“It was nice talking to someone who seemed so genuinely interested. Most of the time when people ask me about the business, they’re either being polite or they have an angle.”
“Oh Linc’s certainly interested, much more than I’d prefer.”
“Because his dad was a musician?”
Jumping in her seat, Rae’s knife and fork clattered to the floor. “How do you know that?”
Oh shit. Once again, I’d forgotten the information that had been given to me through Linc. In this case, I was going to use that fact to my advantage. After all, Rae knew Linc and I had had some alone time the previous night. “Linc told me.”
“Oh,” she murmured. With a rueful smile, she added, “It’s at this moment that I wish Kennedy and Ellie had thought of mimosas.”
“I’m sorry. We can change the subject if you’d like.”
Rae gave an emphatic shake of her head. “No, it’s okay. I mean, it’s not like Linc’s father was something truly shameful like a serial killer—although to me, being a dead-beat dad ranks pretty high up there with people who are shameful.”
“Linc said he hasn’t seen his dad since he was a baby.”
“That’s right. Although Ryan pretty much bailed on our relationship when I got pregnant, I held out hope that he would at least step up and be a father to Linc. I should have realized he was too self-absorbed and selfish to be a parent.”
“I know Linc hasn’t ever talked to his father, but what about you? Do you talk to Ryan?”
Rae’s lip curled in disgust. “He’s never even bothered to pick up the phone. His parents tried to get him to call a few times, showed him pictures I gave them of Linc, but he still never called. They moved to Tennessee a few years ago, and they haven’t seen Linc since.”
Damn. Just when I thought the situation couldn’t be worse, it was. Rae had really gone through some shit with Ryan and his family. “Sounds like he comes from a pretty shitty family.”
“They’re good people, really, just enablers. They keep thinking he’s going to make it big on the music scene and pay them back all the money they’ve loaned him over the years.”
“I take it Ryan isn’t that successful?”
“He’s a wannabe. From some of my friends who have been to see him, he mainly plays in dives in and around Nashville.” She ran her finger over a crease in the tablecloth. “I’ve spent most of Linc’s life fearing that some of Ryan’s DNA would somehow manage to outweigh how I raised him. I’ve tried to head any of that off by keeping him away from music.”
Fucking hell. It was one thing to hear Linc’s side of the story on why his mother didn’t want him to have a guitar; it was quite another to hear Rae’s side. Maybe it was the palpable fear in her voice when she spoke that drove home the seriousness of the situation. Clearing my throat, I asked, “What do you mean you’ve kept him away from music?”
“Well, for starters, I put Linc in soccer and tee-ball when he could barely walk because I wanted to foster a love of sports in him.”
Although I already knew the answer to the question, I still asked, “And it worked?”
“For a while. I even coached his soccer team—it’s the reason I gave up arena football. Our schedules were overlapping.” She shook her head. “But then he came home one day in second grade with one of those annoying as hell recorders. I almost lost my shit.”
Trying to ease some of the tension in the air, I laughed. “Yeah, Eli and I tortured our parents with those back in the day.”
“It wasn’t just the irritating noise that got to me, it was that he wanted to play an instrument so much. All of a sudden this intense love for music had blossomed within him. All he could talk about was notes and beats.”
“I’m going to take a wild guess and say Linc’s love of music didn’t die out after his class moved on from the recorder.”
“No, it didn’t. In fact, it got worse. He became hell-bent on learning the guitar. He begged me for one last Christmas.”
“But you said no.”
She nodded. “Well, I said Santa said he wasn’t old enough. Then he started pestering me to do chores around the house and the shop to earn the money to buy it himself, but I just can’t let him have a guitar.”
Going out on a limb, I asked, “Would it really be so bad to give the kid a guitar?”
Rae narrowed her eyes at me. “To me, yes. It’s a crapshoot when it comes to genetics. Although he hasn’t exhibited much of Ryan’s tendencies so far, I’m determined not to let a guitar be the gateway drug to losing him.”
Well, fuck me. Rae was in full mama bear mode about this. There was no way in hell I could possibly win this argument. “So you’ve basically forbidden music?”
With a groan, she shook her head. “God, it sounds horrible when you say it like that. It makes me feel like the preacher in Footloose.”
I chuckled. “I’d hardly say you were that extreme.” Leaning forward, I added, “You do let him listen to music, don’t you?”
She huffed out an indignant breath. “Of course I do. I even let him get Guitar Hero for Christmas two years ago.”
“Aren’t you Saint Rae?” I replied teasingly.
“For me, that was huge.”
“I get that, but maybe you could consider it as baby steps working up to getting Linc a real guitar.”
“It might’ve been a consolation prize, but it’s not a starting point.”
“Playing devil’s advocate here, it can be very beneficial for kids to be involved with music. It’s been proven to help their focus in school and improve grades.”
“While all that might be true, I just can’t take the chance.” At what must’ve been my skeptical look, she asked, “Don’t you see? In my life, everything negative has come from involvement with a musician. My mother ran off with one, and I got knocked up and abandoned by one.” Tears pooled in her eyes. In an agonized voice, she said, “I don’t want to lose my son.”
There was nothing that could have prepared me for Rae losing her shit in front of me. Gone was the tough-as-nails sassy-pants. The woman before me was stripped to the bone and as vulnerable as I could ever imagine. It was both oddly beautiful and frightening.
As for me, I froze—like, I became a perfectly sculptured statue. I wasn’t one of those men who couldn’t handle female emotions. I was actually known among our backup singers and female road crew for being a shoulder to cry on. The fact that I was a good listener made me very accustomed to seeing tears.
It was the fact that they were Rae’s tears that floored me. Rae was one of those women who I imagined was made of steel. She would never be caught blubbering into her popcorn during a sad movie. She was the kind of woman who made fun of the women who did that.
More than anything in that moment, Rae needed comforting. While she would never verbally ask, I could read it in her eyes. I slid my chair around the table to where it bumped against her. Since I wasn’t sure how she would feel about me putting my arms around her, I reached out for her hand instead. “There is no way in hell you’re going to lose Linc.”
Jacob's Ladder: Gabe (Jacob's Ladder #1)
Katie Ashley's books
- Don't Hate the Player...Hate the Game
- Music of the Heart (Runaway Train #1)
- Music of the Soul (Runaway Train #2.5)
- Nets and Lies
- Search Me
- Strings of the Heart (Runaway Train #3)
- The Pairing (The Proposition #3)
- The Party (The Proposition 0.5)
- The Proposal (The Proposition #2)
- The Proposition (The Proposition #1)
- Beat of the Heart
- Melody of the Heart (Runaway Train, #4)