Treading The Waters [on hold]

Chapter Twenty-Three

"Do you have the list?" Lorraine's slightly panicked voice echoes through the phone.

"Yes, Lo. I have the list." She's only reminded me fifty times in the last week and made a million adjustments to her menu. I wouldn't call my sister bridezilla, but she's been very clear about how she wants this to go. Okay, she's bridezilla's first cousin or something.

"Okay. I'll be there later to try everything."

"Yes, Lorraine." I sigh. She needs to stop bossing me so that I can actually start cooking the test-run for the wedding.

"Okay, but don't forget—"

"I love you, Lorraine," I rush out. "Bye!" I hang up before she can tell me anything else. She's driving me insane, but I love her anyway.

I had Billy close the restaurant early today so that I can use it for myself. It's a Tuesday so it's usually not one of our busy days. This wedding is about two months away and I need to figure out if this is going to work because if not, more adjustments need to be made.

Ten minutes later, I show up at Baya's door. Have I asked her to help me? No. But I'm too addicted to spending time with her and this is the perfect excuse.

I knock on the door and hear a grumbled moan from the other side, followed by a thump. When Baya finally opens the door, her hair is disheveled, she's in pajamas, and there's a blanket hanging off her shoulder.

"Did you just wake up?" I nod at her.

"Yes, I did. Because someone knocked on my door."

"It's two o'clock, Baya."

"I know," she yawns. "I took a nap. Been a rough morning."

"Rough?" She nods, then gestures for me to come inside. Baya walks back to the couch, plopping down and wrapping herself back up in her blanket. It's early June, not like it's cold. I don't see how she's wearing a blanket right now.

"My boss—ex-boss... whatever the hell he is. He called this morning to tell me that something was still missing in my music, and honestly, I'm not sure what more he could want from me. I'm doing everything that they ask. I change the chorus, lengthen the range, alter the pitch and play with the scale. Nothing is enough. I'm not enough." She mutters that last part, not intent on me hearing it. I can read lips though.

"I think what they're telling you is a crock of shit. You have always written what you felt, and if they don't like it, I say fuck them. You're enough, Baya. Don't question that."

"It's not that simple," she bites. "I have enough money saved for a little while longer, but then I'll have to have some form of job back because if not..." She doesn't finish her sentence, but she doesn't have to. I know where she was going.

"Have you thought about reaching out to other people and seeing if they'd be interested in buying your songs?"

Her brows furrow, the wheels start turning in her head. "Holy shit. Why didn't I think of that?" Baya hops off the couch, running straight for me. She jumps into my arms and plants a quick kiss on me, smiling so bright that I think I may need sunglasses. "You're so smart, J. I didn't even think of that."