pushed into the small backstage and hugged her.
“I’m soaking wet,” Carolina complained. But she hugged Ella right back.
“Stars don’t sweat, they glow.” Ella pulled away, grinning. “Now, say thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“I pretended to straighten sheet music so I could eavesdrop on Doofus and the record producers. They loved your voice. Loved you.”
“Don’t call Gar a doofus.” Carolina bit her lip to contain her grin and sneaked a peek at the audience through the wings. “They really loved it?”
“Oh, honey, yes. And Gar is a doofus.” Ella pulled a water bottle from her bag. “He’s lucky to have you as his talent.”
“He did get the producers here tonight.” Carolina headed to the closet that served as her dressing room. Or maybe it was a dressing room that doubled as a closet. “I was nervous. Thanks for covering when I missed my cue.”
“No problem.” Ella settled on a barstool tucked back with the buckets and mops. “You have to take me with you when you rocket to the top of the charts.”
“If I have anything to say, we’ll do this together.” She’d never worked with a pianist as talented as Ella. When Carolina first moved to Nashville, they’d found each other through a roommate ad. Now Ella was her best friend.
While Carolina wiped off her makeup, she turned on her phone. Three missed calls. All from Mamá. Shoot. After rehearsing this afternoon, she hadn’t turned her phone back on.
Now what? Her mother had returned from a cruise a few days ago, but they’d talked since then.
She checked the time. It was close to midnight. Back home in Tybee it would be one in the morning. She opened her voice mail, but saw no new messages. She sighed.
“What’s wrong?” Ella asked.
“I’m not sure.” She checked whether her mother had left a text, but Mamá never did. She preferred conversations. “I need to call my mother.”
She waited as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times.
“Carolina!” Mamá wailed. “Thank God.”
The water in her stomach churned. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s back,” her mother sobbed. “It’s back.”
Carolina swallowed. No. “What’s back?”
But she knew. Her fingers squeezed the phone.
“The cancer. The maldito cancer.”
Mamá’s sobbing gulps had tears filling Carolina’s eyes. She bit her lip. No. No. No. “What happened?”
Ella’s fingers pressed into Carolina’s shoulder. She leaned into her friend’s strength.
“Dr. Laster says I’m dying. The cancer is killing me.”
“Breast cancer? Again?”
“In my head,” her mother wailed. “The tumors are in my head.”
Her mother’s breast cancer had metastasized.
Carolina’s joy slid away. She whispered, “Mamá.”
“I need you,” she whimpered. “Come home. I don’t have much time left. I need my baby with me.”
“Of course. Yes.” Her mind whirled. “I’ll... I’ll come home.”
She wanted to ask more questions about the diagnosis, but couldn’t force words past the lump in her throat. She choked out, “I’ll get home as soon as I can.”
“Hurry.”
Ella handed her a tissue. At Carolina’s confused look, Ella blotted Carolina’s wet face.
“I’ll... I’ll...leave tomorrow.” There was so much to do. “Get some sleep, Mamá.”
“How can I? I have no one. If only your father...”
“Mamá, think positive.” She couldn’t let her mother dwell on the past or on the wrongs Rosa Castillo felt the world had dealt to her. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”
After teary goodbyes, she dropped her phone on the makeup table. There was so much to do, but her heavy body wouldn’t move.
“I’m sorry.” Ella hugged her. “I’ll...help you pack, do whatever needs doing.”
“Thanks.”
“Great show.” Gar pushed into the tiny room.
“You need to knock,” Ella snapped. “What if we’d been changing?”
“Who cares?” Gar waved Ella’s anger aside. “Why the hell are you crying? Someone die?”
Ella gasped. “Carolina’s mother is sick.”
“She’s always sick.” Gar’s diamond ring flashed as he waved his hand. “We’ve got a meeting with the execs who were here tonight. They loved you. I need both of you. They want to hear a different set.”
“They’re interested in me?” Carolina covered her mouth.
“Of course they are. Great performance.”
“Thank you.” But Carolina couldn’t push any enthusiasm into her voice. Her mother’s cancer was back.
Gar nodded. “Tomorrow afternoon at two.”
“I... I can’t.” Her ribs squeezed against her tortured stomach. “I have to go back to Tybee.”
“What?” Gar shouted.
“I have to go home for my mother.”
“You can’t leave.” He jabbed his thumb toward the stage. “They’re looking for a new artist. They have an open slot they can fill in a heartbeat but they gave you an audition. You can’t leave.”
“My mother’s cancer is back. Can you explain that to them.” She pushed her hair off her face. “I’ll... I’ll let you know when I can get back to Nashville, but I have to go home.”
“Damn it, Carolina.” He leaned over, his face inches from hers. “I put too much energy into getting them to come listen. They won’t wait. You can’t do this to me.”
“To you?” She pulled away. “It’s my mother!”
“What was wrong the last time she begged you to come home?” His jaw clenched so tight the bone stuck out. “And the time before that? You’re a yoyo, always bouncing home at your mother’s demand.”
Was her mother crying wolf? She’d done it before. The last time
