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"Ha, good one." I shoot a pair of finger guns at his tease.
"I'll play with you guys on Sunday. But I can't join your band."
My hands fall by my side, and I don't believe I heard him right. "Are you kidding me, right?" Shock races through me, mixed with an influx of frustration and irritation. "After you had me pour my heart out, after all those lovely words we've just shared?"
The humor from a moment ago escapes his eyes. A wave of sadness mixed with something I can't recognize replaces it. "I have another commitment. I may stay in Seaside for quite some time."
His words clarify his decision. Emily has mentioned Laredo is involved with some drama involving a local woman. It's the reason he's been absent the last few nights. "Are you okay?"
The soft smile on his face answers my question. "Figuring out life, like the rest of us. I think we're all learning lessons this week."
He falls into silence for several beats. He's done sharing the details. "If you need anything…"
"I'm good. This rehearsal session today was what I needed. I'm assuming with the show, we'll be at it again tomorrow with the rest of the band."
"That's the plan. I'll text you the time once I see their flight schedules."
We share a last hug before Laredo heads down the street toward the town and not the beach. I don't know where he's headed, but at least he isn't running away from it.
I pull my phone from my rear pocket and swipe. I have two days to pull together the band and rock a performance that will light up this festival. At least Laredo is on board for the show. I can salvage this.
That sliver of hope is destroyed the second I turn back toward the studio. The familiar woman from earlier at the workshop is standing by the doorway. Eyes that look like mine staring at me as if I'm wearing wings.
There's no mistaking her this time. The Devil in the flesh.
What the hell is my mother doing in Oregon?
Chapter Thirty
Ariel
My mother looks as if she's aged thirty years since we've shared the same space. Guilt races through my veins as I realize it's only been fifteen. Threads of gray populate her formally dark curls. A messy bun held up by a black velvet scrunchie that screams ninety-nine-cent stores.
Her penetrating stare, which locked me in place for half my life, no longer holds the power it once did. I stride toward her and don't say a word.
A spark of life flickers in her dim, gray eyes as I approach. A light she shouldn't carry. A light I'll make sure to extinguish forever. Her lips quiver as I get close to within a foot of her, words on the tips of her tongue. And even if a big part of me is interested in what she has to say, the larger part still remembers the hurt.
I step around her and pull on the entrance door to the studio.
"So, nothing's changed." Her words hit me from behind, and I freeze. But pride won't allow me to turn.
"Why would they?" I give her an attitude. If she came to pick a fight, she has picked the wrong day. "You kicked me out. To fend for myself. I was seventeen."
"Young lady, face me when you talk to me." She says the line as if she expects me to comply. My days of following her orders are long gone. "Please." The broken plea causes my fingers to release the door handle. The only time I ever heard my mom use that word was when she asked my dad to leave after finding out he had cheated on her.
"I'm good like this." I give her my back.
"I see you still have some growing up to do."
I blow out a breath in disbelief.
"Why are you here?"
"I heard your song."
A chill races through me. "Which song? I have dozens."
"Your song. The one about me."
