“Cass, what about I fly first thing tomorrow to Kansas City? You’d only need to stay a couple of extra days, see Will in Vegas, and—”

“—Stop right there, Joshua!” She raised her right hand like a stop sign. “What you’re trying to do is real nice and I appreciate it. But I’m flying tomorrow morning with you.”

“Come on, Cass,” I pleaded, “don’t throw this chance away. We’re a team now, you and me, let me take care of it for a couple of days and—”

“—Take care of it? It is a little five-year-old boy whose world has vanished in a puff of smoke.”

Cass shuffled on her feet, curling and un-curling her fists. She exhaled, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you.” Her gaze hardened though and her eyes pierced mine. “We always want the best for each other, Josh, but this isn’t about us. It should never have been about us. It should always have been about Lucas.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Was Cassie more important to me than my son?

“Cassie, I know how much you love singing—”

“—and I love Lucas much, much more. In fact, the two can’t even be compared. We’re flying to Kansas City tomorrow morning. I can be back on the tour before mid-week if they still want me.”

I lowered my forehead against hers. “Okay, Cass. Let’s fly together.”

I walked her back to the bar area. Shawn hadn’t moved but the girl had come back to hang at his side.

“What’s the plan?” he asked straight to Cassie.

“I’m sorry, Shawn, but I have to be in Missouri tomorrow.”

The guy nodded but his mouth twisted in disapproval. “Listen, I don’t know shit about kids and being a parent. What I know though is how hard it is to break through in this industry.”

Cassie let my hand go and stepped toward Shawn. “I know that but—“

“—Do you, Cassie?” He put his bottle on the table. “Because you sure don’t act like it. You’ve been lucky to get on a tour without having to beg for it. Now you might get to record a song of yours with a top label and you decide not to show up?”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“We always have a choice, babe. Look, that whole ‘one chance in a lifetime’ thing probably seems a bit naïve, except this guy, Will?, he doesn’t give a second chance. I don’t like that about him, but his record speaks for himself. Don’t think for a minute that making it in the music industry doesn’t come at a cost.”

I was about to step in but Cassie’s chin lifted. I had to let her fight her own battles. “Giving up on my son when he needs me isn’t a price I’m ready to pay.”

Shawn nodded again but his gaze softened. “Then you made your choice.” He wrapped his arm around the girl’s shoulders and dragged her away from where we stood. “I’ll try and cover for you in front of Terry and Will. But get your ass back on the tour ASAP. In music, it’s not like in love, you don’t often get sweet seconds.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as he was out of earshot, I asked, “You still want to go, Cass?”

“Nothing will make me change my mind.”

Cassie

I hadn’t been allowed to see Lucas.

We made it to Kansas City mid-afternoon on Sunday. In the end, there hadn’t been any seats left on the early morning flight. When we landed in Missouri, I called Trisha again. She called Sharon Sorenson.

Sharon told her Josh and I would have to wait until Monday afternoon to see our son, after he finished kindergarten. Trisha blurted the word ‘routine’ five times on that damn call.

I wasn’t totally delusional. I knew I didn’t know much—or anything—about raising a child. Yet. But what I did know was that my boy wasn’t too young or too dumb to know that his grandfather was gone for good. What I also knew was that he needed a friend to talk it through with. And I was pretty much the only one left from his previous life.

“Be nice to Mrs. Sorenson,” Josh warned me again.

He was right to say so. I’d used a lot of words to describe her over the past twenty-four hours. None fit my new proper-speaking code. I mumbled back an ‘of course’ and crossed my arms over my chest.

But I’d get my son back one way or another. Sooner rather than later.

Sharon Sorenson opened the door. Josh went all P.R. on her and she mellowed. There was even the shadow of a smile when she let us in.

“He’s in the kitchen.”

Not on his own though. I recognized the neighbor, Andrea Loretti. She was pouring batter into a muffin pan. Holy Moly, did this woman ever do anything else but bake muffins?

Lucas’s mouth was twisted the way it always did when he concentrated, the tip of his tongue sticking out slightly from the corner. I guess Mrs. Loretti was keeping him busy. That was good.

“Hi, Lucas,” Josh broke the ritual.

Both Mrs. Loretti and Lucas jumped at his greeting. My gaze turned to Lucas to see if there were any signs of grief on his face. His cheeks were as round and pink as usual. He gave no sign of being upset until his mouth shaped into a silent ‘oh’ and his chin start to quiver.

“Cassie,” he cried out, but his voice broke.

Lucas jumped down from the seat he’d been standing on. He rushed between the table and Mrs. Loretti and crashed into me. I missed a breath—and then another—not because of the shock of his little body pounding against me. His pain had become my pain. I was a kid all over again. A kid whose mom had gone AWOL. A kid who’d never been on the receiving end of anything but neglect and abuse.

I knelt down and locked him in my arms. His little arms were wrapped around my neck. Their hold on me tightened as if I was a lifejacket floating on the waves and he was drowning.

“Trisha said you’d come, but I wasn’t sure.” His voice trembled and his breath tickled my skin. His words had only been for me. Knowing that, my love for him took root even deeper down inside my heart.

Something shifted within me. I became Lucas’ mom. Not the one who’d carried him in her belly, or the one who’d given birth to him one June day five years ago. Not even the one who’d watched him grow up from afar. I became—I was—his mother, the one person who had the power to chase the clouds away and bring the blue sky back into his life.

My hands cupped the sides of his head so that I could look him in the eyes. “I’m here, Lucas. We’re going to get through this. I promise you.”

He shook his head. “But Grandpa’s dead.”

“I kn—”

“What did we say, sweetie pie?” The term of endearment clashed with Sorenson’s arctic voice.

Lucas snuggled back against me. I stood but kept him wrapped around me, his head pressed against my stomach.

“What did we say?” Lucas didn’t answer, so Mrs. Sorenson got on with her sermon, “If we don’t say the D-word, it’ll help feeling better.”

What sort of BS was this?

“But Grandpa is dead,” Lucas shouted back. “He’s dead like Mommy and Daddy.”

He buried his face against me, tension pulsing through him. I massaged his shoulders, stroked the back of his head, repeating little shushing sounds. His arms circled my waist with a strength beyond that I’d expected from a five-year-old.

I was grateful Mrs. Sorenson kept her mouth shut. It was safer that way. Andrea Loretti stared at Lucas while she kept kneading the material of her apron. If only one of her muffins could make it all better.

“I think you’re angry,” Josh sliced into the heavy silence. He turned around one of the kitchen chairs and sat astride it, his eyes level with Lucas. “You’re sad, of course, but you’re angry because you feel like someone has stolen your grandpa away from you.” Lucas’s head nodded against me. “Do you know what I do when I feel like I want to scream in anger? I play football.”

Lucas moved away from me. He wasn’t saying anything though, so Josh continued: “Do you still have the ball Cassie gave you, the Rangers one?”