by Susan Ward
From Jump Street it shoved in my face that my parenting skills weren’t exactly where they should be and were something I needed to work on. I knew practically nothing about how to deal with five-, six- and seven-year-olds.
I’d spent so much time touring during the first five years of Hana’s life, mostly to avoid Tara, but my daughter had been the true casualty. I haven’t really spent any significant periods being her dad. Mentoring these kids has become like on-the-job training for when I move my daughter from my parents’ house to wherever I set up a home for us. It also makes me miss her in the worst way.
The charity also reminds me of the one my grandpa Jack’s foundation runs in South Central, The Lena Parker Coalition for the Arts. Spending time here made me regret not having participated more in the cause both my grandfather and mom devote themselves to.
It’s also where Jade and I reconnected. She stepped into the room I was playing in—I’m given access to the recording studios to bounce down the music I’ve been writing on the streets—saw me, and her green eyes flashed in angry redhead alert.
Yep, unlike Willow, she recognized me first glance. Thankfully, unlike Ivy, she didn’t hit me, though I could see she considered it.
There were some touchy minutes of her shouting in my face before she simmered down and we were able to talk things through. She knows the full story—just like Ivy does—about what went down between me and Tara, how much I regret losing Willow because of it, and why I’m in Capitol Hill.
Winning Jade over took more work than Ivy. As in, offering to teach piano gratis to her daughter, Jasmine, in private lessons twice a week. There was still enough of that blue-collar girl from Capitol Hill inside the tech-rich fashionable Jade that couldn’t say no to a freebie.
In the beginning Jade sat in a chair, arms crossed, glaring at me. But now she smiles when she drops Jasmine off, lets me do my thing, and we’re something akin to friends.
It’s funny the unexpected turns recovery brings your way. The two girls who trusted me the least and disliked me the most seven years ago were the easiest ones to be completely honest and reestablish a relationship with.
As much as I analyze it, I can’t make sense of it. I laid bare every piece of my ugly truth without pause to Jade and Ivy, and they didn’t slam the door on me. But then, these Capitol Hill girls, Willow included, have always been an anomaly to me. I’ve never met women like them, not anywhere in the world.
I’m climbing out of the Uber when my phone trills. I’m hoping it’s Hank, that he needs me for something. That’d give me an excuse to head back to the hotel, grab my gear, and spend the day in front of Mel’s watching Willow.
But no such luck.
It’s a single emoji from my baby sister, Khloe. The smiley face means she’s got salacious info about her life to share with me and wants me to call her.
We’ve gotten very close in the last nine months. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve slid into the slot of her favorite brother because Ethan’s married now and all wrapped up with his family. I hope that isn’t the reason. It feels good being close to Khloe, and reminds me how this last year has reshaped all my relationships with my family.
I’d kinda hoped Ethan would have reached out to me by now. Two days since I texted him; nothing back. Maybe I should call him. No, pushing isn’t the right move. Forgiveness is a long and hard road. I have to be patient with the people in my life I owe amends to.
Ethan will come around when he’s ready.
It’s his call; it has to be that way.
One day at a time.
I make a mental note to call Khloe when I get back to the hotel. Having thought about it, I’m glad the text wasn’t Hank needing me back at the El Encanto.
After breakfast with Willow, I was both pumped and worried about my success during our first date. I’d wowed her exactly in the right way. But I’d also felt a lot of things more strongly than I’d ever experienced with her before. It alarmed me how fast my emotions rose up inside me.
As wonderful as it was, I shouldn’t have kissed her. It’d been risky and wrong and might have blown everything.
It’d felt like us from first contact, how we’d been together seven years ago, intense, tangible and undeniable. I savored every second of her in my arms, inspired by what it confirmed for me, but I could feel it unnerved Willow.
That made me concerned I’m moving too quickly and that I need to put some distance between us. It warned that passing the day in front of Mel’s might not be in the best interest of either of us.
At this juncture, the last thing I want to do is ruin everything by moving us at a pace too quick for her—and, in honesty, for me.
I can’t lose sight of the boundaries I need to maintain, even if every second I’m with her makes me want to crash through them.
But I can’t win Willow back by merely romancing her. I’ve gotta move slowly, build a relationship on friendship and trust, prove to her I’ve changed, and ignore my body’s want to go full throttle in the direction I can feel we’re heading.
I can’t stray too far from my goal.
I’m not after just a night with Willow.
I want her back in my life, loving me forever, as I can now see it was always meant to be.
IT’S AFTERNOON AND I’m walking to the El Encanto. I spent a couple of hours bouncing down a new track in one of the recording studios.
I haven’t heard from Hank all day. It’s good that he’s sleeping, but it has me concerned that he’s skipped his pills and eating.
I stop at the Japanese restaurant across the street from the hotel, grab some soup for him, hand off the to-go bag I’ve lugged around all day to the concierge, and head to my room.
There isn’t a tray outside our door when I reach my floor. Hank didn’t order in. It makes me glad I stopped to get him something for lunch.
Trying to make as little noise as possible, I swipe the card and open the door. Inside the suite, I drop my sunglasses and key on the console table.
Thinking I’ll have to bring him his soup to his room, I’m surprised when I spy Hank awake, showered, dressed in a complimentary robe, and sitting in a chair.
He looks good, rested, better than he has in weeks. Finding him this way makes me wonder why he hasn’t been pestering me all day in his usual text-an-hour routine. Hank’s not good at entertaining himself. But I guess it’s easier here, having TV and other modern essentials.
“You’re up,” I announce from the entry. “And looking good. You must have really needed the rest, brother. But you probably shouldn’t be out of bed yet. You don’t want to relapse by doing too much too soon.”
“Had to get up. Had to answer the door.” He says that all cautious-like, as if he’s worried about something. “I’m glad you’re back. It’s been hell not texting you to hightail it here ASAP. But they wouldn’t let me.”
They?
I frown from how he’s staring at me because it’s like he’s giving me a heads-up that I’m walking in on something. There’s a sound of movement from the side of the room I can’t see from where I’m standing, and I realize someone’s in there with Hank. Oh fuck…it better not be the press. That’s something Hank would definitely not know how to manage, and by how awkward he looks I can tell whatever’s going down is out of his depth.
I tense, ready to blast whoever it is that’s found me. A body comes into view, and my legs cease working as the air leaves my chest.
“Am I looking good, too, Eric? Or is Avery right? I look as scruffy caveman as you do these days?”
My heart lands in my throat.
What the fuck?
Ethan!
Chapter Twelve
Eric
EVEN AFTER HOURS OF laughing and catching up on our lives, I’m still in a state of semi-shock. I can’t believe one text and Ethan’s here. There are no words for how it chokes me up that he brought Avery and baby Noah as well.
I can’
t seem to pull my gaze from his face. It’s been a year and so much has gone down in both our lives that I thought there’d be some change. But it’s the brother I’ve always known sitting beside me on the couch: long blond hair slightly past his shoulders; a spray of golden growth on his chin and cheeks; quiet, slightly crooked smile; deep-set blue eyes thoughtful, watching even as they smile at me; casually dressed, trying to be as inconspicuous as a globally famous rock star can be in an army-green bandana matching a thousand-dollar custom-made shirt.
I never expected it. Ethan, untouched by all that went down. He looks good, solid and happy. It wasn’t until I realized this that some of the weight I’d been carrying over our past started to wane.
I was afraid to reach out to him—it’s why I hadn’t until my mom prompted me to—and it was wrong not to have done it sooner. He deserved an apology for all the stunts I pulled long before this. It’s also true that saying it and telling him all the shit I’ve kept hidden for years was something I needed for me.
The words pour out of me effortlessly—the things I should have been honest with my brother about, the details of my recovery, the amends list in my pocket and what that’s about. Facing it all with Ethan has been liberating.
It finally feels as if I can move forward in my life and have it be something good. Ethan coming here, accepting me, and hearing me out, has been more of a gift than I ever could have imagined it to be, and it reminds me how much I need and love my brother.
I collapse back against the seat cushions, exhaling heavily and shaking my head. “I’ve been staring at you for three hours and I still can’t believe you’re here.”
Ethan laughs. “I almost had a heart attack when I saw you in the lobby this morning. Khloe’s been sharing with me the emails that you send her about what you’ve been up to here, and I was expecting”—he flushes, and I know what he’s thinking—“to find you to be something else…I don’t know what…but, brother, you look like you again.”
Avery looks up from the baby in her arms. “No, Ethan. He looks better. He looks like you. I guess we know what that fuzz on your face is all about. That weird twin telepathy you have with your brother.”
“No, it’s about having a demanding wife and newborn in the house.” Chuckling at the cute way they bicker—fuck, I knew they’d be perfect together if Ethan only made a move on Avery—I watch as Ethan ruefully rubs his chin. “Avery doesn’t like the beard, but it’s staying.”
I crinkle my nose. “Don’t worry, Avery. It’ll look as fantastic as mine once it grows in completely. But poor Ethan won’t ever be as handsome as me.”
“Still modesty personified, aren’t you, EJ?” She rolls her eyes, but her mouth is holding back a smile. “And no, Ethan, I’m never liking the fur patch hiding your face. But one good thing has come from you having it. If you hadn’t grown it, I wouldn’t have recognized Eric this morning in the lobby. My mouth dropped when I spotted you.”
Sinking my fingers into my hair, I shake my head. “I don’t know how I didn’t see you.”
Ethan’s face fills with wonderment. “Dude, you brushed right by us when we were checking in. I wanted to haul ass after you, but Avery stopped me.”
“Looked to me like you had something on your mind,” Avery teases, grinning. “Sharp dressed. Carrying a bag from the bistro. All George Clooney suave hurrying toward a car early in the morning. You can thank me later for not letting E ruin your date, but don’t think I’m letting you out of this room before you tell me who she is.”
Growling affectionately, I drop a kiss on her curly red cloud of hair. “I see you still don’t have any subtlety, Avery. I can tell my brother’s got his hands full with you.”
She leans around me to look at Ethan. “I think he’s not giving me the details. You can fill me in later on what Eric’s really up to in Seattle, E. There’s more to it than working on his music before he returns to LA.”
“Much more,” Ethan concurs.
Avery nods, and I can tell how she’s beaming at my brother is all about how she feels for Ethan and not how familiar it feels that the two of them are giving me crap. My vision mists up, ’cause, hell, what guy wouldn’t be over the moon to have his brother so happy and with a girl as incredible as Avery?
My gaze moves back and forth between them. “I can’t believe you’re finally married. And, whoa, you have a kid. You work fast, Ethan, when you get your butt in gear.”
“Easier to get in gear when you’re not in my way,” he taunts, shoving me, and I push back, laughing. Even our old rivalry feels terrific now, as if all the walls that sprang up between us over the years are only dust.
“How long can you stay?” I ask.
Ethan looks at Avery then shrugs. “We roll without a plan since Noah was born.”
“Good. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” Smiling, I gesture to Avery to hand me my nephew. I lift him above my face, studying Noah’s long golden lashes and big blue eyes, just like Hana had at this age. “I need to get to know this little guy.”
I cuddle him to my chest, and Avery’s head tilts as her eyes brighten. “You really need to stop that, Eric. If you keep on with the being a softie routine I think I’m going to cry again.”
I laugh. “No routine. I missed you guys.”
Ethan’s choked up again, and I can tell my newfound openness about my feelings is something he’s still adjusting to. “I’ve missed you, Eric. We’re staying as long as you want us to.”
“That’s fine by me.” I bring my face close to the baby’s. “Is it fine by you, Noah? Hanging with your Uncle Eric for a while?”
“Wait, isn’t that something you should ask me?” Avery protests, her eyes twinkling.
“We’re going to be buds, Noah. There’s no stopping it.” From the clock on the wall, I notice the time. After kissing Noah on the head, I return him to Avery. “But I’ve gotta cut out now. I’ve got an appointment. There’s somewhere I need to be.”
Ethan’s brows hitch up. “You kicking us out already?”
“No, you can stay with Hank if you want to, but I’ve got to leave. I shouldn’t be too late if you want to meet up on the roof later and hang.”
“Whoa, I can’t believe you remember that,” Ethan says, blown away. I’m sure he thought I wasn’t the sentimental type. I’ve kept hidden a lot of parts of me from too many, too well it seems.
“We had epic times up there, didn’t we, Ethan?”
Avery perks up. “What? Did you two go up there to have parties and hook up with the band groupies?”
“Nothing so sordid, Avery,” Ethan explains. “The roof just kinda used to be our spot in this hotel. We’d go there to write music and talk.”
“You forgot the free concerts we’d hold for Seattle.”
Avery purses her lips. “Don’t try to feed me a line. You don’t need to if you want to go reminisce about your wild years in the band together without me there. That is so long as reminiscing is all you do.”
“Parties and romancing groupies are a thing of the past for me, Avery.” I’m standing and smiling down at her. “I’m practically an altar boy these days.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
They exchange looks.
Avery stares at me. “Who’s the girl?”
I flush, wondering what gave me away. “Just a friend.”
“Do you buy that, E?”
“Nope, I don’t. He’s met someone. That’s why he’s been in Seattle so long.”
Avery’s gaze fixes on me knowingly. “When are we going to meet her, Eric?”
I can tell it’s pointless to try to keep this private. I’m grinning like a fool. “Not today. I’m taking things slow. Tonight’s only our second date.” I can’t stop myself from winking at my sister-in-law and adding, “But it’s going well. I’m thinking it won’t be long before the family meets Willow.”
“Willow, huh?” Avery assesses me then smirks. “Don’t plan on meeting up with your b
rother tonight, Ethan. Going slow and Eric—not happening. Not by how he looks when he says her name. Something tells me we’re not seeing him until morning.”
“You’re wrong, Avery,” I counter.
She lifts her chin. “We’ll see.”
Inwardly I groan. Being pushed to pull out the stops with Willow is the last thing I need. It’s hard enough to hold back as it is.
“Can we finish this later?” I say. “I need to make a stop in Hank’s room. I’m sure he’s got a few questions for me after being blindsided by the two of you. Then I need to shower and change, or I’m going to be late.”
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU didn’t tell me that I’ve been hanging out for the past year with an internationally famous rock star,” Hank grumbles, his arms crossed as he glares at me. “The honesty thing is a two-way street. I’ve told you all my shit. It hurts that you thought you couldn’t trust me with yours.”
“It’s not like that, buddy.” I lean forward, elbows on knees as I meet his gaze directly. “My not being direct about who I really am isn’t about me or you or our friendship. It’s about all the complicated bullshit that comes my way the second people learn who I am. It’s tabloids and reporters and being hunted down for a story. Why do you think my family checked me into the rehab center under a fake name? To keep the press off me until I’m done doing what I have to before I go home.”
“You need to trust the higher power, even with the hard stuff, EJ. You can’t cheat recovery and stay sober. It’s when we’re honest with ourselves and others that things work out. That’s when we stop creating the shit we did as addicts. When we live a totally honest life. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
That makes me think of Willow. “You’re right. I’m working on that one still. And it’s been murder not being honest with you, and I did plan to tell you everything…eventually. No more secrets between us. Never again.”
