The words are delivered as if I’m the family joke. My skin prickles with anger. My brothers are trusted to take care of themselves. Why does he never trust me? I lift my chin, hiding the hurt. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dad.”
I shove my glass at him. He takes it, his expression one of surprise as I stride off.
MAC
The hurt still smarts weeks later, but I have to push it aside. On top of our current hectic schedule, we’ve been in final preparations for an awards ceremony. Jamieson has been invited to play. We accepted, but of course the path to true success never runs smoothly. Life always manages to plant a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in your path just to piss you off and make everything difficult.
In this instance, my hurdle is Frog.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I say into the phone. Panic tinges the edges of my voice.
“I’m not,” my doped-up sounding bassist replies.
I’m at Evie’s house for a barbeque. It’s supposed to be a relaxed affair with the band and my family. A celebration of Jared and Evie finally finishing up renovations on their money pit. The pool has been installed. The gardens are done. Life is supposed to be good. And Frog and Cooper are supposed to be here. But they aren’t. Frog has just finished informing me he’s managed to break his arm and is now at the hospital with Cooper.
“Are you okay?”
“I am so fiiiiiiiiiine,” he slurs.
“And your arm?”
“My arm is so fiiiiiiiiiine.”
My lips pinch. Frog is currently high on heavy pain medication and now we’re short a bassist. The awards are tonight. “How could you do this?”
“Don’t be mean, Macky Wacky,” he says, sounding hurt.
“I’m not being mean,” I hiss into the phone as my mind runs at a million miles an hour. The exposure for Jamieson tonight is huge. It’s going to be televised to millions of people. We can’t back out, which means we need a replacement bassist. We need—
“Give me that,” Jake says, cutting off my scrambling thoughts. He snatches my phone and takes control of the call, leaving me to pace the carpeted floor of Evie’s bedroom.
It’s a beautiful room decorated in Hampton’s style with lots of white. It’s my favourite space in their entire house, but it fails to soothe me right now, especially when my eyes fall on Evie. She’s just emerged from the ensuite bathroom. Her face is green and her long, voluminous locks hang lank around her face. She looks like a bedraggled kitten emerging indoors after being caught in a thunderstorm.
I pause my pacing and point at her. “No. Just … no.”
“I’m sorry.” Her voice is a rasp.
“Oh my god, why does everyone have to be an asshole today?” I cry. “I don’t have time for this.”
Evie lips press flat as if she’s trying to hide a smile. I’m gobsmacked at her nerve. My brilliant bassist is in the hospital with a broken arm, and my lead singer has a voice like sandpaper. How can she find this amusing? My temper steps up a notch. “This is funny to you?”
“No!” Her smile blooms, and she places a palm against her belly. “I think … I’m pregnant.”
I stop breathing. My feet freeze to the floor, and my heart begins thumping a wild, jagged beat. This is what I wanted. What I’ve been hoping for. So why does it hurt?
Jake ends the call with Frog and hangs up my phone. His body is stiff as he carefully sets it on the bedside table. Does it feel like this for him too? This stabbing pain of loss?
“You …” I try to form words. To say something. Anything.
Evie’s lips curve. “Aunty Mac.”
I force my legs to move. One step in front of the other, they walk me toward my best friend. My arms wrap around her, and I pull her in for a hug. “Congratulations, Sandwich. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m happy too.” She squeezes me tightly in return, whispering, “But I’m scared.”
Her words send a pang directly to my heart. I’d been scared once too. “Don’t be scared. You’ve got this, okay? And you’ve got us.”
“Good, because I can’t do this without you.”
My phone rings again. I squeeze her back and step away.
“It’s the venue,” Henry says, handing me the phone as he steps in to give Evie a hug.
“Excuse me,” I mutter and leave the room, jogging down the stairs with the ringing phone. Jared is walking out of the kitchen as I reach the bottom step. My brother is going to be a daddy. I want to be happy for him. But not right now. Jared needs to get away from me before I fall apart.
“Mac, can you—”
“Not now,” I snap as I charge toward the downstairs bathroom.
I press the red button on my phone, ending the call without answering it as I slam the door behind me. Setting the device on the vanity counter, I stare at myself in the mirror and touch a hand to my cheek. My makeup is immaculate and my straightened hair hangs in a perfect sheet down my back. The surface shows no scars, but the hurt is bubbling up inside like a throbbing volcano. I feel it rising, hot and thick. I keep swallowing it down but it won’t be stopped.
The door opens swiftly.
I spin around.
Jake stands there, jaw trembling, silent. He knows the scars are there. He sees the pain. He feels it too.
My eyes fill as he steps inside the room and shuts the door behind him. The next minute I’m folded in his arms and the last of my control, having held strong for too many years, finally snaps. A sob rips from my chest. The broken sound echoes through the small space. My entire body trembles and his arms lock tighter, holding me against his chest as we sink to the floor.
“Jake,” I sob.
JAKE
A sick feeling lodges in my gut when Evie gives the news. Our friend has something we both lost and the pain of it is raw. A wave of it crosses Mac’s face as she stands frozen to the ground. It’s overwhelming and unexpected, and she can’t hide it.
Oh, baby.
My heart breaks when she rushes from the room. I follow behind, knowing I can congratulate my friend later. Right now, it’s Mac who has my attention. Mac who needs me.
“I’m here. It’s okay,” I whisper, my arms holding her close inside the quiet of the bathroom. My hands rub up and down her back as we sit in a huddle on the floor.
“It’s not,” she sobs, her fingers digging into my skin.
“It is okay. It’s okay to be upset.”
“It’s not okay to be upset. My best friend is up there, and I should be up there with her, celebrating, but I’m down here crying like a stupid girl.”
“I hate to break it to you, but you are a girl.”
A laugh escapes through the tears, and Mac pulls back a little, wiping at her face. It turns out my girl is not a pretty crier. Her eyes are swollen and red, and a river of mascara tracks down her cheeks, but there’s honest emotion on her face and it’s beautiful. Even like this, my heart bleeds for her and swells with love, all at once. Her strength floors me, but her vulnerability is something I would kill to protect.
“Lucky for you, then. If I was a guy you wouldn’t be able to fuck me, would you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I think if you were a guy, I’d turn for you.”
Laughter bubbles from Mac’s throat. “Stop trying to make me feel better.”