by Amelia Mae
“Really? Why?” I ask.
“I’m just… My dad had a family there. He found another woman and… I have a sister,” she says.
“Wow.”
“And I’m not looking forward to seeing the life he had after he left my family. I don’t want to think about how insecure that’s going to make me.”
I have no idea what to say. No amount of telling Nikki that she’s special and perfect and enough is going to make her believe it.
So I kiss her again, a little harder this time.
“I love you,” I whisper against her mouth. “So much.”
She kisses me back.
“So much.”
Thirty-Five
Nikki
Jack helps me rent a car and kisses me goodbye before I hit the road. The eight hours that I spend driving to Salt Lake City give me a lot of time to think. I try as hard as I can to recall any memory of my dad, but I have nothing. I rack my brain, trying to recall stories Ian or my mother had told me, but…
It’s all just someone else’s memories.
I have none of him that are my own.
Except leaving my job on tour with a major rock band to drive eight hours to his funeral.
Mostly, I think of my mother.
By the time I was old enough to have memories, she was done crying about him. She barely ever mentioned him. But she was also working full time and dealing with two young kids, so she barely had time to eat, let alone mourn.
My mother never dated again. She never even tried. She had offers, of course. She was charming and beautiful, but always turned them down. Once her heart was broken, it was broken forever.
I know how she felt.
When Jack abandoned me in New York the night his father died, I felt gutted. Scraped. Empty inside. I almost told him to fuck out of my life completely and stayed in New York to spite him.
I understand that he acted out of doubt, desperation, and grief. But it doesn’t take away the fact that when faced with something difficult, his instinct was to run away.
By the time I get to my hotel, I’m even more antsy and distraught than when I started driving. My thoughts race.
I’ve never let the fact that I grew up without my father around hold me back. I hate the term “daddy issues” with a fiery passion.
But as I check in and find my way to my room, I’m doing something that I’m even less comfortable with. I’m bringing Jack into it.
I’m making a connection between my father abandoning our family and the fact that I’ve chosen to spend my life with someone who I have to work so hard to be with.
To show him that being in a relationship with me, committing to me was… worthwhile.
I try and remember that Jack and I are solid now. Whatever happens between us, whether or not we ever get married, we’re the real deal. We belong together. I’ll never love anyone like I love Jack.
But there will always be that little voice.
Jack won’t marry you, Nikki. He never will. Your own father wouldn’t commit to you, so why should Jack?
It’s ridiculous. I know that.
But it’s there. And it might always be.
My phone dings with a text from Jack.
Jack: Tell me you got there okay.
Nikki: I’m here. In the motel now.
Jack: I wish I were with you.
Nikki: I know, right? Waste of a perfectly good motel room.
I give him the opportunity to get less serious.
Jack: You know what I mean.
Nikki: I know what you mean. And it means a lot.
Then, I type out the one thing I’ve been feeling the most intensely since I got into that rental car and hit the road.
Nikki: I hope coming here wasn’t a mistake.
Jack takes a minute before deciding on a reply. I can tell because the three little dots keep appearing and disappearing.
Jack: It’s not.
Jack: It’s not going to be easy and this whole experience might weigh on your mind for a while. But the closure is good for you.
Jack: Trust me.
If anyone knows what this moment feels like, it’s Jack.
Nikki: I do trust you.
Nikki: How’s Ian?
Nikki: He didn’t return my texts. Is he holding up okay?
Jack: He’s been on the phone with Cora a lot. She’s helping him get through this.
Jack: And I think he did some FaceTime-ing with a therapist this morning.
Nikki: I’m glad to hear that.
Jack and I say goodnight and he tells me that he loves me. I’m about to try and sleep when another text comes in.
Sarah: Hi Nikki. Was the drive okay?
Sarah. My new half-sister. Well, I mean, new in that I just found out about her.
As petty as it is, I’m determined not to learn anything about her. I don’t want to know her. I’m barely comfortable with the idea of a girl, just like me, who was actually able to get my father to be there while she was growing up.
Why her and not me? Why her mother and not mine?
And yet, her text is concerned. Sisterly, even.
I have no right to resent her. And yet, I do.
Nikki: It was fine. Thanks.
I hope that’s the end of it. I hope I can just sleep, get up, go to this funeral, and be back on the road by noon. There. Closure. Done.
And maybe, maybe, sometime in the future. Months, maybe years, from now, I’ll reach out to Sarah. I’m sure she’s a lovely person.
But, right now, I don’t want to let her in.
Sarah: Nikki, would you meet me for a drink?
Nikki: Right now?
I look at the digital clock over the television. It’s about seven in the evening. Somehow, my body thought it was midnight. But I guess it’s too early for bed.
On second thought, maybe it would be best to get my first, and maybe only, meeting with Sarah over with. I’m going to be face to face with her tomorrow anyway.
Maybe it’d be better this way.
Sarah: No pressure. But I’d like to meet you in person.
Sarah: Before… you know…
Nikki: Yeah. Meeting is a good idea.
Nikki: I’m at the Motel 6 closest to the church. There’s a bar down the street called Clancy’s. Do you know it?
Sarah: Yeah. I can be there in about half an hour.
I take a quick shower and change my shirt, trying to think of what I’m going to say when I see her. How do I even greet her? Hugging seems too… huggy. Handshake is too informal.
Before I realize it, I’m halfway to panicking. I made it a point not to Google search Sarah Brooks or to look her up on social media. But I seriously want to right now.
Instead, I call Ian. Thankfully, he answers on the second ring.
“Hey, Nikki,” he says. “You make it okay?”
“Yeah. I’m at the motel now. The drive wasn’t so bad.”
“That’s good,” he tells me. “Um… you doing okay? I mean…”
“I know what you mean.”
I have to tell him. Just rip off the Band-Aid.
“I’m going to have a drink with Sarah,” I blurt out.
“I thought you didn’t want to meet her yet.”
“I didn’t. I mean, I don’t. But… I should meet her, right? She’s our sister.”
“Technically, yes,” he agrees. “But you don’t owe her anything, Nikki. You don’t owe him anything, either. If you want to bail right now and come back to the tour, you have every right to.”
“I know.”
Damn. I was counting on Ian to come up with something that gives this terrible moment some perspective. But he’s coming up short.
“Do you want me to come out there?” he asks.
“I thought you didn’t want to come to the funeral.”
“I don’t. But I’ll be there for you if you want me there.”
“No, I don’t want you to drive all the way out here,” I tell him.
�
�I will, though…”
“I know you will,” I add. “I need to be here for this, even if I can’t explain why. I need… I need to see the life I could have had if Jeremy Brooks had stuck around for us.”
Ian sighs.
“I understand, Nikki. I really do,” he says. “But, don’t downplay the life we did have. We had mom. We had Aunt Mary. And now, you and I have each other. And Cora and Alicia. And you’ve got Jack. We’ve had a great life without him. There’s no guarantee that life would have been better with him.”
“That… makes a surprising amount of sense,” I say, surprised.
Ian’s a smart man, but he’s never been particularly insightful.
“That therapist is really good,” he says.
“Maybe I should get her number.”
As I mull over the idea of honing in on Ian’s therapist, I overhear some scuffling in the background. Someone’s talking to Ian. Definitely a guy.
“Where are you?” I ask.
“Dressing room,” he answers. “We’re going on in about fifteen minutes.”
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you called. But I’ve got to get going.”
“Yeah. Have a good show,” I tell him. “I’ll, um… I’ll call you tomorrow. Before I start driving back.”
“Good,” he says. “Be safe, Nikki. I love you.”
I tell my brother that I love him and hang up.
I take a long look in the mirror while blow-drying my hair. Ian’s right. We’ve had a great life. A tremendous life. With a lot of good times and a lot of love in it.
Whatever happens tonight with Sarah or tomorrow, as we bury Jeremy Brooks, I can’t let it make me feel less than.
Thirty-Six
Nikki
I get to Clancy’s first and quickly order a shot of bourbon, which I down quickly, before Sarah shows up. It hits my system fast, but not fast enough.
I’m about to order another when I spot a dark-haired woman entering the bar. She can’t be much younger than I am, but she has my eyes.
And, as weird as this sounds, we walk the same way.
She comes right to me. Like she knows I’m who she’s looking for.
This is my sister.
“Nikki?” she asks. “I’m Sarah.”
“Nice to meet you.”
She doesn’t try to hug me or shake my hand. She just gestures to the barstool next to mine.
“May I?” she asks.
I nod.
“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she says politely.
“Uh-huh.”
It’s all I’m able to say. I can’t commit to an emotional response. Despite everything I believe about not comparing myself to other women and making stupid things into a competition, I immediately size Sarah up.
She’s taller than I am, but that’s not hard to be. She’s got long, dark hair, glasses, and she looks like she works out. She’s wearing jeans, a blouse, and a leather jacket, looking both bookish and rebellious at once.
“Ian didn’t want to join us?” she asks.
“Ian didn’t come.”
She looks disappointed. “Oh.”
“Wanted to meet your famous half-brother, huh?” I say, half-teasing, half testing to make sure she’s not crawling out of the woodwork looking for money or something. “Well, you have to settle for me, I guess.”
“That’s fine. I’m excited to meet you, Nikki. I’ve always wanted a sister.”
“Yeah.”
I want to say something like me too, I’ve always wanted a sister too, but I can’t. I can’t say anything intelligent. So, I just wait for her to talk more.
“Well, I already know what Ian does for a living…”
I cut her off. “Wanted to fangirl a little?”
“Not really. Kind of gross, especially now that I know we’re related, isn’t it?” she asks with a little laugh. “Shawn’s more my type.”
“He’s married.”
I say it so quickly and so bluntly that it sounds really bitchy. My guard is up.
“I know,” she giggles. “I saw something about it in a tabloid at the grocery store. Also how I know that you’re dating Jack Cordero. Though you two seem to do a better job at keeping out of the public eye.”
“Sarah, what do you do for a living?” I ask, changing the topic abruptly.
“I just finished my senior year at MIT,” she says. “I’m starting a research fellowship in the fall.”
“Oh.” I’m surprised. I thought she’d be in media or something with the immediate interest in the band. “That’s… awesome. Really impressive. You must be really smart.”
She shrugs. “What do you do?”
“Mostly, I work for Lexicon Records. That’s Say Yes’s label. I’m usually scouting new talent, but right now, I’m assisting the tour manager.”
“That’s so cool. Touring with a rock band,” she gushes. “God, I can’t even imagine.”
She sounds genuinely interested and I hate to disappoint her.
“It’s not as glamorous as all that, really. Usually, it’s keeping track of people and equipment, making sure that the guys are where the need to be when they need to be there,” I tell her. “It’s more like being a camp counselor than anything else. But, it’s fun. Mostly.”
“Still so cool,” she says, still in disbelief. She makes eye contact with the bartender and signals that we’d like two more drinks.
“What’s the fellowship?” I ask, even though I hadn’t planned on asking her personal details.
“Aerospace engineering.”
I must look confused because she immediately explains.
“We develop and construct spacecrafts,” she says. “And the software that runs them. That’s mostly what I do, anyway. The software stuff.”
“Wow…”
I picture Sarah, as a kid, winning first place at a science fair. Her mom and Jeremy standing behind her, proud as peacocks. Jeremy congratulating her. Telling her that he’s proud.
It hurts. But not as much as I think it will.
“Do you want to know what he was like?” she asks, suddenly.
“Huh?”
“You’ve been quiet for a minute. I can only assume that’s what you’re thinking about,” she explains.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, that’s what you were thinking about? Or yeah, you want to know?”
“I guess I want to know,” I answer.
“Okay,” she says, finishing her bourbon. “My dad was…”
I wait for her to tell me that he was a great, supportive father and he treated her mother like a queen. That, when he found the right family, he was the man he was always meant to be.
“Challenging,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow. That was not the answer I was expecting.
“Dad was… always searching for something. Like, the next thing. If he had something, he always wondered what was out there that was one step better.”
I say nothing. He was always searching for something better sounds like Jeremy Brooks.
“He had a lot of trouble holding down a job,” she continues.
“Drugs?”
She shakes her head no. “He just… he was afraid of getting stuck in a job. So he’d work for a few months, then quit because the job wasn’t exactly what he wanted.”
She pauses for a second.
“He cheated on my mom a lot, too,” she adds.
“Are there…”
“As far as I know, he didn’t have any more children. Unless a bunch of twenty-somethings who have our eyes show up tomorrow at the funeral, I’m pretty sure it’s just you, me, and Ian.”
It’s weird hearing her describe the three of us as siblings. It’s always been Ian and me against everything, but Sarah throwing herself into the mix doesn’t feel as intrusive as I thought it would.
After all, it’s not just me and Ian anymore, really. There’s Cora and Alicia. And Jack, of course.
I shouldn’t s
ay no to having more family.
“Sarah, I know that this is a really rude thing to say, but… you don’t seem… too sad about Jeremy’s passing,” I comment. I hope I didn’t just offend her.
“I know. I mean… I am, of course,” she replies. “I have some really wonderful memories with him. But he had cancer, and he was in a lot of pain. Ultimately, I feel kind of relieved that he isn’t suffering anymore.”
I nod. That’s perfectly understandable.
“And… this is where I sound like a terrible person,” she continues. “My father has always been a part of my life. But, sometimes, I feel like I never actually knew him,” she says.
I nod and let that sink in.
We drink another round of bourbons in silence. I need to cut myself off after this one or I’m going to show up to the funeral with a hangover. Not cute.
I yawn, the full day of driving finally catching up with me. I really need to get back to my room.
“Nikki, before you go… My fellowship is at CalTech,” she says. “I’ll be moving to Pasadena in August. So, I’ll be near you and Ian. Do you think we could ever…”
I swallow hard. She wants a relationship.
“I just can’t let more of my family get away without getting to know them, you know?” she asks.
“Yeah. I know.”
Sarah pays for the drinks and we say goodnight. She leans in for an awkward, but not terrible, one-armed hug.
“See you tomorrow. Bright and early,” she says.
“I’ll be there.”
Thirty-Seven
Jack
I should have gone with her.
The thought is on repeat in my head throughout the show. Luckily, I can play our set list for this tour in my sleep.
I know it’s not fair. The audience deserves my attention, and I try as hard as I can to keep my head in the game.
But I keep picturing my girlfriend alone in a motel room dealing with all that shit…
I should have gone with her.
We wrap up Rough Morning and head seamlessly into Hey, Darlin’, which is a song that I wrote for Nikki after we first got together. Well, officially got together, anyway.
Playing it now doesn’t really help me keep my mind on the fact that I’m supposed to be playing a sold-out show at this club.