For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2)

by Selena Laurence

  I set the lemonade down on the porch railing and saunter down the sidewalk. I open the little gate and then lean against the side of Tammy’s car while she struggles. "You need some help there?" I ask casually.

  She shoots me a glare and doesn’t answer.

  "Here." I step forward and reach for the suitcase balancing precariously against her leg.

  She yelps and jerks back, the bags slide down her arms, she drops the one in her hand, the suitcase falls on her foot, and the trunk flies back up, bouncing a couple of times as it settles into the open position.

  "Shit!" Tammy yells as she hops on one leg and shakes her other foot around.

  I try not to laugh as I start grabbing the bags off of her arms. "Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry." A burst of laughter escapes. "Here. Just let me have this crap."

  She gives up the bags and slams the trunk shut before bending down to rub at her toe. I gather up everything but her purse, which she picks up from the pavement.

  "This all going to your room?" I ask.

  "Yes, please," she says, avoiding my eyes.

  I set off back to the house. Mrs. S. is standing in the open front door when I get up the porch stairs.

  "Can I take these things upstairs for Tammy?" I ask her, trying to act like I take her rules seriously.

  "Yes, go on," she huffs. "Get inside, girl," she crows at Tammy. "All the air conditioning’s getting out."

  I get into Tammy’s room and set everything down on the bed, stopping after I unload it to roll my shoulders a couple of times. I wonder if she’s packed rocks in those bags. I can’t believe she thought she’d get them inside on her own.

  As I turn to leave, I find myself face to face with Tammy. She’s standing in the doorway, a look of anguish on her beautiful face. It skitters away like a pattern in sand when wind hits it, but it’s not gone before I notice. I reach my hand out instinctively. The way she recoils stops my gesture instantly.

  "Tam?" I ask. "Everything okay?"

  She pastes on the mask she uses with reporters when she’s giving a publicity statement. "Yes, of course. Thanks very much for the help with the bags."

  "Sure," I say, feeling instantly alone and empty because she’s shutting me out. "So are you ready for tonight?"

  She swallows and moves into the room, shimmying past me so she can set her purse on the dresser along the wall next to the door. "Yeah, I think so. It’ll be really good to see Mel."

  I nod, hands stuffed in my pockets, everything feeling stilted and awkward in a way it never has before with Tammy. "Well, let me know when they get here. I think I’ll go downstairs and practice for a bit."

  Now I get the smile normally reserved for smarmy roadies and other bands’ agents. "Sounds good," she chirps.

  I leave and head downstairs. Something inside me feels bad, unhealthy. I can feel her slipping away, and I don’t like it. The phrase "be careful what you wish for" comes to mind, and I wonder if Tammy away from me is really what I wanted after all.

  IT’S FORTY-FIVE minutes later when I pause in beating the drums to take a drink of water and there’s commotion from upstairs. I hear Tammy’s exclamations followed by a similar voice and then a deep rumble that I know instantly is Joss. I take a quick breath and sit quietly for just a moment, trying to steel myself for what lies ahead. Finally, I stand, stiffen my spine, and walk upstairs to see the best friend I ever had and the man who tore my life to pieces.

  I exit the basement and walk down the hall. I can see them before they see me. Tammy and Mel are facing my direction, the two of them smiling like the whole world is filled with sunshine. They look nothing alike, yet you can tell in a moment that they’re sisters, and the sight of the joy they feel when they’re with one another sends an arrow of deeply bittersweet emotion through my heart. It makes me so intensely sad that I hardly ever see that look on Tammy’s face anymore but also so profoundly happy to see it now. I can’t decide which way to feel first.

  Joss stands, nodding seriously as Mrs. S. lectures him about her rules. I don’t have to see his face to know what expression he’s wearing—the focused, mature one I’ve never mastered.

  As if she can feel me, Tammy stops talking to Mel and looks across the foyer at me. I see Joss’s posture clench up before he straightens and turns around slowly.

  His face is hopeful, tentative, and determined all at once. I stand frozen and watch him for a moment, memories flashing through my mind—baseball games, bike races, sleepovers, secret midnight trips to smoke cigarettes, concerts, recording sessions, a bathroom in a convenience store where I feared my life might end. I recognize the essence of my entire life, right there in his eyes, and in that moment, I realize—when I cut him out, I cut out a piece of myself. I don’t know where we’ll end up, but I know it won’t be as strangers. It’s too late for that.

  I step forward and extend my hand. "Joss. How you doing, man?"

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tammy bring her hands up to cover her mouth, but not before a small choking sob works its way out. Mel stands quietly and looks at the floor.

  Joss puts his hand out and slowly takes mine in his grip. Then, before I can stop him, he’s pulled me into a half hug, clapping me on the back. I hear his warm voice vibrate in my ear. "I missed you, man. So fucking much."

  I nod my head, too overcome with the myriad emotions to answer. He releases me and we stand and look at one another without speaking for a minute. Some way, I think to myself, we’re going to figure out how to get past this—for the decades of life, memories, and brotherhood. Walsh and Joss aren’t done yet. I feel it deep in my gut. We will get beyond this point. We have to.

  "Well, get going then," Mrs. S. harps. "This poor child hasn’t eaten since two o’clock this afternoon." She reaches over and pats Mel on the cheek. Tammy rolls her eyes and I just stand open-mouthed in confusion. "You need to get her some food." Mrs. S. gives Joss a chest-jab just for good measure.

  I know Joss doesn’t take too kindly to being told what to do, so I step in to diffuse the situation. "No need to get violent now, Mrs. S. We’ll take Joss and Mel to The Bronco and get dinner. You should go get started on your show. I heard that Olivia’s going to find out all about David’s murder on this episode," I tell her, referring to the nighttime soap, Scandal, that she lives for.

  Mrs. Stallworth’s face lights up. "Oh," she cackles. "I’ve been waiting for this one." Then she scowls. "Don’t you dare bother me when you get home, boy. I’m going to watch this episode at least twice to make sure I get every detail."

  "Yes, ma’am," I answer.

  Joss is smirking at me, and Tammy has marched off in a huff somewhere down the hall.

  Mrs. Stallworth turns to Mel, and her face softens. "If you need anything, dear, you just let me know. If that house he got for you isn’t nice enough, I’ve got a room right next to your sister’s. He’ll have to stay in the basement with the other one." She jabs a thumb in my direction. "But I have a lovely room all fresh and ready for you." She smiles—actually smiles—at Mel and then pinches her cheek before she shuffles off to the TV room at the back of the house.

  Tammy reappears with her purse. She shakes her head. "Unbelievable. I could go without eating for a week and she wouldn’t give a damn, but she’s known you for five whole minutes and she’s already fussing over you."

  Mel laughs and shrugs, blushing a bit.

  "Mel just has that effect on people, Tam. You know that," Joss says as he throws his arm around Mel and kisses her forehead.

  She reaches up to grab his hand on her shoulder, and that’s when I see it—a very large, very sparkly diamond ring shining from Mel’s left ring finger.

  I look at Joss, at Mel’s finger, back at Joss. His expression is confused. Then I see when he’s caught on. He takes his arm from around Mel and grabs her hand as he holds it out in front of them.

  "I think the cat’s out of the bag, baby," he tells her quietly.

  "Oh!" she answers as she watches me carefully.


  I can feel Tammy tense behind them.

  "So…" I pretend to examine the ring for a moment. "Does this mean what I think it does?"

  Joss clears his throat. "Um, we were going to work up to this, but yeah. I’ve asked Mel to marry me, and astonishingly, she said yes."

  "That is pretty astonishing," I tell him as I do my best to give them a scowl. "Considering what a dick you are," I finish.

  Joss tenses, and Mel’s face falls. I realize that I can’t keep this up for long.

  "Look," Joss says quietly. "I understand this is hard for you, and I know I don’t deserve your congratulations—"

  I cut him off. "Oh yeah? So you want my congratulations?"

  Mel finally speaks up, her voice shaking a tiny bit as she absentmindedly turns the ring on her finger. "We’d really appreciate it, Walsh. You’re part of our family, and it just won’t be the same if you’re not with us."

  I nod my head. "Let me see that ring again?" They all look at me like I’m nuts, but Mel holds her hand out once more. I grab her hand and inspect it front and back. "I don’t know, man. He could’ve gotten another carat. I mean, he’s got a fucking boatload of money, Mel. But," I sigh dramatically, "I suppose if you’re okay with this tiny thing, I’m okay with it." I keep a hold of her hand, and her eyes grow wider.

  I see the moment she and Joss both get it. She starts to smile, and I pull her to me in a big bear hug. As I reach around her and shake Joss’s hand, I tell Mel, "Couldn’t be happier for you, Little D. You made a good choice."

  Mel gives a little gasp and squeezes me tighter. Joss turns around abruptly, and I know it’s because he’s overcome. I am too. To see two people I’ve loved for half of my life find happiness together is far more important than the mistakes anyone has made in the past. I can’t deny my joy for them. I only wish I’ll get the same sort of joy eventually. And with that thought, I find myself looking over Mel’s shoulder at Tammy, who is staring at the floor in utter distress, tears rolling down her face.

  I release Mel. Joss turns back to us and pulls Mel into him, holding her tenderly as he kisses her hair. She buries her face in his chest, and I can see her breathe deeply then relax into him.

  "Thanks," he tells me simply, his voice gravelly.

  "My pleasure," I answer. "Hey, can we meet you outside? I need to talk to Tammy for a minute."

  Joss looks at me carefully, and I see Mel’s eyes flash to her sister as Tammy bravely tries to fix a smile on her face.

  "Sure thing," Joss answers as he and Mel hustle out the front door.

  Once they’re gone, I step to Tammy and take her hands in mine. "I thought this would make you happy. I mean, you want me to be okay with them, right? You want me to congratulate them and for everyone to get along so we can all be at the wedding?"

  She nods, biting down on her lip. "Yes, of course. Thank you."

  "So what’s the problem? You’re obviously upset."

  She pulls her hands from mine, and I instantly miss their soft heat. She takes a step to the door, head down, shoulders sagging. As she opens it, she pauses. Her quiet answer comes before she walks outside.

  "I just wish you could have forgiven me that way."

  Tammy

  SEEING MY sister is like having a stone lifted off of my chest. One of those moments when you realize you’ve been under a burden that you weren’t even aware of. As we walk to The Bronco, Mel and I stay ahead of the guys so we can whisper to one another. She has her arm through mine, and it reminds me of days when she was a tiny child and I would hold on to her hand as we walked to the neighborhood park or library.

  "I can’t believe it went so well," Mel gushes as she leans into my ear.

  I nod and swallow. I can’t ruin this for her, and really, it is a fantastic moment for all of us. Something that we would never have guessed would be possible a few months ago. Joss and Walsh shook hands. No one hit anyone. No insults were exchanged. It’s more than I hoped for, frankly, but I still hurt, and my world is entirely off-kilter.

  "It went great," I tell her. "So am I going to get to help with the wedding plans?" I remember my tendency to impose myself, as Mike says. "I mean, I’m available to help if you need it…or want it." I shut my mouth and hope I haven’t fucked it up.

  She squeezes my arm with her hand. "Yes. I want your help, and I want you to be my maid of honor."

  I feel the tears coming again. Fuck. I’ve never cried this much in my life. I reel it back in. "I would love that. Thank you. Thank you for forgiving me, for letting me stay in your life—and for staying in mine.”

  "Oh, Tammy," she sighs. "There was never any question." We lean our heads together and stay that way until we reach The Bronco. It fills my poor empty heart.

  At The Bronco, we get a table for four, and before we’ve hardly gotten in our chairs, the red-haired banshee—Marsha—is there, all smiles for Walsh.

  "Well, hey there, cowboy," she drawls as she sets an O.J. and club in front of him. She knows his favorite drink too?

  Before he has a chance to answer, her eyes go around the table. Her smile is firmly in place as she looks at Mel, and then her gaze reaches Joss. I see her mouth form into a little ‘o’ as her eyes get wide. She clears her throat and stands up a little straighter. Yeah, she knows who he is for sure.

  Joss gets that oh shit look on his face, and I notice Mel trying not to smirk. I’ve got to hand it to Marsha though—she recovers nicely.

  "So I see you’ve got some friends from out of town," she tells Walsh.

  He gives her an amused smile. "Marsha, this is Joss Jamison and his fiancée, Mel DiLorenzo, Tammy’s sister. Joss, Mel—Marsha, my favorite waitress at The Bronco."

  Joss gives her his signature rock-star smile and holds out his hand. "It’s nice to meet you, Marsha."

  She lets out a shaky breath. "Likewise, I’m sure," she says, blushing. "And you too." She turns to Mel as she darts a look at me. "Your sister’s made a big impression here at The Bronco."

  Mel raises a brow and looks at me questioningly. "My sister’s pretty good at big impressions," she answers.

  I just roll my eyes and pick up the menu in front of me.

  "Can I get a beer and some fries please?" I simper at Marsha, batting my eyelashes. I know I’m supposed to be working on the bitchy part, but give me a freaking break.

  She glowers at me before turning her smile back on everyone else. "Anyone else want something to start off with?"

  Joss gets a scotch, and Mel orders a rum and Coke. We decide to all share the basket of fries and a large platter of ribs.

  After Marsha leaves, Joss leans back, his arm on the back of Mel’s chair as he rubs her shoulder. Walsh and I are consciously sitting as far apart as we can at the small table. No risk of an accidental brush or touch.

  "Man, I thought we were going to have a Honolulu situation on our hands for a minute there," Joss says.

  Walsh looks at the table for a minute, smiling softly. "Yeah, that was a mess. I don’t know why we thought we could just go hang out at a bar at that point. We’d been on the cover of Rock Steady the week before. Our faces were plastered all over newsstands from Tokyo to Trenton." He shakes his head at the memory.

  What it reminds me of, however, is not the near riot the guys created when we went out to a club in Honolulu, but what Walsh and I did afterwards.

  In the nick of time, we all ran from the mob at the bar and jumped in the back of the waiting town car. It took us back to the cluster of beach cottages we were renting, each with its own stretch of private beach. Mike made use of his with a couple of escorts he got delivered after we returned, Joss fell asleep alone on the patio of his unit, and Colin got high and ate pizza on the beach, claiming it was the way Hawaiian-style pizza was meant to be enjoyed. But Walsh and I took a blanket down to the sand.

  Walsh spreads the blanket out a few feet from where the waves are gently lapping at the shore.

  "Com’ere," he tells me as he sits down, an impish grin on his face.

/>   I saunter closer and put my hands on my hips. "You think you’re going to get lucky out here in the open?" I ask.

  He nods slowly. "Yeah, sweetheart, I do. Get your hot ass over here and I’ll show you just how lucky."

  I walk closer until I’m standing on the blanket, looking down into his beautiful face in the moonlight. He reaches up and very slowly pulls on the strings on both sides of my bikini bottoms. They release and slide down my legs, falling onto the blanket.

  "Oh yeah," he growls. "That’s what I’m talking about." He rises onto his knees as he strokes the inside of my thigh with one hand while the other reaches around and clamps on to my butt. His lips follow the path set by his fingers, and my head drops back as all the energy in my body rolls to my core and settles in a hot, throbbing mass.

  His tongue explores my belly button while his other hand massages my butt and hip. Then he dips lower, flicking my clit with the very tip of his tongue.

  "Oh, shit, Walsh," I gasp.

  I hear him chuckle before he lifts my right leg and hooks it over his shoulder, wrapping his arm around my thigh. His hand can just reach to part my folds as his tongue and teeth dive into me. His other arm pulls me against him tighter, and I can hear him saying things as he licks and sucks.

  "You’re fucking beautiful, Tammy DiLorenzo," he breathes. "I want you. Every hour of every day."

  My hands settle on his head, and I dig my fingers into his thick hair. My breath is coming hard, and I can feel everything below my waist gathering into one consolidated rush. I can’t help but cry out. "God. Oh God, Walsh."

  Just as I’m on the edge of falling into an enormous orgasm, he stops. I’m panting like I’ve run a marathon, and I open my eyes and look down at him.

  "No. Don’t stop. What are you doing?" I whine in frustration.

  He chuckles again and reaches up to untie my bikini top this time. He tosses it away in the sand and palms both of my breasts reverently. Then he places his mouth on one and sucks so hard I nearly come apart. He continues to suck while his other hand slips back between my legs and presses rhythmically against my clit. My hips roll into his hand. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. The breeze off the ocean is cool, and my skin is burning up. I can hear the water rolling onto the sand, and Walsh is moaning in pleasure as he continues to lave my breast. It’s a sensual buffet, and it flashes through my mind that I could do this, be this, feel this, forever and never tire of it.