Jacob’s Ladder: Gabe
Page 7
“Soccer.”
Gabe glanced from Linc to me. “Not football like your mom?”
“I’m really not comfortable with him playing until he’s a little older,” I said.
“He’s got plenty of time. I didn’t start playing until I was about twelve.”
“Was it because your mom was a scaredy-cat and thought you’d get hurt?” Linc asked while shooting a look at me.
Before I could respond, Gabe shook his head. “No. It was more about the fact that we were living overseas at the time.”
“Was your dad in the military?” I asked.
“No. My parents were missionaries.”
I stilled my fork midway to my mouth. “You’re the son of missionaries?”
“What does that seem so shocking to you?”
“I guess I never stopped to imagine it.” I gave him a pointed look. “Maybe it was because of your behavior when we first met.”
“How did he act?” Linc asked.
“Uh…” While Gabe smirked at me, I quickly answered, “Not very Christian.”
May interrupted us by bringing our food. “Let me know if you guys need anything else.”
“Thanks,” Gabe replied as he picked up his fork. When we were once again alone, Gabe stared intently at me. “As I said this morning, I am truly sorry for the way I acted yesterday.”
I cocked my brows at him. “And this morning?”
With a scowl, Gabe added, “Yes, this morning as well.”
“Whatever,” I muttered before taking a sugary sweet sip of tea.
“You are going to forgive him, aren’t you Mom?” Linc asked.
As Gabe leaned forward expectantly in his seat, I slowly set my glass down. “You know, Linc, that’s really between me and Mr. Renard.”
“But they always say in Sunday school that we’re to accept sincere apologies and love our neighbor.”
For the first time in my life, I regretted that my son paid attention in church. I obviously couldn’t tell him that part of me not forgiving Gabe stemmed from the fact that he was a sex fiend who wanted to get in my pants. He also wasn’t old enough grasp the enormity of a man being a sexist pig either. “Fine. In light of what you said, I forgive him.”
Gabe smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Let it be noted for the record that it was only under duress,” I hissed at Gabe.
“I’ll take it in spite of that.”
Even as we began devouring the Southern goodness on our plates, the conversation never died down. Like an obsessed member of the paparazzi, Linc wanted to know every facet of what it was like to be in a band, and Gabe was kind to humor Linc’s incessant questions about what it was like to get a record deal and to go out on tour.
Of course, as I watched Linc’s eyes light up as he heard about the antics of life on the road, I couldn’t fight the uneasy feeling that came over me. It was the same feeling I got whenever Linc talked about music and wanting to play the guitar. My heart had been broken too many times because of music. I’d ultimately lost my mother and my boyfriend because of music, and I would be damned if I lost my son as well.
With his plate empty, Gabe leaned back in his chair and rubbed his belly. “Damn, that was good. I can’t remember the last time I had really good Southern food. I guess it was the last time I was at my mom and dad’s in Texas.”
“They really do have the best food in town. I guess that would be obvious since we eat here at least once a week,” I said as I wiped my mouth with my napkin.
“Yeah, Linc told me you did.” The moment the words left his lips, a panicked look took over Gabe’s face. At the same time, Linc gasped next to me.
Glancing between the two of them, I asked, “Wait, when did you say that?”
Linc swallowed hard. “Uh…back when Gabe was asking what was good.”
Although I didn’t remember Linc mentioning our dining habits to Gabe, I merely nodded. After clearing his throat, Gabe asked, “So who’s up for dessert?”
“Yes, pie!” Linc exclaimed as I said, “No, I think we’re good.” Of course, my son wanted to get dessert, which would equate to having to spend even more time with Gabe. Truthfully, it wasn’t that bad spending time with Gabe. I certainly liked the side I was seeing of him tonight more than the one I had the previous day or that morning, even if Linc’s eyes were a little too star-struck for my liking.
“Come on, Mom, we always have pie.” Linc waggled his brows at me. “I’ll even get the lemon and let you have some.”
I laughed at his antics. “You sure know how to sweeten the pot, don’t you?” With a sigh, I added, “Fine. You can have a piece of pie, but don’t get lemon just because of me. I can get my own.” I’d barely raised my hand off the table to wave May over when she came charging forward.
“Is there something I can get you?” she asked, ignoring me and staring straight at Gabe.
While I rolled my eyes at her actions, Gabe merely smiled politely. “Yes, we’d like dessert.”
“Yes, yes, of course. What kind would you like?” Once she scribbled down our orders for two slices of chocolate pie and one of lemon, May scurried off to the kitchen.
“You handled her pretty well,” I remarked.
“After all these years, I’m kinda used to it.”
“Are fans always that way?” While I wanted to ask if women were always that way around him, I decided it was best to stick to fans in general—I didn’t have any doubt in my mind what women were like with Gabe Renard. It was part of why he’d seemed so horrified yesterday when I’d told him no.
“Most of the time, yes. While I try to just handle it politely, my brother Eli goes way over the top. He starts conversations, asks about their families, what they do for a living.” With a smile, Gabe shook his head. “He was born to be a politician. He’s all about the shaking hands and kissing babies.”
I laughed. “He sounds pretty cool.”
“He is. He and my sister are so much alike—all sunshine and roses. Me, I’m more Oscar the Grouch when it comes down to it.”
Tilting my head at him, I teased, “You? Never.”
Gabe grinned. “Whatever.”
May returned with our pies. When Gabe practically inhaled his, Linc and I stared at him in shock. “That was amazing. I think I’ll get another slice.”
Loud chatter interrupted us. At the sight of my Aunt Sadie’s silver bouffant peeking out from under her wide-brimmed red hat, I fought the urge to dive under the table and hide. I’d forgotten she and the other silver-haired ladies loved to come by The Hitching Post for desert after their Red Hat Society meetings. There was no way in hell she wasn’t going to come over and demand to know what I was doing with Gabe. She might’ve been an old maid, but she was bound and determined that her nieces would tie the knot.
When she met my gaze, her blue eyes widened. After saying something to the other women, she made a beeline to our table—well, as much of a beeline as a ninety-two-year-old woman can.
“Well, well, look who it is—my darling niece and nephew,” Aunt Sadie said. Her gaze bobbed from us over to Gabe. “And I don’t believe I’ve met your handsome companion.”
“This is Gabe Renard. He’s just passing through from Atlanta,” I replied.
Aunt Sadie smiled her usual cat-ate-the-canary smile. “Why, I’m aware that he’s not from here, sweetheart. I know everyone in this town, and I’ve certainly never had the pleasure of meeting him before.”
Although Aunt Sadie had never married, she certainly had never lacked for male attention. After her fiancé had been killed in World War II, she’d vowed never to marry. While she might not have ever donned the white dress and veil, she was not going to die a virgin. She was probably one of the first liberated women of her day in Hayesville.
When Aunt Sadie dangled her hand in front of Gabe’s face, he politely shook it. “It’s very nice meeting you as well. In my short stay in town, I’ve met several of Rae’s family members.”
“
I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.”
“Would you like to join us for dessert?” Gabe asked.
“I would love to.”
“But what about your friends? Surely it would be rude to leave them,” I piped up.
Aunt Sadie waved her hand. “They certainly won’t mind me jumping ship to have dessert with my niece and her handsome friend.”
My mouth gaped open when Gabe rose out of his chair to pull out the chair next to him for Sadie. Was he seriously that thoughtful and considerate? It was too hard to believe the same egotistical jerk-wad from the previous day and that morning was acting like he was a gentleman out of a Jane Austen novel. It was like he had pulled a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
“If you don’t close your mouth, Reagan, you might catch a fly,” Aunt Sadie chided as she took a seat.
After clamping my lips together, I made the mistake of looking at Gabe, who had the audacity to wink at me like he knew exactly what I was thinking about him.
God, he was such an egomaniac, and man, I hoped he didn’t make a reappearance in my dreams that night. Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…
Sitting around the table with Rae, Sadie, and Linc felt just like being at home, which was strange considering they were practically strangers to me. More than anything, they were completely genuine around me. They weren’t spending time with me because I was Gabe Renard of Jacob’s Ladder. To all of them except for Linc, I was nothing special, just an average Joe. After so many years in the business, it was refreshing as hell to be able to feel so free.
When a melody entered my head, I froze midsentence. Pinching my eyes shut, I searched for the right lyrics to go with it. As they started to come, I started tapping my foot in time with the melody.
“Are you all right?” Rae asked.
I snapped my eyes open. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine.” Glancing around the restaurant, I looked for the restroom sign. When I saw it at the back of the dining room, I popped out of my seat. “I’ll be right back.”
The heated stares from the others at the table bore into my back as I made my getaway. I was sure they were all wondering what the hell my problem was. Knowing Rae’s disdain for me and rockers in general, she probably thought I was escaping to the bathroom for a drug fix.
When I hurried into the bathroom, I thankfully found it empty. Since I’d left my journal in the Jeep, I would have to improvise as far as what to write on. As my gaze spun around the room, I held out hope for paper towels rather than a dryer. I could write so much better on paper towels than I could toilet paper. Jackpot. Ripping off a long section, I then locked myself in a stall and pulled the Hart and Daughter pen out of my pocket. After knocking out three songs with it the other day, I’d decided to replace my once lucky pen.
I balanced the paper towel across my knee and started furiously scribbling down the chords I heard in my head. When I’d gotten the main melody down, I started adding in the lyrics that flowed through me. Reading back over my work, I smiled. This one was certainly lighthearted and brighter in tone than the other three I’d written.
“Gabe?” Linc questioned outside the stall.
I jerked my head up. “Yeah?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“Mom wanted me to check on you since it’s been almost thirty minutes.”
Holy shit. It felt like I had just sat down. I’d been so lost in the songwriting zone that I had no idea how much time had passed. Even though I could have continued writing, I couldn’t leave Rae and Linc hanging. I gently folded up the paper towel and stuffed it into my pocket, along with my pen.
When I came out of the stall, I met Linc’s concerned face. “Do you want me to see if Mom has some tummy medicine?”
I laughed. “While I appreciate the offer, it’s not necessary. I wasn’t in here with the shits. I was writing a song.”
Linc’s face lit up. “You were?”
“Yep.”
“So you weren’t lying when you said just hanging out with my mom helped you with your songs.”
“Nope. It’s the God’s honest truth.” I went over to the sink to start washing my hands. Glancing back at him in the mirror, I said, “Besides the win of me starting another song, I think tonight went pretty well. How about you?”
Linc nodded enthusiastically. “Mom made it all the way through dinner and dessert without going off on you. Sometimes she even seemed to like talking to you.”
With a grin, I replied, “I thought as much.”
“So, what happens now?”
“There’s no doubt about it—I have to see her again tomorrow.”
“What excuse are you going to use this time? She knows you’re in town, so you can’t really just bump into her like you did tonight.”
“Good point.” Tilting my head in thought, I dried my hands. “I need—no, I want to do something nice for her.”
“Like flowers?”
“Nah, that’s a go-to kind of gift, the kind every guy uses when he wants to do something nice for a girl. I want to do something unique, something that would make her day.”
“You could bring her breakfast.”
“That’s not exactly the angle I was going for, but since you’re her son and know her pretty well, I’ll hear you out.”
“She loves French toast, and even though my Aunt Kennedy owns a bakery, she refuses to make French toast.”
“Why?”
Lowering his voice, Linc said, “It’s because of this guy she dated a long time ago when she was taking cooking classes in France.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Anyway, Mom hardly ever gets her favorite breakfast because the restaurants around here only serve pancakes and waffles, not French toast.”
“If there’s none around here, where the hell am I going to find it to bring it to her?”
“Her favorite one is forty-five minutes from here.”
Groaning, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Let me get this straight: I’m supposed to spend an hour and a half on the road just to get French toast.”
“Yep.”
“Maybe I could hire your aunt to make some.”
Linc shook his head. “Trust me, she won’t do it.”
“Maybe not for free, but money talks.”
“But don’t you see? It’s the fact that you’re going out of your way to get her the food she really likes that counts. It’s something you can do from your heart, not your wallet.”
I stared wide-eyed at Linc. “Damn, kid. How could you know that?” I swore he was some sort of wise old soul in a kid’s body. He was absolutely right—Rae wasn’t impressed with my fame or money, so she certainly wouldn’t appreciate me throwing money at her sister. She was more likely to be impressed that I did something for myself—that I didn’t ask my assistant to deliver it to me. “Once again, you’re completely right. You’re going to be a total ladies’ man when you get older.”
Linc’s cheeks flushed. “Maybe.”
“Trust me, most men don’t possess the level of understanding about women that you do, and you’re only nine. There must be something to be said for being raised in an all-female household.”
“Aunt Kennedy says I’m surrounded by estrogen, whatever that is.”
With a laugh, I replied, “You don’t need to worry about that right now.” I rubbed my hands together. “Okay, what’s the name of the place with the fantastic French toast? To make it back in time before your mom leaves for work, I might have to throw some money at them to open early.”
After Linc gave me the name of what I could only imagine was some backwoods version of iHop, I motioned to the door. “Okay, let’s get out of here before everyone else thinks I crapped out my intestines.”
Linc snickered. “That’s pretty sick.”
“Yeah, it is.”
When we started out of the bathroom, Rae was pacing in the hallway. At the sight of us, a relieved expression replaced her concerned one. “Thank God. I was just about to
go in after you two, and I really, really didn’t want to have to do that.”
I grinned. “I’m sorry. I should have sent Linc back to the table to let you know I was all right, but when he found out I had been writing a song, we started talking about it.”
Linc gave me a look that said, Nice save.
Rae’s dark eyes widened. “You were writing a song? In the bathroom?”
“Yep. On paper towels.”
“That’s…”
“Insane?” I finished for her.
She shook her head. “Amazing,” she murmured. For the first time since she’d met me, she appeared actually impressed by me. “I can’t imagine doing anything creative, least of all in a bathroom.”
“When the words and the music come, I have to go with it. I’m sorry I ran out on you like that.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I’m sure Sadie must think I’m a psycho with the runs.”
Both Rae and Linc laughed. “Speaking of Sadie, we better get back to the table. If we all disappear, she’ll think it’s some kind of conspiracy to get away from her.”
“I’ll go tell her everything is okay,” Linc suggested before hurrying around the corner. Once again, I had to give the kid some props. He knew exactly when to try to give us some alone time.
After nibbling on her lip, Rae said, “So you really weren’t lying to me when you said I influenced your songs?”
“Why would I have lied?”
With a matter-of-fact look, she replied, “To get me in bed.”
“I thought I made it clear to you this morning that I wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. I just want to platonically hang out with you to get my songs written.” At Rae’s quick intake of breath, I realized I’d once again fucked up by saying the wrong thing. Not interested in sleeping with her? Yeah, keep telling yourself that. You’d fuck up her against the bathroom wall right now if she gave you the chance.
“Excuse me for being overly cautious and not completely trusting you,” she snapped.
There it was: the simmering rage beneath the surface, directed at me and only me. Yeah, you deserved that one, asshole.
I held my hands up in front of me. “It’s okay, I get it. After the way I acted yesterday, it makes sense that you would be wary of anything I have to say.”