Page 92 of This Side of Beautiful

Toward the end of yet another good show, when it was my turn to thank everyone and introduce myself, Janae asked for the houselights to come up.

“Before we leave the stage, on behalf of The Hollow Bones and me, I want to say a special thank you to the phenomenally talented Mrs. Analise Hayes. Spotlight. She’s over there.”

I searched the audience like most of the fans, looking for my mother.

“Landon’s beautiful mother is a Juilliard-trained classical pianist who taught her son everything she knows.”

The spotlight finally found my mother, who seemed misplaced in her silk shirt, slacks, and pearls around this jeans-and-shirts-and-tight-bodycon-dresses crowd. We locked gazes as she waved to the audience. Her face was puffy, and she dabbed her eyes with a white handkerchief. I clenched my jaw before smiling, almost forgetting that cameras and people watched us.

“Another round of applause. Without her, Landon wouldn’t be here. And I, for one, am forever thankful she had him.” Janae winked exaggeratedly, and the audience laughed. “We need to get out of here. New York, you owe us nothing.” She placed her mic on the stand, bowed, and left the stage. We continued to play another two minutes before we exited one by one. Me, Cedrick, Charles, Santiago, then Brian.

Although I took photos and celebrated our last night in New York with Janae and The Hollow Bones, my mind drifted to the woman who’d given me life sitting in the audience, finally proud of me. I’d been so sure she would disappoint me that I hadn’t bothered to look for her.

I rubbed the guitar pick in my pocket as I smiled through the gnawing in my stomach. What did it mean that she was here and appeared to have been crying during my performance? Should I care? For so many years, I’d wanted my mother to stand up to my father. I’d needed that more than her random check-in texts and calls. Wasn’t this what she’d just done by sitting in the audience… making sure her son was okay after his father fucked him up?

I exhaled and pulled my hand out of my pocket. She would have to do more than attend one of my shows to prove she loved me for me. I returned my attention to Janae and the fellas as we toasted to our continued success.

After another hour had passed, the activity behind the stage began to settle and quiet. Janae squeezed my bicep and whispered, “Your mother is in my dressing room. Please go see her for me.”

My stomach lurched, and I opened my mouth to refuse until I looked into her hopeful face. I pecked her lips. “Okay.”

“Frankie and Jeri already cleared out. I’ll wait for you in the car.”

The glam squad, our road crew, and the guys wanted to party on their last night in New York. Janae and I wanted to be alone.

I knocked on the door out of habit and then entered, holding my pick in my hand.

My mother seemed so small, wringing her hands in the middle of the small dressing room. “Thank you for seeing me. I didn’t know how to approach you, but Janae sent someone to bring me back here.” She tsked. “She’s something else, on that stage and off. She asked me not to hurt you anymore. I see why you fell in love.”

“She is, and I do love her.”

We stood across from each other, a mother and her only son uncertain how to act toward one another when there should be no question.

She glanced down for a second before she spoke. “I wanted you to be the first to know that I’ve asked your father for a divorce.”

“What?” I hadn’t expectedthatannouncement. She and my father were an institution. Unbreakable. Did the Earth just shift on its axis?

“You had an episode when you left the restaurant, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“I saw the signs, and I rose from my chair to follow you. Your father pulled me back down so I wouldn’t make a scene because he knew you would reject me. I played the dutiful wife one last time and packed when we got home. I’ve been in a hotel for the past two nights.”

“Ma, this isn’t the first time you left him,” I reminded her, and took a step closer.

“It’s the last.”

I searched her face and neck for any signs. “Did he hit you?”

She looked away. “No. I put up with him for too long. I left the drunk bastard so I can be myself. So I can love my son, and my son can love me again.”

Impressed with this side of her, I smiled. “Nice to meet you, Analise.”

She arched a sardonic brow. “Ma, Mama, or Mother to you.”

“Duly noted.” I shifted from one foot to another. “Why now?”

Her nostrils flared and her hazel eyes sparkled. “Because your father will never change, and you’ve grown into the man I always envisioned. Independent. Talented. A successful career and with a woman who’s thriving, too. I keep picturing your wedding and babies, and I’m not part of that. I want to get to know you as a man. I want us to be close. Not because I want to show you off or brag about your accomplishments, but because I carried you inside me for nine months.” She stepped closer. “You are my baby. Can we move forward?”

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