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Rachel shook her head. “I mean, what can we ... what canIdo to help you?”
Kyle’s chin lifted. “I make my own way. Always have. I—”
“They’re starting a band,” I said quickly. Since Rachel had the day off yesterday, she’d missed that. “Kyle plays the guitar like his father. Claire sings as well as you. And Barry’s son, Tommy, plays drums. They’re my new house band starting this Tuesday.”
Rachel absorbed that news, reacting less surprised that I’d imagined she would. “Claire sings better than me.”
Claire’s eyes widened.
I lifted my hands, palms up. “I wasn’t going to go there.”
“She does.” Rachel sighed. “Plays the guitar as well, and the piano beyond anything I ever did.”
Claire frowned, seeming confused by her mom’s praise. “You never seemed to notice or approve of anything I did musically.”
Rachel gave her daughter a sad smile. “I noticed, and I approved. I’m so proud of you, Claire. I just wanted an easier path for you than I had. I know how hard the music business is, how destructive it can be on relationships. I wanted you to have a surer route to success.”
“You wanted to boss her into living her life the way you thought she should.” I tapped a finger to my lips, familiar with Bossy Rachel. “Hmm, why does that sound so familiar?”
Rachel folded her arms over her chest. “Because I did that with you.”
“You did it to all of us.” I shook my head. “Don’t get defensive. I’m older and wiser now; I know that’s the way you show love.”
“I drove a wedge between us.” Rachel sighed and dropped her arms. “I’m sorry.”
“I had my part in that.” My brows drew together. As usual, she was taking way too much blame. “I wasn’t supportive of your marriage.”
“I should’ve tried harder to convince you that what Daniel and I had was real.”
“We lost time,” I said to summarize and drew my sister to my side. “We’re not looking back. Remember? We’re moving forward.”
“Right.” Rachel nodded once, released me, and looked at Kyle. I think she realized already, like the rest of us did, that he was the leader. He had a presence, and circumstances had made him wise beyond his years. “So, what do you need for the band?”
Claire sighed. “Just about everything.”
“I have an acoustic I never play,” Rachel said.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Walsh.” Kyle shook his head. “I have my dad’s.”
“Rachel. Call me Rachel. Your dad and I—Addy, Andy, Barry—we were best friends. Each other’s safe place during some really rough times. You have to call me Rachel.”
“Okay.” He lifted his chin. “Rachel.”
I released my sister. “So, you need equipment, Kyle. Right?”
“We do,” he said. “I need an electric guitar. Tommy has a kit and some amps. But we could use keyboards and a bass guitar, minimum.”
“I have just what you need. Probably more.” I gestured. It was time to show everyone my collection. Let it go so it could maybe become a part of this new band’s future. “Come with me.”
Returning down the hall, I used the key that was hanging around my neck to open a door, then beckoned to Kyle and Claire. “Have a look.”
Kyle paused after stepping inside. “Whoa.”
The room was full of musical equipment. There were portable amps by the wall, plus a couple of instruments in cases. Hanging on pegs as if they were works of art were a Rolando performance keyboard, a red-and-black Fender bass guitar, and an Ebony ESP in a vintage sunburst finish.
“You too, Rach,” I called out.
My sister stepped inside the room, then stared at me, shocked. “Holy shit! You have all our instruments. Where did you get them?”
