Grace Taylor Hudson

Chapter 7

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One week later

Grace and I had hashed most of our issues out and answered a majority of each other's questions; albeit there was nothing graceful or pleasant about it. A week's worth of arguing, shouting, tears, makeup hugs, and Grace going between my house in Beverly Hills and the Brant's house closer to central LA was starting to wear on us emotionally and mentally. Every ounce of doubt that lined my daughter's face and each salty tear that dropped from her eye to her cheeks shattered my heart into a thousand tiny pieces. She was angry, which I understood; Grace had only gone 16 years without knowing who her mother is, which was weird because in a way she did know me.

Although, I really don't think she knew much about me as "KATY PERRY! International pop sensation!"; that made it easier for me. No sleazy tabloid stories to fight with or the idea that I'm this perfect person. Lord knows I'm the farthest thing from that... Shoot, Grace knows I'm the farthest thing from that. Her whole existence proves it.

I made my way downstairs to start cooking us breakfast since Grace had spent the night here and got lost in my thoughts....

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3 days earlier

We had been hanging out all day. It was our first day without any arguments or her leaving to go spend time at the Brant's home to calm herself down and give me space.

"Erm...ummm... Katy? I have a question for you and you'll probably think I'm a total idiot for asking you since it's definitely on your Wikipedia page and Rachel could tell me off the top of her head..." Grace's face turned a light shade of pink as she looked over at me.

"Grace, darling, I'm not going to think you're an idiot. Ask me whatever you'd like!" I sat up straighter and folded my hands in my lap to show her I was ready for whatever she wanted to ask. She looked so precious. How did I miss out on these little moments?

"Okay, uhh.... When's your birthday?" Sh looked down and started playing with a loose thread on her-well actually my- oversized hoodie.

I chuckled, "October 25th, 1984. When's yours?" Her head shot up and she looked at me with a horrified look on her face. I held my hands up, "Joke! I'm only joking! Your birthday is at 11:33 AM, February the 3rd of 1997. A beautifully sunny day in Santa Barbara and an even more beautiful day in my life. There were so many days in the beginning of my career when I wanted to give up and get you. But I remembered another reason why I was killing myself trying to make it: to make you proud to call me your mother when I met you. And, in a way, justify what I did. All of this, every bit of it, you helped motivate me to get. And I want you to understand that.

I love you and no matter what we have to go through I'm here for you. I'm never leaving your side ever again."

She knows so little about me, yet I know a lot of things about her. Although, it isn't nearly as much as I wish I knew; I was slowly picking up on her little habits and quirks. She can't sleep past 8:30 and she can barely stay up past 11, she bites her nails when she's overwhelmed and she likes to go running every Saturday morning (which is where she's at now); when she's stressed she tends to run her hands through her hair, much like me.

As happy as I am that we're on the same page and that she's been here with me, I wanted her to move in with me.

Permanently. I need my baby with me. I don't want to go without her.

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Running. There's no better feeling than my feet hitting the pavement, my heart pumping, air ripping through my nose to my lungs, legs burning, encouraging me to push my limits. Nothing made me feel more powerful, nothing at all.

Running every Saturday is my time to reflect on anything and everything. This morning's run is no different, my time to really wrap my head around this whole situation with Katy. The first two miles consisted of me thinking about all of the changes that have happened this past and the last two back were me thinking of all the changes to come. One of them being something I wanted now.

I want to move in with Katy. This is where I belong. With Katy. No matter where she is, I need to be with my mom.

With a runner's high flowing through my veins I ran into the house to search for Katy. But I stopped short when the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs assaulted my nostrils and made my mouth water.

"Oh my God.. Katy, you cooked. Breakfast. And it's not cereal?"

My jaw dropped in mock disbelief at the sight in front of me. "Wait. You totally had this catered or something didn't you?!?!!"

"Hey! Watch your mouth young lady." She pointed her spoon covered in pancake batter at me. "I cooked this just for you!" She flashed me a bright smile and giggled turning back around to flip her pancake.

"How do I know you're not trying to kill me?" I looked at her with a terrified look on my face and feigned choking, "O-ugh ack! Sigh somebody help me! My psycho mom has poisoned me! Ahhh the horror!" Both of us were laughing, then Katy came over to me to give me a hug.

"I would NEVER do that!" She said with a wink and a sarcastic tone.

"Shall we sit down to eat this lovely breakfast I have prepared after hours of hardwork?"

"Yeah, let's do it! I also really wanna ask you something, don't worry- I think you'll be okay with it."

"Alright! I have something I wanna ask you too Gracie, but you go first!"

She took the syrup to pour onto her stack pancakes and took a bite.

"Well... I was thinking while I was on my run and I really really really think...." I looked at her she was nodding at me and motioning for me to continue on, "Iwannamoveinwithyou." I exhaled and sent a dazzling smile her way, she was sending the same one back to me.

"OHMYGOD. YESYESYES. GRACE! I was going to ask you the exact same thing! I wanted you move in and stay with me and- wow. Yes, of course. Sorry, I got a little loud didn't I?"

"Haha, ummm... Yeah. Just a tad-"

"Grace, I'm so happy. And you're sure you want to make my humble abode your permanent residence? You've talked to Marshall and Laura? When do you wanna go get your stuff? Oh! We can go furniture shopping! And we can redo any one of the guest bedrooms for you, along with a bathroom! Unless you wanna hire am interior designer? No no, they could leak something to the press..." She tapped her chin, "Shannon and Johnny and Markus and Mia would love to help! Or the two of us could do it by ourselves? " She was bobbing up and down, clapping her hands like a little kid.

"Woah! That syrup seriously got to you! Yes, I'm absolutely positively sure! Yes, I've talked to them about it. I actually talked with them about it yesterday before I came over. They're fine with it, a little sad but they're good. They get it, they get it. I would love to redecorate, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for everybody at the same time... Do they all know, like about me?"

"Of course they know! My, uh, whole team knows actually." Her bobbing was replaced by nervous shifting, and her clapping stopped altogether. "They've seen all of your pictures and know who you are. It was something I told them at different times. The right time is how I like to put it. Obviously Bradford was the first to know, I met him about three-ish months after umm... So yeah. Then everybody else kind of came after." I could tell she was having a hard time emotionally so I changed the subject.

"Let's get my stuff tonight? It's not like there's not a whole lot of crap. My par-uh, Laura and Marshall- should have it all packed up." I looked at her sheepishly, "I had a feeling you'd say yes."

"Alright, tonight it is! I'm so excited!" She sing-songed, clapped her hands. We both continued eating, giddy like fifth graders at their first sleepover, only this one was 16 years overdue.