by LJ Evans
Wynn was pretty sure that Edie had never had any of these things. A bed of her own. Toys of her own. It made Wynn’s stomach twist again. She couldn’t imagine what Lonnie was thinking of it all.
You couldn’t really tell with Lonnie most of the time. He had a smile on his face almost always. And a comeback for everything. But sometimes, when he was watching his niece, you could see the flicker of anguish that washed over him.
After they’d shopped and gotten back into the truck, Edie crashed into the side of her car seat, arms tight around the teddy bear that she’d declared was named “Mask” when they’d prompted her to name it. She was asleep before they’d even reached the edge of the parking lot.
“Wow. She really can just pass out anywhere?” Wynn asked with a smile at the little girl’s peaceful expression.
“You look at that and you think I’ve got it made, right? That, hell, she falls asleep hard. What a lucky guy. But I’m telling you. When she doesn’t want to fall asleep…shit. It takes an army to get her there.”
“Well, at least we’ll be able to get things set up before she wakes up.”
Lonnie looked out the back window to the pile of stuff in the bed of the truck and sighed. “I’m exhausted just looking at it.”
“It still has to get done.”
“Not now. Right now, I could just use a drive.”
“A drive?”
“Haven’t you ever just needed a drive?”
“Um…no?” Wynn said because she had no idea what he was talking about.
He grinned. “Sometimes, when life was too much, Lita and I would just get in the car and drive. We’d make it halfway to San Diego before Rochelle would call and demand that we come home.”
“Rochelle?”
“My mom.”
“You call your mama, Rochelle?”
His eyes got serious, but he didn’t respond. Wynn’s heart galloped, and she ignored it. “So…the drive is really to escape reality.”
His grin returned. “Sure. Lita and I would make a list of all the things we were going to do. All the people we were going to be. I was going to be a rich rock star, and she was going to be an airplane pilot.”
“Well, you are a rock star.”
Lonnie nudged her shoulder. “Nah, Derek’s the rock star. I’m just the backup player.”
Wynn could see he really felt that way. Like he wasn’t as important as Derek was in the band. She understood that. She’d been in the background with a lot of “superstars.” Cam hadn’t earned the nickname “Super Girl” for no reason. She was a star. Jake had been a star. Even her stepsister, Kayla, had been more star than Wynn. Even in ballet, when she’d been really good, she’d never had the lead.
“So, where are we going to go?”
He chuckled.
“It’s your town. You tell me.”
Being so close to him, it was hard to not stare into his irises and get lost. It was hard to remember that she was recently divorced and had sworn off men. He was edging under the barrier she’d been determined to build the moment she’d signed her divorce paperwork.
“You’ve seen all of it. You’ve been here a year.”
“But I’ve seen it through the eyes of an outsider, looking in. Tell me what things really are.”
She frowned at him.
“I don’t understand.”
He flicked his hand at the Baptist Church that they were driving by. He stopped across from it. It was the church she’d spent almost every Sunday in since she could remember. It was all gray bricks and white shutters. It was pretty, its steeple and bell sticking out like a New England picture of tranquility even though they weren’t in New England.
“For example,” Lonnie explained. “I see a church. A pretty church. A church I’ve taken pictures of, but it doesn’t really mean anything to me. What’s it mean to you?”
“Family,” she said without thinking, and he nodded.
“Okay. See? Why does it mean family?”
“My parents met there. We attended church there every Sunday. My mama wanted me to get married there,” she responded, wondering if the fact that Grant had turned his nose up at the little church in their little town should have been another huge flashing neon sign about their marriage.
“Your stepdad and your mom? How’d they meet?”
“Mama was chasing me down the aisle, and I’d almost broken free of the church when he stepped in to stop me from getting out the door.”
“So, you brought your parents together?”
Wynn smiled. She’d never really thought about it that way, but she guessed that was true.
“After, he took us down,” Wynn said, pointing along Main Street, “to the Dairy Queen for an ice cream.”
Lonnie smiled. “Damn, that Dairy Queen does have memories.”
He put the truck in gear and drove till he turned down the street that led to the high school. “Okay, best memory of high school?” he prompted.
“Ugh.” She put her face in her hands.
“Come on.” He shoved her shoulder with his again.
“It’s so typical that it's bad.”
“Nah, I doubt it. Come on.”
“Okay,” she breathed out. “Being crowned Homecoming Queen.”
“How is that bad?”
She shrugged. “Just…you know…I’m not that girl, pining over my high school memories and wanting to be back there.”
“You don’t seem to be. But that moment still had to feel good.”
She thought about his words and about that time…her senior year. It had been almost a year by the time homecoming rolled around since she’d slept with Pete only to have him dump her the following Monday. But she’d still felt like people saw her differently. Cam had stood up for her back then, like Cam always stood up for the people she loved. And the guys they hung out with had done the same. Pete had definitely messed with the wrong crowd. Nevertheless, she’d walked away feeling stained by it all. So, to have everyone vote her in as Homecoming Queen, it had felt…redemptive.
“It had felt good. I’d had a pretty shitty year after Pete—you know, the slug boy—and everyone knew that Cam would really have been crowned queen, but she swore that if anyone made her wear another crown, she was going to kill someone.”
Lonnie chuckled.
“She and Jake had finally gotten together. She’d just won her bronze medal at the worlds in London. She’d kind of already moved on from high school, even though it was only the beginning of our senior year.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said.
Wynn frowned at him. “But?”
“Well, how come your best memory is being someone’s alternate?”
It was just the thought she’d been having about him. About being someone’s alternate. But way back in high school, when she’d been chosen by the student body, she hadn’t felt that way. She’d never really thought about how it sounded for one of her favorite memories to be tied to a second place finish.
“I guess the same way that your being in the background to Derek’s rock stardom is good enough for you?” She didn’t mean it to come out snarky, even though it did. It wasn’t his fault that he’d spoken the truth.
But Lonnie didn’t seem to get upset by her snip. He just nodded. “Sometimes, being the backup is the perfect place to be.”
She didn’t know how she felt about that. That he’d settled for being the backup. That she’d settled for being second place. And she wasn’t sure if being backup was ever the perfect place to be, but at the moment, it seemed like that was all that life was going to give her.
Tables & Baths
THE TROUBLE WITH GIRLS
“They're sugar and spice and angel wings
Hell on wheels and tight blue jeans.”
Performed by Scotty McCreery
Written by Tompkins / White
I drove back to the apartment after we’d gone by the high sc
hool. Wynn had gotten quiet. I wasn’t sure if it was the memories that she’d shared or the fact that I’d made us sound like a bunch of second-class citizens.
I hadn’t meant it that way. I didn’t know how to explain it right. Sometimes, being in the limelight, being that person in the center of the attention…it isn’t a good thing either. No one really sees the real you. They have to peel back layers of protective skin till they find you. That’s what had happened to Derek. He’d found Mia, and he’d finally been able to show to someone everything he really was inside, baggage and all.
I didn’t want to be Derek, even though I’d joked to Lita and told Wynn that I’d wanted to be the rock star. I hadn’t. I’d never wanted to be Derek. I would have been happy with my photography and graphic design work.
I liked the band. I liked our camaraderie. And as a single guy in my twenties, I liked the attention from the women who saw a tall, red-haired lumberjack and wanted to get down and dirty with him for a few hours. But honestly, I wasn’t sure that I could see an entire life out of that. Tours. Records. Media. It was a rollercoaster ride, for sure, but I hadn’t really stopped to think about how long I really wanted it to last.
All I did know was that most days I didn’t want Derek’s stardom and the pressure that went with it. I just wanted to show up, do my job, and get the hell out; so backup player was good enough for me.
I was pretty sure Wynn didn’t have a clue about any of that, what I’d really meant. But I wasn’t in the mood to share all of that either. Because the thought that I’d had more in the last few hours was that I didn’t want Wynn to ever see me that way. As second place. Alternative. That made me nervous, but it also grew stronger the more time I spent with her. The more her kickass body was tucked up against mine on the seat of my truck.
When we got back to the apartment, I carried Edie up, still knocked out to the world, and laid her on my bed again. She looked tiny on my king-sized mattress. I knew I was going to regret letting her fall asleep at nearly dinner time.
I came out of the bedroom to find that Wynn had started carting things up from the truck.
“You don’t have to do that. I’ve got it,” I told her.
“What else do I have to do tonight?”
I shrugged. “It’s Friday. Don’t you have a date or something?”
I was trying to lighten the mood. I knew she was just divorced and didn’t want anything to do with men right now, not in that way. Which was yet another reason why my thoughts from earlier were going to have to be put aside. It couldn’t just be sex, and that was all I could offer. At least my comments made her roll her eyes at me in that way that she and her friends all seemed to have down pat.
“Seriously, Monkey Boy?”
I chuckled and took the bags from her hand.
“I don’t even have a place for all this shit.”
“You really need to start scrubbing your language.”
I placed the bags on the floor of the hallway and went into the second bedroom that was equally my office and storage room.
Wynn followed, and we stood shoulder to shoulder, staring at the space. I liked how she felt next to me. I liked the fact that her shoulder was only a few inches below mine, even though I was tall. I liked that if I kissed her, I wouldn’t have to bend half my body over to reach her sexy-as-hell lips.
I forced my thoughts back to the office and away from her mouth. “I guess I could move the music gear into my room and the desk out into the family room,” I said just to say something.
“I think it would still fit in the kitchen space even with the little table you bought,” she responded.
“I don’t need the table. Maybe I should just take it back.”
“Dinner should always be eaten at a table, not on a couch,” Wynn said with a flash of emotion.
I wanted to ask if she’d made Grant eat at the table, but I didn’t. Because that would just make her think it was another reason he’d left her. I thought it was kind of sweet in an age when hardly anyone sat down to dinner together that she wanted that. That she’d wanted it enough for me that she’d made me buy a goddamn table.
I started moving my shit, and she just followed suit. I didn’t want to think about how nice it was to not have to do it all on my own.
When we were done, the room looked like a little girl’s room. We’d set up a toddler bed, and a little dresser, and filled the closet with the clothes. Wynn had dumped out a basket that I’d had old film equipment in and filled it with toys instead. There was nothing on the walls yet. It didn’t look like a permanent home. But it at least looked like somewhere that Edie could be a kid.
I swallowed hard, knowing that she’d never had that.
When Wynn and I came out of the room, I heard crying. Little quiet sobs. I hurried into my room to find Edie weeping into her new teddy bear’s neck, cape wrapped around them both.
“Chicken Lips, what’s all the fuss?” I pulled her into my arms, and she tucked her wet face up against my neck, and my heart just about exploded.
How could my sister not want to feel this? Not want this little thing pulled up against her? The little arms, and the little smiles, and the little hugs?
“I’s alone.”
“Ah, kid. Just because you wake up in a bed by yourself, doesn’t mean you’re alone. I was here. Look, even Wynn’s still here.”
Edie peeked out from under my chin to see Wynn standing in the doorway, watching us.
“I’s like her.”
My heart flipped like crazy. Because an almost four-year-old could say the thing my heart felt but that I knew I couldn’t say. I liked her too. The strawberry girl in my bedroom. I wanted her in more than just my doorway. I wanted her in the bed that Edie had just gotten up from. I wanted my sheets to be rumpled for a whole different reason.
Wynn approached us with a gentle smile. “Hey, I like you too. How about you help me make dinner while Uncle Lonnie puts the table together?”
Edie nodded her head, the movement against my chest continuing to dig its way into my heart.
So that’s what I did, worked on a table that I didn’t really want while Edie and Wynn cooked in my kitchen like it belonged to them.
My world was completely different than it had been a month ago. My world was never going to be the same.
♫ ♫ ♫
It was nearing midnight, but Edie was still awake, running around the house with the pretend vacuum we’d bought. Wynn was tucked up against the corner of the couch, long legs curled up underneath her, and I was sorting through pictures on my computer. I was trying to find the one that I wanted to use for the cover of Asha’s website that I’d told her I’d redesign for her.
Asha had been a godsend to our band. After firing our old manager, George, last year, Derek and I had tried to manage everything on our own for a few months. But we’d been doing it badly when Blake had finally introduced us to Asha. She’d come in with wheels and ideas flying. She’d already started to set up our next tour before we’d even signed on with her officially.
When I’d seen her website and made a shitty comment about it, she’d told me if I thought I could do better, I was welcome to it. I’d told her I would, and I hadn’t really spent much time on it since, so it was about time I did. Plus, I needed the distraction. I needed to keep my mind off other things in my life. Like Lita. Like a strawberry-scented redhead. Like a toddler who wouldn’t go to sleep.
“You also weren’t kidding when you said it was difficult to get her to sleep,” Wynn said, drawing my eyes back to her and then to Edie.
If you didn’t know them, you might think they were related. The red highlights in Edie’s hair reflected in Wynn’s. A similar oval face. The same fine bones. The eyes were different. Edie had my eyes. Lita’s eyes.
“I shouldn’t have let her sleep at dinner time.”
“I don’t think you had a choice then either.”
“May—that’s Mark and Roch
elle’s housekeeper—she told me I needed to get her on a schedule. But how the hell do you do that when she’s never had one?”
“Language.”
I grimaced.
“Nonnie?” Edie stopped the vacuum in front of me. I looked down at her. “I potty.”
I looked further down her body, and, holy shit, she had gone potty. All the fuck over the place. It had leaked its way out of the Pull-ups and down onto her legs. I put my hand to my mouth, trying not to gag at the sight and the smell.
Wynn started laughing, and I looked up and frowned at her. “Who knew the Lumberjack was a wuss?”
The smell was hitting me even worse. I thought I was going to lose the mashed potatoes that Wynn had made and that I’d shoveled in.
Wynn unraveled herself from the corner of the couch. “Come on, Edie. Let’s go get you cleaned up before we need to clean Uncle Lonnie up, too.”
Edie hesitated, but then she put her hand in Wynn’s and let Wynn lead her down the hall to the bathroom. I followed at a safe distance.
Wynn started the tub and then looked back at me.
“Why don’t you get a plastic bag we can put the clothes in so they don’t stink up the house, and then go get her some clean ones?”
I just nodded. When I came back, Wynn had Edie stripped of everything but the cape. She’d tied the cape up around Edie’s neck so that it wouldn’t get into the mess and had gotten most of the gunk off with wipes before standing Edie in the tub.
I bagged the clothes, gagging the whole time. I took them out to the garbage chute. There was no way in hell I was washing those clothes. I’d go buy a whole other truckload of clothes before I’d reuse them.
I made it back to the bathroom in time to see Wynn trying to untie the cape, and Edie pushing her away. “Edie, I just want to wash your hair while we’re here. The cape will go right back on after, okay? I just don’t want it to get ruined by the water and the shampoo.”
“I’s keep. I’s keep!” Edie started to cry and scream. I knew, any minute now, she was going to let out a bloodcurdling cry that would have the neighbors calling the cops.
