Like she was now.
I closed my eyes, the effect of her billowing over me. I couldn’t fight my body’s instant reaction to having her in my arms again. If I had my way—I’d never let her go again.
But Harper’s arms relaxed, and she pulled away from my embrace. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I let my arms drop to my sides and nodded.
She smiled at me before turning and walking out of the bar. I fought against going after her, forcing myself to turn to the bar and pick up my whiskey. The ice had melted, but I downed it anyway, needing the bitter bite to snap me back to this reality.
“Was that Harper Morrison?” Mom’s voice didn’t surprise me, nor did her sudden presence behind me.
“Yeah.”
“I thought I saw her at the funeral.” She sank into the stool beside me, her kind but shrewd eyes never leaving my face.
“She was there,” I confirmed, turning and propping my elbow against the bar. Clenching my jaw, I fought to keep the confession from spilling from my lips. Now wasn’t the time to throw another plot twist into Mom’s life. That could wait until later when the townsfolk’s prying eyes and Gramps’ old friends weren’t observing.
“That’s good,” Mom said, the smile detectable in her voice. She sounded happy for me, and for some reason—her happiness about Harper’s reappearance weighed heavily on me.
I inhaled through my nostrils, nodding slowly. My jaw was clenched to the point of pain, but it was that or confess. Gathering my composure, I finally turned to look at her, my teeth biting back the truth that sat precariously on my tongue’s tip.
“That was a beautiful speech you gave, Calum.” She spoke before I could, with a smile of pride, and that stung because I feared that pride would be overshadowed, when she learned the true extent of my destructive decisions.
“Thanks,” I mumbled, staring down at the amber liquid in the glass.
“Cal,” Mom said, pressing her hand against the back of my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, sorry.” I cleared my throat, managing a strained smile. “Just, you know. Funeral.”
“Yeah…” Flashing me a narrow look, like she didn’t quite buy my excuse, she allowed it to slide. “Well, I’m proud of you. So is your father.”
I huffed, shaking my head slightly. I wondered if she’d be able to say the same thing later tonight. Signaling for another drink, I cast a glance at my mother. Her smile had slipped a little, her green eyes considering me keenly.
“You know…I always had a soft spot for that girl.” Mom remarked. “She whipped you into shape—for a while there.”
“Yeah.” I grounded out, relieved when the bartender finally slid a new whiskey into my waiting hand.
“My son, found at the bar,” Dad said drily from behind me. “Typical.”
“Everyone’s at the bar, Dad. In fact, you’re also at the bar.”
“I’m not drinking my weight in whiskey.”
“Neither am I, but thanks for the assumption.” When he scowled pointedly at the glass of whiskey I held, I sighed, praying for patience, I knew I didn’t have. “This is my second drink, not that I have to justify that to you. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m a grown man.”
“With alcoholic tendencies.”
“Inherited from you, thanks,” I replied under my breath, lifting the glass to my lips.
“What was that?” My father barked, sliding his hands into his pockets, his eyes assessing me coldly. Mom swiveled in the barstool to face him.
“Michael, leave him be, please.”
“I’ll leave him be when he starts acting like a grown man and not a perpetual teenage waste-case.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips, which only stroked the rage in my father’s eyes.
And he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.
My father was so busy trying to pick a fight with me that he didn’t realize my personal assistant approaching. Tai looked massively uncomfortable, her gaze shifting from my parents to me.
“Calum, could I speak to you for a moment?” Her hesitant inquiry was the welcomed save I needed from this. I took one last rebellious sip and set my half-filled glass down, never breaking eye contact with the stubborn old man until I stepped past him.
I followed her outside, feeling only half reluctant about it, even though I knew the subject she’d likely want to talk about. Tai was the lesser of the evils to deal with right now. Once we were safely outside, she turned to face me.
Pulling my pack of smokes out, I lit one. Smoking cigarettes was a recent habit; it gave my mouth and hands something to do during those moments when my mouth and hands would doubtlessly get me into trouble. Drawing in the nicotine, I cocked a brow at Tai, waiting.
Vices, all I seemed to do was interchange them. I’d quit this too when the time was right.
“So I guess congratulations are in order…” she tilted her head, her brow furrowing.
“Thanks.” I kept my tone—and my expression—as neutral as I could.
“Any other secrets I should know about?” she quipped pensively, crossing her arms.
“Come on, Tai,” I frowned.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little cross. This is going to be hell to spin to the media.“ I let out a huff of aggravation, and it was met with a stern look. “Cal. This looks bad. This is bad.”
“Can you give me a grace period to figure this shit out for myself?”
“We’re trying. I’m trying. I’m trying to look out for your best interest, and the best interest of the band, Cal. I’m not the enemy here. Be happy that Paul didn’t come in my stead.” Tai clipped. “The label isn’t happy about that canceled show, but since it never happens—they’re willing to let it slide this time.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “How noble of them. Not like I had to pay the venue or anything.”
Tai shot me a look. “The label wants to meet with you to discuss the best way to break this to the fans.”
“My private life is my private life. I don’t want the label managing it in any fucking way, and I’ll tell Paul that myself. I’m not breaking anything to the fans.”
Tai sighed with great exasperation. “Your private life is very much tied to your music. Your image, your reputation—all of that matters very much to the band and to the label.”
I said nothing. My jaw clenched with aggravation. We both knew she was right, but I just didn’t want to fucking deal with it right then. Sensing that, Tai let out another sigh, her tone and expression softening marginally. “I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a lot right now, and I get it. But your fans will find out, they always do. And the label wants to be ahead of it. They want to control the narrative. When you come back to Toronto, we’ll book a meeting and—”
“I’m not going back to Toronto,” I interjected. “At least not right now.”
“What?” She blinked, like she didn’t quite trust that she’d heard right.
“I’m buying a house and moving here. We’ll set up a conference call to figure everything else out once I’ve had some time to process things.”
“Calum,” Tai tilted her head, her eyes pleading as if she was going to argue with me about my decision.
I shook my head, the look in my eyes effectively cutting her off. “I don’t have to be at the studio to work. I can write anywhere. The guys understand this and support me in it. We can fly out for big events, we’ll still go on tours for new albums, but right now, I need time to figure this out. In nine years, we haven’t taken a break. The label can give us that much.”
Tai nodded stiffly, looking past me through the glass panes of the door. The betrayal in her eyes was evident. We’d never kept her so out of the loop before. A part of me felt responsible but compared to everyone else I’d let down over the years, this betrayal was meager.
“I’m not quitting, I promise,” I assured her, gentler this time. “I just need to take a break to regroup. We’ll still be working on the new album and writing songs, but Tai…
please understand. I need to be here—I need to get to know my son.”
She studied me for a moment before responding. “I understand.” She finally said. “We’ll talk later. Good luck with everything.”
Her voice had lost the pip it usually carried, and her smile was slighted and tight as she glanced once more before turning and walking out to the waiting cab she must have called for some time before dragging me outside.
Watching the taillights disappear, I exhaled and looked up to the sky. I wasn’t ready to go back in the bar. My parents’ house was only an eight-minute walk, and the thought was tempting. Before I could commit, the door was opening, and Dare and Evan stepped outside to join me.
Calum
How’d Tai take it?” Dare asked as Evan fished a cigarette tin out of his suit’s chest pocket. Opening it with a flick of his thumb, he pulled out a rolled joint and lifted it to his lips.
Looking askew at Dare, I replied. “She took it.”
Evan flicked his lighter open, the smell of cannabis permeating the air as it burned. He drew in deeply, pulling the smoke into his lungs before releasing it with a cough. “Cal.”
He held it out to me, and my eyes dropped down to it. Seven days ago, I wouldn’t have thought twice about taking it. In this industry, drugs were everywhere. Cannabis was the tamest thing available to us. We could get our hands on anything if we wanted. I’d tried coke a couple of times at parties where everyone else was doing it, and I thought it’d numb things. It always amplified it, which is why I stuck to cannabis and whiskey.
But tonight, I needed my head on straight.
I shook my head, refusing it. Feeling the guys worried eyes on me, I had no choice but to explain. “I have to be somewhat sober for the conversation I need to have with my parents.”
Dare placed a heavy hand on my shoulder and sent me a sympathetic look. “If you need a couch to crash on, you know Mama Deen can spare one.” We’d taken to calling Dare’s mother, Nadine, Mama Deen when we were in middle school. Evan and I had spent a lot of time there, jamming in the garage.
“Thanks,” I said, a slight weight lifted off my shoulder. One problem solved. I didn’t particularly feel like checking into a hotel if things turned sour later on, and the possibility that they would was incredibly high. I knew my father, and I knew myself.
“Don’t know why you don’t crash on your baby mama’s couch. Harper’s even hotter now.” Evan remarked, pausing to smoke. A gray cloud puffed out of his mouth, as it split into a wide grin. My brows pinching together, I scowled at him.
“Watch it.”
“I’m just saying. You couldn’t have picked a more perfect woman to nut into!” He laughed. “Fuck, with my luck, I’d knock up some ugly groupie.”
“You with a kid, now that’s a terrifying thought,” Dare said with a shiver. “Besides, I think the ugliness would come from your contribution.” Evan laughed richly, undeterred by the razzing.
“Exactly. No glove, no love man. The pull-out method just ain’t effective, right Cal?” He said, flashing me a goofy grin.
“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, and Evan’s teasing tone vanished.
“Sorry, man. Just trying to lighten things up.”
I breathed in, trying to calm down. Evan was just being Evan; finding a joke in every situation was kind of his thing. And fuck, he was right. I’d always lived by that same rule; until Harper.
She’d gone on birth control shortly after we met, and she was studious about taking it on time. Every morning at eight o’clock sharp, she’d take it. We used condoms, but sometimes—a lot of the time—we’d get carried away and wouldn’t have one.
Like the night I’d left.
After leaving my parents’ house that night, I tossed my bag and guitar in the back of my 1999 Jeep and drove straight to Harper’s. I parked down the street, my hands still trembling with adrenaline, and stared up at her bedroom window.
It wasn’t the first time I’d shown up in the dead of night, seeking her warmth and light after a fight with my old man.
I called her, and she answered on the first ring, her voice groggy with sleep. Not even five-minutes later, she was climbing into the passenger seat, dressed in her robe and a night gown.
She looked like a fucking angel that night, and I just couldn’t get the words out to tell her I was leaving. She knew something was up—she saw my swollen lip, saw the crushing defeat, and crawled onto my lap. She’d wrapped her arms around my neck and held me close.
One thing led to another. She started kissing me—first my cheeks, then my nose, the ever so carefully my broken lips. Before I could stop myself—my hands slid up her smooth legs, tugging her white nightgown up.
“I am sorry, Cal. You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Evan’s apology brought me back to the present, and I grunted in concurrence. I shoved my fingers through my hair, not caring that I was probably messing it up.
“It’s fine. I need to get back in there,” I lifted my chin toward the bar.
The guys nodded, following behind me as I pulled open the door and walked in. My parents were still where I’d left them, only now, Mom was lecturing him, her brows pinched together.
She fell silent when she caught us walking through the door.
“I’m ready to go now, Maeve,” Dad remarked stiffly.
Sensing an opportunity to finally get this dreaded conversation the hell over with, I nodded curtly. “Me, too.” Both of my parent’s swiveled to look at me—one with a pleasant surprise, the other with unwavering hardness.
“You’re not going to stay with your bandmates and drink all the bar’s contents?” My father scoffed.
“Guess I’m not all that thirsty today.” I retorted, holding his gaze. He looked away first, sending a disapproving scowl to where Evan and Dare were standing with two pretty blondes sidled beside them.
“This is a funeral reception, not pick up hour.”
I said nothing in response, mostly because there wasn’t anything for me to say. What the guys did on their own time was their business, not mine, and certainly not my father’s. Besides, Gramps likely would have been amused watching Evan try to score with the same girl who’d accidentally pulled his pants down and laughed at him in grade six during gym class.
“I’ll let your sister know we’re leaving.” Mom interrupted a strained moment later, before she walked the bar’s length to where Connor stood with a couple of her friends. I couldn’t make out what my mother was saying, but Connor’s eyes lifted to mine. I shook my head once, silently communicating that she didn’t need to come with us.
My sister held up her finger and mouthed the words “just a minute” to her friends before following Mom. She came to a stop in front of Dad.
“I’m going to crash at Michelle’s tonight if that’s okay? I don’t get to see her anymore.”
“All right, but don’t accept drinks from strangers. And don’t leave your drink unattended. Call a cab, or call me—“
“I know the routine, Daddy.” Connor smiled as she stepped forward to hug him. A moment later she pulled away and hugged Mom before she turned to me, her eyes searching and apprehensive. I tried to reassure her as best as I could silently, but I knew she worried I’d be gone by the time she got home.
Depending on how the conversation went, I very well could be…but at least I wasn’t going far this time.
Dad led the way to the car, parked down the street. Rather than get in with them and drive, I opted for the heel-toe express. I tugged the pack of cigarettes out of my coat while my dad held the passenger door open for my mother, and she climbed in. “See you back at the house,” I said before sliding one between my lips.
He shook his head with disgust at the cigarette in my mouth as I clicked the lighter and lit the smoke. Dad’s door slammed shut, and a moment later, he was pulling out of the parking spot and driving down the street. My boots thudded against the cold concrete sidewalk as I started walking. While I smoked, my thoughts drifted to Harp
er…and to Asher.
In less than seven days, everything had exorbitantly changed in my life. Music couldn’t fill the emptiness I’d felt before gazing upon Harper’s face again. Seeing her desire for me still living and reflected in her irises, I wanted to stay and never leave her…and that was before I even knew about the kid.
Our kid.
I couldn’t help but think about all the challenges she must have faced over the years, trying to raise our son and pursue her own dreams. It pained me that she hadn’t believed I would support her, but I couldn’t expect any different. I’d left, I hadn’t come back, hadn’t so much as picked up a goddamn phone to text her. I only had myself to blame.
But those days of running were over. They were over the moment I saw her again, and now that I knew about Asher, there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to leave them both again. I closed my eyes, regret plowing into me.
The first thing I was going to need to do was to call my lawyer and figure out how much child support I owed. I owed her a hell of a lot more than a cheque, that was for damn sure. There was a lot of shit to figure out, but I was determined to make it right. I wouldn’t stop until I’d repaired all that I’d damaged.
Feeling steadier in my resolve, I walked up the front steps of my parents’ house and drew in a deep breath before opening the door.
The kettle was screeching when I walked inside, so I headed toward the kitchen, finding both of my parents there. When I rounded the corner, Dad was lifting the kettle from the burner. He didn’t look up as he poured the boiling water into two of my mom’s favourite teacups—the ones she inherited from her mother.
Mom was sitting at the table, a bottle of Advil and a glass of water in front of her. She perked up when she noticed me lingering in the doorway. My hands were shoved into my pockets to hide their trembling. “Would you like a tea, Calum?” she asked.
“No, I’m good, Ma. Thanks.” I tugged out a chair and sat down across from her, letting a sigh escape and placing my hands against table’s cold oak surface. “I have something I need to tell you both.”
Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1) Page 12