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

by Selena Laurence

  I nod, wondering what the hell happened. Colin never used anything but pot very regularly, but he was stoned most of every day, and adding in other things for a celebration certainly wasn’t unheard of. Before I can conjecture, he’s back and I send him and Mike off to find Leanne and Ronny while I start to move tables and chairs out to the campfire area in preparation for our little family reunion. I can only hope that it doesn’t end up like a Manson family gathering.

  IT’S SIX thirty on the dot when Joss and Mel pull up. Tammy’s about thirty seconds behind them in her own car. I’m taking things back and forth between the house and the campfire, so I’m right in the driveway when they park. My hands are full of platters of steaks, so I give them a head tilt and say, "Follow me. We’re over here."

  We make our way over to the campfire, where Mike and Colin are setting up the grill that goes over the fire so we can cook the steaks. I set the platters down on the table. Joss has stopped, hands in his pockets, looking exceptionally uncomfortable. Mike hasn’t turned to see him yet, so we all wait, frozen there in anticipation. I roll my shoulders once, preparing to jump in and pull them off of each other if I have to.

  Colin turns first. "Hey, it’s the dude from Lush!" he shouts as he tears over to Joss and jumps on him like a monkey.

  Joss pulls his hands out of his pockets just in time to grab Colin so they both don’t topple on the ground. He’s laughing so hard as Colin hops off of him that he can’t even talk. Mel stands a few steps away grinning from ear to ear.

  Colin holds on to Joss’s hand as he throws an arm around Mel. "Little D. Fuck, I missed you," he tells her.

  "We missed you too, man," Joss says, his voice rough. They just look at one another for a few minutes.

  I glance at Tammy, who’s standing back behind everyone, watching quietly. I’m not sure what I see on her face, but if I had to describe it, I’d say that it’s yearning. I realize for the first time since everything fell apart that she lost it all too. Not just me, but the guys, the band, the music. Humiliation rolls through me as I realize that it’s taken me nearly a year to realize something so incredibly basic and obvious.

  Colin notices Tammy standing back there too, and he releases Mel and Joss as he strides to Tammy and throws his arms around her, lifting her off her feet. He swings her around in a circle as he says over and over, "I missed you, I missed you, I missed you, Tammy D."

  When he finally sets her back down, Tammy’s eyes are glistening and she’s got a sweet smile on her face. "You went and got all buff," she chokes out through the emotion.

  Colin laughs and Joss takes a punch at his arm while Mel and Tammy giggle. As they’re horsing around, I turn to watch Mike. He stands, arms crossed, a look of derision on his face. He notices me, and I give him a warning glare. He rolls his eyes and strides over to the rest of them.

  "Joss, Mel," he says in a cool voice. "Glad you could make it out." It’s pretty obvious he’s not, but it’s hard to fault him for saying what I’ve told him he needs to say. I can’t make him feel it too.

  Joss gives him a chin tip. "Good to see you. Thanks for the invite." Neither one of them offers to shake the other’s hand. It pisses me off, but I guess it’s the best I’m going to get out of them tonight.

  Mel is tight-lipped and Colin quiet as Joss and Mike stand looking uncomfortable without a clue what else to say to one another. I ought to let them stand there and soak in their discomfort. It’d be what both of them deserve. Joss for being unable to keep his dick in check around my fiancée, and Mike for being unreasonably mad about that. But that’s not who I am or what I do. I don’t let people feel uncomfortable if I can do something about it. I fix it, fix us.

  "Mike, I got the steaks here. Let’s get them cooking. You’re manning the grill. Joss and Colin, can you two go to the house and get the big cooler by the back door? It’s got the sodas. Tammy, will you take charge of getting the rest of the food set out and stuff? You know I don’t have a clue how to do that shit."

  Everyone snaps into motion, Colin and Joss taking Mel with them to get the cooler and Mike grabbing the platter of meat before he heads to the big grill over the firepit. Tammy comes to the table where all the food is laid out.

  "You don’t need to do that," she tells me quietly as she starts taking items out of the shopping bags and boxes.

  "Do what?" I ask as I watch her, her long, slender fingers capturing my attention completely. Now all I can think about is them on me. All over me, my skin, my hair, my dick.

  "Fill in the cracks. Smooth over the rough patches. If Joss and Mike can’t find anything decent to say to one another, just let them sit with it. You don’t have to make it okay for them. Some things just aren’t okay, Walsh."

  I nod. "Old habits die hard."

  "Yes. They do," she responds, giving me a quick glance from underneath her lashes.

  I fold my arms and quietly lean back against the table as she empties containers of food into bowls—potato salad, cole slaw, chips, salsa. "So, is that what we are? An old habit?" I finally ask, my heart beating far too fast and far too hard.

  She stops what she’s doing, eyes down on the table. "If you have to ask the question, I guess that’s all the answer we need," she bites out.

  I swallow and stay put as she picks up an armload of trash and walks to the garbage cans on the other side of the camp. She doesn’t come back, and it occurs to me that I may need to get used to the idea of her not coming back. Not ever.

  Tammy

  AN OLD habit. Walsh has just called our fourteen-year-long relationship an old habit. I’m so sick that I’m afraid I might vomit in the middle of the party. I toss the empty deli containers in the garbage and keep right on walking. I make my way to the parking lot and pace around my car. I’m counting and breathing and doing all the things my therapist has told me to do. It’s not working though, because this time, it’s not anger that’s suffusing my body. It’s pain. Pure, blinding pain. It hurts so bad I think my chest is splitting open.

  When Walsh left me all those months ago, I was so far into my emotional spiral that I was already in the hospital, mildly sedated. They kept me drugged up for a while, adjusting the dosages of my antidepressants, weaning me off of sleeping meds. I was a mess, but I was also numb. I never felt anything as sharply as I’m feeling it right now. My therapist told me at one point that we’d know I was on the right dose of meds when I could feel the things I was supposed to but still do the things in life I had to do. Now, as I stand here with my heart tearing open, I think I need my dosage adjusted. This hurts way too much. I can’t do anything if I feel like this.

  Panic is bubbling up inside me and my head is spinning. I lean back against the car, trying to breathe. My heart is pounding and there’s a tingling crawling through my arms and legs. Little sparks dance in front of my eyes. I’m gasping now, and all I can think is that I’m having a heart attack or a stroke. Do healthy twenty-eight-year-old women have heart attacks?

  I can’t even yell for help because I can’t catch my breath enough to use my voice. God, I’m going to die right here in Ronny and Leanne’s parking lot next to this stupid red Mustang. An old habit. He’s really done. He’s not going to take me back. I’ve known it for weeks, but it became so clear when he used those words. Walsh is done with me, and I’m going to die. Right here. Right now.

  Then, there is a pair of arms around me and a soothing voice in my ear. "Just focus on breathing, Tammy. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. I promise." Colin rubs my back, holding me close as he talks. "Breathe in for four, now out for four. That’s a good girl. You got it. You can do this."

  My heart slows somewhat and the tingling in my limbs recedes. I keep counting like Colin’s telling me, and slowly I begin to regain control over my body. When my breathing finally goes back to normal, Colin pulls back, holding my shoulders in his hands. He looks down at me.

  "You all right?" he asks, worry furrowing his brow.

  I nod slowly.

  "Pani
c attack," he tells me succinctly. "What happened?"

  I wipe away a single tear that’s forced its way out of the corner of my eye. I refuse to cry. I refuse to give myself the satisfaction.

  "It’s okay. I’m all right. Thank you for helping."

  He looks worried. "Yeah. You know I’ll always help however I can. How is it, this whole thing with Mel and Joss? You fine with that?"

  "Yes," I tell him firmly. "Absolutely. I’m really happy for them. I know he loves her, and they’re super happy."

  He nods and looks thoughtful for a moment. "And you and Walsh?"

  "There is no me and Walsh," I tell him.

  "Aw, Tam. There will always be a you and Walsh."

  "No, Colin. Old habits just die hard. That’s all."

  THE NIGHT progresses and everyone gets a decent meal. Leanne’s marinade is delicious, and Mike manages not to overcook the meat. I sit with Colin and Mel. Joss splits his time among the three of us—Mel, really—and Walsh. I can see how hard he’s trying to engage with Walsh, and while Walsh isn’t shutting him down, he’s also not opening up much. I feel like telling Joss not to worry, that Walsh won’t open up to me either. Maybe Joss and I are both old habits that need to be jettisoned.

  Mel can tell that there’s something wrong with me, but I’m not going to get into it with her here. She’ll have to take my word that I’m okay—even though I’m not. As it grows dark, we all quiet down, everyone looking at the fire and lost in their own thoughts. Out of the blue, Mike stands up and marches off toward the house. I wonder what the hell he’s up to. I know if he just had to pee he’d have done it in the bushes five feet from the rest of us because that’s how he is. I raise an eyebrow at Colin, but he shrugs, indicating that he doesn’t know any more than I do.

  Mike returns a few minutes later with an acoustic guitar, Colin’s bass, and a pair of drum sticks. As he hands the stuff to Walsh and Colin, he tells Joss, "I’d have gotten you a megaphone, but we’re fresh out." Joss laughs, and Mike smiles at him for the first time all night.

  Walsh pulls his chair over to a big boulder and tests out his sticks on the surface of the rock.

  "No rock-star moves on that kit," Joss tells him. "You’ll snap those sticks for sure."

  Colin stands up and straps the bass on while Mike tunes up his guitar. "What have you got for us, boss man?" Mike asks Joss.

  Joss smiles wryly. "I’m nobody’s boss these days. Maybe Walsh should choose?"

  Walsh looks thoughtful. Then he flashes a sizzling look at me. “Your Air,” he says and starts the count in.

  I close my eyes as the guys play the opening chords of the song. Without an amp for the bass and a real drum kit, the lower registers are faint, and it’s the guitar and Joss’s voice that ring out in the dark night. The music washes over me, rolling across my skin as if it were human fingers touching me.

  This song has always been bittersweet for me. It’s a beautiful ballad, but it was written at that hardest point in my life—after I slept with Joss, before Walsh got out of rehab. I never asked who Joss wrote it for. I didn’t want to know, but tonight, I open my eyes and watch him as he sings, his eyes on my sister the entire time. There is such tenderness in his gaze that I decide he wrote it for her—the idea of her—before he ever knew she was out there waiting for him.

  Walsh is tapping out the rhythm on the rock in front of him, his eyes firmly trained on the empty night before him rather than any of us. I look at the hard set of his jaw and the stiff stance of his shoulders, and I hear his words again. "Is that what we are? An old habit?"

  I realize I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep waiting, hoping, forcing, begging. He’s not going to come back to me. Whether it was my fault or his or some awful combination of the two of us, Walsh and I are done. We were done months ago. I was just too stubborn to accept it.

  As the song ends and the guys congratulate each other, I lean over to Mel. "I’m going. I’ll talk to you tomorrow," I tell her quietly.

  She looks at me, concern etched in her beautiful features. "Are you sure?" she asks.

  "Yeah," I say, holding my index finger up to my lips to indicate that I want to go quietly.

  She nods, and I stand up and slip away into the night.

  Walsh

  AS MUCH as I want to go after Tammy when she takes off, I don’t. I stay and we sing a few more songs, getting more relaxed with each one. When I close my eyes, I can almost forget the last year. I can almost recapture that feeling I used to get when I’d jam with my brothers. It was that one space in the world where I wouldn’t think or worry about anything else. Every other thought would leave my mind. It was just me, the guys, and our music. Sheer perfection. If only I could feel like that all the other moments of my life. Then I wouldn’t crave booze so damn much.

  Mel’s gone inside the main house to help Leanne clean up dishes, so once Mike leaves to put the instruments away in the bunkhouse, I ask Joss and Colin to have a seat with me near the fire. I’m getting a two-for-one special tonight, so I need to take advantage of it.

  "You guys know that Ronny’s my AA sponsor, right?" I dive right in.

  They both nod, and Colin tells me how much he liked Ronny when he met him earlier.

  "Yeah, he’s a good guy, and I’ve been working my steps. I, uh… I fucked up a few weeks ago. On Easter Sunday no less. Got myself a fifth of J.B. and spent a few hours on a park bench."

  Joss and Colin are both obviously shocked, and in a way, it makes me feel better—that they believe in my ability to stay sober so much they’re surprised to hear I fell off the wagon. I haven’t had that kind of confidence in myself, but maybe it’s time for a change.

  "What happened, man?" Joss asks, the worry apparent in every line of his face.

  "I made a bad choice," I tell him, stripping it down to the most essential truth. "But now I’m making a good one. Part of working my steps is to make amends to those I harmed when I was drinking. That’s what I’m doing here with you two right now."

  "Dude," Colin mutters. "You don’t owe us anything."

  "I do though, man. My drinking affected everyone in the band, everyone in my life for a long time, and especially toward the end. And I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for all the days you had to haul my hungover ass out of bed to practice. I’m sorry for all the times you had to clean up after me when I puked in your cars or your bathrooms or your beds. I’m sorry for embarrassing you by being a drunken fool in front of other people at every party and event we went to for years running." Now I turn to Joss. "And I’m sorry for nearly drinking myself to death in front of you and making you feel that you’d lost your only family. You watched out for me my whole life, and whether that was the best thing for me or not, you did it with the finest intentions. You loved me like a brother, and no brother deserves what I put you through."

  The three of us are silent for a long time after that. Finally, Joss pins me with a stare right in the eyes and asks, "And have I?"

  I look at him questioningly.

  "Have I lost my only family?"

  I give him a small smile. "I think you’re about to make a new family," I tell him, feeling a pang of regret in my heart.

  "And you’re a part of it. Any time you want to be. Any time you’re ready. You’re an important part of that."

  I nod my head, not ready to answer him yet but ready to consider the possibility. He seems to understand, and he stands as he puts his hand out. I stand too, and we clasp hands, pulling each other in for a brief hug.

  "Thanks for the cookout, brotha’," Joss says, smiling. Then he turns to Colin, who’s watching us with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Get your ass up here," Joss tells him as he reaches his hand down.

  Colin grabs Joss’s hand and stands. They hug then give each other a couple of friendly dude punches to get everyone back to normal.

  "I’m taking Mel to Dallas tomorrow. She wants to shop for bridesmaid’s dresses or some crap." He rolls his eyes. "But I’ll be around the day af
ter. Maybe we can do breakfast before you go to work?"

  "Breakfast of champions," Colin taunts, recalling what we named our post-party early morning greasefests.

  "Yep. Let’s do it," I reply. "I’ll get Mike. We’ll see if we can eat all the eggs in the diner."

  After Joss leaves, we break down the setup for the night. As soon as the campfire is out and Mike and Colin have taken off for a visit to The Bronco, I hop in my truck and head straight to Mrs. Stallworth’s house. I’m agitated, and I know I shouldn’t be. I should have a sense of closure, of peace from unloading my guilt to Joss and Colin, but something is simmering inside me, a foreboding, an inkling that a seismic shift is coming, and I don’t like it. I also don’t like that Tammy left early tonight. The idea was for all of us to be with each other, and that includes her. She’s always been as much a part of the band as any of us. Without her there, it felt like a piece of the puzzle was missing.

  I pull up to the boarding house and hop out, charging up the front walk, ready to tromp upstairs if necessary to get her to talk to me. But there she is, in the dark, on the same porch swing I was sitting on last night. I stop abruptly as I get to the top of the stairs.

  "Hi." I sound like a dumb-ass fifteen-year-old.

  "Hi," she replies quietly.

  I lean against the post next to me, watching her. "Why’d you leave?" I ask, trying to act like I don’t care all that much.

  "It was time. It is time."

  "What’s that mean?" That feeling of foreboding grows stronger.

  She sighs deeply. "It’s time for me to go home, Walsh. I’m going to go back to Portland with Mel when she leaves."

  I swallow. She doesn’t mean what I think she does. "Okay. So when will you be back?"

  "I’m not coming back."

  My heart speeds up, and I feel the shaking start in my hands. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wasn’t prepared for this. I’m not ready yet. I’m trying to get there, trying to become the person she needs so that I can have her back. But I’m not there yet.