"You know that’ll mean staying in Texas until September, right?" He pulls a handful of peanuts out of a bowl on the table and starts shelling one. "And it’ll mean being around Tammy, ‘cause I don’t see her missing this tour for anything. She’s got her hooks in now, and you know how she is when she manages. She’ll want to be there to control every little detail. If she’s weren’t so damn good at it, I’d make Jenny fire her ass. Tammy’ll drive me crazy for the next four months."
"But she is good, and that’s why you’re going to quit giving her so much crap and let her do her job." I pause and give him a hard look. This is Tammy we’re talking about. My girl. Whether officially or not, she’ll always be my girl. "Right?"
"God, Walsh, you give me a headache. First you hate her, and miss her, and hate her again. Then you don’t want her here. Now you’re defending her and insisting I keep her where you’ll have to see her every day. I wish you two would hurry up and figure it out before you drive the rest of us completely fucking insane."
"Says the guy who’s doing everything he can not to get it on with the preacher’s daughter he’s obviously crazy about. Pot, have you met kettle?"
Mike shakes his head and shells another peanut as he pops the first one into his mouth. "So you, me, and Tammy out on the road? It’s a regular reunion. All we need is Joss and Colin and it’ll be Lush version 2.0."
"Would that be so terrible?" I ask, surprising even myself with the question.
Mike looks at the beer mug then at the peanut shells on the table. I can feel the indecision rolling off of him, the trepidation I feel too when it comes to thoughts of Lush—my band, my brothers—our past and our future all colliding in a heap.
"I’m not sure, man," he answers quietly. "I’m just not sure."
Tammy
I’M SPENDING the week in Austin, lining up appearances for Jenny. She has to work this week, but now that she’s been signed by several big Dallas clubs, I can play her recordings and give them headshots and they’ll take her based on that. Amazing what a few strategic contracts in hand can do.
Austin’s a pretty city, green and vibrant. It reminds me a little of Portland. And of course it’s one of the live-music capitals of the world. There are so many clubs that sifting through them to find the best is a challenge. I spend a lot of time on the phone with band managers who I know are snobs and gossips so I can get the scoop. It’s worth it though. As the week is drawing to an end, I’ve got Jenny scheduled all the way through the end of July, sometimes on Friday and Saturday nights. Once I get a few more shows set up in August, she’ll have a full summer tour.
I’m driving back to the hotel I’m staying at, thinking about promo items—a tour title for a banner and flyers—when my phone rings and I see Mel’s name pop up.
"Hey there," I say, really happy to hear her voice for the first time in several days. "What’s up?"
"Where are you?" she asks evasively.
"Driving a car in Austin. I’ve been setting up venues for Jenny’s summer tour."
"Cool." Then there’s an awkward pause.
"What’s going on Mel?"
"Can you pull over? I mean, park for a minute?"
"Shit. You’re scaring me. Are Mom and Dad okay?"
"Yes. They’re fine. It’s nothing like that, but I think you shouldn’t be driving for this conversation."
"All right," I mutter as I pull over and turn into an office parking lot. "I’m stopped. Now what it is?"
"Well, you know Joss and I have been seeing each other again…"
"Yeah, and you said everything’s been going well. He’s planning to go to Seattle with you this summer while you finish your last class, right?"
"Yeah. We’ve rented a place starting next month. It’s all good." There’s another one of those uncomfortable pauses. "It’s really good, as a matter of fact."
"Jesus, Mel. Out with it."
"We’re getting married, Tammy. Joss asked me to marry him."
I stop breathing for a minute, my lungs racing to catch up with my mind. Then I just try to digest it. My sister is marrying the man I cheated on Walsh with. I’ll sit across from him at every Thanksgiving and Christmas for the next few decades. He’ll be the father of my nieces and nephews. He’ll be my parents’ son-in-law. He’ll be my brother.
And I try to imagine it, and oddly, it’s not difficult. Not at all.
Joss Jamison has been an integral part of my life since I was fourteen. He and Walsh and Mike were a package deal, and Joss was one of my nearest and dearest friends for years. He’s been so ingrained in my life for so long that I don’t have any trouble picturing him ingrained in it far into the future. Joss is a good guy. He and I just needed help with Walsh and we didn’t get it. I realize that now. How much the caretakers of an alcoholic need help too. How we were too young and too alone to deal with Walsh’s disease.
"Tammy?" Mel’s voice is unsure.
"Yes, I’m here. Sorry. I was just processing. And Mel? I’m happy for you."
"Really?" she asks. I can hear the tears sitting on the edge of her voice. This must have been so hard for her to do.
"Yes, sweetie. Really. You know Joss and I were always good friends. What happened is over and done, and I forgive him, just like I’ve had to forgive myself. He loves you so much, Mel. Just you. You know that, don’t you?"
"Yeah, I think I do," she says, and this time I can hear a smile. "He’s kind of fantastic, Tam."
"So have you told Mom and Dad?"
"They’re next on my list. Joss wants to go with me and tell them together."
"They’ve always loved Joss. I’m sure they’ll be thrilled."
"I hope so. And you know, there’s someone else we want to tell. Someone who’s really important to both of us and we want to tell him in person. We want his blessing if we can get it."
I know she means Walsh, and I can’t predict how he’s going to take it. We haven’t talked about how he feels toward Joss at this point. He’s so unpredictable that it’s anyone’s guess.
"Joss—he needs to see Walsh. You know? He just can’t bear to think that it’ll be left like it was in California. It’s the last thing weighing him down. I don’t want to push Walsh when he’s still struggling, but Joss needs this so much."
I haven’t told my sister that Walsh fell off the wagon. I haven’t told anyone. I feel like it’s not my secret to tell. I’m so scared that he’ll do it again though. I don’t know if he can handle seeing Joss like this.
"I’m not sure, Mel. This may not be the best time—"
"There’s never going to be a good time. The longer it goes, the harder it’ll be for them to reconnect. Their friendship might not ever be the same again, but maybe they can find some sort of common ground, you know?"
I sigh heavily, but then I remember Walsh in the parking lot of the diner, telling Mike and me to stop planning his life for him. I think about all the years I’ve tried to fix things for him and what an utter failure it’s been. I know Walsh wouldn’t want me to decide this for him. He’s an adult. He has the right to have this discussion with Mel and Joss himself.
"You know what? I think you need to ask Walsh what he wants. Give him a call. Talk to him about it. I can’t speak for him, and more importantly, I shouldn’t."
"Okay," Mel replies. "You’re right. I’m sorry if it seemed like I was putting you in the middle."
"It’s fine. Getting used to the new normal is hard I’m finding that out in spades, little sister."
"How are you? Are you really okay?"
I sit looking out the windshield, and in my mind, I picture Walsh, skin slicked with sweat, muscles bunching as he pushes the heavy mower up and down Mrs. Stallworth’s yard. I crave him. It’s as simple as that. And like an alcoholic craves a drink, I’m not sure my craving for Walsh will ever subside. Also like an alcoholic, I’m not sure if the craving is very healthy for me. Sometimes I think loving Walsh Clark might have ruined me forever.
I sigh deeply. "I’m o
kay, Mel. I promise. It’s hard, and I’m confused—about a lot—but I’m not depressed, and I’m not denying things. I’m just…a little lost still."
Her voice gets quiet. "You’re going to be okay. You know that, don’t you? No matter what else happens, Tammy, you are going to be okay."
I nod to myself, feeling the weight and the truth of her words move through me. "You’re right. I am. I know that now. I didn’t when I came here, but I’ve learned some things this last month, and you’re right."
"Good," she says as if it’s decided. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Walsh
I’VE BEEN building fencing all day, making new pens for the calves that’ll be rounded up and brought in for auction in a few weeks. It’s nearly six thirty when I finally knock off. I stripped my shirt off hours ago, and I can feel that I’ve gotten a sunburn on my back. Summer’s almost here, and the Texas sun is getting more intense.
I wipe the back of my neck with my t-shirt and open up the door to the truck to pull out a new, clean shirt. Mrs. S. will have my hide if I walk in the house half dressed, so I’ve learned to carry spares with me.
My cell phone is sitting on the seat, and I pick it up and swipe the screen. I‘ve missed a call from Melanie DiLorenzo. My heart races as I imagine Tammy lying in a ditch somewhere, that red Mustang a pile of twisted metal around her. Fingers shaking, I tap the screen and put the phone to my ear to listen to the message Mel’s left.
"Hi, Walsh, it’s Mel. I’m wondering if you can give me a call as soon as possible. It’s important. Thanks."
I jab at the screen, trying to get the damn thing to ring Mel back. My heart is racing and it’s hard to breathe. If something’s happened to Tammy, I’m not sure I can go on. Not seeing her is one thing, but not having her in the world is another. I can’t bear that. Knowing that she’s out there somewhere, living, breathing, existing on the same planet as I do is something that’s gotten me by on many a rough night. If anything happens to her, I’m really fucking scared of what might happen to me.
"Hello, Walsh?" Mel answers on the other end.
"Yeah, hey. Is everything all right? I mean, did you hear from Tammy or something?"
"Yeah. I just talked to her this afternoon. She’s in Austin, getting gigs for that girl you guys met."
The air leaves my lungs in a whoosh, and I sit on the edge of the doorframe to the car, struggling to regain my composure.
"Okay," I say shakily. "So, um, what’s up?"
"Are you okay, Walsh?" she asks, concern oozing through the phone line.
I gulp air like it’s going out of style. "Yeah, yeah. Just finished work. I’m a little out of breath."
"Oh, okay." She seems utterly placated by this lie on my part. "Listen, I have something I want to talk to you about, and I’d like you to keep an open mind and just hear me out."
"Go for it, Little D. You know I’m always here for you."
"Thanks." She pauses, and I can visualize her collecting herself."It’s been almost a year now, Walsh. And, um, we—Joss and I—we’d like to see you." She rushes on, obviously nervous about this idea. "He would have called you himself, but he was afraid you wouldn’t answer. We just thought we could come there for a day or two, see Tammy, and maybe get a cup of coffee or something."
"A cup of coffee, huh?" I answer, surprised that I don’t feel rage and resentment at their request. I don’t feel much of anything, actually. "It’s a long ways to come for a cup of coffee. I got to say too, Mel, the coffee out here isn’t much. I mean, you live in Portland for fuck’s sake—coffee kingdom. You’re bound to be disappointed with the Folgers they serve here."
"Walsh…" she sighs.
"What exactly is this coffee date about anyway?" I ask.
"There’s something we’d like to share with you, and we’d also just really like to see you. Can you please let us do that?" Her voice slips even lower. "He misses you so much," she nearly whispers.
My chest tightens. I miss him too. The guy I thought he was. The guy I spent most of my life with. The man who slept with Tammy? Not so much. I can’t help but wonder which of them I’ll get when we go for coffee.
I don’t have it in me to battle this crap anymore though. If any of us are ever going to move on, we need to face it. All of it. I’ve made a promise to stop denying shit, and things with Joss were definitely left in a state of total and utter shit.
"Yeah, okay," I tell her. "Come on down. We’ll get coffee—or something."
Her relief is nearly palpable. "Thank you, Walsh. Thank you so much. I’ll email you when we get our flight reservations."
"Yep. I’ll look for it."
"I can’t wait to see you," she tells me. I believe her.
"Talk to you soon, Little D."
We hang up, and I just sit there for a few more minutes as the sun sets and the dogs bark at the noises that make up a ranch. It’s strange how I’ve gotten used to this place. The quiet, the dust, the animals. I spent my whole life in a city, surrounded by cars, people, pavement. In a million years, I never would have imagined I’d grow to like the solitude of the rural outdoors. But I find that I do. It’s exhilarating to go into Dallas—the traffic jams, the stores, the lights, and the feeling of anonymity. But when I leave it, I increasingly find myself relaxing in a way I never have. It’s like I’m able to take slightly deeper breaths, see a little more clearly, hear a little more precisely. I can only hope that the same sense of calm and clarity will stay with me when I see Joss for the first time in nearly eight months.
Mike comes sauntering out of the bunkhouse while I sit there. "What are you doin’?" he asks when he reaches me.
I stand up and stretch. "Just finished up with the new fences. And I got a phone call from Portland." I pause, wondering how Mike will take this. He and Joss haven’t exactly been on good terms the last couple of years "It was Mel. You knew she and Joss were back together, right? Tammy told me about it right after she got here."
"Yeah, Colin gave me the happy news," he snarls.
"Did you have a thing for Mel, or what?"
"No." He shakes his head vigorously. "What would make you think that?"
"I don’t know. You’re just so pissed at him all the time. It can’t all be on my behalf."
He rubs a hand over his scruff and looks up at the sky. "I hate him. I hate that he broke you and Tammy up. I know he didn’t do it to me, but I fucking can’t stop hating him."
I nod like I understand, but I really don’t. There’s something so personal about his reaction to it all. The thing about Mike is though, if he wants to let it out, he will. If he doesn’t, all the begging in the world won’t open him up.
"Yeah, I’m not sure if I can either."
"So what did Mel want?" he asks, bringing us back to the phone call.
"Prepare yourself," I warn.
He purses his lips and looks at me as if he’s poised on the cusp of erupting. I go on. "She and Joss are coming to town."
"Wait. Coming here? When? For what?"
"The when is soon. They’re going to email me the details. The what is to talk to me for some reason. Try to get me to forgive Joss, I guess." I kick at the dirt with the toe of my boot.
Mike’s expression tells me that he’s incredulous. "And will you?"
"I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I’m playing it by ear right now. We’ll see what I feel like when it actually happens. And it’s not the kind of thing you forgive exactly. It’s more like, I don’t know, can I stand to be around Joss again at some point or not, I think."
"Jesus. You’re a better man than I am if you’re even considering it," he growls. "He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven or tolerated or anything. He’s the worst kind of scum. A guy who would take another dude’s girl is fucking scum."
"As much as I want to believe that, I’m not sure if I can anymore, dude. The whole thing was complicated. He and Tammy fucked up, no doubt, but the reasons behind it are more than just ‘he’s an asshole’ o
r ‘she’s a cheater.’"
He snorts his derision. "There’s no reason in the world that would make sense to me, but it’s up to you. I guess there’s no way I won’t run into him while he’s here, huh?"
"Probably not, dude. Can you manage to be civil for Mel’s sake?"
"Can Mel be civil to me more like? She fucking hates me. Shoot the messenger and all that."
I shake my head. I can’t really blame Mel for hating Mike after he outed Tammy and Joss. It’s hard not to hate the guy who just told you that your sister and the guy you’re in love with both betrayed you. Mel’s the only other person in this equation who got as raw of a deal as I did.
"Mel’s pretty fantastic. I’ll bet she’s willing to cut you some slack if you’ll cut Joss some. Why don’t you give it a try, man? What good does it do any of us to hold on to the poison? We may never want to be around each other again, but we can at least let the worst of it go."
"All right, man. I’ll give it a shot, but I need a wingman. I’m calling Colin. If we’re all going to be here and try to do this, he needs to be here too."
"Agreed. Totally. Is he still in Hawaii?"
"Yeah, but he’s been talking about coming back. He learned how to surf and got into a bunch of native spiritual shit, but I guess it’s worn thin."
"I’m sure if it included ceremonial ganja he’s a true believer," I joke.
Mike shakes his head. "Someday the dude’s going to surprise all of us. Just wait and see."
"Well, I’ll be happy to see him. It’s been too long. Give him a call and tell him to get his ass down here."
"Will do."
IT’S TEN days later when Tammy arrives back at Mrs. Stallworth’s. She pulls up at about five p.m. I’ve gotten home early because I ran an errand for Ronny in town at the end of the afternoon. I’ve been sitting on the front porch swing drinking a lemonade Mrs. S. made for me and watching some kids across the street try to do tricks on their skateboards.
I watch silently as Tammy starts taking all of her crap out of the car after she parks. She’s got bags hanging from both shoulders, another bag in one hand, and a box in her other arm, and she’s trying to get the trunk closed while she holds a suitcase up with her knee. I chuckle while watching her. She’s always looked liked a damn model, my girl, but she’s not graceful or smooth about much of anything.
For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) Page 15
