Our dad is sitting on a couch in the back room, his phone out. When he sees us come in, he shoves it into his pocket, looking every bit as uncomfortable as he did in the hallway earlier.
“Thanks for coming back,” he says, not meeting anyone’s eye.
“It’s fine,” Lennon tells him, and it takes everything in me not to grunt in disagreement. It’s been a damn good night and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let him ruin it by turning me back into a childish bastard.
“You guys played a great show,” Dad says, gesturing at the other couches and chairs in the room. My brothers sit but I stay put in my spot near the door, not wanting to get comfortable. I want this to be fast.
“Thanks,” Cash says, still sounding enthusiastic. “I think it went pretty good for a first night.”
“Definitely,” Lennon agrees.
“Need a little work on that second chorus of “Outside,”” Daltrey says, and Dad’s lips twitch.
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
They all laugh and a sharp stab of anger shoots through me. Are they seriously doing this? Laughing with him about the show like everything is fine?
“What’s this about?” I ask, not bothering to keep my voice light. They all stop laughing, turning to look at me, Lennon and Daltrey wary, Cash annoyed. I can’t read the look in my dad’s eye.
He clears his throat.
“I wanted to let you boys know that I talked to your mother last night.”
The room seems to go eerily silent, a heaviness settling over my shoulders that I know my brothers can feel as well.
“Why?” Cash finally asks, voice higher than normal.
“She called me,” Dad says, meeting Cash’s gaze. “I wanted you to know it happened and I want to tell you about our discussion. But we don’t have to get into all the details right now.”
“Dad—” Cash starts to argue, but he holds his hands up.
“You’re all tired. You’re on a high from the show. I don’t want to drag you down. We can talk about it tomorrow, or later in the week if you want. I just wanted you to know about it, because I don’t want to keep these things from you anymore.”
“Little late for that, don’t you think?” I ask, earning a glare from Lennon. My dad merely closes his eyes, briefly, before ignoring me.
“So we could have lunch or something this week, talk about it,” he goes on. “Or just a meeting, if you’d rather—”
“How about you just tell us now?” I ask. Does he actually think we’re going to—what? Get together for a chummy lunch date? Fuck that.
“That’s fine too,” he says, and I can tell he’s intentionally trying to keep his voice patient. It makes me feel bratty, childish, but I cross my arms, glaring at him. “It’s completely up to you boys.”
Cash looks from Lennon to Daltrey, raising his eyebrows. All three of them ignore me. “I would rather just talk about it now,” Cash says, the others nodding.
“Okay then.” Dad takes a deep breath. “She wanted to let me know that she’s going to be in southern California for a while.”
Something very much like fear creeps into my stomach, nearly eclipsing the annoyance I feel towards our dad. “She’s here?” Daltrey asks, his voice sounding strangled.
“She is.” Dad looks between the three boys sitting around him. “Apparently she’s showing some art work at a gallery in San Diego. She might be in town for a few weeks…maybe longer.”
“Shit,” Cash mutters, rubbing his hands over his face. “Does she…does she want to see us? Is that why she called? To set something up?”
Dad is shaking his head before Cash is even finished. “Anything like that is completely up to you. She just wanted to let me know in case one of you wanted to contact her again—”
“Hang on,” I say, frowning. “What do you mean, again?”
Dad looks awkward now. “She said she heard from one of you.”
He obviously isn’t going to tell me which one. I turn to Lennon, more pissed than I can express. “You contacted her again?”
He holds up his hands. “No. I haven’t seen her since I went to her house. Like I told you.”
The room is very quiet for a moment before Daltrey clears his throat. “I sent her a letter,” he says, eyes on the floor.
“What?”
He won’t meet my eyes. “I just…fuck, Reed. I don’t know. I just wanted to tell her some stuff.”
I stare at him. I can’t believe that he would do this. He was just as worked up as anyone when Lennon went to see her without telling any of us, choosing to bring Haylee with him instead of his brothers. And now Daltrey is sending her letters?
“You didn’t think to mention it to us?” I ask, hating the shake I hear in my voice. Daltrey must hear it too because he winces.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice low. “After Rose was born I was feeling a lot of…I don’t know.” He rubs at his face. “I don’t know, man. I just felt like I wanted to write her.”
“But you couldn’t talk to us.” My voice is getting louder, and I know I’m close to losing that weak grip I have on my anger. “That’s bullshit, Daltrey.”
“Leave him alone,” Cash says. While Daltrey is still looking at the floor, Cash meets my gaze, his expression hard to read. “I wrote her too.”
I actually have to sit down. If I don’t I’m pretty sure my legs are going to give out. I sink into the nearest chair, staring at him, and his expression suddenly makes sense. It’s pity.
“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you, Reed,” he says. “It felt pretty damn personal.”
I reel back a little, feeling almost like he’d hit me. I think I would have rather have him hit me—I bet it would hurt a lot less.
Cash makes a sympathetic face, and I wonder if he can read my mind. “I didn’t mean it like that—of course I can tell you personal stuff, but—”
“But you didn’t,” I say, voice shaking. “You didn’t tell me this.”
He shakes his head, the pity giving way a bit for exasperation. “I’m sorry, man, but you haven’t exactly made it easy to talk to you these last few months.”
“What are you—”
“Come on, Reed!” He throws up his hands. “You’re mad about everything. You’re constantly in a bad mood. You even snap at Paige half the time! No one can even mention Dad around you without you getting pissed. You think I wanted to casually bring up Mom?”
My stomach is churning, a burning feeling in my chest. I don’t know if I should be pissed or hurt or feel ashamed and I can’t seem to hang onto any coherent thought—except for one. I want to get the hell out of this room.
I stand, crossing to the door, but before I can open it, Lennon is standing in front of me, his eyes fiery.
“Go sit down.”
“Get out of my way, Lennon.”
He slams his open palm into the doorframe, the movement so sudden and violent that I jump. “No, Reed!” Lennon doesn’t yell all that often so when he does, it tends to have a strong effect. “This is exactly what Cash is talking about! We can’t talk to you about stuff because you do this. Get pissed, storm off, get sullen—you need to knock it off.”
Dad clears his throat behind us. “Maybe it would be easier for you to talk about this if I go.”
“No,” Lennon says, his voice low, fierce. “We’re all in this family. And we need to start dealing with shit. Together.”
I have a sudden image of Lennon in that London hotel room, the day everything hit the fan and we found out about our Mom. “We don’t talk about stuff,” he’d said. “And I want us to be different. If I’m going to get better, we need to be different.”
This is what he meant, I tell myself, meeting his eyes. And I had promised him I would try. So I nod, once, and go back to my seat.
The room is silent for a long moment before Daltrey finally looks up, his eyes searching mine. “I think, in some ways, it was easier for me,” he says, his voice little more than a whisper. “Becaus
e I was so young when it happened.”
I stare at him. “Are you kidding me? That makes it worse. You were tiny.”
He shrugs. “I don’t remember her the same way you guys do. Besides—I had Daisy.” I picture the two of them, completely inseparable from the day they met, two little kids who both lost their mothers too early. “It was probably hardest on you, Reed. Because you were old enough to understand it. And because you had to take care of us all so much.”
I look away, not wanting to take the chance of meeting Dad’s eyes.
Cash clears his throat. “My therapist always told me I have a lot of pent up anger at her,” he says. “I thought it was bullshit—I was happy enough with what we had, you know?” He shakes his head. “But when Lennon went to see her, when we found out what she did…” he trails off before clearing his throat again. “I realized I was mad, really mad.” He gives me a lopsided little smile, the expression so familiar, and I suddenly feel a bit better. “My letter was pretty much just me unloading on her.” He shrugs. “Dropped a lot of f-bombs. Probably wasn’t too fun to open that.”
“She deserved it,” I mutter, and he looks at me, his gaze steady and even.
“Wasn’t trying to go behind your back, man.”
I nod. “I’m sorry I’ve been so…you know.”
“Dickish?”
An unexpected laugh bursts from my lips. “Yeah. Dickish.” I turn to our Dad, taking a breath, wondering if I’ll ever be able to talk to him without this hot surge of anger. “So what now? Are we supposed to see her or—”
“You’re not supposed to do anything,” he says firmly. “I just wanted you to know, because I know. And it didn’t seem like a thing to keep from you.”
The surge of anger grows, like flames licking against my ribs. “If you think you’re going to get back on our good side by—”
“Damn it, Reed,” he mutters, finally losing his patience with me. “I know I screwed up, okay? You’re allowed to be mad. I’m not asking you to forgive me, kid. I’m just trying to learn from my mistakes.”
No one says anything for a long moment. Again I’m feeling that battle inside, knowing I’m being a brat but unable to let go of my anger. What he says makes perfect sense—people should be commended for learning from their mistakes. So why does it make me want to punch his face?
“Thanks, Dad,” Cash mutters. “For telling us.”
Dad sighs, looking very tired all of a sudden. And old. “It’s not a problem.” He meets Cash’s eyes, then Daltrey’s. “If you did want to see her, that would be up to you.” I notice both of their eyes flickering toward me and I look away, all of it feeling like too much. “I have her number now, so…like I said, it’s up to you.” Dad turns to Lennon. “You too.”
“I think once was enough for a good long while,” he mutters.
“That’s fine.” Now Dad looks at me. “Whatever any of you want is fine.”
I finally let myself meet his eyes and God, it feels like an iron band is wrapping itself around my chest. I don’t really know what I’m feeling, or what I want in this moment. So I nod and turn away again.
“I am sorry to throw this at you tonight,” Dad says, standing. The other boys follow suit. “It was a really great show.”
“Next one will be just as good,” Cash says, reaching out a hand to fist bump our dad. Dad just looks at his outstretched fist for a long moment, like he isn’t sure it’s real, before responding in kind.
“I’m sure it will.” He meets Cash’s eye. “How’s Sam doing?”
Cash grins and I feel another lurch of my stomach. He told Dad about the baby. “She’s great. Just finished the internship and Wyatt is almost done with school so they’ll be moving down soon.”
“That’s great, Son.”
That same feeling of betrayal is pressing on my chest again and I don’t know why. Why should I care that Cash talked to his own father about the baby? Now my brother is laughing, telling Dad about how Sam is refusing to find out about the sex of the baby, and all the plans he and Wyatt are making to try to change her mind. Dad laughs with him and that pressing feeling on my chest feels worse.
Why does it feel so awful to know that I’m the only one that seems so hung up on this?
“And Rose?” Dad goes on, turning to Daltrey.
“Perfect.” Dalt shakes his head, like he still can’t quite believe it. “We think she might be getting her first tooth. Girl puts everything in her mouth.”
Dad laughs. “You were the same way at that age. Reed called you a drooling monster.”
That does it. I can’t push this feeling down anymore, can’t control it. Hell, I don’t even understand it. So I stand, heading towards the door. “I’m going to get Paige home,” I say over my shoulder, trying like hell to keep my voice even. “See you guys at practice.”
Their easy responses follow me out the door but I don’t take any of them in. Paige is waiting for me across the room, right by the exit, like she knew I was going to want to get the hell out of here, and I feel so grateful for her in this moment my knees feel weak.
“You good?” she asks as I take her hand.
“Sure,” I mutter, even though it’s nowhere near the truth. “I’m good.”
Lennon
Sometimes I have a hard time believing that this is my life. That I can lie here on the couch with Haylee, not doing much of anything, just chilling together, and be this happy. This content and peaceful. For someone who’s lived much of his life plagued by stomach-twisting anxiety, the absence of worry is kind of strange. But really damn nice.
“Reliving the glory of the first week of shows?” Haylee asks, her voice a little raspy. She’s been rehearsing a lot lately.
“Nope.”
“What you thinking about then?” she murmurs, kissing my shoulder.
I run my fingers through a thick lock of her hair, feeling the softness of it against my skin. I freaking love her hair. Love pretty much everything about her. Which is why I answer her honestly. “I’m thinking about how you shouldn’t go on this tour.”
I can’t see her face where it’s nestled against my arm, but somehow I still know she’s rolling her eyes. I laugh, trailing the end of the lock of hair over my lips. “Kidding. You know I’m stoked for you guys.” I roll over so I’m on top of her, capturing her mouth in a kiss. “What I was really thinking about was how to convince you to skip band practice.”
She grins up at me, a little breathless, and my chest constricts at the knowledge that I’m the one to make her happy. The one to take her breath away with my kisses.
“Band practice is very important,” she says. “I don’t think I would want to skip it without a very good reason.”
“I’ll give you a reason,” I mutter, lips moving to her neck, and she laughs, swatting at my chest.
“You know I have to leave soon.”
“No you don’t,” I mumble into her skin. “You have to stay right here.”
“Don’t you have practice today too?” she asks.
“Nope. I’m free all day. Which is why you should stay here with me.”
Before she can argue, my phone rings on the coffee table. Haylee shifts a little so she can see the screen. “Cash,” she tells me, letting her fingers drift up to my hair. “Want to get it?”
“Yeah,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I definitely want to talk to my idiot brother instead of make out with you.”
She tightens her fingers in my hair, grinning. “Who says I was going to make out with you? I have to get ready to go.”
“I thought we already determined that you were skipping.”
“You do know that I’m the singer, right?” she says, as the phone finally stops ringing. “It’s kind of necessary for me to be there.”
“Of course I know you’re the singer.” I return my attention to the soft skin of her neck. “It’s sexy as hell.”
She moans a little at the feel of my lips on her skin and I start to think I might actually succeed in
convincing her to stay. Then my phone rings again.
“Still Cash,” Haylee says, and I groan loudly.
“Hit decline.”
“What if he needs you?”
I pull myself up onto my elbows so I can look down on her. “He probably just wants to check in. Like he does every damn day. I thought he might stop now that we’re all working again.”
She smiles up at me. “It’s sweet. He’s trying to be emotionally available.” When I roll my eyes, her smile grows. “Which I’m pretty sure is what you asked them all to do.”
I make a grumbling noise. “If I knew he was going to bug me all the time, I never would have said that.”
“How’s he doing with everything?” Haylee asks, and I bite back a groan. I had been so close to getting her to let go. And now we’re going to have to talk about my brother.
“I think he’s doing okay,” I say. “The shock seems to be wearing off.”
“And Sam and Wyatt will be here soon?”
I nod. “Once school gets out.”
“What about the rest of them?” she asks, absently playing with the hem on the neck of my t-shirt. “Reed still pissed at the world?”
I sigh, rolling onto my back and bringing her with me so she’s once again settled on my chest. “I don’t know why he can’t just let it go.” I pause for a second, thinking that over. “Probably because he won’t talk about it. But that’s Reed.”
“Might be nice if he borrowed some of Cash’s emotional availability, huh?”
I grunt. “He’s always like this with problems. Thinks if he just puts his head down and gets to work he can make everything come out the way he wants.”
She’s quiet for a moment and I can feel her eyes on me, studying me. “You feel guilty.”
I blow out a breath. “Of course I feel guilty.”
“Lennon—”
“I can tell myself it’s not my fault all day long, Hay. It doesn’t change how I feel though. If I hadn’t gone to see Mom—”
“Baby, you’re not the one who lied to your brothers about the reasons for her leaving. That’s on your dad. The truth was going to come out, eventually.”
The Ransome Brothers_A Ransom Novel Page 22
