Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3)

by Lowell, Chanse

  “I can see what it means—it means time away from my family, and I’m not willing to do that. They’re more than the cherry on top of my dessert. They’re the food that keeps me alive. I can’t leave them unless I’m working for an honest day’s pay or going to school.”

  “Adam. I’m serious—this is the crowd you need. You could play some of your original music. I know they’ll love it. And I won’t record any of it. I only want you to see what I see when I hear your songs—how talented you are and how it’s being pissed away. They’ll let you know the truth.”

  “I said no—and I don’t piss away anything. I’ve gotta go. You’ve taken five minutes and thirty-four seconds, so you can’t say I wasn’t generous with my time. Goodbye.”

  Adam turned his phone off and tucked it in his pocket.

  “All right—it’s time to bury our heads in hats.” He clapped his hands together, rubbed them and then set about making Button a blue hat to match his outfit.

  He would make his mama proud.

  * * *

  Mari slept a lot, but Adam was nice. He didn’t wake her.

  When it was time for the little man to eat, he helped her latch him on.

  As he put Meg to sleep by singing to her, he wondered why his song he’d made for Thomas was so popular.

  A new tune ran through his head, so he hummed it and mentally wrote down all the accompaniment.

  This one was different. It still had a driving beat like all the others did, but it was simpler—softer in a way.

  A story of love and binding commitment.

  All the things Thomas never understood.

  He glanced over at Meg, and she was breathing the sleepy way, so he got up and left her room.

  His feet carried him to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and then sat down at the table with a paper and pencil.

  He wrote.

  Then he wrote some more.

  The music wouldn’t stop.

  So, he kept going.

  Before long, he had twelve pages of music drafted out.

  “Whoa,” he whispered to himself.

  Choppy flopped at his feet under the table.

  “How am I ever going to have time to record all this?” He rubbed his eyes. They were burning he was so tired.

  He picked up the rough draft sheets of music and tucked them in his backpack.

  He’d deal with them later.

  He pulled out his textbook and started studying.

  For the next two hours, time dragged.

  That stupid song kept planting itself in his brain so he couldn’t concentrate.

  He had to reread the same passages over and over to comprehend what he was reading, even though he was dealing with fairly simple and straightforward material.

  After another half hour of brain-mush reading, he dropped his textbook on the coffee table, grabbed his keyboard and plugged in his headphones.

  Without the sheets of music in front of him, he pressed record and started playing it.

  When he was done, he ended the recording and checked the timer.

  Over ten minutes worth of song.

  Who would ever want to listen to his song that went on and on and never seemed to end?

  Maybe Mari would like it, and he could give it to her as an anniversary gift?

  He started mixing it with some techno beats and figured he’d add in some vocals later.

  The words hadn’t really surfaced yet anyway.

  He lay down on the couch and listened to it once more to make sure he was satisfied with this beginning version.

  His eyes drifted shut, and he fell asleep.

  * * *

  “Knock, knock,” came his mother-in-law Michelle’s voice.

  He groaned and sat up.

  “Oh, sorry. Did I wake you? Mari was supposed to go yard saling with me today.” Michelle was entirely too chipper.

  He mumbled something about how Mari was probably still asleep.

  A moment later he got up and found her in the shower.

  “Your mom’s here,” he told her. “She wants you to go junk shopping with her since it’s Friday, and she always says Saturday all the good stuff’s gone—it’s all picked over.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, I’m hurrying. I should be out in a few.”

  “Okay—I’ll let her know.”

  He stumbled back out into the family room.

  Meg was in her pajamas, talking to Gramgram for several minutes.

  He managed to tell Michelle briefly that Mari would be ready in a few minutes.

  “Were you composing last night?” Michelle asked him when Meg found her way over to him.

  She snuggled into his lap.

  “Yeah—I didn’t mean to—it just happened.”

  “Accidents just happen. Composing music isn’t an accident—you’re gifted,” she replied.

  “Not you, too? Jeez—Thomas won’t shut up about it. He wants me to go to some DJ event with him and play my own music.” He groaned and closed his eyes as he slumped in his seat.

  “He does?” Mari’s shocked voice rang out behind him.

  “He called me last night. I told him no.” He rubbed his jaw.

  “Why?” Michelle stared at him like he was a lunatic.

  “I’m happy with what I’m doing. I’ll be a doctor someday like my real dad.” He sat Meg next to him. She was falling back asleep so he set a throw pillow behind her head.

  “Do you want to do it, though?” Mari stood in front of him, her gaze piercing.

  “Yes and no.” He stroked Meg’s back.

  “Explain.” Mari waited, her face patient but focused.

  “I don’t know how.” He shook his head.

  “If Thomas wasn’t involved, would you go and do it?” Mari motioned for her mom to go ahead and head out to the car.

  Michelle left the room with a small wave cast his way.

  “Yeah, I would, but—” His eyes grew wide.

  Mari picked up his cell phone and started dialing a number.

  His breath got trapped by his stupid throat. “Who’re you calling? It’s too early!”

  “I’m calling your dad.” She handed it to him while it was ringing. “Tell him you’ll do it if he leaves the room when you’re on stage performing.”

  She gave him the parenting brow.

  “But this is—” Before Adam could argue, his dad was on the phone, coughing up a small Ewok.

  “Please tell me you’ve changed your mind and have seen the musical light,” Thomas said when he was done hacking.

  “I’ll do it if you’re not in the room when I’m doing my part,” Adam said with a clear concise tone.

  “Done. Anything else you need?”

  “No—other than directions. I’m not driving with you. I’ll take myself there and home. You’re not to speak to me outside of talking about this gig. I don’t trust you, and I doubt I ever really will.”

  “Well, Jesus—Adam. Tell me you wish I’d died already from lung cancer and my day will be complete.” Thomas chuckled.

  “You have lung cancer?” Adam’s pitch went up.

  “Yeah—just found out a month ago. I’ve been trying to tell you, but you never want to speak to me.”

  Adam cleared his throat. Mari waved goodbye.

  She leaned in and kissed him while she smiled.

  A moment later she had Button in a car seat and was leaving out the door.

  Meg was asleep at his side.

  “Tell me about your cancer. Just because I don’t like you doesn’t mean I want you to die. I don’t want anyone to die. It’s not a fun thing to do.” Adam kept stroking Meg’s back.

  What would it be like to have someone he cared about die? Like a child, Dustin, or even Amelia?

  What about . . .

  No—he couldn’t think about Mari being gone.

  The idea of it was crippling and numbers were already zipping into his mind.

  “Done a lot of stupid stuff over the years. All that drug use f
inally caught up to me.” Thomas wheezed.

  “What are you doing to take care of this?”

  “Nothing,” Thomas said.

  “Why not? Don’t you care about Mom?”

  “Of course I do, but I don’t believe in dragging out my life and making myself sicker than I already am, compromising the quality of life I have. Right now, I can take her out. We can do things together. I have pain medicine for when I need it, and I—”

  “I hope Mom keeps them away from you and she administers them to you when you truly need them—otherwise you might get addicted again and abuse them. Rehab is no joke.” Adam sat on the edge of the couch and quit touching Meg since he could see his hands wanted to be rough and tense now.

  She was fine. She’d stay fine if he stopped touching her.

  He . . . was not fine. This news made his chest clench like a door was slamming on it.

  Why did he care? Was it only because he was training and learning to be a medical professional?

  “Well, that’s your choice if you want to leave Mom behind bereft and miserable. My God—she just found you, and now you’re going to leave her just like that?” Adam snapped his fingers.

  “She knows why I’m doing this. I never served any jail time for what I did to you, and I never suffered physically over it the way I should’ve. This is my penance for not protecting you better. I deserve this. It’s only justice being meted out by God.”

  “You believe in God? Since when?” Adam snorted.

  “Since I lost you. I had to have something to hold onto, or I would’ve lost my sanity a long time ago. It’s through the grace of God I found the power within me to find your mother, admit to her the many atrocities I committed against her and then I was able to beg for her forgiveness. It took a while before she would listen, but then we found each other again. She did the same in return. We’ve both made a lot of mistakes, but I’m glad I confessed all my past wrongdoings.”

  “Good for you,” Adam said emotionless.

  “Look—I know you’re not normally an angry, bitter man. I know you reserve that for me, and I can’t blame you. All I ask is that over the next few years of my miserable existence, you allow me occasional contact, and if it’s only through music—so be it.”

  “Fine.” Adam stood up and paced, watching his feet as they shuffled.

  “Really?”

  “You didn’t say anything about the cancer affecting your hearing.” Adam’s throat constricted on him. It was like it knew he was being a little cruel.

  Thomas barked a laugh. “True. I did hear you, I just can’t believe it.”

  “Well, believe it, and quit smoking if you’re not going to have any medical treatment for your cancer. At least make it a little easier for your body to cope and act like a responsible adult. Take some supplements, at least. Vitamin D would help some.”

  “I can do that. What other kinds of supplements should I be looking at?”

  “I’ll send you a list.”

  “That sounds . . .” Thomas’s voice shook with deep emotion. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. I’m not a mean-spirited person normally, but I don’t know what to do with you in my life sometimes.” Adam wiped his brow. He was sweating.

  “I know you’re not.” Thomas paused. “Do you want to know what the gig is for?”

  “No. I’ll be prepared.”

  “Even if it’s for a bar mitzvah?” Thomas’s voice was light and teasing before he started coughing hard again.

  “Yeah—I’ll have it covered. If I know ahead of time, it’ll just make me lose creativity and I’ll be nervous. I’ll find out when I get there.”

  “Okay—I’ll text you the address soon along with the date and time.” He could hear the triumphant smile in Thomas’s floaty voice.

  “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you then.” Adam ended the call.

  His ear was even sweating.

  He went to the fridge, grabbed a can of soda and held it up to his ear, then rolled it over his forehead.

  This father of his was going to make him feel like he was the one being gnawed away at from the inside by a debilitating disease.

  And he’d find a way to talk some sense into his father.

  Cancer wasn’t the answer to the way he’d treated Adam.

  There were other ways to atone.

  Such as stop calling Adam and making his life miserable. That would be a good place to start.

  Chapter 5

  Adam wiped his sweating brow.

  His hands shook as he put his phone down.

  “Daddy, play with me?” Meg blinked, and her beautiful big eyes melted his heart.

  That was hard to do when right now he really wanted to eat some chips. Where did he put those?

  And his soda? Where did that go?

  He craned his neck around, and Meg bounced back in front of him.

  “Daddy.” Her eyes widened and she pursed her lips with her hands on her hips.

  “Friday means I have to do online classes,” he told her. “And I need to eat. Daddy’s need food, too.”

  “Not all daddies. Some daddies are in the hopasital and they eat through a tube. Bopbop told me.” She took a deep breath like he should know this by now since he was studying to be a doctor.

  “Grandpa likes to tell you more than he tells me, so you’ll be smarter than me. He should stop doing that. I’m supposed to be the smartest in this house.” He beat on his chest like a gorilla.

  She gave him a frown. “I’m smarter than you ‘cause I know how to play dolls better than you do.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  She smiled and went up on tiptoes for a moment, then set herself back down.

  Was she trying to be bigger than him, too?

  Not hard to do since after that phone call he was almost shrinking inside. God, that person should be shot.

  She frowned and tapped her toe when he didn’t answer. “Ears are for hearing. Mopmop told me that.” She waved to get his attention. “So, Daddy . . . Can’t you play dolls with me? I’ll show you how to do it better.”

  “You swear? I need to hone my skills at dressing a baby doll.”

  She swirled back and forth, making her skirt swoosh and sound cool.

  “After your nap, though, sweetie. It’s time to rest, and I have some things I’ve gotta finish first. Go lie down and start looking at books, and the time will pass in a flash.” She opened her mouth about to protest, but he kept going. “I’ll think of what kind of doll story we can make today while you’re resting and gaining your strength. Deal?” He set the egg timer for her, and she carried it off with her, a hopeful look in her eyes.

  She knew she had ten minutes to look at books and then she was to close her eyes and hum herself to sleep. That’s how afternoon naps went.

  Once she was in her room, he gulped down a soda, ate his chips so fast he barely tasted them, then logged on and started his test.

  Only his concentration was shaky.

  Damn that phone call. Why was it bothering him this bad?

  It wasn’t. It wouldn’t.

  He ran his sweating palms down his shorts. Nothing mattered but his family and his studies. That’s all he had to worry about.

  Well, and Choppy. She was important, too.

  He glanced over at his pal sleeping by the sliding glass door.

  Maybe he’d give her a bath tonight with Meg’s help. She liked blowing bubbles at their dog while he scrubbed the stink from her pretty coat.

  He went back to his test, wishing Choppy was closer so he could pet her and calm down a little better.

  Would it help, though? Really?

  He ignored the feelings lighting him up inside, setting his groin on fire.

  His legs almost twitched with masculine power.

  But it would have to wait.

  He swallowed hard, and the thought of what he could do after this test was done, set him back to his task with a much clearer focus.

  Good
. He needed this type of motivation.

  A very soon-to-be-naked Mari was all he needed to look forward to in order to accomplish his goals—his reward—his wife.

  She was why it all made sense.

  It didn’t take him long to finish the test once his head was back in the right space, and he felt pretty good about how it went.

  His father texted him a few minutes later to ask how the test went, and to also tell him they never did find his lab coat.

  Fridays his dad had off, so Adam was confused about why he mentioned the coat.

  Oh well. It didn’t matter. The coat would turn up. Things usually did that in his life.

  When he didn’t look, they almost bit him in the leg. Worse than Choppy when she needed to pee outside in the backyard and refused to use the doggy door.

  He got up and searched for Mari. He’d heard her come home when he was taking his test, but he was so absorbed in what he was doing he barely said hi to her as she passed by.

  Now was different. Now he could see all of her.

  Nakedness was important. The most important part of his day.

  He turned the corner into the living room and took a deep breath.

  She was reading on the couch, nursing the baby. Dressed—dammit!

  He lowered his head, keeping his eyes zeroed in on her and sort of bared his teeth while his fingers flexed.

  Yes, he could get her naked very quickly. Baby or no baby attached.

  He was better at stripping her down than Meg was at dressing her baby dolls.

  “Sweetie, I can feel you watching me,” she said, smirking while keeping her eyes on her phone.

  “You’re so pretty. Always my eyes search for you. I can’t help it. They love the way you look.” He leaned against the wall. If he got closer, he could smell her, too, but then he’d want to touch her and Button was fussy a lot today. Teething most likely.

  If the baby went to sleep, then he could strip her down and touch her wherever he wanted.

  His dick hardened just thinking about it. That was always a good feeling. The tingles. The soreness.

  He used to hate that feeling, but not anymore. Not now that he knew what it felt like when he released his semen inside her pussy nice and deep, where it belonged . . . Well, it was something he craved endlessly.