“This is old. I was like…” She looks at the date on the back. “Ten years old when you got it. What do these guys even sing?” But she hurries and shakes her head because she already regrets asking.
“Oh, I’ll show you what they sing.”
“I don’t want to know,” she says, “I already changed my mind.”
“Too late,” I say, flicking past the songs in my playlist until I get to one of the all-time best songs that has ever happened. I’m quick to connect it to the big speaker as the songVindicatedkicks up with its rocking beat. “You better say you know this one,” I warn, lifting one arm and banging my head to the beat.
Maggie rolls her eyes. “Sorry, but I don’t…oh, wait,” she says as it nears the chorus. “Ooh, this one’s good for you right now. Turn it up.” She starts jumping in place to the beat like she’s in a mosh pit. We sing it loud and proud. And when the lead singer belts about that sweet vindication, I scream it right along with him.
We sigh and laugh when the song is through.
“Okay,” Maggie says, her cheeks pink from exertion. “You were right. That one’s a classic.”
“Yeah,” I say. “In fact…” I stride to where the concert tee rests on the top of the clothes pile and snatch it from the pack. I tear off my current tee and shrug into that one instead, smiling in satisfaction as Maggie chuckles under her breath.
She walks over to me. “Here,” she says, motioning for me to lean down. “Your bandanna got twisted.” She fixes it, steps back, and sighs. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
I laugh and wave a dismissive hand.
“No, I’m serious,” she says. “There’s something new about you. You’ve like, shed all those layers you were hauling around, trying to be someone you weren’t. Probably for Greg.”
I nod. Maggie’s insightful, and I feel in my heart that she’s right.
“It’s like, he trapped you in this cocoon when he stopped noticing you. When he gave all his love and attention to another woman. But now that you’ve managed to break free from that, you’re a bold and beautiful butterfly. Strong, confident, and ready to fly.”
The words melt through me like an inner hug. Tears sting my eyes. She’s right, I think. Even if I’m still a work in progress, I’ll make sure those wonderful words hold true.
At last, I sniff, stretch out my arms, and flap my hands. “Huggy, please. Now.”
She laughs and steps in, letting me toss my arms around her and pull her in for a big hug. She hugs me back and sighs.
“Thank you,” I say. “I can’t tell you how much that means.” I kiss her cheek only to hug her tightly once again. “Youare beautiful,” I add, “you know that? And talented and ambitious and creative.” I pull back to look at her face. “The rebuilt train cars…” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Genius!”
Her grin widens, and she squeals. “Yeah?”
I nod hugely. “Yeah. What’s going on there tonight?”
“Fifties night. Not singles in their fifties,” she amends, “but it’s a group of senior citizens who wanted a throwback to the fifties. I did the same thing I did for your generation, replacing the albums and articles, and I was dying when I looked at the prices back then.” She whistles and shakes her head.
“I bet,” I say.
Just then, my phone rings. The unique ringtone tells me that it’s Jack calling. He’s spending the night at Parker’s, and I can’t help but wonder if Beau is home too. Or is he going out for the night and letting Parker and Jack babysit Paige?
“Hi,” I say.
“Hey, Mom,” Jack says, voice exuberant like he’s having a great time.
“Jackman,” Maggie blurts.
“Oh, hey, Mags! You hanging out with my mom tonight?”
“I was, but I’m about to head out. I’ve got a date with a James Dean lookalike.”
“Awesome,” Jack says. “He better be nice.”
