“God,you really don’t want me looking at these, huh?” I teased, grabbing another andturning it over. Metallica’s…And Justice For All. “God, I haven’tlistened to this in forever.”
“Ijust don’t want Greyson thinking you don’t have an interest in him.” She took therecord from me and held onto it. Maybe thinking that if she didn’t put it back,I wouldn’t grab another.
“MaybeI have multiple interests,” I countered, teasing.
Clutchingthe album to her chest, she pinched her lips and lowered her gaze to the beigecarpet. “I don’t even know what that means.”
“Whatit means, Tabby, is that maybe I want to get to know Greysonandyou.”
“Youhave absolutely no reason to get to know me outside of the bare minimum,” shestated wryly, sliding the record back onto its shelf. “You should be morefocused on getting to know your son.”
Leaningmy hip against the shelves, I folded my arms and shook my head. “You know,here’s the thing; I refuse to believe you’re as reserved as you’re makingyourself out to be. I’ve seen enough to know that at the very least, you and Icould be friends, so why you’re resisting that so much, I have no idea. Butsomething you need to know about me is, I don’t give up easily.” And as thoughI were setting out to challenge her and her protests against being my friend—orotherwise—I grabbed another record. The first album my hand landed on andpulled it out.
Thecover pushed me to cock my head, to draw my brows together and narrow my eyes.Maskthe Raven, the first album of the first band I was ever in, Saint Savage. Wewere a metal band comprised mostly of a few guys from Scranton. A friend ofmine had hooked me up, and we’d gone on to do some great things beforesplitting up and moving on. It was the band I was in when I met Greyson’s mother,and before Tabby could snatch the record from my hands, I held it up out of herreach.
“Youwere a fan?” I asked the question as another piece of information registered.We’d only sold the vinyl records at shows. Realization lit like a bulb as I eyedher suspiciously. “Wereyouat that show?”
Sheknew the one. That was made apparent by the sudden streak of red blossomingagainst her cheeks as she jumped, attempting to swipe the record from my hand. Thefragments of information clicked into place, and although some parts were stillhazy, some things were starting to make a little more sense.
“Takeit easy, Thumbelina,” I said gently, handing the album to her. “So, can I takea guess at what happened?”
“Oh,well, it’s not like I can stop you anyway, so go right ahead,” Tabby mumbled,putting the album back. She stared at the shelf, unable to look at me, but why?Embarrassment? Shame?
“Okay.”I bobbed my head once, and turned to pace the living room floor. “So, you andyour sister were both big fans of music. Maybe it was something you bonded overand you’d go to shows together.Youwent to enjoy the music—hell, maybeyou both did, but your sister preferred the other perks of being a groupie. Like,hooking up with band members.” I glanced over my shoulder to find she’d turnedto watch my back. “Stop me if I’m wrong.”
Witha quick shake of her head, she croaked, “Keep going.”
Hmmm…“Everything was fun, everything was great. Until one day, you go to this metal concert.You like the opening act and you buy their album. They’re super approachable,because they’re small and just the opener, but you don’t meet them. Your sisterdoes. She gets pregnant, and all of a sudden, everything that you thought wasfun isn’t anymore. You don’t want to be her, so you force yourself to grow up,because—”
“Areyou coming up here or what?” Greyson called from upstairs, interrupting myspiel.
BeforeI responded, I turned from my pacing and eyed Tabby. I took in the furrowedcreases between her brows, the rapid movement of her throat as she swallowed,and the strength of her arms as they tightened around her middle.
Bingo.
MaybeI wasn’t spot on. Maybe I had missed something. But for what it was worth, I’dfigured her out.
“Yeah,”I called back, heading toward the stairs as I pointed a finger at her. “Can wecontinue this later?” I gave her a few seconds to respond. I didn’t think she’daccept my request, but then she faintly nodded.
Ismiled reassuringly at her, even though she didn’t look much like smilingherself. Because the thing was, despite how much her body might’ve wanted meand mine her, I really did want to genuinely know her. We were going to knoweach other for a long time, as long as Greyson wanted me in his life, and atthe very least, we should get along.
Understandingher was the first step in the right direction, as far as I was concerned, and Ihoped she’d grant me the privilege.
13
tabby
As Sebastian ranup the stairs to hang outwith Greyson, I exhaled with a heaving gust. My hands scrubbed over my face asI grappled for the strength to continue the conversation.
Howthe hell had he figured all that shit out? That’s the part I didn’t quiteunderstand. Had he known all along, or was that stupid album really that muchof a giveaway? Either way, it freaked me out to know he now knew at least themajority of the situation. And he wanted to know the rest. It didn’t actually hurtto tell him, not when he already knew so much, but it would require a dose ofcourage I didn’t know I had in me.
“Ineed a drink,” I muttered to myself as I hurried into the kitchen to scour mymeager collection of wine.
Irarely drank. Too much of my life had required me to keep a level head. But,every now and then, I appreciated a glass of something. Now was one of those timesand I grabbed for a bottle of wine my ex-future mother-in-law had gifted melast Christmas.
Howstrange it is, to find ourselves suddenly clouded by memories we hadn’t given amoment’s thought in months. I remembered her then, my ex-fiancé’s mother, andthe uncertainty in her eyes as I unwrapped the bottle. She knew I didn’t drinkmuch, but she had seen the bottle at her local liquor store and it reminded herof me. “The design looks like the windows at your office,” she’d said with areluctant smile. I told her I loved the thought and that the bottle wasgorgeous, because it was.
Imiss her.
