Rich Groom (The Dirty Thirty Pledge 1)

My stomach sinks a little bit. “Yeah, they do. But I’m back for a visit now. You know I couldn’t come home without seeing you.”

Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you sit down?” she says softly. I do, and it feels like a natural homecoming.

“You’re here for the festival, right?”

I nod. “But I’m gonna stay for a bit afterwards, at least till my birthday.” That was already the plan, but with this mess with Glenn, I need to stay to make sure I’m not raked over the coals by that stupid fucking contract.

“Well you can always stay here, you know,” my mom says.

I hate the hopefulness in her voice. I would love to stay here and make her happy, but with my grandma living here, they’re already tripping over themselves. It’s never been a big house, and medical equipment takes up a lot of space. I’ve offered to buy them a bigger house a bunch of times, but they’ve always refused. They love it here, and there’s too many memories for them to abandon it for the sake of space. So I made sure that the house was fully paid off and that all of my grandmother’s medical bills are always taken care of.

It mitigates some of the guilt from not seeing them often enough, and the amount of money that I’m spending on them doesn’t even make a dent. We don’t talk about it though. My parents don’t like the idea of needing charity, but I know it makes them worry less. I’ll make sure that they’re taken care of for as long as I live.

“I think you’ll be more comfortable without me crowding you,” I say. “But I haven’t seen you guys in a while. That’s part of the reason I’m staying.” I’m at least rewarded with a smile at that. My parents are great parents, and they did a lot for me.

My grandmother reaches out and pats me on the arm. “Frankie,” she says, “is Annabelle going to come over for Thanksgiving this year? It feels like forever since I’ve seen her last.”

I freeze for a second, wondering if my grandmother is a psychic and knows that we’re back together. Kind of. Seeing each other. Either way there’s no way for me to know that. “No, Grandma,” I say softly, “I don’t think so.”

My dad clears his throat. “Annabelle and Frankie don’t date anymore, Mom.”

“And why not? What happened?”

There are words at my lips that I wish that I could say. That I took her for granted. That I made plans to be promiscuous without thinking about our future. I made her think I was cheating on her with those plans, even though I never would. I let myself be an utter moron by not telling her how much I cared about her. I dismissed her feelings and made her feel like she was nothing compared to an idiotic goal that has now bitten me in the ass twice. That even though I’ve spent our time apart trying to make something of myself that Anna would be proud of, it might never be enough. But none of those things are going to erase the pain and sadness in my grandmother’s eyes. No one was rooting for us more than she was. I wish I could tell her that it was all going to work out, but first I have to make sure that it actually works out. “Life happened, Grandma. We both moved on.”

That is very much not true, but it’s the only thing that I can say. I look at my parents, and I can see that they’re curious too. I never really told them what happened with Annabelle because I didn’t want them to know that their son was a total ass. But thankfully, my dad clears his throat and changes the subject, asking me about work. That’s something I’ll gladly talk about.

And we ease into that conversation like the previous awkwardness never even happened. It would feel nice and normal if it weren’t for my brain spinning on the past once again. And to our possible future. It’s something that I pretended was never going to be possible, and now the hope is growing in my chest so fast that I’m afraid it’s going to crush me. Shit. But I do my best to put those emotions aside and focus on the present. It feels nice, and too short. Soon enough I have to leave to go see Glenn and try to get all this straightened out, and I’m hugging my mother goodbye at the door.

The last thing that I want to be doing on this Sunday morning is going to see Glenn, but it has to be done. Thankfully, Anna’s music is keeping me company. I uploaded the music to my phone, and her voice is soothing me as I drive toward First Shot. I passed on the music to the label as well. I think that they’re going to love her. She’s got the perfect blend of pop and country that can be a powerhouse of popularity. It’ll be perfect for us, I’m sure of it. I need some approvals, but I’m certain it will go through.