re talking about it right now,” she insisted, pressing her hands down against the marble countertop and forcing me to pay attention toher.
“Fine,” I said, pressing the brew button on the coffee maker while I arched my brows at her. “I paid for your schooling to a program of your choice because you’re smart and you deserve to have acareer.”
“I have a career,” Mom sounded a little hurt, but she masked it well enough. Most people wouldn’t have even detected it, but my mom was one of my best friend’s, and I knew her. “I like my job, Travis. I like the people Imeet.”
Mom had worked as a waitress at a diner on the outskirts of town practically my whole life. She’d gotten pregnant with me when she was fifteen years old, knocked up by some guy that left town before she could even tell him about me. As a result, I grew up poor. Mom worked as hard as she could, but it was never enough. We often had to choose between paying rent and buying groceries. Shelter was important, especially during the cold Northern winters, so that camefirst.
But even though we struggled financially, my mom was an amazing mother. No matter how exhausted she was, she’d take time to play with me. She would throw a ball around in the backyard with me, and teach me how to cook using the limited ingredients in our cupboard. She taught me how to ride a bike and she was always singing, always dancing. Mom had a beautiful voice, and she passed that on tome.
When I was twelve, I vowed that one day, I’d change everything about her life. I’d take care of her so that she wouldn’t have to work so hard to barely getby.
And that’s exactly what I did. I worked my ass off so that one day, I could buy her a nice place to live in and make sure that she never went without anything everagain.
Some say I stumbled into fame, and maybe that’s true. When I was eighteen, I entered a talent show and scored a record deal, not from the producers of the show, but from a Nashville recording office that liked my voice and my songs and saw potential inme.
I worked my ass off every moment of my life to get where I was. Going from rags to riches made me feel invincible. The first thing I did after my first album went platinum was purchase the beautiful cottage on Lake Rosseau, where my mom lived year round. I came back for a couple months here and there, but I had mostly bought it forher.
At first, it wasn’t easy getting Mom to move from the prefabricated trailer I’d grown up in. She insisted that she didn’t want me to spend my money on her. I had to tell her that it was a great way for me to build up equity and that I couldn’t be there to manage the grounds when I was on tour ten months out of the year. I told her that I’d rather have someone I trusted living there than have to hire someone else to take care ofit.
Only then did she agree to move in, but she kept her waitressing job, and I wanted her to do something more. I knew she was capable of it, and I lived in constant fear that I’d end up losing everything about this life I’d built. Stars fall all the time, musical careers die off and people fade into the background like they were never there. I didn’t want her to go back to life the way it was before if that ever were to happen tome.
“Just think about it, okay?” I sighed, turning back to face her. I knew how much she loved waitressing. She was comfortable there, she knew the job and excelled at it. She was afraid to fail at something new, and that’s what this was all about. I knew she wouldn’t fail, I knew she’d do amazing because my mom was smart and quick. My mom was afighter.
But Mom lacked a formal education, and while she’d gotten her GED when I was in high school, she still felt like she wasn’t good or smart enough formore.
“I don’t want to think about it, I want you to get your money back and invest inyourfuture,” she said firmly, her green eyes focused on myface.
“Maybe you could take a business course, or restaurant management. But we really do need to talk about this later, okay?” I said as the coffee finished brewing, the scent of it filling the room. I glanced back toward the stairs, hoping that my house guest wasn’t trying to sneak out onme.
Mom looked down, noticing the two cups I’d set in front of the press. She caught me looking toward the stairs again. “I take it one of those isn’t for me?” she arched a brow, pursing herlips.
“No, a friend crashed here last night,” I admitted, trying not togrin.
“A friend that you’re fetching coffee for? Must be one of the female variety,” Mom called meout.
“Hey, now,” I argued, grabbing the coffee pot from the cradle. “I would fetch a coffee for Brock if he asked. Gordon though, he’d be on his own. He’s aprick.”
“Watch your mouth Travis Joseph Channing before I wash it out with soap,” Mom threatened, wagging her finger at me. Shehatedwhen I swore. It didn’t matter how bad the curse word was, she’d flip her lid every singletime.
“I think I’m a little old for that, Mom,” I chuckled. “But I’ll try to watch mytongue.”
“Is it her? On second thought, don’t answer that.” Shaking her head, Mom turned around and walked away, leaving me to it. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to the grocery store,” she said over her shoulder. She made a show of grabbing her purse and closing thedoor.
Chuckling, I poured the coffee and splashed some cream and sugar into one, leaving the other black. I made my way back to my bedroom and nudged the door open with my hip. I closed it as quietly as I could manage with my foot, then padded across the room to mybed.
Sunlight poured in through the windows. Her dark hair was spread out across my white pillow. Her thick lashes rested against her cheeks, and she breathed softly as she slept, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She was gorgeous, and nobody elsecompared.
I came to a stop at my side of my bed, setting both mugs of coffee down on the night table.My side of the bed, it was an odd thought for me, one that made me take pause and look back down at her naked, sleeping body. Before her, Ilikedplaying the field. The whole damnbedwas my side, and I liked dating super models and actresses. It felt good, powerful, even…but four years ago I realized how empty the whole thingwas.
She was beneath my skin, embedded in my heart. She couldn’t see it, though. She didn’t believe I was capable of being the relationship type. That much was obvious from her reaction over the Nashvillephotos.
She didn’t trust me to catch her when shefell.
But I would, and I’d spend every day provingit.
