Whiskey Lullaby

by Keren Hughes

  I pick her up and swing her around, which makes her giggle.

  “Hi, Uncle Brent,” she replies as she peppers my face with kisses.

  “Hey, man,” Evan calls from the kerb.

  I put Jessa down and tell her to wait on the doorstep while I help her mummy and daddy with the bags.

  “What are you guys doing here?” I ask as I pull Julia in for a hug.

  “A little birdie told us you had a three-step plan to win back the girl of your dreams,” Ev replies.

  “And that involves you dragging your wife and daughter on a plane why?”

  “Because if she knocks you back and you have nobody to lean on, Ev thought you might eat your body weight in ice cream and start watching chick flicks,” Julia says with a grin.

  “I could get used to eating Ben and Jerry’s for breakfast, lunch, tea and supper, I guess.”

  That earns me a chuckle from both of them. Ev comes up and slings an arm round me as he hands me a bag.

  “Here, take this.”

  Neither of us lets Julia do any heavy lifting.

  “Don’t worry; if all goes well and you two have some kissing and making up to do, we’ll skedaddle faster than you can say boo. Nobody needs to have to bleach their eyeballs.”

  “Gee, thanks Ev,” I reply with a wry chuckle and an elbow to his ribs.

  “Hey, don’t touch what you can’t afford.”

  “Can’t afford, man? You’re cheaper than”—I catch myself and look around—“a happy meal at McDonalds.”

  We both know I was going to say two-bit whore, but not while little ears are present.

  “A happy meal,” Jessa squeals as she claps her hands together.

  “Oh, gee, now look what you started. Thanks bro.”

  “What do you say Uncle Brent makes his own version of nuggets and chips? It’s way better than McDonalds,” I say as I pick Jessa up and twirl her around.

  “Nuh-uh. Nuffing better than ’Donalds,” she answers in that sweet child-like way.

  “Would you like to place a bet? If you don’t like Uncle Brent’s nuggets better, I’ll take you to McDonalds tomorrow.”

  “Deal.”

  She squeals as I put her down, and Ev gives me a look that says “You cook?”. That cocked eyebrow and cocky smirk say it all.

  Jessa follows me into the kitchen, so I grab her one of my t-shirts off the washing line, so she doesn’t get her clothes dirty.

  “You going to help me mix things together, Jessa?”

  “Can I?” she asks excitedly.

  Julia walks into the kitchen and tries to smother her laugh as she sees me with an apron tied around me. She fails epically, of course.

  “Let me tie your hair back, Jessa.”

  After tying her hair in a bobble, Julia sits at the breakfast bar and watches us, while Ev leans in the doorway, almost filling the damn thing.

  I let Jessa squish the turkey mince in between her fingers while I add seasoning. I crack an egg into a small bowl so no shell lands in the meat, then pour it in and watch as Jessa squeezes the yolk and it pours all over her tiny fingers. She giggles in delight and I sigh contentedly. I could really get used to having a family to do this kind of thing with.

  Since being here, I’ve bought an Echo and asked Alexa for recipes and cooking instructions. It’s been so nice to eat fresh, homemade food, instead of takeaway. I even learned how to cook my mum’s lasagne. She gave me the recipe over the phone, and I was pleased with the outcome, even if it didn’t taste exactly like Mum’s. She told me afterwards that the missing ingredient is love. She said if you cook with love, everything tastes that much better.

  I can’t wait for her to come and visit at the end of the week. Dad coming, well, I can take it or leave it. I love the old man, but he sure does like to needle me over not doing things the way he always thought I should. We rub along for Mum’s sake, but really, I doubt he’s even looking forward to the visit himself.

  After grating the courgette and carrot, I add them to Jessa’s big bowl, and she pulls a face at me.

  “What’s dis, Uncle Brent?”

  “Special ingredients that make them taste better than McDonalds,” I reply in a whisper, like it’s our little secret.

  Her eyes light up and she mixes everything in with her messy hands.

  “Wonders will never cease,” Ev says as he watches Jessa and me.

  “And what’s that meant to mean?”

  “Just that I never thought I’d see you don a pinny and start cooking. Well, actually, it looks like my daughter is doing the grunt work, but I’ll give you a pass on that.”

  “Never doubt the powers of Alexa and my mum.”

  “Another woman? I thought you wanted Caleigh back?”

  Confusion etched on his face, he’s a picture right now.

  “Darling, do you really know nothing? Alexa is the Amazon Echo. She’s a bit like Siri on your phone.”

  “Oh,” he sighs as he smacks himself in the face with his palm.

  I chuckle and shake my head at him whilst scooping out the mixture to form into nugget shapes. Jessa sees what I’m doing and tries to give it a go herself. She doesn’t make them perfect, but then neither do I and I’m a thirty-odd-year-old man.

  So, I try to make mine a little bit more like hers, in case she feels self-conscious. Would she, at her age? Is she too young? Well, never mind now, because mine are perfectly imperfect, just like hers.

  ***

  After agreeing that my nuggets and homemade chips were better than McDonalds, Jessa had a bath and Julia put her to bed in the guest room.

  It’s just the three of us now, and it’s nice to chill out with my best friend and his wife. There’s a bottle of wine open and we’re sitting on my oversized couch, a fire roaring in the beautiful inglenook fireplace. The house is probably a tad big for one person, but with the three of them here, it feels more homely.

  Truth is, I didn’t buy it with just me in mind. I wanted space for a family, but the only person I see that family with is Caleigh.

  Thinking about her, I pull out my phone and check it, like I’ve done periodically all day. Still no texts. Maybe she’s too angry. Maybe she just doesn’t care. But I have to believe that when all is said and done, there is still hope. No matter how tiny that spark might be, it has to be there. Without hope, I have nothing.

  “…yeah, and Ash said that this one here was pulling out all the stops.”

  I look at Evan and realise I missed half of what he said. I pocket my phone and pay more attention to the here and now.

  “But what did you have in mind, Brent?” Julia asks.

  “Well, step one was flowers.”

  “Dude, really? Flowers are your big move?” Evan cuts in.

  “No, they’re step one.”

  I tell them about steps two and three. They both grin like loons when I finish explaining.

  “I hope to god you pull this off, bro.”

  “I would melt if someone did all that for me,” Julia says with a sigh.

  “Oh, someone, huh? Just someone?” Evan asks as he tickles her ribs until she laughs almost loud enough to wake their sleeping daughter.

  “Okay, okay, you win. I meant you and only you,” she replies breathlessly as she bats away his hands.

  He leans in to kiss her, and a twinge of jealousy shoots straight to my heart. I want what they have so damn badly.

  “Have you listened to the new album yet?” Julia asks and Evan tries to hush her.

  “It’s fine, Ev. Yeah, I’ve listened. It might even be the best album yet.”

  “Shame it’s your last, but I understand,” she replies sweetly.

  “Can I tell you the truth, Julia?”

  “Of course.”

  “I never played for the attention of fans, for the limelight or the money. I played because music runs through my bloodstream, like it’s needed to keep me alive. Don’t get me wrong, the money was a nice bonus, and for so many fans to love us and our music, that was a
mazing. But I grew tired of it, wished for the good old days at open mic nights and smaller locations. I wished I could play just because I wanted to, not because I had to.”

  “I can understand that. Plus, the saying goes ‘all that glitters isn’t gold’ and there’s a lot of truth in that.”

  She echoes my own thoughts, and it’s nice to hear someone else say those words.

  “That’s so true, Julia. Some things in life are more important than money or fame. I found one of those things on my little sojourn to the quiet little town when I disappeared. It was so nice not to have anyone recognise me, not to be mobbed for my autograph or a bunch of selfies. Don’t get me wrong, I’d do anything for our fans, it’s just that it felt nice to drop off the grid.”

  “And you liked the feeling so much, you decided you wanted to feel more of it. There’s nothing wrong with that, Brent. Nothing at all. Plus, I know that you’ve never been in love until Caleigh, but I can tell you, love is a wonderful thing to have in your life. If you find it, you need to hold onto it.”

  “I found it, and I lost it. I’m not blaming anyone or anything else. It was all on me. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that I can’t give up on her. I asked her to tell me she didn’t love me, and if she did, I’d leave her alone. But she didn’t, so I’m like a dog with a bone. I won’t let go without a fight.”

  “It may be an uphill battle,” Julia says as she reaches for her wine, “but nothing in life worth having is ever easy.”

  “I’ve never felt like this before, Julia. Never had to fight for what I want. In all honesty, everything came too easily. Now that I have something to fight for, I’m woefully underprepared, but I won’t give up. God knows Caleigh’s worth it.”

  I sigh as I think of her. Is she thinking of me? What’s she doing right now? What’s she wearing? I picture her wearing nothing but a smile, which makes my cock twitch, so I switch to thoughts of my dad and the possibility he’ll be a douche all weekend.

  That’s as good a way as any to get rid of a budding erection. Hell, it’s enough to make my balls shrivel back up inside me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Caleigh

  If he thinks he’s winning me over with flowers, no matter how stunning an arrangement it is—which it really is—and a Disney reference, that boy has another thing coming.

  Nice job on referencing my second favourite film, but no. Just no. I am not caving in that easily.

  Rhiannon has helped make one thing clear—I still love him. But she also said that I ought to make him earn my forgiveness, and as nice as it is to have flowers delivered, it doesn’t even scratch the surface.

  To be honest, I don’t know what it will take for him to earn back my trust. I can’t figure that out. I don’t believe there’s any one thing on its own that will do it. All I do know is that I need to remain strong, not show any outward sign of weakness, not give in to him as easily as my heart wants me to.

  With Hardin settling in nicely at school, and the studio getting noticed more thanks to paid advertising and word of mouth, things are beginning to feel a lot more like home right now.

  Mum and Dad came to visit, which was nice. I showed them the studio and mum even stayed for a class.

  I’ve decided to stop avoiding Brent’s house on the school run. The other way adds ten minutes to our route, and it’s hard enough getting a five-year-old ready and out of the door for eight o’clock as it is. It’s time I did what Rhiannon said and pull up my big girl panties, suck it up like an adult.

  Life isn’t all about Brent, even if love is a wonderful thing to have in your life. I have much more important things to focus on, like Hardin, like my new career. It’s so nice to have a stable routine, one where I can be around for Hardin more. Where I can walk him to school and back, be around to help with his homework. It’s nice to work during school hours but have weekends off. During the school holidays, Rhiannon has offered to look after him while I go to Savasana. I said I’d hire a sitter, but she wouldn’t hear a word of it. In her words, she’s a lady of leisure. With Lewis being a tad old-fashioned, he doesn’t want her to have to work while Luna is young. So, she said it makes no difference if she has just Luna or Hardin too, and it would be nice for them to play together.

  Maybe one day, when the studio is full to bursting, I might be able to afford to hire help and take some time off during his school holidays so that we can take a little holiday for a week, somewhere nice like Devon or something.

  “Mummy, can I go to Billy’s for a sleepover?” Hardin asks as Mrs. Buckle lets him leave.

  “Not tonight, darling, not on a school night. But maybe over the weekend, okay baby?”

  “Okay, Mummy. Can I just go and tell Billy? He’s waiting for me just there,” he says as he points at a cute little blond boy.

  “Okay, honey, but make it quick. We’re making something special for tea tonight.”

  He runs off and stops next to Billy. He waves his arms around, a habit he has when he’s talking. He obviously inherited my mannerisms.

  We skip along the road home, and Hardin chatters excitedly when he sees Brent outside his house.

  “Hey, Brent,” he calls.

  “Hey, little man,” Brent calls with a wave. “Hey, Caleigh.”

  I offer a small smile and wave as we pass, but then I see a gorgeous woman coming out of his front door. My heart feels as though it might come up out of my mouth. I put my head down and speed up. Hardin questions why we’re going so fast, but I just tug his hand and he walks faster to fall in step with me.

  We hang our coats up and Hardin asks for his normal snack. I make it for him, and he sits down in front of the telly to eat. Not something I allow him to do often, but I need a few moments of peace to collect my thoughts.

  Who was she? A friend? A neighbour? Something more? If it’s more, then why did he send me the flowers?

  Maybe he thought I’d call or text to thank him, and then felt like I’d blanked him. Truth is, I picked up my phone to thank him, but then I couldn’t send the text. I hovered over the button, but when it came to it, I just deleted the words and put my phone away, and gave Hardin a bath to distract myself. Sure, I’d had a chance to text him when Hardin wasn’t here, but I got the flowers just as I got home from work and then had to shower and change ready to collect Hardin. I was too busy, or at least that’s what I tell myself to quiet the nagging thoughts.

  Turning my iPod dock on, I find a playlist on YouTube and let it play while I gather the ingredients needed to cook our tea. We’re making courgetti bolognese, a healthier alternative to spaghetti. I even bought a weird new spiralizer thingy to help make the courgette into long strands like spaghetti. I haven’t used it yet, so we’re going to give it a whirl this evening. Even though right now, all I feel like doing is having a bath and going to bed.

  “Want to Want Me” by Jason Derulo and Luke Bryan begins to play, and I can’t help but dance around the kitchen, looking oh so elegant in my slippers and apron. This song just makes me happy, and this version in particular makes me smile, probably because Luke admits he can’t hit the notes that Jason does. I like his modesty.

  Hardin comes in and puts his plate in the sink before washing the chocolate off his hands.

  “Can Brent come for tea, Mummy?” he asks with a smile.

  And just like that, my good mood evaporates. An ache in my chest replaces it.

  “Not tonight, baby. Another night, maybe,” I reply around the lump in my throat.

  “Okay.”

  He skips off back to the living room, no doubt to watch more telly. Skipping the end of the song, I try to clamour back some of my good mood.

  ***

  After bathing Hardin and reading him a bedtime story, I change into my pyjamas and head back downstairs. I load the dishwasher, turn it on and make myself a coffee before heading back to the living room to watch a DVD.

  I put 10 Things I Hate About You on, one of my all-time favourites—not just because
Heath Ledger is a total hottie, but it helps.

  When my favourite scene comes on, I can’t help but swoon as Patrick belts out the lyrics to “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You” and the marching band starts up on the football field. Totally cheesy, but a win in my book. I always only had eyes for Patrick.

  As the film ends, I notice the time and am shocked by how late it is. Guess I’ll have to forego the long hot soak in a bath and opt for a shower instead.

  I let my head fall back against the tiles and the hot water wash over me. Closing my eyes, I picture Brent. His smile flickers behind my eyelids and I feel my own lips stretch in response to the image in my mind. How I miss those soft, pink lips, his soft hands with calloused fingertips from playing guitar, his perfect abs, his tight ass …

  My eyes fly open, my brain unwilling to picture more of him, lest I just give into my heart and let down my defences. I have to be strong. I’ve come this far without him and I’ll go on further. Won’t I?

  What did Rhiannon say? She said to open my mind and my heart to the idea of loving and being loved by Brent. That if we were meant to be, then somehow, we would. She also said something about being “master of your own destiny”—or in my case, should that be mistress? She said that sometimes fate needs a helping hand. I’m not sure whether I believe in fate or making your own destiny, and Rhi was talking at crossed purposes about them both, probably due to the wine.

  ***

  “The class was great, thank you, Caleigh. You know, you’re just what we need around here.”

  “Aw, thank you, Ali. You’re too kind.” I take a long gulp from my water bottle.

  “No, really. I mean, there’s a group of us who go to a local Weight Watchers together. I’ll certainly be telling them all about it and seeing if I can persuade a few of them to try yoga with you. There used to be a class around here, but the instructor was rather abrasive. So much so, that people stopped coming and she closed up eventually.”

  “Well I’m sure we can fit you all in; this is a decent-sized studio after all. Maybe we could even think about doing a special class just for you. As you know, it’s unisex classes at the moment, but if, for example, your Weight Watchers group was all female and a little self-conscious of having males in the class, we could accommodate that.”