Bittersweet Melody

by Belinda Boring

  Rebecca enjoyed having a boy in her bedroom—this one in particular. She’d performed a song and dance about it in the kitchen the next morning, giving the credit to Marty and his masterful talents.

  I’d groaned in response.

  I’d groaned with every reminder since.

  They were incorrigible, but she was happy, and that’s all that mattered.

  Even if it meant her sex life was more abundant than mine. Someone needed to have their world rocked—why not hers?

  Taking the pamphlet from her, I tucked it into the front pocket of my bag. “I’ll ask Cooper when he arrives. It’ll give us something to talk about on the way to rehearsal.” I was finally being welcomed into the inner sanctum that was the band’s practice time. Every time I’d offered to tag along, Cooper had given some excuse about not wanting to ruin the magic. What he was slowly learning, however, was I was pretty persistent and, sooner or later, I always got what I wanted.

  Hence, the reason why he was stopping by the library on his way there to pick me up.

  “Ask me what?”

  Rebecca jumped as though she’d just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Holy cow, someone needs to put a bell on you!” she exclaimed, dramatically draping herself across the table, breathing heavily. If there was one thing I could say for a certainty, it was that she was definitely pursuing the right career. She was more than convincing with her acting skills.

  “Rebecca,” Cooper smiled, his gaze darting to me for some kind of explanation. He was a little slow at realizing that this was just how she was. It would be easier on his nerves once he did.

  “Coop,” she groaned in response, not looking up from where she still lay.

  “You’re early,” I added, ignoring my friend. If given a few seconds, she’d be back to her normal self, or as normal as she could be. Damn, I loved this girl. “Did I read your message wrong?” Brows furrowed, I reached for my phone to pull up our text thread.

  “No, I’m early. The nursery order for the home we’re remodeling didn’t show up, so Bryce called it a day.” His bicep muscles flexed against the tight arm hem of his green T-shirt. I could only imagine what day after day of manual labor did to a body—his body. All that lifting and bending, twisting and turning, any softness giving way to the hardness of a well-defined torso. Shirt on. Shirt off. The hot sun beating down on him, sweat trickling from exertion.

  Damn.

  Correction—I shouldn’t imagine it at all. Those kinds of thoughts always led to trouble.

  “What would you say if I told you I was the answer to your prayers, Cooper Hensley?” Life had continued, despite my impromptu daydream. Rebecca was sitting upright again as she retrieved the band’s flyer from my bag.

  “I’d say . . . thank you?” he answered tentatively; still not sure what kind of conversation he’d walked into.

  “Exactly. So when you go home tonight and write in your diary, don’t forget to record this moment for prosperity.” Rebecca’s grin resembled the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland.

  He turned his focus to me. “Do you know what she’s talking about?” His eyes took on an almost pleading element.

  “This!” Rebecca answered, slapping the flyer open on the table between us. “You’re going to let me design you something that’s worthy of the Damaged Souls. Something that screams, ‘We give a shit about our image’.”

  “And this doesn’t?” Cooper picked it up, flipping it over to the blank side like it held the answer. “What’s wrong with this?”

  Rebecca released the snort to end all snorts. “I’m not even going to humor you with a response. Just answer yes or no. Actually,” she folded the flyer up again and returned it to her back pocket, pushing away from the table to stand. “Don’t bother. Consider this my gift to you and the guys.”

  “Should I be scared?” It was funny to see him squirm a little in his chair.

  “She’s harmless,” I laughed, completely intrigued to see what she came up with. “Just nod and smile. It’ll save you the headache.”

  Grabbing Cooper by the face, Rebecca did something I’d never seen her do—she bent over and kissed him square on the mouth. “I promise you’ll love it.” Not bothering to wipe her lips, she had the decency to look somewhat bashful. “And that kiss . . . let’s keep that between the three of us. I don’t want Marty thinking he doesn’t do it for me. Because . . . you know . . . he does. A lot.”

  Both of our groans echoed in stereo. “I could’ve gone my entire life without hearing that.” Cooper looked like he was ready to pound his head against the nearest hard surface.

  “See what I have to deal with?” I offered up sympathetically.

  “Whatever, you two. You love me. Deal with it.” Waving her fingers in a brief farewell, she excused herself from the table, the requirements of her job calling her back to work.

  “She’s something else,” Cooper murmured, smiling as he watched her leave.

  “She is. I feel pretty lucky to have her as my best friend.” I replied, letting out a tired sigh. “Did we need to leave now? I can pack everything up if you need to get there sooner.”

  The way he was casually reclined in his chair told me he didn’t plan to get up for a while. “Nah, I’m early, so go ahead and keep studying. I’ll go grab a newspaper or something. Don’t let me distract you.”

  That last part made me want to laugh. “Okay then. Just let me know when it’s time to leave.” Picking up my ballpoint pen, I clicked the end, hand poised over my notebook. “I’m excited to watch you guys rehearse.”

  The fact it was held in the garage of his parents’ home wasn’t lost on me, either. This would be the first time I met his family. Cooper Hensley definitely moved slowly, but this was progress.

  “Me, too. There’s a certain lady I want you to meet as well.” Judging from the way his features instantly softened, it was someone he held a lot of affection for. “Other than my mom, of course.”

  A certain lady?

  The next few hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cooper

  She was right.

  Even though I would never openly admit it, Caylee was right. It was getting easier to hang out and lower my guard. I almost felt normal whenever we were together. For someone who thought that was impossible, it stirred up that small seed of hope that had somehow survived the shit storm my life had become.

  I never spoke that realization out loud—discovering I wasn’t completely unredeemable. I didn’t want to jinx it.

  I simply kept those kinds of secrets to myself—burying it deep within my heart, praying like the son of a bitch I was that I could protect it.

  It was the last recognizable piece of me from before enlisting—from before being injured—from before my life and attitude changed. There was a reason I seemed so jaded and bitter—so determined to numb the pain and echoes from my past.

  First, because I was jaded. War did that to a person. Watching your best friend die in your arms was a guaranteed introduction to guilt and pain.

  But secondly, to reveal that innermost attribute—hope—felt like a beacon, an invitation for life to kick you in the balls, maiming you further.

  I was crippled enough, thanks to the bullet that had tore through the muscles in my thigh and back.

  I would go to my grave cynical if it meant that I had that one last, precious thing preserved from taint and corruption. I knew I didn’t deserve that small mustard seed of faith, but I couldn’t bring myself to fully let go of it.

  Shit, I sound like a fucking philosopher with this crap.

  “I’m excited to meet your parents.”

  We were almost to my childhood home, and the entire journey had been made in silence. Caylee hadn’t pushed to fill the emptiness with idle conversation, and I was grateful for that courtesy. Whether she’d meant it that way or not, it had soothed me. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you sooner but . . .”

  “Life happens.
I get it.” She smiled, the late afternoon’s sun shining through the car window and highlighting the strands of her blonde hair until they glowed.

  “Better late than never, right?” I grinned, casting her a quick sideway glance before returning my focus to the road. We were almost there, and with our arrival, Caylee would be infiltrating another piece of my life.

  I still wasn’t quite sure what to think about that—other than it felt . . . right.

  “Absolutely. So . . . ” When she didn’t continue, her pause forced me to look at her again. There was a crinkle between her eyes that created a strange feeling inside me, like I needed to reach out immediately and smooth away her uncertainty.

  “So?” I prompted, hoping she’d simply share what was on her mind. I didn’t like that she still hesitated. If she didn’t speak up within the next few seconds, I would pull over until she spilled the beans. It was yet another side effect I’d discovered to being friends with Caylee Sawyer.

  I somehow began giving a shit.

  Somewhere along the months we’d slowly opened up to each other, I began to value and look forward to each new insight she gave me. To her, it was simply a normal occurrence in any new relationship, but to me, each syllable lit a fire that I was barely able to suppress.

  “I was just wondering. I mean, I understand if you say no, but . . .” Again she stopped, chewing on her bottom lip. Whatever it was, it was making her nervous.

  Her anxiety stoked mine and, finally, I laughed. “Just ask. What’s the worst that could happen? I not answer?”

  “That and get upset with me.” There was genuine fear painted across her features.

  Warning bells should’ve started ringing—blaring—but instead, my curiosity flared and burned stronger. “Then I promise I won’t. Does that help?” In the time I’d known Caylee, I hadn’t seen her be this cautious.

  Correction.

  The only time she hedged this bad was when . . .

  “Does your mother know about me? I mean, how you know me . . .” Her questions trailed off.

  Owen.

  That was the only other time Caylee ever really bit her tongue and held back.

  That and anything related to my service in the Marines. It was like those two subjects were the constant elephant in the room between us. In the beginning, I noticed the way her features hardened and the way she’d taken in an extra deep breath like somehow the air was filled with courage and bravery. I saw her gather her thoughts to ask her questions and neatly sidestep answering them.

  After a while, Caylee took the hint, and we avoided talking about it like the plague. Until today. It was a valid question, one I’d ask in her position. I’d want to know so I could mentally prepare myself.

  “She does. While I haven’t gone into any kind of detail with my parents, they do know we’ve become good friends. They’re just as excited to meet you as well.” The brightness of her smile was dazzling. “What?”

  “You told them we were good friends?” Caylee shifted in her seat, her back against her door as she faced me fully.

  This was what made her happy? Women were confusing. “Sure. Isn’t that what we are?”

  “We are, but I never thought I’d hear you admit that, Mr. I-Don’t-Need-Anyone.” Brushing her bangs to the side and tucking them behind her ear, she added. “Would you be horribly offended if I gloated a little and said ‘I told you so’?”

  I laughed. “Who am I to deny you one of life’s refreshing joys?”

  “Then, Cooper Hensley, I told you that we’d make great friends.”

  The carefree expression she wore was like a nail driven deep into my heart, impaling me. For starters, I was jealous, and secondly, it made me want to pull over the car for a different reason—mostly to take her face between my hands and kiss the living hell out of her. I wanted to crawl so completely into her and get lost.

  I wanted to feel whatever the hell she was.

  “I’m suddenly rethinking about taking you home with me. Something tells me the second my mom sees you, you two will hit it off and then proceed to make my life miserable.”

  I wouldn’t put it past my mother to feel she’d acquired an ally in fixing me. She would never admit that out loud, adamant she was happy to just see me doing my thing, but I knew she worried. I was home, away from danger and where she could keep an eye on me, but in the years that had passed since returning injured, she’d never once lost that look of pure heartache. The one that showed she knew her beloved son had changed, that something had irrevocably been broken.

  She might be more experienced in concealing it, like me with my own demons, but every now and then, she couldn’t hide it.

  Some pain was just too big—too powerful—to remain content with being buried under layers of brave smiles and denial.

  It was something we had in common. Like mother, like son.

  “I guess it’s too late to change my mind,” I added, dispelling my thoughts with a shake of my head.

  “How come?”

  “See that woman just ahead?” I pointed to the older female peering into her mailbox. “That’s my mother.”

  I used to think she had some kind of six sense when it came to her children, but this time, it was more the fact she recognized the sound of my car than any type of supernatural ability. Pulling into the driveway, I hadn’t even taken the keys out of the ignition before my mom was around by my door, waiting to greet me.

  “Cooper!” she exclaimed. I didn’t fight as she tugged me into her warm embrace. Taking in a deep breath, her scent filled me up, instantly reminding me of the security I always felt with my family. “I was hoping you’d get here soon. Marty has been driving me crazy asking if you’d arrived already, and Aidan is one sandwich closer to eating us out of house and home. That boy has hollow legs!”

  My mother was beautiful. Kissing her cheek, I chuckled. “If it ever gets too much, Mom, just let me know. I don’t want us practicing here to become a burden.”

  “Oh now, hush. Don’t you dare stop bringing everyone over. You boys are keeping me young with all your adventures.”

  “You’re hardly old,” I snorted. She was barely approaching fifty years old, but she didn’t look a day over forty. I’d once walked into a conversation about some of the cougar experiences the guys had with older women. It wasn’t until Troy made a smart-ass comment about doing my mom that I put my foot down—actually, I threatened to stick my foot up his ass if I ever saw him look at her that way.

  Family members were off-limits.

  She cupped my face, her lips parted as if she wanted to ask me something. Instead, she peered around me to Caylee. “And this is?”

  “Crap, my bad. Mom, this is Caylee, the girl I was talking about.” Turning to Caylee, I gestured back to my mother. “And Caylee, this is my mom.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hensley,” Caylee replied politely, sticking her hand out.

  My mother took one look at the incomplete handshake and laughed, pulling Caylee into her arms, the first of many future hugs. “Welcome to our home. I hope my son’s been treating you right.” Finally releasing Caylee, my mom blushed a little. “As you can see, we’re not too formal here. Call me Heather, as well.”

  As they exchanged pleasantries, my attention was drawn away by an overly excited bark. “And here’s someone else I want you to meet.” Dropping to my knee, I didn’t bother trying to keep my balance as sixty pounds of unconditional love knocked me over. “Lola!” I laughed, struggling to keep the gorgeous chocolate brown Labrador from licking my entire face. “Come on, girl. Calm down. Stop.”

  With that one word, she stopped, sitting back on her haunches and staring expectedly at me.

  “Is she yours, Cooper?” Caylee eyes were wide with delight, her hand slowly extending toward Lola. “Is she friendly?”

  “She’s mine,” I answered proudly. It was unbelievable how much I loved this sweet dog. “She’s actually my companion dog.” Part of me cringed saying that out loud. While I
wasn’t ashamed, there was that small belief that admitting it was tantamount to declaring something was wrong with me.

  That I was reliant on someone—something—else.

  It was one thing to know I was broken, and another to have physical evidence in the form of an animal who followed me around, trained to notice visual cues to my distress. For the most part, I had my shit under control, and when I didn’t, my alcohol and occasional drug use covered the fall out.

  If I was honest, I would also acknowledge that Lola had saved my life too many times for me to keep track. There were many nights when I barely made it through each hour . . . minute . . . second. She’d been my lifeline in the beginning, even though I’d accepted the gift of her loyalty reluctantly.

  We were a team. It was Lola and me versus the world.

  Caylee crouched before the curious Labrador, waiting for her to move. Lola wouldn’t leave my side until I gave her permission. I was her priority before meeting new people. She wouldn’t acknowledge Caylee unless I gestured she wasn’t a threat.

  I brushed my fingers through her soft fur. “It’s okay, sweetheart. This is my friend, Caylee.”

  That was all it took as she sniffed toward Caylee then licked her hand. “Hello, Lola.” There was no doubt she was an animal lover. Standing up, I was glad to see the silly grin she was wearing. “She’s beautiful, Cooper. I’m glad you have each other.”

  “Can I get either of you something to eat or drink before you head back to the garage?” Before I could say no, she added, “It’s the only time I can be sure he’s eating properly.”

  “Mom,” I groaned, my embarrassment fleeting as another feeling took over. It felt good to be cared for just for the sake of loving the person. It was nice, refreshing, to be around people who wanted nothing from me.

  My discomfort apparently amused Caylee. “I’m fine, Heather. Thanks for the offer.”

  “Well, maybe later. Come into the house if you change your mind. Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to talk some more.” Her last comment was directed at Caylee.