Do it for the crowd, p.11

Do It for the Crowd, page 11

 

Do It for the Crowd
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  much to be done about it. She shoved the guilt down deep in her chest and

  headed for the table.

  “Hi,” she said as she slid into the chair opposite her mom.

  “Hi,” her mom repeated, her eyes skating up until they met Gabby’s.

  “I’m glad you could make it.”

  Gabby fought down the urge to apologize for being late, swallowed

  hard, and instead said, “Yeah. So, how are things with you?”

  Her mom blinked at the abrupt change of topic. For one painful

  moment, Gabby thought she might push the matter or refuse to answer, but

  then she lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Not bad. I’ve got a gig bagging

  groceries at the supermarket these days. It’s not anything glamorous, but it’s

  something to keep me busy.”

  They lapsed into awkward silence, and Gabby was grateful when she

  heard the barista call her name. She practically leaped out of her chair to go

  retrieve her drink, then took as long as was humanly possible to add the

  cream and sugar. When she had exhausted every excuse to delay returning

  to the table, she reluctantly picked up her cup and made her way back over.

  Her mom cleared her throat, her face twisted into an uncomfortable

  expression. “What about you? How are things going?”

  Gabby almost laughed out loud at the question. It was like a sad parody

  of what a mother-daughter relationship should be like, both of them stuck

  trying to cram fifteen years worth of life into a sterile two sentence

  summary. There was really no way that Gabby could even dream of

  answering the question honestly without opening multiple conversation

  topics she would just as soon avoid, so she settled for a vague response.

  “Things are fine. Busy, but that’s not a bad thing.”

  The silence returned with a vengeance. Gabby stared down at her coffee

  like it held all the secrets of the universe and wondered what the hell she’d

  been thinking to agree to this meeting. Why had she thought this was a

  good idea?

  “It really is good to see you.”

  Her mom’s voice jolted her, and Gabby looked up at her.

  “I, ah, wasn’t sure you were actually going to come here today.”

  “I almost didn’t,” Gabby replied honestly. She winced at the flash of

  surprised hurt that crossed her mom’s face and squelched the impulse to

  take her words back. It was the truth, and if they were ever going to move

  beyond awkward silences and stilted questions, they were going to need

  more than a little honesty.

  Her mom blew out a breath on a rueful laugh. “I guess I already knew

  that. Strange, you know. You’re my own daughter, but I feel like more of a

  stranger than anything”

  Gabby paused for a second to think about her response. She wasn’t

  going to argue the point; it was an accurate assessment, uncomfortable

  though it might be. But even though part of her reveled in the discomfort

  her mom was clearly experiencing, the larger part of her didn’t want any

  more unpleasantness than was necessary. If she genuinely wanted them to

  move past things or have any semblance of a relationship —even just a

  cordial acquaintanceship —then reminding her mom of how awful she had

  been at every opportunity was probably not the best idea.

  “It’s going to take time to get used to the idea of seeing you around

  again,” Gabby said. “I’ve lived the majority of my adult life without you,

  and you weren’t exactly super present when I left.” She saw her mom flinch

  at the reminder but kept talking anyway. “I can’t promise you that I’m

  going to be happy-go-lucky and thrilled to reconnect all the time, but I’m

  willing to give this a try if you want.”

  Her mom wiped at her eyes, which were suspiciously shiny, before

  looking back at Gabby. “I would like that. I don’t expect us to have some

  sort of picture-perfect relationship overnight, I know things were pretty bad

  when you were a kid.” Gabby held back a snort at how seamlessly eighteen

  years of pain and neglect could be condensed into a single sentence. “But I

  want to give things a try and do better by you this time around.”

  Gabby took a long sip of her drink to give herself time to think about

  what to say next. “Maybe we can start by meeting up every couple of

  weeks?” She didn’t want to relegate her mom to once a month meetings, but

  she also knew without any doubt that she absolutely did not want to have to

  see her mom on a weekly basis. Even the thought of it made her hackles

  rise, so she hoped that every couple of weeks would be enough of a

  compromise.

  Her mom looked like she wanted to protest, but closed her mouth and

  nodded after a second. “Sure. Whatever you think sounds best.”

  Gabby pulled out her phone. “What’s your number?” Her mom rattled it

  off and Gabby typed it into her contacts. She’d set up a Google voice

  number ahead of the meeting just in case she decided to give her mom her

  number. It would give her at least a little bit of a buffer in case things didn’t

  go well, and it would hopefully prevent any hassle from her mom having

  her actual direct cell phone number.

  Her phone buzzed with an incoming call just as she was putting it back

  down on the table. Her mom gave her a tight smile. “You can get that if you

  want to. Just text me and we can find time to meet up again.”

  Gabby nodded, trying not to look too eager at the out. “Thanks.” She

  hesitated. She couldn’t bring herself to say ‘I love you,’ and even ‘It was

  nice to see you’ rang false, but simply leaving without saying anything else

  also felt wrong. “I’ll see you later,” she awkwardly mumbled as she stood

  up from the table and stuck her phone in her pocket. Her mom gave her a

  little wave, half rising out of her seat in what looked like a move to hug

  Gabby before she thought better of it and sat back down. Gabby turned and

  headed out of the coffee shop, trying to keep her stride steady so that it

  wouldn’t look like she was fleeing.

  She didn’t relax until she was out of the parking lot. Her whole body

  collapsed back against the seat, a wave of exhaustion sweeping over her.

  The whole meeting had taken half an hour tops, but she felt like she’d just

  run a marathon. She pulled over so that she could check her phone to see

  who had called. Claire’s name blinked back at her, and Gabby said a silent

  thanks to whatever higher powers existed for saving her from an even

  longer conversation with her mom as she pressed the button to call Claire

  back.

  She didn’t know where things with her mom were ultimately going to

  end, but one thing was for sure: coming home was a lot more complicated

  than she’d imagined.

  Fourteen

  Gabby

  It was strange, how easily her entire world returned to revolving around

  Diana. Ever since she’d left Santa Fe she’d been trying her best to avoid

  thinking about her, but now it seemed as though she was everywhere.

  The one place where Diana’s presence faded somewhat was when

  Gabby was performing. Every Thursday and Saturday night, she climbed up

  onto the small circular stage at the Bluebird Theater and sang. She liked to

  play a mix of her own songs and covers, keeping things fresh for the

  audiences with every show. She knew there were people who came more

  than once, and she didn’t want them to get bored. She was many things, but

  boring was not one of them.

  It was soothing to be able to have some sort of outlet for her emotions.

  Music had always been an escape for her, a way of giving voice to the

  things that she would never otherwise be able to say out loud, and if she

  sang a few more love songs than usual…well, she doubted anyone else was

  the wiser.

  In her younger days, she might have stayed past the end of each show to

  socialize with fans and patrons in the nearby bars. Maybe it was because

  she was getting older, or maybe it was just because she knew there was only

  one person whose company she really wanted, but she found herself

  ducking out of the venue in short order when she was done singing most

  nights.

  Her hasty escapes worked well enough until one Thursday night when

  she ran into one of the staff at the venue —literally. She was looking down

  at her phone, sending off a quick text to Diana (and that was another new

  development that never ceased to warm her heart, that they could exchange

  casual texts now about how their days were going and what they were up

  to) and she walked straight into another person.

  “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, shoving her phone into her pocket. “I

  wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” the other person said. “I should have known better than to

  get in your way when you were trying to clear out from the building.”

  Gabby looked up and got her first look at the person she’d run into. It

  was another woman, taller than her by a few inches with bright teal hair that

  was plaited back from her face in a messy braid. Her eyebrow and lip

  sported several piercings, and she grinned when she noticed Gabby looking.

  “Holly Davis,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Gabby shook it and wondered how she’d missed seeing whoever this

  Holly person was backstage before.

  “Gabby Torres,” she replied, then laughed. “But I guess you probably

  already knew that if you’ve noticed my usual escape patterns. Do you work

  here?”

  Holly nodded. “Sure do. I run the stage lights for shows.”

  Oh. That explained why she hadn’t seen her before. The box that the

  stage light operator worked from was in a completely different part of the

  venue from where Gabby spent most of her time.

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you Holly, and I’m sorry again for running you

  over. I really should have been paying more attention.”

  “It’s fine, really.” Holly waved her off. “If I had to deal with the

  potential for screaming fans following me, I would be focused on getting

  out of here too.”

  She looked at Gabby for a second, her gaze considering, then said,

  “Want to grab a drink? There’s a bar not far from here that a bunch of us go

  to sometimes, and they’re pretty low-key. If anyone tries to bother you

  there, Bill will put a stop to it fast.”

  A polite No thank you was on the tip of Gabby’s tongue, but then she

  paused. It wasn’t like she was going to do anything other than sit on her

  couch alone if she went straight home. And Holly seemed nice enough; she

  was interesting, and neutral, and suddenly getting to do something that

  wasn’t steeped in memories of her past mistakes seemed like the best idea

  she’d had in a long time.

  “Sure, why not?”

  Holly grinned. “Didn’t think you had it in you. Come on, I’ll sneak you

  out the back.”

  * * *

  True to her word, the bar was relaxed and lit by dim yellow overhead lights.

  There was an interesting mix of people milling around, but none of them

  gave Gabby a second look. It put her at ease, and she followed Holly over

  to the bar.

  “What will you have?” Holly asked as she waved at the bartender.

  Gabby considered for a second. She still had to drive home afterwards,

  which meant nothing too strong, but one drink would be fine as long as she

  waited for a bit before leaving.

  “Moscow mule,” she said. It was stupid, but she’d always enjoyed the

  hammered copper mugs that the drink was delivered in. It was one of those

  things that was both pretty and also functional.

  If Holly was surprised by the order, she didn’t let on. “One Moscow

  mule and a long island,” she said to the bartender. He nodded and turned to

  begin making the drinks, leaving the two of them to their own devices.

  “So, stage lights?” Gabby said. It felt strange to be making casual

  conversation with a new person. So much of coming back to Santa Fe had

  revolved around her reconnecting with people she’d known over a decade

  before. To have someone sitting next to her who didn’t have any sort of

  preconceived notions about who she was based on the past was odd, but she

  thought she might not mind it.

  “You don’t really want to talk about work, do you?” Holly asked with a

  raised eyebrow. “I thought the whole point was escaping that.”

  Gabby shrugged. She honestly wasn’t sure what else to talk about. Most

  people had minimal interest in any conversation that didn’t revolve around

  something related to her job. Making normal conversation about hobbies

  wasn’t exactly something she did on a regular basis.

  “What, don’t tell me you’re secretly shy,” Holly said teasingly. Gabby

  chuckled and shook her head.

  “Not shy. Just socially awkward. It’s been a while since someone has

  wanted to just…I don’t know, get to know me, I guess.”

  “Well, in that case, let me get us started, and I’m sure it’ll come back to

  you in no time. Like riding a bicycle, or whatever metaphor you feel like

  using.”

  Gabby nodded and took a sip of her drink when the bartender slid it

  across the counter to her. Her fingertip traced over the dimpled metal of the

  cup before she refocused on what Holly was saying.

  “…grew up in Phoenix, moved here when I was 24, and managed to con

  the theater owner into hiring me on the spot.”

  “Why would you move here?” Gabby asked, her nose crinkling. She

  knew that it was an objectively nice town, but she still couldn’t quite

  comprehend why someone would intentionally choose it if they’d grown up

  somewhere else.

  “I like the open space,” Holly said. “I don’t like feeling boxed in, you

  know? Plus I love getting outside, and I don’t think I’ll ever run out of new

  places to discover here.”

  “Interesting choice of career for someone who doesn’t like being boxed

  in,” Gabby commented with a raised eyebrow. Running lights meant being

  boxed into a relatively small space for extended periods of time, which

  seemed like the exact opposite of wanting open space.

  Holly scoffed. “I’d think you of all people would know the difference

  between personal and professional interests. And besides, we’re not talking

  about work, remember?”

  “Fair point.”

  “Anyways, as I was saying,” she said, rolling her eyes, “Hiking,

  swimming, camping —anything that gets me outside, and I’m there.” She

  gave Gabby the same searching look that she had earlier. “You should come

  sometime, it would be fun.”

  “I don’t know —” Gabby enjoyed the beauty of the great outdoors as

  much as the next person, but she definitely didn’t have the same level of

  enthusiasm as Holly.

  “There aren’t any crazy fans in the wilderness,” Holly said with a sly

  smile, “Come on. What’s a single hike?”

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re just looking for an excuse to

  spend more time with me.” Gabby meant it as a deflection, but to her

  surprise, Holly just shrugged and winked at her.

  “So what if I am?”

  Gabby had several realizations simultaneously. First, that things had just

  gotten unexpectedly complicated. Second, that she needed to find a way to

  tell Holly that she wasn’t looking for that sort of thing. And third, that she

  was totally, head over heels lovesick over Diana. Because here she was, a

  gorgeous woman sitting in front of her who was clearly interested in her

  and actively flirting, and it didn’t even cause a single spark. If anything, it

  just made her miss Diana more.

  “I’m, uh, not really looking for anything like that right now,” Gabby

  said awkwardly. “Don’t get me wrong, you seem amazing, but —”

  “Who is she?”

  Gabby blinked, panic closing her throat before she realized that Holly

  didn’t seem upset. A little disappointed, maybe, but she was watching her

  with a knowing smile.

  “It’s complicated,” Gabby said. That seemed about as effective of a

  summary as she could give, and Holly sighed.

  “Complicated or not, whoever she is, she’s a lucky woman.” She

  swirled the ice around her drink before looking back up. “The offer still

  stands, though. I hear that friends can go on hikes with no romantic or

  sexual ulterior motives.”

  A friend. It would be nice to have another person in her life who wasn’t

  so enmeshed in all of the messiness. Besides, what was the worst that could

  happen? If they didn’t click or she stopped having fun, at least she would

  know that she’d tried. She didn’t want to put her entire life on hold waiting

 

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