TWENTY-FOUR

"(She's) Got that AH!—

I mean

Wanna see what's under that attitude!..."

———

April 17th, 2018

The first tour date was exactly two weeks away.

And according to the GPS, Dorothea and Taylor were exactly two miles away from the singer's mother's house.

Dorothea's eyes burned as she gazed out the passenger seat window. She'd stayed up far too late prior to their seven-am flight and was now paying the price for it.

More and more of her recent evenings were creeping past midnight, as she poured over hundreds of rehearsal photos. There were multiple external hard drives hooked up to her computer and the Photoshop interface was burned in her mind hours after she stopped working. While her days were filled with design meetings and phone calls, she felt she didn't have a choice but to work after hours, but she also preferred it that way. It was a lot easier to soothe her picky, obsessive tendencies towards her work when the day was finally quiet.

But her mounting lack of sleep didn't come without its consequences.

"I told you to take a nap on the plane," Taylor noted, glancing at her as she was beginning to doze off.

"I tried," Dorothea muttered.

"You were staring at Instagram for two hours," the blonde countered.

"Because I couldn't fall asleep,"

"Did you try closing your eyes?"

Though she knew the singer intended it as a joke, her expression darkened. "I'm just trying to meet the deadline for your merchandise."

"And I've told you multiple times that there's no need to worry!" Taylor argued, "Thea, you could have submitted what you finished a week ago and I would have been more than okay with putting it up on the website!"

"So you're saying that everything I've done since then is pointless?" Dorothea questioned irritably.

"No! Stop it. You know that's not what I meant,"

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you shouldn't feel like you have to prove anything," Taylor explained. "The team loves your work. I love it. You should be focusing on taking care of yourself. You're over four months pregnant!"

"Yes, I'm painfully aware. Thanks for the reminder."

Taylor sucked in a sharp breath, but hesitated. She flipped her turn signal, then drove down the street towards her mother's house. "I'm just trying to help you," she muttered.

Dorothea didn't respond. Instead, she turned her focus to the set of black iron gates that Taylor had just pulled in front of. As though anticipating their arrival, they drifted open seamlessly, revealing a long, gray-stoned driveway lined with perfectly-trimmed, emerald green hedges.

Taylor stopped the car in the roundabout just before the steps leading up to the front doors. Dorothea knew, as they quietly gathered their belongings, that those last few seconds in the car were her window to apologize. But in the past few days it felt like all she was doing was apologizing. She was embarrassed. Surely Taylor was sick of it, too.

The pair walked up the steps to the glass doors, and when Taylor reached to pull one of the curvy bronze handles, both women's eyes widened in simultaneous shock.

"Hi girls!" Heather Madison flashed an immaculate white smile beneath a lovely shade of dusty pink lipstick. She was wearing one of her floral-print dresses, with her favorite heels and white sweater draped over her shoulders. She also had that little sparkle in her green eyes, as though she'd recently consumed a mimosa or two.

"Mom?" Dorothea and Taylor exchanged confused looks. Before she could say anything more, the singer's mother appeared from the hallway, struggling to contain her laughter.

"Surprise!" Andrea exclaimed.

"What—" Taylor stopped, baffled. "I'm so confused...?"

"Well, Honey, you're not the only one making new friends!" Andrea laughed, dabbing at the corner of her eye. "It really was the funniest thing..."

Heather was now laughing, looking at the singer's mother as though they'd been friends for decades. "It all started when Andrea sent me a text message on Facebook!" She explained, "Of course, it took me a day or so to figure it out. I didn't realize there was this little speech bubble for chatting with people! Thea, how come you never told me you could chat with me on Facebook!"

"I think you know why," she murmured, though the subtle whack she received on her arm from Taylor suggested it was louder.

"So then..." Andrea placed her hand on Heather's arm as she looked between her and them. "Then I mentioned how we met Dorothea at our dinner at The Pearl, and how lovely she was..."

"And I had to confirm she was talking about you!" Heather exclaimed.

"Amazing," Dorothea remarked.

"So anyway, long story short, when I found out that your mother had never been to Nashville, I just thought, wouldn't it be so funny if she showed up!" Andrea said, turning to the other woman, "I told you, they'd never expect it!"

"And I thought, what a perfect opportunity to meet the mother of my daughter's girlfriend!"

Dorothea's heart stopped; eyes doubled in size as she looked at her mother.

"Mom," Taylor suddenly said, her tone cautious, "you didn't—"

"No, Taylor, your mother didn't say anything!" Heather insisted, "I was the one who asked!"

"Oh, dear..." Andrea sighed.

Dorothea was still too stunned to speak. She was confused, but she also wanted to laugh. When she looked up at her mother, she cocked her head. "What made you...?"

"Thea, I've had a sense for a very long time," Heather answered, "and I also think that somewhere along the way, you forgot the walls in my house are paper thin."

"Oh...my god." Her face flushed as she laughed. All she could do was laugh. "Oh, my god."

"Oh, but Sweet Pea, I'm so happy. For you! And the two of you!" Her mother assured, "And I promise I really didn't hear that much—"

"Oh my god!"

Taylor laughed and wrapped her in her arms, the tension from earlier seeming to melt at the expense of her embarrassment. After a few seconds, they were all laughing, and Dorothea dropped her head against the blonde's chest, praying that she could somehow also melt into her and completely disappear.

"Thea, I'm sorry," her mother suddenly apologized, as though realizing—once again, as well as in the future to come— what her loose lips had gotten her into.

"It's okay." Dorothea smiled. "But I'm officially never staying at your house ever again."

"Dorothea Jane stop threatening me with that!"

"No guarantees," she muttered, once again earning a nudge from the singer who was still standing very much within earshot.

The two mothers —sorry, besties— excused themselves to the kitchen to put out the sandwiches they made for the pair. Dorothea could only watch in amazement as her mother and Andrea walked side-by-side, giggling like they were about to get caught sneaking out of class. Of course, Heather Madison would have no problem befriending her celebrity girlfriend's mother.

"They really did that." Taylor laughed softly.

"I'm mortified."

"I told you having sex that week was a bad idea,"

"Yeah...that probably wasn't the first time she caught on."

Taylor suddenly looked at her. "Really?"

"Really."

"Okay, cool. So who was the other woman you had sex with in your bedroom at your mother's house?" The blonde asked.

Dorothea gave a nervous laugh, not meeting her eyes. "Yeah, we're not discussing that until I can drink again."

"Great. I'll add it to the list,"

"What list?"

"The list of things you refuse to talk about without alcohol."

"You made a list?"

"Yep,"

"I don't believe you."

Taylor shrugged, smiling. "Guess you'll have to wait and be surprised."

"Sorry, only one embarrassing surprise per year," Dorothea said, "and my mother beat you to it."

The singer laughed. "Well, the clock was ticking." When Dorothea gave her a strange look, she added, "You said you'd come out before tour. So congratulations! Two weeks to spare."

"Hooray." Dorothea smiled wryly. "If only I could celebrate with a glass of champagne."

———

April 26th, 2018

"Names?"

Dorothea smiled, shaking her head. "Haven't decided."

"But you have a list?" Graham, one of the tour dancers prodded. His eyes widened when she shook her head again. "What? Not even in your phone? Dorothea, it's 2018!"

"I don't know, a list feels...Overwhelming," she said, sipping her third iced chai tea of the day. They were sitting in one of the rehearsal spaces at the University of Phoenix Stadium in Glendale, surrounded by industrial-sized fans in an attempt to escape the brutal late-spring heat. Though capable of being enclosed, the roof on the stadium was wide open, thanks to the crane that was required to assemble her girlfriend's massive stage.

"Has Taylor given you any suggestions?" He asked, taking a swig of ice water.

"In passing, but I've shot most of them down." Dorothea smirked.

"So you do have a list," he corrected.

She picked up her cup, taking a sip from the straw. "It's not much of a list when there's only one name."

Graham gasped, "Tell me!"

"No way."

"Please?"

"Maybe four months from now,"

"As you're screaming from your hospital bed, crushing all of the bones in Taylor's fingers?"

"Maybe. But I'm pretty sure she'd never forgive me if I ruined her ability to play guitar halfway through the tour." Dorothea laughed.

Graham looked at her with a knowing smile as she avoided his gaze. "I disagree," he said quietly. After a moment, he added, "She's the one, isn't she?"

Dorothea met his eyes right as Taylor appeared in the doorway on the opposite wall of the concrete-floored space. "Yes."

"So this is where all of the fans went," Taylor said, hair blowing in the mechanical breeze as she approached the pair.

"And in less than a week you'll have seventy-thousand of them screaming your name at the tops of their lungs," Dorothea noted. "Isn't that enough?"

"Hilarious."

"Aren't I?"

Taylor rolled her eyes while Graham chimed in, "We were talking baby names earlier."

"Yeah, Thea doesn't like any of my ideas," Taylor mentioned.

"You told me it's ultimately my decision!" Dorothea said.

"It is," Taylor agreed, lowering herself down at her side, "because even though you entertain my suggestions, I know you've already decided."

"Yep."

"Wait—Really!" Taylor's eyes bugged as she laughed. "I was just joking! Thea! Tell me!"

Dorothea smirked, shaking her head and bringing her lips to the straw of her drink. "You'll just have to wait and be surprised."