Mitch had come inside and attempted to make polite conversation with my mom and dad. My parents were cold and dismissive, nothing new there. They had asked him why he didn’t get a real job and I had wanted to slap them both.
My grandmother on the other hand had already downed a half a bottle of wine and proceeded to comment on his “tight bottom” and gave it a pinch in full view of my grandfather, who continued to smoke his cigar and talk about politics.
“I thought she was going to slip me her phone number. She gave me a wink as we were leaving if I remember correctly,” Mitch mused.
“Oh my god,” I groaned.
“I don’t know, maybe she was trying to get her grand-cougar on.”
“G—Grand-cougar?” I sputtered.
Mitch’s face split into a wide grin and he laughed loudly. “Your face is priceless!”
I smacked his knee with my hand, trying to ignore how good it felt to touch him. “I’m going to need more therapy just to erase the thought of my grandmother grand-cougaring.” I shuddered.
“Even grandmas need lovin’, G.”
He used the nickname again. My heart fluttered wildly and my stomach did a few somersaults.
“Okay, enough already! My poor brain can’t take the images!” I poked my fingers in my ears.
Mitch pulled my hands down. “I’ll stop scarring you. I promise,” he said and I realized instantly how close we were. His continued to lightly hold my hands in my lap where they had dropped after he had pulled them from my face. I wanted to curl my fingers and intertwine them with his.
But I couldn’t.
His hands weren’t mine to hold.
I pulled away and wiped my suddenly damp palms on my jeans. “So, I guess we should go back inside. The fire seems to be dying down.” I motioned towards the bonfire, which was barely smoldering.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cold out here. I should probably call Sophie back,” Mitch remarked blandly. Her name was said as though to make a point.
I get it, Mitch. I really do.
“Yeah, you don’t want her wondering where you are.” I realized I sounded as though I were chewing on broken glass. Brittle and bleeding.
Mitch got to his feet and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He started to walk away but then stopped, turning back to face me.
“I know things have been…well…bad between us. This past weekend got a little out of control, I think,” he said, not quite meeting my eyes.
“Yeah, it did. I guess we both had stuff that we wanted to say, but that wasn’t the place to do it,” I agreed, clenching my hands together in my lap—the hands that he had so briefly held between his own.
“We used to talk about everything,” Mitch said quietly.
“And now we don’t talk about anything,” I continued just as quietly.
We were both silent, the only noise was that of the crackling fire and the soft strains of laughter drifting down from the house.
“I’ve tried really hard not to think about you,” Mitch admitted, his chin tucked into his chest.
“I understand—” I started to say, but he cut me off.
“I go about my day. I live my life. And I push you so far from my thoughts that it’s easy to forget what it’s like just being around you,” he went on. He tilted his head back to stare up at the clear night sky.
“But then when you’re around, I remember. And it hurts, Gracie. It hurts a lot.” Mitch’s voice cracked and he stopped speaking. I wondered if he was going to finish.
God, I wanted him to finish.
After a few minutes he lowered his head and finally looked at me. It was too dark to see much of his face, but I could see the fire glinting in his eyes and that was enough.
“I remember how much fun we always had. I remember how you’d kick my ass playing X-Box and then rub it in my face for a good three days afterwards.”
“Only because it was richly deserved,” I interjected.
Mitch sort of smiled. A slight lifting of lips that quickly fell again. “I remember Chunky Monkey and you sleeping in my bed even when I couldn’t touch you. Not like I wanted to. I remember how you’d listen to me play my music and you made sure to be right up front, so I could see you from the stage. That meant a lot, Gracie. I don’t think you realize how much.”
“It meant a lot to me too. I love hearing you play. I always have.”
Mitch’s lips thinned and he glanced down at the ground. “Yeah, I remember all that great stuff and I get angry, Gracie. Really fucking angry. And resentful as hell. Because we don’t have that anymore. I can’t pick up my phone and call you when shit goes down with the label. I can’t text you after a show and tell you how it went. I lost my best friend. And that pisses me off.”
“I’m sor—”
“Please don’t apologize. I know you’re sorry. It’s on your face every time I see you,” he laughed bitterly. “I know you regret what happened. God, if I could go back, I’d do things differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have opened that damn door at all.”
Ouch. Okay, that really hurt. Mitch knew how to play rough.
I opened my mouth to explain I didn’t regret being with him. That I could never regret that. I just regretted how I behaved afterwards. It was important that he knew that. I needed to say it and he needed to hear it. But he was still talking. And his next words shut me up.
“I’m with Sophie now. That’s what I should be focused on. I need to be thinking about what the hell I’m going to do if the band falls apart. I have to have a plan. I can’t go through life without one. I’ve been drifting by for long enough.” He ran his hands through his hair. “So I have some shit to sort out. And I can’t be all tied up in knots over you anymore. I can’t worry about what I’ll do if I see you. I can’t spend my nights obsessing over everything you say and don’t say. It’s not fair to Soph. It’s not fair to me. That can’t be my life anymore.”
“This is okay,” he continued. “Us talking and being somewhat normal together. We have to be. My friends are your friends. My town is your town. We’re going to see each other. It’s inevitable. And with Jordan and Maysie getting married, we’re going to be in each other’s lives in one way or another for the foreseeable future. But that’s it. We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.”
“If that’s what you need, Mitch. I understand,” I told him, my voice rough and crushed.
Mitch’s shoulders sagged and he gave me a look that broke my heart all over again. Because I had done this.
I had ruined so much more than I had ever realized.
“It’s the only way it can be, Gracie.” He let out a breath and turned toward Garrett’s house. “I’ll see you later.”
And then he was gone.
“I’ll see ya,” I murmured after he had left.
Day one of my new life.
Wake up.
Get a shower.
Get dressed.
Eat breakfast.
Sit at the kitchen table and try not bang my head against the wood over and over and over again.
It was really fucking boring.
“You’ve been staring at that newspaper for over an hour. Do the words change if you look at it long enough?” Garrett asked, pouring a cup of coffee. He was already dressed, which was surprising considering the guy typically didn’t get out of bed until midday.
“What are you doing up already?” I asked him.
“I’m heading up to see Riley, remember. I’ll be gone until next week.” He dumped three spoonfuls of sugar into his cup and stirred. “No crazy parties until I get back. You can’t have that shit going on unless I’m here to enjoy it.”
“Yes, Dad,” I said, pushing the paper away from me.
“What’s with all the early morning angst? Girl trouble? I saw you out by the bonfire with Gracie last night. Is that what’s gotten your panties all in a bunch? I sincerely hope you two ironed out all your shit. It’s been going on long enough, don’t you think?” Garrett sat dow
n across from me and grabbed a donut from the box Maysie had brought over earlier. She had already been by with groceries. I think she thought that we were going to either starve or resort to cannibalism if she didn’t take care of us. Though I wasn’t going to say anything to the contrary, because I really hated going grocery shopping.
“No, this has nothing to do with Gracie,” I told him, proud of myself for saying her name without wanting to vomit.
Garrett raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me.
“So I just imagined all that unresolved tension between the two of you last night?”
“Dude, I have a girlfriend,” I reminded him.
Maybe I needed the reminder too.
I really hated that stupid inner voice.
“Yeah, well perhaps that’s the problem,” Garrett remarked dryly. I did not want to talk about Gracie. I had dealt with that shit last night. I had been proud of how I handled things. I had laid it all out there. I had told Gracie that I didn’t want to ignore her. That I wasn’t going to avoid her the way I knew she had been avoiding me. I wanted to be civil. Mature even.
We’ll be old friends that used to be close but have drifted apart.
Just maybe I could force myself to believe it.
Because hell if I could face her apologies from here to freaking eternity. I’d had enough of those.
It’s what was best. For everyone. There was no future with Gracie.
Was there a future with Sophie?
I was trying to figure out the answer to that.
I was pretty sure I already knew.
“Are you going to be back in time for our call with Pirate on Friday? Or are you just going to conference in?” I asked him, ignoring his barb.
“No, I’ll be back for that,” he said grimly.
Neal had called yesterday as we were on our way back to Bakersville. He had already spoken with Tate and Danvers and they wanted to set up a conference call next week.
“They want to get everything out on the table. They’ve made some decisions that they want to talk to you about,” Neal had said. We pressed him about what those decisions were but he claimed he didn’t know.
I didn’t like being left hanging. None of us did.
“All of this is exhausting. I used to think there would be nothing better than landing a record deal and playing shows all the time. Now I realize how naïve I was. How naïve we all were. We were living in la-la land,” Garrett said, finishing off the donut.
“Yeah, well the real world sucks. I wanted to live a little while longer in la-la land,” I muttered, pulling the newspaper back towards me. I wasn’t sure what even the hell I was looking for. I poured over the want ads until my eyes hurt. There wasn’t really a job out there that was perfect for an “almost rock star.”
“I don’t know, man. Maybe it’s time we all grow up,” Garrett remarked off handedly.
I gave him a wry look. “You sound like your girlfriend.”
Garrett laughed. “Yeah, I guess I do. But it’s something to think about.”
I folded the paper and carried it over to the recycling bin, shoving it in. Garrett was right. We all had some thinking to do.
“Mitch!”
My mother held open the screen door and pulled me into a hug.
“Hey, Ma,” I said, my voice muffled by her shoulder.
Mom pulled back and gave me the maternal once over. “You need to shave. And a good haircut. Come sit down and I’ll grab my scissors. Your dad just stepped out to pick up some firewood. He’ll be back soon. Your sister isn’t here yet. She ran into traffic on 64.”
She ushered me into the kitchen and pushed me down into a chair. My mother wasn’t the sort to waste time on pleasantries. She’d have you in a chair with a plate full of food while sewing the hole in your shirt before you could even say hello.
For my entire life, my mother had been larger than life. She was the kind of woman that took her role as matriarch very seriously. “I was born to be a mother,” she liked to say and damned if she didn’t mean it.
And she didn’t think twice about welcoming anyone who needed a mother figure with open arms.
After Garrett’s parents’ died, he spent most evenings here, in this kitchen, as my mother fussed over him and made sure he was eating enough vegetables. Garrett loved my mother. She was one of the few people, aside from Riley, who could make the guy smile.
And when Cole’s parents had all but abandoned him, my mom picked up the slack, taking him care packages after he moved into his apartment and making sure he had warm socks and pillows for his bed. She took the man shopping for curtains, for Christ’s sake!
She was a sucker for an abandoned puppy. And Cole and Garrett were her favorite abandoned puppies.
“You should have invited the boys to come with you! I haven’t seen Cole, Garrett, or Jordan in so long! Is Jordan still with that lovely girl, Maysie?” she asked, wrapping a towel around my neck and picking up the scissors.
“He is. They’re getting married in August. So be on the look out for an invitation,” I told her, holding perfectly still as she snipped the long pieces of hair around my ears.
“Oh, a wedding! I can’t wait! I love weddings! I keep hoping your sister will finally find someone to settle down with, but I won’t hold my breath.” My thirty-year-old sister had incredibly bad luck when it came to men. Her high school boyfriend had turned out to be gay and her daughter’s dad, who she had been with for almost three years, had taken off the minute he found out she was pregnant. So now Charlotte was doing the single mom thing and I was pretty sure she wasn’t looking to put on a white dress and walk down the aisle any time soon.
Mom leaned down and peered into my face. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for you to settle down then. Though it won’t be the same when you get married. The mother of the groom doesn’t get to do anything fun,” she pouted good-naturedly. She pulled the hair on my forehead between her fingers and started to snip again. “So how is Sophie?” she asked, her voice deceptively light. I knew what she was doing. She was digging. And Mom was one hell of a digger.
“She’s fine,” I said shortly.
“Fine? That’s it? I ask you how your girlfriend is doing and all you can say is that she’s fine? Maybe you should bring her around for dinner again so I can see for myself how she’s doing.” She got out a brush and swept the back of my neck.
“I don’t know. I think she’s busy,” I replied dismissively.
Mom stilled, her hands coming to rest heavily on my shoulders. “Is there a reason we’ve only met this woman twice? Why won’t you bring her around? Are you embarrassed of us or something?” She sounded hurt and I felt horrible. It was so completely far from the truth.
“No, Mom! Of course I’m not embarrassed of you. All my friends love you and Dad. You know that Garrett and Cole would move in if you’d let them,” I told her, trying to make up for being such an insensitive prick.
“Then what’s going on? Why won’t you bring your girlfriend to see us? You used to bring Gracie around all the time. Is there something wrong with this Sophie that you don’t want me to know about?” she asked, sounding suspicious.
“Mom, Gracie was never my girlfriend,” I said tiredly.
“Humph. Sure could have fooled me with the way the two of you looked at each other,” she grumbled. There was no sense arguing with her. Mom lived by the adage, “Mother’s always right.”
“There’s nothing wrong with Sophie. She’s just really shy. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” It was a lame excuse and not even an honest one.
I knew my mother would have Sophie relaxed and at ease in no time. It was her talent.
The truth was, I had no excuse. I just never thought about inviting Sophie to hang out with my family. The two times she had been to my parents’ house had been purely by accident. We had bumped into them at the store and had been promptly invited for dinner. Sophie hadn’t been overly enthused by the whole thing so I hadn’t bothered to
bring her around again.
“She seems like a nice girl,” Mom commented hesitantly as though expecting me to disagree.
“Yeah, she’s a nice girl,” I said as she took the towel off my shoulders and handed me a mirror.
A nice girl.
Constant. Always there.
That’s what had been important.
“See how much better you look when people can actually see those gorgeous eyes of yours?” Mom cooed, kissing me on the cheek.
I got to my feet and wrapped my arms around her slight frame. “You’re the only woman I need in my life, Ma.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said with a laugh. “What will you do when I’m too old to make you your favorite chicken pot pie? Someone has to ensure you eat properly and have clean underwear on.”
“Mom. You haven’t checked my underwear since I was ten,” I protested.
“Um, why are we talking about Mitch’s underwear?” A woman who looked like an older, female version of me walked into the kitchen carrying a six-month-old baby who sported a head full of brown curls.
“There’s my favorite little girl,” Mom crowed with pleasure, holding out her arms so she could take the baby from my sister. Charlotte handed my niece, Madison, over to our mom and gave me a quick hug.
“Hey, baby brother. Long time no see. I got the package of baby stuff last month. Thank you so much. A gal can never have too many diapers and burp clothes. Though it would have been better to actually see you,” she said mildly, giving me her best glare.
“Yeah, if I could have gotten off the tour I would have in a fucking heartbeat,” I said.
“Watch your mouth around my granddaughter, Mitch Allen Abrams!” my mother scolded.
“Sorry, Ma,” I muttered. Charlotte smirked.
“So the tour was that bad? I thought you were going to be the next big rock star. You were supposed to be my ticket to the easy life, Mitchie. Way to crap on my dreams of swimmin’ pools and movie stars,” she kidded, sitting down at the kitchen table as Mom took the baby into the next room.
“Guess you’ll have to wait until those royalties kick in from being a pain in my ass.” Charlotte smacked the back of my head and I grinned at her.
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