Page 146 of Make Me Laugh

THE ONE WHERE SHE STAYS

Comment: So, do we think they’re gonna rip our hearts out this weekend and tell us it was all a silly lil joke?

Comment reply: Listen, don’t say that

Comment reply: I hope they know my sanity is hanging by a thread and that would be it for me

“Please don’t hate me,” Frankie pleads.

I stare at the vintage marquee above the theater.

West Parker.

The final show!

“I could never.” I sigh, staring in a daze.

Frankie’s newly formed band, still without a name, has the chance to play for a manager the bassist knows in New York City. She’s been traveling back and forth the last few weeks with Syn, writing a few new songs, and finding their overall sound.

From the few clips she’s shared, I think they’re onto something…

She’d arrived in Gatlinburg a few days earlier and had gotten the text two minutes ago that they all needed to be in New York by Friday morning at the latest.

“Wait, this flight has a layover in Charlotte! You could meet me there, and then just come with me for the weekend.” She sounds excited by the idea, but I’m so traveled out the thought alone overstimulates me. “Or! You can still go to the cabin for Thanksgiving! You know everyone would love to have you, even if I’m not there. I’ll probably be able to fly back Monday or Tuesday, the latest.”

“I think I should just go home, Frankie. I can spend Thanksgiving with Hilda. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the company.” I know she was looking forward to spending some time with me after being apart the last few months… and I was too, but there’s a piece of me that’s not ready to go. One that doesn’t want to say goodbye to West yet.

As usual, Frankie seems to read my mind. “You could stay with West for Thanksgiving, you know?”

Staying with West and his family for Thanksgiving? Absolutely not. That’s… That’s crossing some kind of line.

Tour’s over tomorrow, my contract’s up, and I have a new job in Boston to prepare for—one I didn’t ever think I’d find, let alone have it find me.

West’s career is about to blow up… It already has. He’s getting emails every single day about new brand deals, requests for big shows, and talent agencies foaming at the mouth to represent him.

I’ve started to ignore those same offers coming in for Hex.

We’re going to be too busy. Long distance is too hard. I’m bound to get hurt. These are only some of what the anxiety continues to tell me, although there’s this small, very quiet reminder that I don't want to live with knowing I never tried.

West isn’t like the others.

He’s not Dylan.

He’s not the father I never knew.

He’s not my mother.

But just because he’s not any of those people, doesn’t mean he can’t hurt me too.

“JoJo?” Frankie whispers softly, waiting for me to respond.

“Yeah?” The word comes out with a breath.

“You should stay with West for Thanksgiving.” She’s using her serious voice. It softens, wilting into a pretty melody like she’s preparing someone for bad news. “There’s a 5:00 a.m. flight Friday morning. You can use the weekend to settle in back at home…” Her words trail off, and I know she’s not done. “Or, I dunno, you know the girl watching after Grim’s taking good care of her if you want to stay longer too.”

I look back to the marquee at his name, burying my free hand in my puffy black coat’s pocket. “I can’t.”

But I could…