For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) (23 page)

"I can’t wait to see you," she tells me. I believe her.

"Talk to you soon, Little D."

We hang up, and I just sit there for a few more minutes as the sun sets and the dogs bark at the noises that make up a ranch. It’s strange how I’ve gotten used to this place. The quiet, the dust, the animals. I spent my whole life in a city, surrounded by cars, people, pavement. In a million years, I never would have imagined I’d grow to like the solitude of the rural outdoors. But I find that I do. It’s exhilarating to go into Dallas—the traffic jams, the stores, the lights, and the feeling of anonymity. But when I leave it, I increasingly find myself relaxing in a way I never have. It’s like I’m able to take slightly deeper breaths, see a little more clearly, hear a little more precisely. I can only hope that the same sense of calm and clarity will stay with me when I see Joss for the first time in nearly eight months.

Mike comes sauntering out of the bunkhouse while I sit there. "What are you doin’?" he asks when he reaches me.

I stand up and stretch. "Just finished up with the new fences. And I got a phone call from Portland." I pause, wondering how Mike will take this. He and Joss haven’t exactly been on good terms the last couple of years "It was Mel. You knew she and Joss were back together, right? Tammy told me about it right after she got here."

"Yeah, Colin gave me the happy news," he snarls.

"Did you have a thing for Mel, or what?"

"No." He shakes his head vigorously. "What would make you think that?"

"I don’t know. You’re just so pissed at him all the time. It can’t all be on my behalf."

He rubs a hand over his scruff and looks up at the sky. "I hate him. I hate that he broke you and Tammy up. I know he didn’t do it to me, but I fucking can’t stop hating him."

I nod like I understand, but I really don’t. There’s something so personal about his reaction to it all. The thing about Mike is though, if he wants to let it out, he will. If he doesn’t, all the begging in the world won’t open him up.

"Yeah, I’m not sure if I can either."

"So what did Mel want?" he asks, bringing us back to the phone call.

"Prepare yourself," I warn.

He purses his lips and looks at me as if he’s poised on the cusp of erupting. I go on. "She and Joss are coming to town."

"Wait. Coming here? When? For what?"

"The when is soon. They’re going to email me the details. The what is to talk to me for some reason. Try to get me to forgive Joss, I guess." I kick at the dirt with the toe of my boot.

Mike’s expression tells me that he’s incredulous. "And will you?"

"I don’t know, man. I don’t know. I’m playing it by ear right now. We’ll see what I feel like when it actually happens. And it’s not the kind of thing you forgive exactly. It’s more like, I don’t know, can I stand to be around Joss again at some point or not, I think."

"Jesus. You’re a better man than I am if you’re even considering it," he growls. "He doesn’t deserve to be forgiven or tolerated or anything. He’s the worst kind of scum. A guy who would take another dude’s girl is fucking scum."

"As much as I want to believe that, I’m not sure if I can anymore, dude. The whole thing was complicated. He and Tammy fucked up, no doubt, but the reasons behind it are more than just ‘he’s an asshole’ or ‘she’s a cheater.’"

He snorts his derision. "There’s no reason in the world that would make sense to me, but it’s up to you. I guess there’s no way I won’t run into him while he’s here, huh?"

"Probably not, dude. Can you manage to be civil for Mel’s sake?"

"Can Mel be civil to me more like? She fucking hates me. Shoot the messenger and all that."

I shake my head. I can’t really blame Mel for hating Mike after he outed Tammy and Joss. It’s hard not to hate the guy who just told you that your sister and the guy you’re in love with both betrayed you. Mel’s the only other person in this equation who got as raw of a deal as I did.

"Mel’s pretty fantastic. I’ll bet she’s willing to cut you some slack if you’ll cut Joss some. Why don’t you give it a try, man? What good does it do any of us to hold on to the poison? We may never want to be around each other again, but we can at least let the worst of it go."

"All right, man. I’ll give it a shot, but I need a wingman. I’m calling Colin. If we’re all going to be here and try to do this, he needs to be here too."

"Agreed. Totally. Is he still in Hawaii?"

"Yeah, but he’s been talking about coming back. He learned how to surf and got into a bunch of native spiritual shit, but I guess it’s worn thin."

"I’m sure if it included ceremonial ganja he’s a true believer," I joke.

Mike shakes his head. "Someday the dude’s going to surprise all of us. Just wait and see."

"Well, I’ll be happy to see him. It’s been too long. Give him a call and tell him to get his ass down here."

"Will do."

I
T’S TEN
days later when Tammy arrives back at Mrs. Stallworth’s. She pulls up at about five p.m. I’ve gotten home early because I ran an errand for Ronny in town at the end of the afternoon. I’ve been sitting on the front porch swing drinking a lemonade Mrs. S. made for me and watching some kids across the street try to do tricks on their skateboards.

I watch silently as Tammy starts taking all of her crap out of the car after she parks. She’s got bags hanging from both shoulders, another bag in one hand, and a box in her other arm, and she’s trying to get the trunk closed while she holds a suitcase up with her knee. I chuckle while watching her. She’s always looked liked a damn model, my girl, but she’s not graceful or smooth about much of anything.

I set the lemonade down on the porch railing and saunter down the sidewalk. I open the little gate and then lean against the side of Tammy’s car while she struggles. "You need some help there?" I ask casually.

She shoots me a glare and doesn’t answer.

"Here." I step forward and reach for the suitcase balancing precariously against her leg.

She yelps and jerks back, the bags slide down her arms, she drops the one in her hand, the suitcase falls on her foot, and the trunk flies back up, bouncing a couple of times as it settles into the open position.

"Shit!" Tammy yells as she hops on one leg and shakes her other foot around.

I try not to laugh as I start grabbing the bags off of her arms. "Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry." A burst of laughter escapes. "Here. Just let me have this crap."

She gives up the bags and slams the trunk shut before bending down to rub at her toe. I gather up everything but her purse, which she picks up from the pavement.

"This all going to your room?" I ask.

"Yes, please," she says, avoiding my eyes.

I set off back to the house. Mrs. S. is standing in the open front door when I get up the porch stairs.

"Can I take these things upstairs for Tammy?" I ask her, trying to act like I take her rules seriously.

"Yes, go on," she huffs. "Get inside, girl," she crows at Tammy. "All the air conditioning’s getting out."

I get into Tammy’s room and set everything down on the bed, stopping after I unload it to roll my shoulders a couple of times. I wonder if she’s packed rocks in those bags. I can’t believe she thought she’d get them inside on her own.

As I turn to leave, I find myself face to face with Tammy. She’s standing in the doorway, a look of anguish on her beautiful face. It skitters away like a pattern in sand when wind hits it, but it’s not gone before I notice. I reach my hand out instinctively. The way she recoils stops my gesture instantly.

"Tam?" I ask. "Everything okay?"

She pastes on the mask she uses with reporters when she’s giving a publicity statement. "Yes, of course. Thanks very much for the help with the bags."

"Sure," I say, feeling instantly alone and empty because she’s shutting me out. "So are you ready for tonight?"

She swallows and moves into the room, shimmying past me so she can set her purse on the dresser along the wall next to the door. "Yeah, I think so. It’ll be really good to see Mel."

I nod, hands stuffed in my pockets, everything feeling stilted and awkward in a way it never has before with Tammy. "Well, let me know when they get here. I think I’ll go downstairs and practice for a bit."

Now I get the smile normally reserved for smarmy roadies and other bands’ agents. "Sounds good," she chirps.

I leave and head downstairs. Something inside me feels bad, unhealthy. I can feel her slipping away, and I don’t like it. The phrase "be careful what you wish for" comes to mind, and I wonder if Tammy away from me is really what I wanted after all.

I
T’S FORTY-FIVE
minutes later when I pause in beating the drums to take a drink of water and there’s commotion from upstairs. I hear Tammy’s exclamations followed by a similar voice and then a deep rumble that I know instantly is Joss. I take a quick breath and sit quietly for just a moment, trying to steel myself for what lies ahead. Finally, I stand, stiffen my spine, and walk upstairs to see the best friend I ever had and the man who tore my life to pieces.

I exit the basement and walk down the hall. I can see them before they see me. Tammy and Mel are facing my direction, the two of them smiling like the whole world is filled with sunshine. They look nothing alike, yet you can tell in a moment that they’re sisters, and the sight of the joy they feel when they’re with one another sends an arrow of deeply bittersweet emotion through my heart. It makes me so intensely sad that I hardly ever see that look on Tammy’s face anymore but also so profoundly happy to see it now. I can’t decide which way to feel first.

Joss stands, nodding seriously as Mrs. S. lectures him about her rules. I don’t have to see his face to know what expression he’s wearing—the focused, mature one I’ve never mastered.

As if she can feel me, Tammy stops talking to Mel and looks across the foyer at me. I see Joss’s posture clench up before he straightens and turns around slowly.

His face is hopeful, tentative, and determined all at once. I stand frozen and watch him for a moment, memories flashing through my mind—baseball games, bike races, sleepovers, secret midnight trips to smoke cigarettes, concerts, recording sessions, a bathroom in a convenience store where I feared my life might end. I recognize the essence of my entire life, right there in his eyes, and in that moment, I realize—when I cut him out, I cut out a piece of myself. I don’t know where we’ll end up, but I know it won’t be as strangers. It’s too late for that.

I step forward and extend my hand. "Joss. How you doing, man?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tammy bring her hands up to cover her mouth, but not before a small choking sob works its way out. Mel stands quietly and looks at the floor.

Joss puts his hand out and slowly takes mine in his grip. Then, before I can stop him, he’s pulled me into a half hug, clapping me on the back. I hear his warm voice vibrate in my ear. "I missed you, man. So fucking much."

I nod my head, too overcome with the myriad emotions to answer. He releases me and we stand and look at one another without speaking for a minute. Some way, I think to myself, we’re going to figure out how to get past this—for the decades of life, memories, and brotherhood. Walsh and Joss aren’t done yet. I feel it deep in my gut. We will get beyond this point. We have to.

"Well, get going then," Mrs. S. harps. "This poor child hasn’t eaten since two o’clock this afternoon." She reaches over and pats Mel on the cheek. Tammy rolls her eyes and I just stand open-mouthed in confusion. "You need to get her some food." Mrs. S. gives Joss a chest-jab just for good measure.

I know Joss doesn’t take too kindly to being told what to do, so I step in to diffuse the situation. "No need to get violent now, Mrs. S. We’ll take Joss and Mel to The Bronco and get dinner. You should go get started on your show. I heard that Olivia’s going to find out all about David’s murder on this episode," I tell her, referring to the nighttime soap,
Scandal
, that she lives for.

Mrs. Stallworth’s face lights up. "Oh," she cackles. "I’ve been waiting for this one." Then she scowls. "Don’t you dare bother me when you get home, boy. I’m going to watch this episode at least twice to make sure I get every detail."

"Yes, ma’am," I answer.

Joss is smirking at me, and Tammy has marched off in a huff somewhere down the hall.

Mrs. Stallworth turns to Mel, and her face softens. "If you need anything, dear, you just let me know. If that house he got for you isn’t nice enough, I’ve got a room right next to your sister’s. He’ll have to stay in the basement with the other one." She jabs a thumb in my direction. "But I have a lovely room all fresh and ready for
you
." She smiles—actually smiles—at Mel and then pinches her cheek before she shuffles off to the TV room at the back of the house.

Tammy reappears with her purse. She shakes her head. "Unbelievable. I could go without eating for a week and she wouldn’t give a damn, but she’s known you for five whole minutes and she’s already fussing over you."

Mel laughs and shrugs, blushing a bit.

"Mel just has that effect on people, Tam. You know that," Joss says as he throws his arm around Mel and kisses her forehead.