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And now, both of them were wearing their boots from the last tour. Beaten up and worn down from hours on stage. He craved Helen because she was authentic and here he was, a fraud.
“You…you really like her?” Alex asked quietly. All the teasing was gone from his voice and Micah turned to look at him, waiting for the punch line. But Alex was serious and subdued. He wore a red flannel shirt and he looked so much like their mother it kind of hurt.
“Yeah. I really like her.”
“It’s not just like that obsessive thing you were doing after you read her article?” he asked. “It’s just a question, don’t bite my head off. Because you get like this sometimes.”
“Like what?”
“Obsessed.”
“You know every time I get obsessed it works out pretty well for you.”
They were sitting in this rehearsal space because when he was sixteen he’d gotten obsessed with playing the guitar and Alex, always following in his footsteps, started playing too.
And then he got obsessed with writing songs.
And that led to the open mic nights, just the two of them, playing his original songs. And then he’d wanted a band, and then he wanted a better band and here they were.
“Do you honestly think I don’t know that?” Alex asked without taking any offense. “So where is she?”
“You were right. I complicate things. I made it harder than it needed to be.” Micah shrugged, like it was no big deal, like his heart hadn’t been broken in that cabin. “She’s not for me.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
Micah looked at his brother, surprised by the show of empathy.
“What?” he asked defensively. “I can be a nice guy.”
“You just choose not to most of the time?” Micah asked with a smile.
“I don’t know, you’re out there being nice enough for the two of us.”
“That’s why you didn’t like Danny?” Micah asked. “He threw off the nice guy ratio?”
“That guy was beyond nice. You know the road would have chewed him up and spit him out.”
Jo came in at that moment, with two gigantic men absolutely made of muscle walking in behind her. “Who are those guys?” Alex asked.
“No idea.”
But Jo saw them sitting on the edge of the stage and walked over, the mountain men following.
“I got a bad feeling about this,” Alex said.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Jo,” Alex started. “I don’t—”
She held up a hand. “Stop talking,” she said. “This is coming from the label so there’s no room to bullshit. These are Ivan and Dimitri Shapapalov and they are your new bodyguards. You don’t go anywhere without them. That includes dive bars, strip clubs—”
“Who is going to strip clubs?” Micah asked.
“Me,” Alex whispered.
“No two-day field trips.” Jo eyed Micah. “This brother bullshit between you is going to mess up this band and this tour. I’m not having it.”
Well. Babysitter/bodyguards. It’s come to this. And he wasn’t even mad about it.
“I agree with you,” Micah said, and his brother’s head whipped around to stare at him. “We’re grown-ass men,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s act like it.”
Alex wanted to fight, he could see it on the guy’s face. That toddler tantrum building up, but to Micah’s surprise he took a deep breath and nodded.
Just then Miguel, their bass player came in, devil’s horns flying.
“Hey fuckers! Thought you could do this shit without me?” he shouted. He looked thin and pale, his months in the hospital having taken their tool. But he was on his feet with all the energy of the scrawny, mouthy nineteen-year-old kid who’d answered Micah’s want ad for a bass player seven years ago and then brought a groove to his music he’d never even imagined.
“Some things never change, huh?” Alex said with a grin and ran off to clasp hands with Miguel.
No. Some things never changed.
But some things had to.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sunday night after the big family dinner, Helen was in bed, a rare third glass of wine on the bedside table next to her. Alice had made chicken noodle soup like they were all in need of some comfort, but Helen had been too keyed up to even eat.
Bea caught on to her sort of mid-level hyperness and got revved up, which at least was a distraction. She’d taken all the kids, even the teenagers, outside into the early summer twilight and played a rather epic game of hide and seek.
Now, close to midnight, her heart was still too big in her chest. Every beat felt thick and full and she wanted…God. She wanted everything. She wanted change all at once. She wanted the very next version of herself right now.
She wanted Micah.
Which, she fully understood, was ridiculous.
She’d walked out of that cottage without saying a word. What right did she have to want more? And what more could there even be between them?
Helen had finalized all the posters and social media graphics for the picnic. She’d compiled her final list of things that Micah had agreed to and drafted a schedule with pick-up and drop-off times.
