“When did that happen?” I ask, my throat feeling tight. “When did you…get clean?”
She blows out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair. Her hands, at least, look the same, her fingers long and elegant. Daltrey’s fingers. And Rose’s, now.
“About ten years ago,” she says, her voice little more than a whisper.
So she was still doing drugs for eight years after she left. Jesus. I wonder what those years would have been like for her. Did she try to quit before? Was she in and out of treatment? What did she do for money? Where did she live?
“It’s okay to be angry,” she finally says when the silence has stretched on for an awkward beat, offering me a nervous smile.
“Was Lennon angry?” I ask, and she sucks in a breath, her eyes looking pained. She nods.
“Not as angry as Cash,” she says softly. “In his letter, I mean. He…well. He cursed quite a bit.”
I feel a rush of affection for my brother so strong it makes my breath catch. “Sounds like Cash,” I mutter and Dad laughs.
“He still has a temper?” she asks, her voice hungry, like she’s desperate to know this one small thing about him.
“He does.” I pause. “Well, it’s better now. With Sam.” She nods, the name drawing no reaction, and I wonder how much she knows about us, how much she’s followed. You can find out a lot of information about us just by looking online or through a gossip magazine. But those are just facts, trivia. You still wouldn’t know us, not really.
“Do you like her?” she asks, her voice a whisper. “Sam?”
“Sam is great,” I say. “She’s great for Cash.” I look over at my dad, wondering if I should mention the baby or Wyatt, wondering what right I have to share the details of his life with her. He shrugs a little and I look back to her. “He’s happy.”
She looks indecisive for a minute, like she doesn’t know whether to ask her next question, but it comes barreling out of her, like she can’t keep it in. “And Daltrey? Lennon? Are they happy?”
“Daltrey’s doing real good.” There’s a lump in my throat. “It’s been hard for Lennon. What you did to him has been really hard.”
Her face crumples a little, but she doesn’t drop my gaze. “I know.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think you do. I didn’t even know, and I was there with him all these years.”
“Reed, I—”
“He hurt himself. We could have lost him. Did you know that?”
She draws in a shuddering gasp, her eyes going to my dad but he’s looking at the floor.
“No,” she whispers. “I didn’t.”
There are tears in her eyes, her face stricken, and I wonder if there’s anything she could ever possibly say to me that would help, that would make any of it better. “You said I can ask you anything?”
She nods, wiping her eyes, and she looks terrified, like I have the power to break her with whatever question comes out of my mouth.
“Did you think about us?”
“Of course I did. Every day. All the time.”
I nod, knowing it’s the truth. Wondering if it matters. “I used to imagine running into you,” I tell her. “Or finding you, somehow. Or you finding us.”
She nods, the tears falling now. “I imagined that too.”
“Yeah?” I cross my arms, feeling like I need to do something to hold myself together. “What did you imagine you’d say?”
She wipes at her face, her shoulders straightening a little. “I would tell you how sorry I was. I know I could never say it enough, could never make you understand just how much I regretted it. I would tell you that I hope you’re happy, that I hope you have a full and good life. And I would tell you that I never stopped loving you, not for a minute.”
I take in a deep, ragged breath, letting those words wash over me. It’s pretty close to what I always wanted to hear, to be honest. So why doesn’t it make me feel better? Why doesn’t it fix those empty, broken places inside?
I watch her for a long moment while she wipes at her tears, trying to get herself under control, and it hits me in a sudden rush. She can’t fix me, because I don’t know her. She’s not the same woman I remember from all those years ago and I’m not the same boy she left behind. We’ve both changed, so much, the years and our experiences bringing us farther and farther away from what we had been when we were still mother and son.
I expect the realization to break my heart, but it doesn’t. I expect to feel angry with her, for leaving, for Lennon, for all the years of silence, but I don’t. I just feel sad for her. Sad and so very sorry for this person who’s lived the last eighteen years without us.
“I want you to know something,” I tell her, my voice rough. I clear my throat. “It was really hard, a lot of the time, living without you.” She hangs her head but I push on, not wanting to hurt her but wanting her to understand. “But we got through it. We grew up, and we went to school and we learned how to play music—how to be really good at it. We worked hard, and we built a great career. And we all fell in love.” I see Paige in my mind, smiling at me so brightly in that way of hers that makes it seem like there’s an explosion of light before my eyes. My throat gets tight and I think I won’t be able to continue but then my dad is squeezing my shoulder again, and I can swallow through it. I need to say this. To both of them.
“My girlfriend is Paige. She’s the best thing in my life.” My mom’s hand goes to her mouth, and I don’t have any idea what she’s thinking. “She’s my family. She’s been there for me through so much, but that’s not what I love the best about her. I love how much she loves my brothers.” Mom’s crying again, wiping at the tears with shaking fingers. “We’ve built this family, Mom, me and the boys and these women that we love, and it’s so good. Even though we fight all the time and we work too hard and get on each other’s nerves.” I close my eyes. “Even though we’re all a little messed up about losing you. Even though it’s hard sometimes. We have a really, really great life.” I open my eyes and look over at my dad. He’s not looking at the floor anymore—his eyes are on me. And I realize right then that I never really needed to settle anything with the woman across from us. I needed to settle it with him.
“And the reason for all of that is Dad,” I tell her, my voice stronger now, my eyes still on his. He’s staring at me, his mouth open a little, uncertainty in his face. “He messed up sometimes, and we probably never made it easy on him. But he took really good care of us. And we’re so lucky to have had him.”
“I know you are,” she says, but I still don’t look over at her. She’s not the person in this room that matters to me. “He was always such a good father.”
He finally looks away and I know he’s trying not to cry. I reach over and squeeze his shoulder, hoping I’m giving him the same strength he gave me.
“I think that’s all I have to say.” My voice is calm, quiet, and that’s just how I feel. Like it’s all settled, this messy part of the past that hurt so much. I know nothing can take away that pain or fix the cracks from her leaving, know that a part of me will miss her for the rest of my life. But I also know what I said is true. We have a great life. And we all built it together.
I stand, both of my parents following suit, both of them watching me. “I hope your gallery showing goes well.”
“Thank you,” she says. “You could…you could come and see it? Maybe?”
“Maybe,” I say, sure that I won’t. Then again, who knows? Life can be pretty surprising sometimes.
When she walks us to the door, I see her hands reach out a little before balling into fists at her side. Her expression is one of longing and I take a deep breath before pulling her into a hug. She grips my shoulders, her fingers tight, and I close my eyes for a moment, letting the feel of her register, trying to reconcile it with my memories of her. When I open my eyes, I see my dad behind her, his eyes on me, and I know that I’ll be okay when I leave this room, whether I ever see her again or not.
“T
hank you, Reed,” she whispers into my ear. And then I’m releasing her, saying goodbye and following my dad out into the hallway. I realize then that he never really said anything to her the whole time we were in that room. But that’s not what it was about. Their relationship ended a long time ago, the day he chose us over her. He hadn’t come to settle his past with the woman he used to love. He came for me.
We’re quiet again on the way home, the traffic a little worse now as we get into the afternoon. I’m anxious to get back, anxious to get to Paige. Lennon texted me a bunch of times, letting me know that she’s okay, that she slept for a few hours, that Daisy and Karen and Levi are all there now. He sends me a picture of her room—Karen and Daisy apparently brought a bright blanket and balloons and streamers to cheer up the space. It makes me smile, thinking about how much Paige probably loves it. It’s exactly what she would have done for one of us.
“You hungry?” Dad asks when we’re nearing LA.
“Yeah,” I say, surprised that I actually am. It’s felt like such a long time since I’ve had any kind of appetite at all.
He looks over at me before his eyes flick back to the road. “I’m sure you want to get back to the hospital,” he says. “But I wonder… Could I take you somewhere first?”
“Sure,” I say, knowing Paige is in good hands.
“Good,” Dad says. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”
* * *
“This might be the weirdest bar I’ve ever been to,” I tell him, looking around at the pink and turquoise walls, at the dolphin paintings and the tin palm trees. “Did we accidentally drive to Florida?”
“You’re telling me,” he mutters, walking towards a booth near the back. We sit down and I pick up a plastic menu, but he waves his hands dismissively. “You want a burger. Trust me.”
“Okay.” I watch him as his eyes scan the bar. He looks really nervous, almost as nervous as he looked back at the hotel. Then his eyes land on something behind my back and his face softens. Oh, shit, I think, realizing that I haven’t seen that look on his face in almost two decades. My father is in love.
I have to turn around, I can’t help it. I see who he’s looking at right away—a woman behind the bar. She’s not at all what I expected when Cash told us about her. She’s short and wearing tight jeans, pixie haircut, a little jewel winking in her nose. Maybe she feels our gaze on her because she looks up, her eyes going right to his as they widen. She sets down the beer she’s holding and begins to walk towards us so I turn back to my dad.
His face has gone tight, his posture rigid. He looks freaking terrified. “Breathe, Dad,” I mutter and then she’s there at the side of our table.
“Will.” Her voice is strained. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
He swallows once and then again. “I know,” he finally manages to say. “But I wanted you to meet someone.” He gestures over at me and she startles a little, like she hadn’t noticed I was there. “This is my son, Reed. My oldest.”
Her face softens as she looks down at me, and then back to him. I have no idea what this weird tension is between them but it’s pretty obvious this meeting means something to her. To them. So I stand and hold out my hand. “It’s really nice to meet you, Ruby.”
She shakes my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Your father talks about you all the time.”
“Yeah?” I look over at him to see that he’s staring at our still-entwined hands. If I’m not mistaken, the whole of their relationship has taken place while I’ve been a total asshole to him.
“Oh, yeah,” she says, grinning now. “He’s crazy about you boys.”
I grin back. “He’s crazy about you, too.”
Dad clears his throat so I release her hand. He stands. “Can we talk for a minute?”
She nods, looking flustered, and leads him over to an empty corner. I know I shouldn’t spy on them, but come on. This is completely new territory, seeing my dad worked up about a woman like this. I have to watch.
Ruby has her arms crossed while he talks, gesturing with his hands, his head close to hers. She nods a few times before finally patting his arm. Then she leaves him, walking towards the bar, and he heads back to our table, shoulders hunched.
“Everything okay?”
“She’s bringing out our food.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I probably screwed things up with her.”
“You should fix it then.”
He laughs, the sound a little bitter. “I’m certainly going to try.”
“You don’t sound so confident, Dad.”
His attention goes back to the bar. “I’m not good at this stuff.”
“You’re better than you think you are.” He meets my gaze, his eyebrows raised, expression disbelieving, and I laugh. “Okay, maybe you’re not. But I’m sure you could be better. If you really tried.” I pause. “If you tried really hard. Like, a lot.”
“Okay. Your point is made.”
Ruby comes back a few minutes later with to-go boxes and cans of Coke. “We’re not eating here?” I ask.
“I figured you’d want to get back to the hospital.”
I look from his face up to hers, wanting to tell him it’s fine, that we should invite Ruby to eat with us so he can get to work on the whole trying-really-hard thing, but at the mention of the hospital I’m seized with that anxious feeling, wanting to get back to Paige.
“You should go,” Ruby says, patting my arm. “I’m so glad to hear that your Paige is doing better.”
So he told her about Paige. I don’t know why that surprises me, but it does. “I’m glad, too,” I tell her, standing when my dad does. To my surprise, Ruby hugs me.
“Hang in there,” she says softly, and I feel a lump come to my throat. It only gets bigger when she releases me and I see how Dad is looking at her.
“Thank you,” I tell her, my voice thick with sincerity.
She smiles and says goodbye before heading back to the bar and I note that she doesn’t hug my dad.
“Maybe my advice to try really hard was a slight underestimation of the situation,” I tell him and he groans, pushing on my back to get me moving towards the door. “I think we’re going to need to call in the big guns. I’m talking Cash groveling to Sam level here.”
“I love you, Son,” he says, laughter in his voice as he pushes me again. “But shut the hell up.”
Cash
I pause in the doorway to Paige’s hospital room, smiling at the scene in front of me. In addition to the flowers that cover every available surface, someone hung up some streamers and bunches of balloons float in the corners of the room. Paige is sitting up in bed, a hot pink furry blanket over her legs, while she braids Karen’s hair. Levi is sitting in a chair by the window, his feet propped up, while Daisy and Lennon sit on either side of the bed. Everyone is laughing at something Paige says while music plays softly in the background, Daisy and Lennon clutching red plastic cups, Karen and Levi snacking on chips and M&Ms.
Leave it to Paige to turn a terrifying hospital stay into what looks like a pretty decent party.
She looks up then and sees me, the smile on her face growing. “Cash! Did you bring me flowers?”
I bring the bouquet over to her bedside, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” I ask.
She makes a face. “I’m sick of resting. I’m bored out of my mind.”
I laugh. “The fact that this festive atmosphere coincides with Reed’s absence is just a coincidence, right?”
Her expression turns sheepish. “If he asks, I rested here in bed all day like a good girl.”
I make a crossing motion over my heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
“Here, Cash,” Daisy says, handing me a plastic cup. “Mimosa.”
“We’re drinking mimosas?” I ask. “I would have dressed up if I knew this was a fancy party.”
Daisy laughs, but I know her well e
nough to see the worry in her eyes when they flick over to Paige. I doubt that worry is going to go away for a long time. “We used sparkling juice instead of champagne,” she explains. “But mimosas are Paige’s favorite.”
“Because they’re yummy,” Paige says, taking a swig of hers before attaching a hair tie to the end of Karen’s braid. “Okay, Karen, you’re all set. Who’s next?”
She raises her eyebrows at Lennon and he laughs. “You’re not braiding my hair, Paige.”
“Lennon,” she whines. “I almost died.”
I make a sound halfway between a snort of shock and a laugh while Karen crosses her arms, glaring at her best friend. “You do not get to use that to get what you want for the rest of our lives,” she says.
“I don’t know,” Lennon argues, standing and nudging Karen from her spot on the bed. “It’s pretty effective.” He shakes his longish hair out of his face. “Do your worst, woman.”
She claps her hands. “Yay! You Ransome boys all have such pretty hair and Reed hardly ever lets me play with his.”
“But he lets you sometimes?” Levi asks, his eyebrows raised. “You take pictures of this, right?”
“Where is my esteemed older brother?” I ask. “Last I heard he refused to leave your side.”
Paige’s face softens. “Your dad and Lennon got him to go home to rest for a bit,” she says. “He could barely keep his eyes open.”
I meet her eyes. “You scared him pretty good.”
She nods, looking grave now. “I know. He’s still pretty freaked out about it.” Then the song on the radio changes and her face lights up. “Oooh, I love this song. Turn it up, Levi.”
I pull a chair over to the bed and sit down, drinking my mimosa while Paige chatters about the show scheduled for tomorrow night. “I know they won’t let me leave by then,” she says, grumpy. “I can’t believe I’m going to miss another concert.”
“You’ve seen us hundreds of times, Paige,” Lennon points out.
“That doesn’t matter!” She sounds outraged. “I hate missing shows.”
The Ransome Brothers_A Ransom Novel Page 31
