“The point is, you wanted to help Maggie before you two were even really a couple, right?”
“Well … okay. Kind of. I also wanted her to help me. My reputation was in the toilet. If anything, she helped me more than I helped her.”
“Right. So this is like that, but reversed. She’s the one who needs help. The difference is, she’s not asking for it. I’m just offering. Wouldn’t you do the same in my shoes?”
He’s quiet for a long moment, then he sighs again. “Yeah. Yeah, man. I probably would.”
“Okay. So I’m not crazy.”
“That, or we both are.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Hailey
When my momsends me a Zoom link for our meeting to go over the contract she and Dad have drawn up for them to help me out, I realize I have to call.
Some part of me hoped to just slip away without revealing my plans. And of course, I don’t have to tell themeverything. I’m definitely not telling them that Jason offered to marry me.
Sighing, I call my mom. She doesn’t answer. Of course not. “Hey, Mom. Just calling to let you know I won’t be able to make the Zoom meeting. I’ve figured out another way to handle my situation, so you and Dad won’t need to bail me out after all.”
Then I hang up. If she calls back with questions, then sure, I’ll tell her that I’m moving to Seattle with Jason Chalmers. But if not? It’s not like they’ve taken much interest in my life before this. Why should they start now? Especially if all they want is total control of my life.
Wrapping up everything else is pretty easy. Whitney was fine with the less-than-thirty-days’ notice. I didn’t mention that Jason offered to pay for September as well. I was keeping thatin my back pocket in case she insisted. But when I said I was moving out at the end of August, she just shrugged and said, “Okay. Make sure you leave your room clean. Let me know if you need any help with boxes. I can get some from work.”
“Oh, wow. Okay. Thanks. I’ll let you know.”
She just smiled vaguely and went back to her phone.
And now I’ve finished my last gig that I was staying for, which gives me a few hundred dollars of my own money that Jason didn’t give me, at least. I’ve spent the last couple of weeks researching venues, event planners, and busking laws in Seattle so I can hit the ground running when I get there. Even if Jason is willing to support me, I’ll feel better making my own money.
I’ve also found a couple of studios that offer private lessons. I emailed a few of them this week with my resume, but I haven’t heard back from anyone yet. Fingers crossed I hear something soon.
This deal with Jason is only supposed to be temporary, after all. I need to build a studio of students, start filling my gig schedule, and practice my ass off to land a job with one of the orchestras there. A couple of smaller regional orchestras are holding auditions shortly after I get there in September, and there’s an open sub audition in Seattle in a few months too.
I’ve already started working on the repertoire. And just today, I emailed someone about being an audition coach for me—after checking that Jason would cover it, of course. He, also of course, said no problem and acted like I was silly for asking.
Which, like, of course I’m not just going to do it without asking??? What kind of insane person does he think I am?
“One insane enough to move in with him after bumping into him again a few weeks ago after not seeing him for over ten years,” I mutter to myself as I finish wiping down the walls and baseboards in my bedroom. I already did a deep clean of the bathroom I use, and the only thing left in there is my toiletriescase with what I’ll need in the morning before my flight. My suitcase and violin are sitting at the foot of my bed, the suitcase open and waiting for the last few things. Everything that I wanted to keep that didn’t fit there, I boxed up and shipped last week. It was only a few boxes all together—some books, sheet music, the few framed prints I’ve collected, and a couple of other keepsakes, including Hunter’s letterman jacket I swiped and hid after Mom boxed up Hunter’s things. I told Whitney she could keep the bedding for the next person she rents the room to. She said she’d pay me for it when she returns my deposit after I leave. Which she should return in full since I’ve left this room spotless.
“Hey, Whitney,” I call once I’ve put away the cleaning supplies I just finished with. “Would it be okay to do the walk-through of the room and bathroom now? I know I’ll still be sleeping in it tonight, but I’ll basically only be touching the bed, so …”
She chuckles lightly, pausing her show—which is mid-fight between two of the Housewives, with one of them frozen with her mouth open as she screams at the other—and stands. “Of course we can do it now. You don’t think I want to get up early enough to do it before you leave, do you?”
He got me an early flight—at my request. Even though the early flight is way too early to be pleasant, I decided I wanted to just get up and get it over with. The other option was late afternoon, which would mean kicking around here just waiting to leave. I’m anxious enough about this—even though I’ve talked to Jason on the phone and over text lots since he left, and every time he’s assured me that he’s excited to have me come stay with him—that sitting around twiddling my thumbs will make me crazy.
So, six-thirty flight it is.
“I didn’t really think so, no,” I tell Whitney.
She stops in front of my door and looks at me. “Aw, Hailey. I’m gonna miss you. You’ve been a good housemate, and even though you weren’t always as on time with your rent as I’d like, you were a good renter too. Respectful, not too noisy. Half the time I barely knew you were here! Do you have any friends like you looking for a room to rent?”
“Ha. No. Sorry. Thank you, though. And I’m sorry about sometimes being a few days late with rent. Last-minute cancellations and unpredictable delivery?—”
She cuts off my apology with a wave of her hand. “Oh, I know. You were always up front about what was happening and what you were doing about it, which is why I never got upset. I knew you’d pull through. I am sorry about your car, though. I know that was a real blow. But I’m glad you’re managing to land on your feet, even if that means you have to leave.” She pokes out her lower lip in a faux pout, and I’m not even sure how to respond to that.
“Oh, uh … it’s been nice living with you too.” That seems to do the trick because she just beams at me and heads into the room, phone in hand. She looks around, checks a few surfaces, looks at her phone, peeks at the corners, then checks her phone again. “Perfect. This looks great. It’s even cleaner than when you moved in. I took pictures the day you moved in, right before you got here, so I could easily compare. I’ll do the same in the bathroom, but I’m sure it’s fine too.” She goes across the hall, takes about thirty seconds to look around, then faces me in the doorway. “Like I said—it’s great. I was a little apprehensive about renting out the room at first, but having the extra money was helpful, so I decided to do it. I couldn’t have asked for a better renter.” She pokes out her lower lip again. “And now I’m going to have to look for someone all over again. Are you sure you don’t know anyone looking for a room?”
