“I’m fine, thanks. How are you guys?”
“Oh, same old. The Burnsides put up a new shed next door—it’s taller than the by-law allows, so your father’s down at city hall trying to fight it.” She sighed. “Some people.”
“Well, Mom, I’ve got some news—”
“Is everything okay?” Her voicetightened with concern.
“Better than okay,” he said. “Tyler and I are moving to Winnipeg.”
Silence.
Then a choked sob. “That’s the best news I’ve ever heard,” she whispered.
Cary smiled. He’d made the right call. Tyler was happy. His mom was over the moon. His dad would be pleased too, though he’d never admit it—stiff upper lip and all that.
CHAPTER 45
TYLER
Over the next three weeks, Tyler, Allie, and Kim worked tirelessly to launch their new company. With Bob Shaw’s guidance, they filed KAT Management’s articles of incorporation with the province of Manitoba. Each took on roles that played to their strengths—Tyler oversaw daily operations, Allie managed live performances, and Kim handled tour logistics for Yestown. With Cary’s tour winding down in two months, Kim looked forward to reuniting with her team in Winnipeg and moving in with her boyfriend—ready for a fresh start and a brand-new chapter.
They also signed Yestown to a major deal with Warner Records Canada. The label’s president was a woman. It only made sense.
And Tyler finally earned a commission.
Cary was knee-deep in curating photos for his WAG exhibit. He told Tyler he barely recognized himself in some of the old shots, but she called bullshit—he hadn’t aged a day. Maybe when they moved in together, she’d find a portrait in the attic like Dorian Gray’s.
As if that wasn’t enough, they were trying to have a baby again. Little pangs of uncertainty surfaced now and then, but she pushed them aside. Cary had once been her fantasy, but now he was her reality. And the fact that he’d bought their Winnipeg place—despite it being bigger and pricier than necessary—only proved how serious he was.
After packing most of her apartment, Tyler assembled a wardrobe box in the middle of her bedroom. She and Cary had been staying at his penthouse lately—her place was crammed with boxes and, frankly, much shittier.
“Let me help with that,” Cary offered, grabbing one end of the cardboard.
“I’ve got it.” She waved him off.
“What can I pack?” he asked, rubbing his hands together. “I’m good at packing.”
She smirked. “You know packing a suitcase doesn’t count, right?” She folded the box according to the printed instructions. “How many times have you actually moved?”
He rubbed his chin, thinking.
“Exactly,” she said. “I’ve moved six times since I got here.”
“Just let me hire movers.”
She shook her head. “If you want something done right, you do it yourself. Besides, Vegas is coming later to help with the heavy stuff.”
“Can’t you just leave the furniture?”
“Some of it’s going to the new office. The rest I’m donating.” She folded the cardboard flaps down and secured the metal bar across the top.
“I don’t like you driving alone.”
She glanced at her dog. “Ror-Ror’s coming with me, aren’t you, buddy?” His tail wagged slightly. “When I moved out here, it only took two days.”
Cary sighed. “I wish I could help. But that show tomorrow—”
“I’ll see you in Winnipeg. Don’t worry about it.”
