A Light in the Dark Read online

  “The thing is, not all guys are like your brothers. Or me. There are accidents—” He paused dramatically. “—and then there are accidents. If you go into a relationship swinging, someone is going to end up with a black eye. And it might be you.”

  “I don’t hit anyone but my brothers,” I muttered defensively, remembering a split second too late that the reason we were having this discussion was that I’d punched him. “And only because if I don’t, they’ll think I’m wimping out.”

  Tom was graciousness itself and didn’t point out my inaccuracy. “If you don’t, maybe they’ll step back and see that you’re not a kid anymore. Besides, from what I can tell, Jordan is the only one who still throws you around, isn’t he?”

  “They dog-piled me last Thanksgiving. All four of them.”

  “For no reason?”

  “For no reason whatsoever,” I replied in a mockingly defensive tone. “I even made them a batch of chocolate brownies just to show them how much I loved them.”

  “Right.” Tom guffawed knowingly. “With one of your dad’s ex-lax chocolate bars.”

  I snickered. “Yep.”

  “Look. I can’t speak for them, but I’m your friend. And, well, I love you.” He cleared his throat. “So I’m asking you to let me speak for me.” He paused, apparently waiting for permission to continue.

  “I’m listening.”

  “Tish, it makes me really uncomfortable to see them treat you like that. It feels… disrespectful. No, wrong. It feels wrong. But it also makes me uncomfortable to see you treat them that way. The whole hitting thing is ugly, whether you’re a guy or a girl. Whether you’re doing it in jest or not. Whether it hurts the other person or not. The rules should apply to everyone, in my opinion. It doesn’t make you seem tougher. It just doesn’t.” His voice was low, intense, and even though what he was saying poked jagged holes in my pride, I knew he was speaking from his heart. “In fact, it makes you look like you lack self-control, so you just start swinging instead.”

  As I listened to him speak, I thought about the way I treated people, about how physical I was with the guys in my life. And there were a lot of them. My four brothers, Tom and the other three in the band. Besides Ani, most of my friends were male, too, especially at school. I just seemed to have more in common with men. Tom was right. I threw a lot of “harmless” punches, backhanding arms and chests, pushing and pulling, like I was just one of the guys. Manhandling. But I wasn’t a man. I was a woman, as he’d pointed out. With boobs. And although my brothers got away with quite a bit of roughhousing with me, if any of the other guys in my circles treated me even half as roughly as I treated them, there’d be hell to pay.

  So how could I justify hitting them? Because I was smaller? That just made me a quintessential Napoleon. Little man syndrome.

  Except, I reiterated to myself, I wasn’t a little man. I was a little woman. And now that I thought about it, I kind of liked the idea of being treated less like a man and more like a woman.

  “You’re the only one who can put a stop to it, Tish. You just need to stand up to your brothers and say so. Your folks will back you up. I will, too. And honestly, I think they just do it because you expect it.” I could hear a tinge of frustration in his voice. “Like I said, I can’t speak for anyone else. But I don’t want you to hit me anymore, okay?”

  “I think it’s a habit,” I muttered, feeling completely deflated. “I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the time.”

  “I know. I know. But just like any habit, you can break it if you choose to.”

  I flopped back on my pillow and draped my arm over my eyes, shutting out the late afternoon sunlight streaming in my window. I didn’t really like myself at that moment. Or every other moment of this whole stupid day.

  “Tish? I can hear you beating yourself up.” How did he know me so well?

  “But I’m so good at it. Beating people up.”

  “Stop it.” His voice was firm, kind.

  “Sorry. You’re right. I guess I have my work cut out for me.” I rolled to my side, anxious to change the subject. “What should I do about Sebastian? And are you really serious about not playing with us after Taylors?”

  Tom released a short sound that might have been a laugh. “Sebastian Jeffries. Why do I already feel sorry for him? I wonder if we should have put some kind of disclaimer about you in writing, in the small print.”

  “Tom! I’m not that bad… am I?”

  “Text him. Call him, if you want, if it will set your mind at ease.” Tom paused just a fraction of a second. “Or leave him alone. Regardless of what you do, he’ll be back. He’s not going to walk out on his gear.”

  I wanted to believe Sebastian wouldn’t walk out on me, either, but that was making some pretty big assumptions about the guy.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  5:34 PM - JollyRockerTBird: It’s Tish. You okay?

  Sebastian didn’t respond. I waited a good twenty minutes or more before trying again. This time I wouldn’t ask for a response.

  5:51 PM - JollyRockerTBird: Your guitars are safe. Locked in the studio. I have your key. I thought it was important for him to know I still wanted him in the band, just in case he was worried about where I stood.

  Still no response from Sebastian.

  At 6:15 PM, I left a voice message. “Sebastian, I’m sorry if what you saw worried you. Thank you for stepping in. It was very chivalrous. Call me, okay?”

  That had been almost two hours ago, but I wasn’t going to harass him. I glanced down at my phone, just in case I’d missed a message from him during dinner, but there were no notifications. His silent treatment was beginning to feel a bit childish to me.

  Dinner had been tolerable, but only because Ani came back over at my invitation. Her parents had made plans since they’d thought she wouldn’t be home anyway. She kept things entertaining with talk of her post-graduation plans, and even though it was kind of a tender subject for me, I didn’t mind hearing about it because I could see she was really excited about her future with Paulo.

  “When’s that boy going to marry you?” Dad asked her, after she told us about her pending visit to Oregon.

  She smiled brightly, a twinkle in her eye that made me look a second time—the girl knew something she wasn’t telling me!—and said, “Paulo is a true gentleman, Charlie. He won’t ask me until he asks my father, and if he asks George Darling, I’m sure you’ll be one of the first to hear about it. Maybe even before I do.”

  When dinner was over, Ben and Dad cleared the table and straightened the living room while Marilyn got the tired kids bathed and ready for bed before the four of them headed out the door for home. After they were gone, Mom, Ani, and I worked together in the kitchen, washing dishes and putting food away. I set my phone on the island and withdrew a clean dishtowel from the pantry.

  Just as I picked up one of the large casserole dishes to dry it, the text tone sounded, a recording I’d made of Gina and Little Ben giggling together several weeks ago. It made me smile every time I heard it. I really did love those two. Especially when they were well-rested and being cute together. I keyed in my password.

  SebastianJack: Silenced my phone during practice and forgot to turn it back on. Sorry I missed you.

  Well. That sounded pretty casual. Like nothing out of the ordinary had occurred here a few hours ago. What the heck? I didn’t play games. I pushed the green “Send” button and brought the phone to my ear.

  “Sebastian here.”

  “Tish here,” I said, matching his laid-back tone, but with a slightly mocking bite. I groaned inwardly. Why did I always react so defensively to him? I made a huffing noise I hoped he’d think was a laugh. “Don’t you have me listed in your contacts yet? Dude. If you’re in my band, then I’m in your phone. That’s the way I roll.”

  There was a brief pause. The poor guy was probably trying to switch gears in order to keep up with me.

  “You’re in my phone, don’t worry. Just didn’t want
you thinking I was sitting around waiting for your call.” And now he was flirting with me? I was the one who couldn’t keep up with him!

  “Ohhh.” I drew the word out in a long, knowing sound. I did not want to even think about how his teasing made my heart kick it up a notch. “I see. Playing coy, are you?” I plugged my other ear to shut out the noise of dishes and silverware clinking in the background, and of Mom and Ani’s low conversation. I didn’t have to look at them; I could tell they were curious about the phone call. But because I knew they’d only get more irritating if I didn’t give them something, I mouthed, “Sebastian,” and strummed an air guitar to illustrate.

  “Did I interrupt your meal again?” Sebastian must have good hearing.

  “Nope. I’m on KP duty tonight. Ben and Marilyn were here for dinner, so there were lots around our table tonight. They just left with their very tired munchkins and Mom, Ani, and I are washing up.”

  “Hi, Sebastian!” Mom called out, giggling like a teenager with Ani. I covered the mouthpiece and glared wide-eyed at her. She snorted behind her hand and elbowed my friend. The moment I lifted my hand from the receiver, Ani followed suit.

  “Hi, Sebastian!” she called in her sing-song voice. I glared at her, because she knew all about what had happened today.

  “My mom. And Ani. You can ignore them.” That only served to make them laugh diabolically. Loudly. I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door that led to the studio, but I couldn’t help smiling when I saw Mom hurry over with a cup up to her ear right before I closed the door behind me. “And yes, you were the hot topic around the dinner table tonight.”

  The truth was that only Mom mentioned him, asking how practice went. I assured her the session went well, that Sebastian was a talented musician, but I didn’t expound further. Mom eyed me curiously. “I’m glad,” she finally responded. “I think I like that boy.” But he’d certainly been the hot topic in my mind.

  “I see. Maybe I should have stuck around to defend my reputation.”

  I leaned back against the closed door and frowned into the darkness of the mixing room. How could he sound so blasé after what had happened today? I didn’t like pretending things were not what they were. Faking it was a bad way to start any relationship, but I didn’t want him to feel like nothing was sacred around me, either. If he wanted to move past this morning and the episode with Jordan this afternoon, that was all fine and good, but I couldn’t do so without at least acknowledging it and putting it in its rightful place.

  “About that,” I said, keeping my voice quiet, just on the off-chance Mom actually did have her glass pressed to the door behind me. “Yeah, I wish you had stuck around, Sebastian. I’ve been worried about you, I’ll be honest. But it’s not a big deal, okay?” I rushed on before he could interject anything, not wanting him to defend himself prematurely and back himself into any corners. “I can only imagine how that must have looked to someone who doesn’t know us, and I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. You were—”

  “Hey, Tish.” He cut me off and I went silent at the sound of my name. I really liked hearing him say my name. Focus, girl. “I’m the one who should be apologizing, not you. I jumped in prematurely and—”

  “Hey, yourself,” I interrupted him in turn, already knowing where he was going with this. “Enough, okay? You were coming to my defense, right?” I gathered my courage and released the next words out in a rush, hoping he’d understand. “Over Tom at the coffee shop, as well as this afternoon with Jordan. And that says something pretty amazing about you. At least it does to me. So thank you.”

  After a moment, he simply said, “You’re welcome.” Then the phone went silent. Did he hang up? But—but….

  “Sebastian? You still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Phew! I thought you’d hung up on me.” I moved to the sofa and perched on the arm of it, peering through the window into the room where the three of us had found middle ground together this afternoon. On the wall hung an old Silver Bullet Budweiser neon sign that I had on a timer, set to come on at seven PM every night, and in its dim glow, I could see Alejandro propped up in a guitar stand, patiently awaiting Sebastian’s return.

  “So, does this mean I’m still in?” His words were weighted with hesitation and I hurried to reassure him.

  “Yes! Oh goodness, please don’t tell me you’re considering bailing on me. Tom leaves next month, Sebastian. Yes, you’re still in if you want the job.”

  “I want the job.”

  “Thank God!” I exclaimed. “Besides, my mom says she thinks she likes you and I wouldn’t want to have to explain your absence to her.” I gulped loudly, trying to take back the words that kept tumbling out, but instead, I let loose another stream of stupidity. “I don’t mean she likes likes you. My mom’s not a cougar, or anything, so you don’t have to be afraid to come here. I mean, she’s in love with Jesus. Well, she’s in love with my dad, but she loves Jesus, too.” I palm-smacked my forehead to get the words to stop. “Not guys my age, though. Ew. You could be my brother. No wait. Not my brother. Then I couldn’t—” I stopped abruptly. What was wrong with me?

  “All of that is good news,” Sebastian finally said into the awkward silence. “About your mom, I mean. Because I think I like her, too, but I don’t like her like her.” He was teasing me. I could feel the heat creep up my chest and neck.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, totally embarrassed. “Sometimes my mouth does things without my permission.”

  Sebastian laughed out loud on his end of the line. I was so glad he wasn’t in the room with me to see the blush blaze across my cheeks.

  “Stop laughing at me. I’m trying to apologize.”

  “I’m not laughing at you.” His voice quieted and I could tell he’d brought his lips closer to the receiver. “I’m enjoying you. I think it’s not just your mom I like, Tish Ransome.”

  “Oh.” My heart was thumping like a kettle drum inside my chest, and suddenly there were no other words in my head.

  “Like you like you,” he clarified.

  “Oh.” Somebody had better change the subject quick, because I seriously didn’t know where to go from there.

  “So has Alejandro been behaving himself?”

  I let out a high-pitched, nervous giggle, a sound like something Gina would make. How did he know I was sitting there in the dark, staring at his guitar? I cleared my throat, feeling a little claustrophobic in the diminutive room. “Alejandro has been nothing but a gentleman,” I said, pulling the door open and letting the light from the kitchen spill in around me. Along with it came some of my composure, which was a good thing, because I looked up to find Mom and Ani staring at me with impatient questions in their eyes. “It’s Chanticlaire you should be worried about. She’s a hussy through and through.” I grinned at Mom’s narrowed eyes and she flicked a dishtowel at me, the end of it catching the front of my thigh with remarkable precision. She was an expert towel-whipper, and we all knew to take cover when she started winding one up. I dodged the next flick and made it around to the other side of the island and perched up on a stool.

  “Hey. A little business, okay?” I steered the conversation back into comfortable territory. “Tom will probably contact you about this if he hasn’t already, but we’re going to make this Friday his last show with us. We think it would be better if you played the whole set so we can really put him out there front and center. We have one more private party the following weekend that you’ll be doing on your own, but it’s an easy gig. Only one set. And then nothing until the first Friday in July at Taylors before we start getting really busy again. Think you can make that happen?”

  He hesitated briefly, before saying, “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Cool. I’ll let Tom know.” I narrowed my eyes at the big family calendar hanging on the fridge, checking for any conflicts. “So we’re thinking we should take advantage of the lighter load. Do you think you could add in a few extra sessions this week in prep
aration for Tom’s send-off—we want to make it memorable. I know you probably put in a good chunk of time on your own last week learning all the new stuff we gave you. It’s a lot to ask of you, but I think it would be good if we could.” Wrap it up, T-Bird. You’re rambling. “Say Tuesday and Friday night, too? If nothing else, at least you and I could get together and go over a few of the more Tom-heavy songs.”

  “I’d be there every night of the week if you asked me,” he said. Dude. Boy was flirting big time, now. I dipped my head, not wanting Mom or Ani to see me blush.

  “Oh. Good. Okay. I’ll call the guys and see what they can swing. And I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

  “I’ll be there. What time?”

  “About seven? Or do you want to come for dinner?” I raised my eyebrows at Mom and she nodded.

  He hesitated for a moment, and then said, “Naw. I’m cooking spaghetti for me and my dad tomorrow night.” How sweet was that? My heart melted a little over the visual of Sebastian in an apron whipping up a pot of spaghetti.

  “Hey! Bring your dad! I’d love to meet him.” I straightened, liking the idea the second it came out of my mouth. “There’s always room for one more at our table.”

  Not even a breath of a pause this time. “Thanks, but I think we’ll pass. Especially if I’m going to be gone so much this week. We don’t spend a lot of down time together.”

  “Oh! Of course. I totally understand. Then tomorrow night around seven?”

  “Tomorrow night around seven. But Tish? Can I ask a favor?”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  “Can I come by and pick up my guitars? I want to put a little time in before practice. I don’t work tomorrow.” His words came out in a rush, like he thought he was really putting me out in some way.