Page 105 of Betting on the Boy Next Door
“But I want a plan,” I say, my voice verging on a whine.
He chuckles again. “Trust your gut. And your grandma’s. From what I heard on this side of that call, you’ve both got good instincts. Especially since yours led you to take a chance on that grandson of mine.”
My jaw drops. “Grampa Jim, are you telling me to drop out of nursing to be a full-time musician?”
His smile crinkles his eyes. “I looked you up on Soundrack.” Then holds up his hand, pinky and index finger extended. “Rock on.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sami
Joshiswaitingforme when I drive home Wednesday night. Grampa Jim had asked if he could be my audience while I worked out some more music, so instead of packing up to go home early, I stayed and played for him, working out lyrics while he made me a turkey sandwich for lunch.
I leave him with a hug in the late afternoon so I’ll be on familiar highways by dark. I text everyone who will send out a posse for me if I don’t make it home today that I’m on the road and will be home by dinnertime.
The whole drive home, I think about Jim Brower’s advice.Show up for him the way he’s shown up for you.
I can’t sit in on Josh’s board meetings. I can’t coo over his paperwork. I do know what he needs, maybe because I need it too: our parents’ faith in us. Their belief that we can succeed, and the knowledge that if we fail, they’ll be there to bandage us up and send us out to try again.
I would love for my mom to be on board with the possibility of a career change for me, but Josh? Josh needs to know his parents have any faith in him at all.
When I pull into my spot at the Grove two hours and no answers later, Josh charges out of his kitchen like he’s been watching for me and throws me over his shoulder as soon as I step out of the car.
“Josh,” I half shriek, half laugh. Mrs. Lipsky emerges from the breezeway just then, her mail in her hand.
“That’s the way, son,” she says. “Too much political correctness these days. Sometimes you just gotta handle your woman.”
“I’m too sexy for my shirt,” Ahab announces as Mrs. Lipsky heads back to her patio.
“Put me down, Josh,” I say, pounding on his back.
He ignores me and barrels through my back gate and into my condo. “Fists of fury is here,” he calls. “I got her.” He doesn’t set me down until he reaches the living room, where he deposits me between Ava and Madi.
Madi pokes my arm. “Not an icicle.”
Ruby comes out of her room and yells, “Cuddle puddle.” In seconds, we’re a wiggly mass of limbs, and when they finally let me up for air, Josh is standing there, arms across his chest, grinning.
“I’m fine, y’all,” I say, blowing an errant lock of hair out of my face. “Still have all my fingers and toes. Now let me up.”
“No way.” Josh swoops down and picks me up again. “Cuddle puddle.” And he collapses onto the free cushion of the sofa to wrap me in a huge hug while my roommates cheer.
Theweekendisinsanelybusy. I work Thursday and Friday all day, then come home long enough to change before heading out for Pixie Luna shows. It’s much nicer to get ready at home, no more smuggling my secret identity outfits like I’m onMission: Impossible.
Saturday morning, I’m so wiped that Josh tucks me into my downstairs sofa and we do cartoons and cereal again, this time with Ruby and Ava before NilesQuil shows up and drives Ava to leave with mumbled excuses about checking on things at the lab.
Once Niles and Ruby leave, Josh shakes his head as the door clicks closed. “That dudekillsme. If I find Ruby a guy who likes to hike but doesn’t do it with the hiking stick lodged up his—”
“Josh.” I shake my head. “We’ve all tried.”
“Why?” he says, totally confused. “She has to know she can do better.”
“We all have theories,” I say. “Mine is that she’s looking for someone with the complete opposite energy of her brothers, but none of us really knows. She insists she loves him.”
We both make scrunch faces at the same time and laugh.
Josh heads back to his place at noon to work until he comes out for our show. I spend the afternoon working on music, another new song, this one about risk and reward.
Having a full day of rest leaves me almost jittery with unspilled energy by the time we hit the stage, and even Rodney grins when I open the first song with a howl. We go hard through the entire set, sweat stinging my eyes and dripping off Luther and Rodney, the crowd pulsing hard enough for us to hear the thump of their feet on the wooden floor above our amps turned up to eleven.
