Jesse's Girl
Page 63
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“She’s fine—she’s watching Miracle on 34th Street. What’s wrong?”
I hear him let out a bunch of air. “I really thought they were going to come, and they didn’t.”
I slowly sit down on the concrete porch and rest my head against my knees. I just let him talk.
“Dad said they weren’t comfortable with coming to Vegas.” His voice catches, and he breathes hard again. “They said they wanted to come to my concert, but they called and said they couldn’t ’cause it was in Vegas and they didn’t understand why I’d agreed to sing in such a sinful town.”
“But, Jess, you’re touring all over the place. In nonsinful towns like Orlando. I mean, Disney is so not about sin.”
“That’s what you think,” he replies, laughing softly.
“Regardless of however you sinned in Disney World, which I don’t want to know about, your parents could have come to any of your other concerts, Jess.”
“Yeah.”
“They shouldn’t have abandoned you on Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah.”
“And I don’t think it’s fair that you’re willing to compromise and stop performing the music you love, and they can’t even meet you halfway.”
He goes quiet. Shit, did I overstep?
“I miss you, My,” he says softly.
Maybe I could get a plane ticket with the money I’ve saved; forget about the road trip to New York. “I can fly out. We could have Thanksgiving together tomorrow. Just tell me where you’ll be.”
“It’s okay. I’m heading to Chicago tomorrow, and my schedule there is too busy. But thanks—it means a lot.”
All I want is for him to feel happy. I would be heartbroken if my holiday was ruined. “I hope you got a real dinner. Turkey and dressing and the works.”
“Mark took me out for Tofurky.”
“Oh good God,” I mutter, which makes him laugh. “That’s a crime.”
“I knew you’d make me feel better, Maya Henry.”
I wrap an arm around my waist, trying to warm up. “Family’s not always blood. I have Dave, and you’ve got Mr. Logan.”
“But still.”
“I know,” I say quietly. I can’t imagine how complicated this is for him.
He pauses. “So how’re voice lessons with Holly going? She told me you’re getting better and better.”
Jesse and I chat for a long time, for so long it’s like he forgets about his jerkface parents. He’s cracking up on the other end of the line, asking me to put Casper on the phone so the cat can say if I’m not giving her enough attention or making her do lame-ass tricks.
When I get off the phone, tears well in my eyes. I can’t believe he made such an effort for his parents, and they didn’t show. My mom pokes her head out the screen door.
“It’s freezing out here, baby girl,” she says, rubbing her arms at the chill. I stand up, and she wraps me in a hug.
“I love you,” I tell her. It’s understood in our family, but we rarely say it out loud. Mom pulls back and stares.
“I love you too. What’s going on?” she asks, so I tell her about Jesse and his parents, and how I feel so bad for him.
After a few minutes of listening to me talk about Jesse, Mom takes a deep breath. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about New York… I’m sorry your dad and I can’t help more with your trip, but I asked my boss if I could have some time off to go with you and Sam. My boss said I could, and I’d like to come, as long as it’s okay with you.”
“Of course!” I say and give her another huge hug. I am so lucky. I used to think trust means “never let you down,” but really, it’s about love. Family can’t always help fix a difficult situation, and everybody makes mistakes. We shouldn’t expect perfect. But we can hope that the people we love love us enough to try to make it right.
Jesse’s parents haven’t tried to make things right. I wish he could see that. He can’t give up music for them. He just can’t. And when he gets home from tour, I will make sure he knows that.
On the Road Again
The order of business: drop Casper off at Dr. Salter’s house, obtain doughnuts and coffee from Donut Palace, hit the road, stop at a hotel in Virginia, and arrive in Hoboken by Sunday evening so we can get a good night’s sleep before tryouts start on Monday at 8:00 a.m. sharp.
The odds I’ll make it through the semifinals aren’t good—the show will narrow five hundred contestants down to thirty. Sometimes people get kicked off before they’ve even had a chance to sing ten seconds. I’m gonna give it my all though. I will prove to myself, if not others, that I have talent.
I hear him let out a bunch of air. “I really thought they were going to come, and they didn’t.”
I slowly sit down on the concrete porch and rest my head against my knees. I just let him talk.
“Dad said they weren’t comfortable with coming to Vegas.” His voice catches, and he breathes hard again. “They said they wanted to come to my concert, but they called and said they couldn’t ’cause it was in Vegas and they didn’t understand why I’d agreed to sing in such a sinful town.”
“But, Jess, you’re touring all over the place. In nonsinful towns like Orlando. I mean, Disney is so not about sin.”
“That’s what you think,” he replies, laughing softly.
“Regardless of however you sinned in Disney World, which I don’t want to know about, your parents could have come to any of your other concerts, Jess.”
“Yeah.”
“They shouldn’t have abandoned you on Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah.”
“And I don’t think it’s fair that you’re willing to compromise and stop performing the music you love, and they can’t even meet you halfway.”
He goes quiet. Shit, did I overstep?
“I miss you, My,” he says softly.
Maybe I could get a plane ticket with the money I’ve saved; forget about the road trip to New York. “I can fly out. We could have Thanksgiving together tomorrow. Just tell me where you’ll be.”
“It’s okay. I’m heading to Chicago tomorrow, and my schedule there is too busy. But thanks—it means a lot.”
All I want is for him to feel happy. I would be heartbroken if my holiday was ruined. “I hope you got a real dinner. Turkey and dressing and the works.”
“Mark took me out for Tofurky.”
“Oh good God,” I mutter, which makes him laugh. “That’s a crime.”
“I knew you’d make me feel better, Maya Henry.”
I wrap an arm around my waist, trying to warm up. “Family’s not always blood. I have Dave, and you’ve got Mr. Logan.”
“But still.”
“I know,” I say quietly. I can’t imagine how complicated this is for him.
He pauses. “So how’re voice lessons with Holly going? She told me you’re getting better and better.”
Jesse and I chat for a long time, for so long it’s like he forgets about his jerkface parents. He’s cracking up on the other end of the line, asking me to put Casper on the phone so the cat can say if I’m not giving her enough attention or making her do lame-ass tricks.
When I get off the phone, tears well in my eyes. I can’t believe he made such an effort for his parents, and they didn’t show. My mom pokes her head out the screen door.
“It’s freezing out here, baby girl,” she says, rubbing her arms at the chill. I stand up, and she wraps me in a hug.
“I love you,” I tell her. It’s understood in our family, but we rarely say it out loud. Mom pulls back and stares.
“I love you too. What’s going on?” she asks, so I tell her about Jesse and his parents, and how I feel so bad for him.
After a few minutes of listening to me talk about Jesse, Mom takes a deep breath. “Baby, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about New York… I’m sorry your dad and I can’t help more with your trip, but I asked my boss if I could have some time off to go with you and Sam. My boss said I could, and I’d like to come, as long as it’s okay with you.”
“Of course!” I say and give her another huge hug. I am so lucky. I used to think trust means “never let you down,” but really, it’s about love. Family can’t always help fix a difficult situation, and everybody makes mistakes. We shouldn’t expect perfect. But we can hope that the people we love love us enough to try to make it right.
Jesse’s parents haven’t tried to make things right. I wish he could see that. He can’t give up music for them. He just can’t. And when he gets home from tour, I will make sure he knows that.
On the Road Again
The order of business: drop Casper off at Dr. Salter’s house, obtain doughnuts and coffee from Donut Palace, hit the road, stop at a hotel in Virginia, and arrive in Hoboken by Sunday evening so we can get a good night’s sleep before tryouts start on Monday at 8:00 a.m. sharp.
The odds I’ll make it through the semifinals aren’t good—the show will narrow five hundred contestants down to thirty. Sometimes people get kicked off before they’ve even had a chance to sing ten seconds. I’m gonna give it my all though. I will prove to myself, if not others, that I have talent.
