Broken Open

by Lauren Dane

  He flipped her off out of their mother’s line of sight. “So listen to me because I know what I’m talking about maybe? Such a brat.”

  She mouthed, suck it, and he rolled his eyes.

  “I just want you to be careful. Our biggest challenge is how people might react at the kids’ school or whatever. With you two? This guy is in the public eye. That means a lot of attention and some of it won’t be pretty. I’m worried about you.”

  This moment only underlined why she hadn’t mentioned the situation with the feed store and wanted to spare them the Heywood stuff. Though Tina might think to call Tuesday’s siblings as she had before so maybe she should warn them off.

  Tuesday would bring it up with Nat later to see what she thought.

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I was bratty. You’re right. We get a little attention. He doesn’t notice because I think he’s used to being looked at a lot anyway.”

  Her mother’s knowing laugh broke the last bit of tension left in the room.

  GJ handed her an envelope. Inside was a rather sizeble check.

  “Um, I think you added a few zeros too many. I’ll take your money, no lie, but not this much of it.”

  He whacked the back of her head. “You kidding me? I don’t have that kind of cash to be giving you for your birthday. I got a kid with braces. It’s yours. When Eric died you got a check from one of the policies he had. Remember? It was for a few thousand bucks. I took it and invested it. That’s what it’s all worth now.”

  This money in her hand would enable her to put in the new display cases for her pieces at the gallery. She could afford to play around with some of the stones she’d dreamed of for some more expensive pieces. And she could get her transmission fixed. Even after she paid off bills she’d have a little left to put back into savings.

  She hugged him. “You’re awesome. Thank you so much.”

  He grinned when she let him go, a little embarrassed at the edges. “It’s my job as your big brother. That’s all. Don’t get tears on my shirt.”

  “Sure.”

  Shawn bumped her with his hip. “Tell us about this new gallery thing.”

  “Boys, watch that rice. I need to have a chat with Tuesday.” Her mother waved a wooden spoon and GJ stepped in to take it. Alana and Tisha came in with the kids so there were more hugs and kisses before her mother just sort of steamrollered the two of them out of the kitchen and into the sunroom beyond.

  “Oh hey, new curtains.”

  “Your father has decided he doesn’t need to wear any pants on the weekends. It was a way to save the neighbors the sight of his boxers at three in the afternoon as they tried to barbecue.”

  After they’d stopped laughing, Di took her daughter by the upper arms and held her still while she examined Tuesday’s face.

  “Tell me about him.”

  “I don’t think I’d have enough time even if I was staying until next week. He makes me feel again. In that romantic way. He’s a good man.”

  “A heroin addict.”

  “Someone knows how to use the internet.”

  Her mother’s brows flew up. “Don’t you sass me.”

  “I’m sorry. I told you he was in rehab for heroin and alcohol. He went in—he did his time. He does his work to stay clean. He is solid.”

  “And his lifestyle?”

  She laughed. “Mom, he takes in foster pigs, for goodness’ sake! He doesn’t have a wild lifestyle unless you count riding horses to look at trees and talk about bud cycles. He’s up before dawn most days because he runs a ranch. A successful ranch. He made a mistake. That mistake stole years from him. Friendships. His career. He’s spent his life since making things right. No one holds Ezra more responsible for what he did then than Ezra. Believe me. You think I have guilt issues? He makes me look like an amateur.”

  “I’m not sure I believe there are people who take on guilt for things they didn’t even do more than you. I’ll have to know Ezra a lot longer before I can agree with you. I don’t have much longer before we get interrupted. Your father likes him.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “I’ve been married to the man a long time. He has three basic settings. When he went off with Ezra he was smiling. He likes the boy.”

  “Smiling? He was doing a flinty-eyed not-smile!”

  Her mother waved a hand. “He didn’t mean it. It didn’t reach his eyes. What did you do outside? He was watching probably. He’s been lurking around peeking out the windows to see if you’d arrived yet.”

  “He was up in your bedroom when Ezra opened my door.”

  Her mother laughed and laughed. “Nice.”

  Back when her older sister, April, had been in high school she’d dated a boy who, upon dropping her off, did not walk her to the door, instead parking out front and then pulling away before she’d even got in the house. That boy was never allowed near April after that. Not that her sister would have stayed with a guy like him, but it was sort of family mythology at that point.

  Her mother pressed a small box into her hands. “Happy birthday.”

  Tuesday tugged on the ribbon and pulled the lid free, finding her great-grandmother’s ruby brooch inside.

  “I thought about giving this to you when you got married. But it wasn’t the right time. And then I wondered if it might coax you back from that place you went after Eric died. There have been four other birthdays since then and I have had this box waiting. I wasn’t even sure I was going to give this to you today until you spoke about Ezra just now. You’re in love. Today is the right time. She’d want you to have it.”

  She swallowed hard and looked up at her mother. “Am I that obvious then?”

  Her mother cupped one of Tuesday’s cheeks briefly. “Only to me. You’re scared?”

  “Yes. Oh god, yes. I love him. I can’t deny it. But it’s so complicated and big and both of us are weird and messed up and I’m trying to take it day by day so I can deal.”

  “Not how love works, darling. But you know that.” An elegant shrug Tuesday had been imitating for years but never got as perfect as her mother did. “You can’t pretend love away. Love is a force capable of breaking through just about anything. Tell me a reason why you love him.”

  There were so many, Tuesday realized as she thought about it. “When I’m with him he gives me all his attention. It’s rather overwhelming.”

  “But it makes you feel special.”

  “Dad does that? To you I mean.”

  Her mother nodded. “The first time I met him he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. If anyone else had looked at me like that I would have been uncomfortable. But it was all right because it felt to me like he got to because he understood me. It’s not only important to be understood by your man, it’s integral. Eric never understood you.”

  It hit like a slap and Tuesday took two steps away.

  Her mother waited for Tuesday to be ready to listen again before speaking. “I don’t want to upset you. I’m sorry to have to say all this but you need to hear it. Eric didn’t understand you. He loved you, lord yes. And you loved him and it was right and good that you two were together. This is different and I expect you’re panicking. Always feeling guilty over things when you were little, too. Tell me honestly, does Ezra understand you? Oh, he’s a man so you’ll need to give him a shove in the right direction sometimes. Mostly, when you’re with him do you feel like he’s there for you, for the real Tuesday you are with me or with Natalie? Do you feel like he sees all your cracks and breaks and accepts them? Because that’s what you should demand. You’re worth that sort of understanding. You get to move on. You have every right to do that.”

  A loud hail of hellos meant Natalie had arrived. Her mother took the brooch out and pinned it to Tuesday’s blouse. “Aletha Howard was a strong woman and the man who gave her this saved every single spare penny he could until he could buy it. It took him three years. And he came to her and asked her if he could court her. He said this brooch was his p
ledge that she was worth more than diamonds to him and that he’d put her first for the rest of his life. He was ninety-three when he died. Just three months after she did. This magic is what you need.”

  One last kiss on her forehead and her mother swatted her butt. “Now get in there before your brothers corner Natalie’s boy and give him too much big brother attention.”

  Still reeling from all her mother had said, Tuesday put a smile on her face and walked out to see her family.

  * * *

  “HAVE A SEAT.” Greg pointed at a recliner chair, a twin of the one at its side. Both pointed at a pretty fantastic media setup.

  Despite how Tuesday had described this space, it didn’t seem grungy to Ezra at all. “How does that surround sound handle the acoustics in here?”

  “We added special insulation. I told my wife it would make her music sound better when she practiced.” Greg shrugged with a wink. “You’re seeing my daughter and you have quite a checkered history. You probably understand why I’m concerned about you.”

  “I can respect that, yes, sir. I made mistakes. Big ones. I don’t make those mistakes anymore. I’ve been clean since I left sober living and I have no plans to ever change that.”

  “My daughter is far too precious to me to be exposed to any of that filth. She’s had a hard enough time in her life. You will not be allowed to bring her heartache.”

  Ezra realized that if he handled this wrong he’d have an excuse to break off with Tuesday. He didn’t entirely know how to process all his feelings about that night’s events. Or that she’d known him so fucking well and called him out on his hesitance at letting her get too close.

  But he chose otherwise. “Sir.”

  Greg held up a hand. “Greg, please.”

  “Greg, as your daughter told me a few weeks ago, we’re bound to bring one another heartache from time to time because that’s how it works when you’re in a relationship. I’m a novice at relationships—I admit it. But never in my life until the moment I met your daughter in September, have I felt such a pull toward someone.”

  “You’re very different, you and my Tuesday.”

  “Yes. But where it counts we’re alike. We’ve both got our share of past heartaches. I care about her. I want to protect her. But Tuesday is her own person. She’s capable of making her own happy ending. I just try to keep up.”

  Greg paused, clearly thinking. “You’re in love with my daughter.”

  Ezra sucked in a breath. “I know for sure no one captivates me the way she does. I admire her and respect her. I don’t want to be her life—I want to be part of it. That’s enough for right now.”

  Greg nodded, having understood what Ezra had just said. And what he hadn’t.

  “So this music business. It keeps your bills paid? Living like a college student is one thing when you’re in college. But neither of you are.”

  Greg Easton and Michael Hurley were going to love each other.

  “I still have a percentage in Sweet Hollow Ranch. I don’t go out on the road so they split the tour revenue between themselves, but I write, record and produce each album. And I run the ranch, which runs at a profit, though a far more modest one than music makes. It’s enough to keep the lights on and my animals fed.”

  “You’re rich.”

  Ezra laughed. “Filthy. Wasn’t always so. We came to Oregon from Kentucky when I was very young. We lived in a camper trailer at first while my parents worked the land and built the house. Over the years as we became successful we all chipped in and bought more land around our original plot and now all four of us live on the land in our own houses. Sweet Hollow Ranch is our home. That place we all return to over and over because in the end it’s not the size of your bank account that makes you happiest. But it sure helps when you have the ability to replace broken things before you’ve received payment for a crop of pears.”

  “I know you don’t drink, but one of my daughters-in-law brought me some cigars today. Want one? They’re very good.”

  “I’d love a cigar, thanks.”

  And then the conversation shifted to farming and after about twenty minutes, it seemed the interview was over and as Greg hadn’t punched him or kicked him out, Ezra thought maybe he might have passed the test.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “I THINK YOU passed the Easton test,” Natalie said to Ezra as she plopped down next to him on the couch.

  “Yeah? What makes you say so?”

  “A few things. You wanted more tea and Di told you where the pitcher was. If she hadn’t liked you, she’d have served it to you herself. We’d have had dinner in the big formal dining room instead of out here at the family table. They only eat in there at Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. She treated you like family. Once I saw her treat someone like a guest, the guy John—he’s one of the younger twins—was serious about and brought him here. She was so painstakingly polite. That guy was gone within a year. Of course then he met Alan about four months after so I guess Di was right. They love him. Even made him help with the new deck they built out back.”

  He liked the Eastons. Liked the way Tuesday was with them. Respectful to her parents but affectionate. There was clearly a lot of love there and between her siblings and their families, as well.

  But he could also see the tension building up in Tuesday’s posture the longer they were there.

  “Is it just me or is she stressed right now?”

  “Not just you. She’s telling them about the gallery and they’re not sure about it.”

  * * *

  “ALL I’M SAYING, Tuesday, is that you’ve built a brand with your framing shop. Why switch to a gallery? Art makes way less money than service providers, which you are now.” GJ, bless his heart, just didn’t seem capable of seeing this in any other way.

  “Because this is more than about my bottom line financially. I can make a profit on art, too, you know. I’ll still be framing. I already do most of the stuff I’ll be doing when I call it Easton Galleries.”

  Things got very still for a moment. Her father nodded.

  GJ groaned. “That’s even worse. What if people think you’re an entirely different business and you have to start over?”

  “It’s more than a change in business name, GJ.” GJ’s wife, Alana, sent him a warning look.

  “You’re too old to be flitting around with this art stuff.”

  “Do you know I sold not just one piece priced at over a thousand dollars this last month, but three? Two boutique clothing stores are carrying my stuff. I sold more in a few hours today in Portland than I could have all season long in Hood River. I don’t need to make a million dollars. I need to finally admit what I do is art. And I am.”

  Suddenly Ezra was there, sliding an arm around her shoulders. “We talking about how gorgeous your jewelry is and how fantastic it is that you’re starting your gallery?” He sent her brother an easy smile but he was backing her up. But after the day she’d had, it brought tears to the back of her throat.

  “I was just cautioning her to keep her eye on what’s stable and to stop getting sidetracked by pipe dreams.”

  “When did you get so jaded, GJ?” Natalie asked.

  “It’s not jaded to want my sister comfortable. She doesn’t have a head for business. It’s why she went to Evergreen instead of the UW. You go to a place with no letter grades and you can’t tell me anyone will take that seriously.”

  “Yes, do let’s talk about that because someone might be confused and think you hold my degree with any measure of respect.”

  GJ lifted one shoulder. “You make your own choices, Tuesday. You can’t get mad when people make commonly held judgments about you because of them.”

  Tuesday rolled her eyes. “You know, I’m thirty-four years old. I have my own business. I can pay my debts. I don’t need to give one tiny little fart in the wind what you or some dude down at the shoe store thinks about where I went to college. Get over it, GJ. I run a business. I do so have a head for it.” />
  “Tuesday, did you tell Ezra about our little band?” her mother interrupted, and it took every bit of her willpower not to run for the door.

  “I did. I also let him know you’d understand that he’d be really tired.”

  “And then I said, I’d love to jam with you. She said you were really into Alabama Shakes.”

  * * *

  WHICH IS HOW they ended up heading out to the garage. On the way they hit the picture hall. The walls lining the path from the house out to the garage was full of pictures. Wedding pictures of Diana and Greg along with newer shots from GJ’s, April’s and Shawn’s weddings.

  Grade-school pictures of all six kids and seven grandkids.

  Ezra paused at one of her and April sitting on the Easter Bunny’s lap, but April had been stone-cold freaked by the costume and her face was contorted into a howl of terror.

  “My favorite picture of April,” Tuesday joked to Ezra. She pointed to one of her mother twenty-five years prior. “This is her first shop-steward training here and these three next to it are times she’s won Shop Steward of the Year for her union. Those are of my dad and his brother. They lived in Amsterdam for a year back in the day.”

  Ezra peered at the shot of her dad and uncle. “Your uncle’s hair is like four feet wide.”

  “I know! He’s bald now so when they come to visit my dad takes this one down so he won’t feel bad.”

  They passed through her dad’s domain, where he could watch television as loud as he liked and no one cared, to where the instruments were kept.

  Ezra spoke as they all stopped. “I don’t have my guitar with me. Tuesday forgot to mention this until we’d already got halfway here.”

  Shawn shoved a guitar at Ezra. “You can use mine.” He sent Tuesday a look that said he knew exactly what he was doing. Ugh, brothers.

  “Tuesday, get moving.” Her mother pointed at the drums. “Since Paddy is also here I’ll let him play guitar so I can focus on vocals.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Paddy handed Diana one of her seemingly endless collection of shakers and other things that made noise. “I’ll trade you.”