Read The Problem With Heartache Online

Authors: Lauren K. McKellar

The Problem With Heartache (4 page)

“Kate’s been doing a lot of soul searching,” Mum said, smiling. Soul searching? Really?

Mum patted my hand lovingly, and I gritted my teeth. Oh, yeah. He’d asked a question.
Oops
.

“It’s been a little hard on her, but she’s getting there.”

“Are you working?” Lee asked, as he twirled some pasta around his fork.

“I am now, but not for much longer.“ I shook my head. “The café you performed in, Sideways? Johnny’s getting in a new team. He’s taking a break for a while.”

I studied my hands, laced underneath the table within each other. Work was this bittersweet pill I took every day. I was close to him there. I could feel his presence, see his art, smell that invigorating scent that used to lace his body—

“Oh, that’s cool. Taking time off after something like what he’s been through …” Lee shocked me out of my reverie, and my focus snapped to him. “… I have no doubt he needs it.”

Are you going to offer him charity money, too?
I asked myself, then snapped it back. Shit, why was I being such a bitch? He was just trying to do something nice.

And there. That was the crux of it. There was no reason. Since Lachlan died, all I had become was a heap of lazy, unmotivated and depressed, with a dash of bitch thrown in on the side.

“So Kate is going to look for jobs elsewhere, aren’t you, petal?” Mum asked, tapping my hand again. I swore, she was going to run a path in my skin. “She always wanted to do event management.”

A light shone in Lee’s eyes. “That’s right. You hooked up Dave & The Glories playing with us in December.”

“She did.” Mum beamed.

“You know, we might have an opening coming up on the next leg of the tour.” Lee spoke the words slowly, a calculated gleam in his eye. “Don’t we, Benny?”

“We … do,” Benny confirmed. His lip twitched and I shook my head. Oh no.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

“You’d just have to do hotel bookings, make sure we’re where we need to be on time … Check we have what we need, when we need it … that kinda thing,” Lee said. “You’d be perfect for it.”

“Kate would be. She is the most organised little soul.” Mum smiled, her eyes wide, leaning so far forward over her plate with excitement so that her loose floral top drooped against the red sauce covering her pasta.

“It’d be all expenses paid, in the States.”

“America,” Mum repeated, eyes widening at me.

“And on top of that, we’d pay you an initial …” I waited for it. I raised my eyebrows. “Two grand a month, for the two-month leg.”

There it was. Surprise! The rock star couldn’t get his way with that initial charity proposal, so he was forcing it down my throat.

“That’s a lot of money, hon.” Mum patted my hand again, and this time I pulled it away. She bit her lip. “We’d miss you a lot—so much—but I think it’s important for you to take opportunities when they come to you.”

I pressed my eyes closed and ran my finger around the collar of my shirt. Even though it was only just coming on spring, it was suddenly hot in here. Too hot.

“Be … good.” Dad echoed Mum’s enthusiasm, and I gave him a weak smile. He’d already sent me off.

I looked back at Lee. “You don’t have to give me an answer now. But I’d really like to have you with us.” His eyes flashed with sincerity.

“And we could use a new member on the team,” Benny said. “Someone with a feminine touch would be well appreciated, now Stacey’s staying here. Keep Lottie company.”

“Lottie?” I furrowed my brows.

“Our stylist.” Lee flicked his hand, as if the question wasn’t important. “Anyway, we fly out on Tuesday. Let us know if you want to go and we’ll talk to the record company about trying to employ you through their Aussie branch, so you don’t need to worry about a working visa and can hopefully swing it on just a visitor’s pass.”

“Great. Kate will be in touch. Now, tell me more about yourself, Benny. Do you have a girlfriend?” Mum speared a piece of potato and popped it into her mouth.

Conversation = closed.

They didn’t need me here for the discussion. That was more than fine with me. For the last six months, I hadn’t really wanted to be here, anyway.

I mentally checked out for the rest of dinner. It was getting easier and easier to do—closing myself off to the rest of the world, putting on a smile-and-nod show and counting down the minutes, the hours until I could be alone with my memories.

Benny and Lee left straight after dinner, Lee handing both Mum and me cards with his contact details on them. I snatched Mum’s away and stashed it in my room, deep in my dresser. Left in her possession, my bags could be packed by sunrise.

When the final clang of dishes stopped downstairs and the lights in the house dimmed, I pulled on my runners, lacing them up tight. I tiptoed down the staircase, careful not to disturb Mum and Dad. It was hardly an illicit activity I was out to do, but it was one they hated all the same.

They didn’t like to see me running. It wasn’t good for me. I was too skinny, and running in the dark wasn’t safe.

They didn’t know it was the only way I could get to sleep. That until I’d exhausted myself—pushed my body to the very limits of its capacity to feel, to hurt, to embrace pain—I couldn’t get there.

I started at a slow jog, past the identical houses that lined our street, then headed toward the main road. My feet slapped hard against the pavement, the cushioning in my shoes not enough to stop the jolt up my legs.

Pound, pound, pound.

Lachlan. His face, his smile, his laugh.

Pound-pound-pound
.

Making coffee, skinny-dipping, watching movies on the couch.

Poundpoundpound.

His lips, pressed to mine, his hands running over me, in the car, careening down the freeway.

POUND.

I doubled over, gulping in shallow breaths of air that were too thick to penetrate my lungs. The ache in my chest stabbed at me as if I’d been knifed, but the stitch was nothing to the ache in my heart.

When I got home, I collapsed in bed, covered in sweat despite the early spring temperature. My hair was plastered to my forehead, my heart thudding at top speed.

And still, I dreamed of Lachlan. It seemed nothing would make that stop.

That wasn’t the worst part, though.

The worst part was waking up.

 

 

“So, let me get this straight. The lead singer of the Grammy-award winning
Coal
asked you to go on tour with them, and pay you a stupid amount of money to do so, and you said no. Capiche?” Stacey threw a tennis ball at the ceiling and then caught it with a
snap
against her chest.

“Something like that,” I mumbled, slurping the dregs of my milkshake and then sliding it across the red Formica tabletop. I looked around, taking in the 50s-style diner set-up, the black and white tiles … the coffee machine …

Lachlan, grinding the beans. The smell of coffee as he ran it through the machine. His chocolate-brown eyes, flicking up to me as I spoke.

Me.

Him
seeing
me.

Him
touching
me.

“Kate.”

I blinked, and I was back where I was two seconds ago, only it was Stacey’s hand around my wrist. And Lachlan wasn’t there.

Lachlan was never there, despite how many times I was convinced I’d seen him. He’d left me. For good.

“Sorry.” I pulled my wrist back into my lap where it busied itself with my other hand, twisting and scratching and pulling. I had all this energy, all the time now—and nowhere to expel it. Lesley, my counsellor, said it was because I was feeling so much emotion but I wasn’t getting it out, so it expelled itself in a physical manifestation. Mum just thought I had a massive case of the fidgets.

“Don’t apologise, sweetie.” Stacey gave my arm a gentle rub and then pulled back, perhaps thinking the better of it. “It’s allowed to still hurt, you know?”

Tears welled in my eyes for the zillionth time in the last six months and I blinked them back. It was stupid how often I cried now. Anything could set me off, from a trip down to Sydney, to my best friend caring.

“Anyway, so no, I’m not going on tour,” I said, shrugging the emotional stuff off. Sometimes, it was easier that way.

“Why?”

“Heaps of reasons. He’s doing it out of charity. I’ll be away from my family. And I need to stay here, for Johnny.” I let my eyes roam to the counter where Johnny was just finishing up the milk on a cappuccino. He saw me looking and smiled. I grinned back at him. Both of our eyes were empty, but we got each other. And it was nice. It was nice having someone who understood.

“Charity? He’s paying you to perform a job. And pretty crap money. Two grand? That’s five hundred a week. After tax, and considering you’ll be on call seven days, that’s nothing,” Stacey scoffed, leaning back in her seat, conveniently leaving the ‘all expenses paid’ part out of the equation. “And yes, you’ll be away from your family—for the short length of
two months.

“A lot can happen in two months.”

“It can, Kate. But what has happened in the last two? I mean, aside from me coming back from touring with the band to find you’ve lost about half your body weight and now look like a microphone stand.” She shook her head. “But seriously, how did you keep your boobs? I exercise, and I exercise, and they’re the first things to go.” She looked miserably at her chest, and pushed up her more than ample breasts. An elderly gentleman at the table next to us widened his eyes to the point where I worried they may fall out of his head. I smiled.

“Okay, so I get that it’s not that long a time, and Mum can probably handle anything family, but what about Johnny?” Stacey’s eyes scanned the room and I saw the moment they locked on Johnny. I saw because they got this look of depth, of sadness, of regret. Had my best friend always been so empathetic when it came to death? “He needs me.”

“Kate, I have no doubt he does.” She leaned forward and rested a hand on my knee. Why was everyone so touchy-feely with me lately? Did I look that needy? “But the thing is, he’s stepping back from the café to be with Lesley. You told me so yourself.”

I swallowed. It was true. My former boyfriend’s brother was dating my former genetics counsellor, now turned regular counsellor. They were in love, and there were even talks of them going on a yoga retreat. It was twisted, to say the least. And not just in the downward-dog department.

“So … you think I should just … go?”

“I think the last thing Johnny wants is you sharing a bed with him and sexy counsellor as he tries to find her Zen-spot.” Stacey raised her eyebrows. “Besides, you’ll have a good time. I just got back, and I had a ball.”

“With your
boyfriend
.” I pursed my lips.

“In another
country
,” she corrected me, and I smiled. She did have a point. “Look, if you won’t do it for the fact that it’s advancing your career, paying decent money and giving you an opportunity to see the world—dear God, what am I saying? Why do I even need a further argument?” She rested back in her seat and I smiled. You couldn’t help it when you were around her. It was contagious. “If you won’t do it for all those amazing, stellar, super fabulous reasons, do it for Lee.”

I pulled my neck back. “Lee?”

“Lee-
freaking
-Collins.” Stacey smiled, then shuffled her chair closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “You know, super-hot rock god, who pretty much asked you out back at the memorial for Lachlan?”

Images of Lee swelled to the forefront of my mind, his eyes—those striking, blue eyes that held me in one place. It still seemed weird to think that he had more or less asked me on a date, and I hated that a little, tiny something stirred inside me when I thought of that. Because nothing should. Because Lachlan was the one guy who was perfect for me, who understood me—who
got
me.

I
love
Lachlan.

“That was a pity ask.” I shook my head, placing my hands around the bottom of my milkshake glass.

“That
was
a legitimate question—and this
is
a legitimate opportunity.” Stacey paused, then her hand reached for my wrist across the table. She squeezed it. “Kate, I know you’re still hurting.”

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