Page 81 of #Moonstruck

I decided to go to the grocery store after I saw my mom (so the multiple cartons of ice cream wouldn’t melt), and I drove over to Century Pacific. I texted Angie when I got to the parking lot, and she was waiting in the lobby, ready to pounce.

“Did you die? I would have died. I did die, and his song wasn’t even about me! Did you just completely melt?” She said this while hugging me hello.

“Yes, I died. And obviously I melted. You saw the kiss.” Everybody saw the kiss.

“And?”

And ... I wasn’t ready to tell her everything yet. I kind of wanted to tell my mom first, then I could share it with other people. It was something I’d always done growing up. I told her everything. She had been my best friend. I missed getting her advice.

When I was a senior, Kori Bryant had started spreading rumors about what I let guys do to me under the bleachers after her loser boyfriend smiled at me. I wanted my mom to make it better, to tell me how to deal with it. My poor brothers were at a loss because they couldn’t punch Kori in the face and make it all go away.

So Mom first, Angie second. “There’s not really much to say. He wrote an amazing song about me, which gave me all the feels, and I had to kiss him. I didn’t have a choice.”

Angie nodded. “The same thing happened to me the night Hector and I met.”

“He sang to you?”

“No,” she said with a laugh. “He was so scrumptious I just had to kiss him.”

That was the second or third time I’d heard her talk about Hector without getting choked up. I didn’t point it out to her, though. “I’m going to say hi to my mom and let you get back to work. Ryan made reservations for seven at La Isla Cubana, FYI.”

“I will see you there. I can’t believe I’m about to have dinner with Ryan De Luna!”

I wondered what she would say if I told her how many times I’d already kissed Ryan De Luna.

Thinking about him, the fact that we were now exclusive and he loved me (and that I probably loved him) made me happy. I hummed the tune to “Maisy” and let one of the orderlies introduce me to my mom again.

We chatted for a little while, and this time she asked me more questions about myself than normal. Like where I lived and whether or not my parents were still married.

“They were never married,” I told her. “My dad was hardly ever around. He took off permanently a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry. That sucks. My dad died when I was little, so it’s just me and my mom, too.”

My grandmother died when my mom was in her early twenties. It must have been nice for her to be living in a world where that hadn’t happened.

“Are you a musician?”

My mom’s question interrupted my train of thought. “Uh, yes. I am.”

“I heard you humming. The song sounded pretty.”

“My boyfriend wrote it for me. We just became official last night. He told me he loves me.”

Her eyes got big. “Did you say it back?”

“Not yet.”

“Oh. Well, that’s exciting.”

“It is. He’s a musician, too, and we’re actually touring together right now.” Realizing she’d have no idea who Ryan was, I added, “He’s newer but pretty popular. You’ve probably never heard of him. Ryan De Luna.”

“That name sounds familiar.” I tried not to laugh at my mother’s attempt to appear cool, like she was up on all the new artists. Although “new” meant something completely different to her than it did to me. “And you’re touring with him? Wow. You’re young and have already accomplished so much. Your mom must be really proud of you.”

My chest tightened, my throat thickened, and tears sprang to my eyes. “I hope so. Because I am really grateful to be her daughter.”

A nurse interrupted me, a concerned look on her face. “There’s someone here to see Cynthia. Maisy, I thought you should talk to them first.”

I told my mom goodbye, and my pulse pounded as I walked to the front desk. Had Ryan come early?