Cards On The Table
Miraculously, I survive Christmas in Tulsa with my family, and my reward for that is New Years in Los Angeles with Carrick. With blankets and light jackets, we sneak onto what’s probably a private beach and watch as people set off fireworks across the water. This is it. This is our new beginning, our chance to finally get things right and make this year so, so much better than the last. I’ve always put a lot of stock, maybe too much, in the blank slate that is a new year, but this time I really believe in it, more than I ever have before. This really is our time now.
A little over a week has passed since then, and I’ve still barely returned back to Earth. The only thing bringing me back down is the fact that my brothers are here now. We’re in the final stretch of recording, pushing ourselves as hard as we possibly can. We’ve never set a hard deadline before, at least not since we started working for ourselves, but we have a videoshoot scheduled for tomorrow and we decided it would be nice if we had a finished song for it.
And because I’m far too nice of a person, I offered to let them both stay here while we record.
“So,” Isaac says, setting his beer down on my coffee table. “Where’s Carrick? He hasn’t been around much since we got here.”
It’s true that he hasn’t, but I suppose my brothers don’t know that I’ve been talking to him every night before I go to bed. The two of them are crashed out on my living room floor, since Shep and Junia’s beds aren’t exactly their size, and tonight we’re having a late dinner of pizza and beer before we have to go to sleep and wake up early for the videoshoot. Carrick is going to be part of the video, though, but the day that we decided that was the last day I saw him in person. Of course, I can’t explain to Isaac why it’s so awkward for Carrick to be here right now.
“Well, you’ll see him tomorrow,” I reply, shooting a look at Taylor as if to warn him that tomorrow better go well. If he causes a scene, especially in front of all the fans we’ve asked to be extras in the video, I’ll never forgive him.
Taylor blinks at me a few times, and I’m not sure if he gets the warning in my expression or not. Hopefully he does, but I’ve learned not to expect anything at all from him.
Before we can continue that conversation, the doorbell rings. I have a feeling that I know who it is, but then again, that might just be wishful thinking. When I reach the door and open it, my wish comes true. Looking just a little bit sheepish, Carrick is standing there with a big, foil-covered plate in his hands.
“Hey,” I say, pulling him into the room and pressing a quick, hopefully discreet, kiss to his cheek. “What are you doing here? I mean, not that I mind. I just didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”
He shrugs. “Wanted to see you. Plus, I had this batch of special brownies, and it just seemed like a shame not to share them with you all…”
“Did someone say special brownies?” Isaac asks.
“You heard that correctly,” Carrick replies, giving Ike a wide grin as he sits down at the coffee table, as far from Taylor as possible. I don’t blame him for that.
The question is, where do I sit? I stare at them all for a moment, weighing my options. Finally, I decide that I’m being really dumb. Of course the answer is to sit next to my boyfriend, and so that’s exactly what I do. He gives my knee a little squeeze once I get situated in the floor next to him, and that’s all the reassurance I need that it’s stupid to act like we aren’t together. Of course my brothers know, and only one of them has a genuine reason to have a problem with it. And if he does… well, it’s too late for it to matter anyway.
Tomorrow is still a huge hurdle to overcome, but right now I’m happy just to sit here and cuddle up with my boyfriend. I’m happy not to feel like I’m hiding or doing something wrong. I’m just happy, and I haven’t even had a brownie yet.
As Carrick passes said brownies around, Isaac tries to keep the conversation going, making small talk about our collective new albums, plans for the videoshoot, promotions we have coming up—basically anything he can think of besides the elephant in the room. I’ve never liked my oldest brother more than I do right now. When and how he decided to be so supportive, I don’t know, but I’m just glad that he did. At least one of my brothers is making my life a little easier.
And the other one? He’s just sitting there eating his brownie and sipping his beer in silence, which is probably the best I can hope for from him.
“Does anybody else need another beer?” I ask. I’m not really looking for an excuse to leave the room, because things are going pretty well, but I figure I might as well at least try to be a good host.
Carrick and Ike say yes, while Taylor mumbles something that I assume is no. With that as settled as it’s going to be, I stand up and walk to the kitchen to retrieve a few more beers for all of us.
Maybe I’m still being paranoid and overdramatic, but things really are going well. There’s no reason for me to stay on edge, waiting for everything to go wrong. I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to anything resembling normal, if we ever were that, but we’re at least all capable of being in the same room now. That’s progress. The fact that I don’t really even want to kill or maim Taylor is progress, too.
Speak of the devil…
He pads into the room and steps up to the refrigerator, reaching around me to grab a beer. With the tiniest of smiles, he says, “I changed my mind.”
“Good for you,” I reply. It comes out a little ruder than I intend, but it’s too late to take it back, and trying to apologize would just prolong the conversation.
“Are we okay?” He asks, leaning against the counter. “Maybe that’s a dumb question, after everything, but… are we ever going to be okay?”
“I don’t know, Taylor,” I reply honestly. “We’re as close as we can hope to be right now, I think. If you can keep from being an asshole, we’ll be fine.”
“I’m not trying to be a…” He sighs, obviously thinking better of arguing that point. “It’s just, we’ve got a lot riding on this album, you know? More than we’ve had for a while. I don’t want this shit between us, which I know I made worse, to ruin that.”
“Yeah, well, somebody gave me some good advice not long ago. It’s not about what you want to happen; it’s about what you actually do to make that happen or not happen. Actions are what matter, Taylor. And yours… well, I think by now you know how I feel about yours.”
He nods, but I’m not so sure that he understands. The good news is that Taylor can convince himself of just about anything, and if he’s decided to be happy and move on from all that happened between us last year, then that’s what he’ll do. It’s certainly what I’m going to do, but I’ve got a hell of a lot more to be happy about than he does. That thought causes a sharp little pain where I suppose my heart is, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I can’t make Taylor happy; he’s long since proven that he won’t let me. All I can do is make me happy—and Carrick, too, of course.
“We’re getting thirsty in here!” Ike calls out, effectively ruining any sort of bittersweet, meaningful moment Taylor and I might be having. I wouldn’t expect anything else from my dear, oldest brother.
Taylor takes a few of the beers from me, lightening my load a bit. It’s a small gesture, but it means more than it probably should. Of course, I’m not reading anything really deep into it, because I know better now than to hope for anything from Taylor. But at least we can be civil. That’s definitely more than I’ve hoped for lately.
After handing out the beers, I sit down just a little bit closer to Carrick than I was before. It’s not much of a difference, but it’s enough to matter to me and to him. It’s enough to attract Taylor’s attention, too, and I could swear he looks jealous. I’m not sure if that means he’s jealous of Carrick or if he’s just jealous of what we have… what I don’t suppose he’ll ever have with Natalie, even though they’ll never divorce.
Again, I feel that ache in my chest, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“So, are you guys ready for the videoshoot?” Carrick asks.
A chorus of “no” rings out in answer, and then we all laugh, while Carrick looks a little bit horrified.
“Well, what can possibly go wrong, then?” Carrick laughs a little nervously.
“It’s been a long ass time,” Ike says. “And I haven’t even had as eventful of a year as these two. I think we’re all… well, I don’t know. I can’t speak for Tay or Zac. But I’m scared as hell to get back out there.”
“I’m just ready to get back to it,” Tay says softly, and for once, I actually believe him. I suppose he does need the escape.
I nod. “I am, too. I know that moving out here… it’s going to change things. It already has. But you guys know I never meant to quit the band. I never wanted things to end just like that. I’ve missed the music.”
“I know,” Isaac replies. He shoots a quick glance at Taylor before continuing, “We both know that. And I think—I hope—we’re going to be even stronger now. I think we’ve come a long way this past year… maybe some of us more than others, but we’ve still become a better, stronger band for it all.”
He shoots me a meaningful look then, and I wonder once again when he became so proud of me. He doesn’t even know the half of what I’ve been through; if he did, I don’t think he would be nearly as proud. Then again, maybe he would realize that I’ve survived even more over the last seven or eight months than he knew and he would be even more proud of me. Sometimes even I’m shocked that I haven’t gone completely insane by now.
But I haven’t. I’m still here, still hanging on to whatever shred of sanity I started with. It might not be much, but it’s mine, and I’m going to cling to it with all my might.
“Amen to that,” Taylor replies, giving me a little smirk that I can’t quite interpret. Raising his bottle, he adds, “And cheers to getting album number six done!”
We all clink our bottles together and cheer, because god knows it has been a long ride, and I don’t think any of us knew for sure that we would get to the end of it. I’m not just talking about the album, either; the only one of us here who might be is good old, oblivious Isaac.
“Here’s to tomorrow!” Ike adds.
“And every day after that,” Carrick adds softly, squeezing my knee.
God knows what all of those days might hold, but for once, I’m not scared to think about it.