next to the grill. Cate was pouring orange juice as Mike walked into the room, having found the front door open.
"You're here every day now," she stopped long enough to tell him.
"I like when you're happy," he stuttered grumpily, barely awake. "Coffee?" Cate gestured toward the French press with the pitcher she held. Before Mike could answer, she went back to her first love, singing.
When a Judds song clicked on, Cate's low voice found its home. Mama, He's Crazy filled the kitchen as Cate tapped the volume up, her voice hugging the harmonies.
Mike fell onto a stool, holding the coffee mug to his lips as it were a life preserver.
Nic walked into the room, his face and hair rumpled.
"Sounds good, smells good." He swiped one of the orange juices. Offering Mike a nod, Nic fell onto the tall barstool next to him, half-awake.
Al swept into the room, blissful, aware of every eye that hit her. Cate smiled to herself as she took in her beautiful daughter. Her children were both in pajamas, Mike wore faded jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair fell over his face as he leaned down, exhausted.
"Y'all are like a bunch of half-dead college students," Cate stopped singing long enough to proclaim. She'd be exhausted when the weekend was over too. But she'd only give into it once she soaked every minute out of it.
Chapter Thirty Three
"He's got to stand up to him," Rob was saying passionately.
"It won't do any good," Cate replied forcibly.
"It will do good! He's got to know how he feels!"
Drums crashed and cymbals sounded. A rhythmic beat, pierced by electric guitar. Bass joined in, humming low.
"The rain, it slowly soothes..." Lyrics rang out.
Rob was serious. Six feet tall, with shoulder-length, curly, dark-as-night hair, and serious eyes that were more intent than usual, Nic's lead singer sipped water and stood, listening.
"Tom needs to know how Nic feels," Rob repeated.
"It won't help the situation."
"Why?"
"Rob, it's not something you're used to. Tom has a disease," Cate said, shooting for a kind tone. "He's incapable of hearing this."
"There can't be lies."
"There's no such thing as honesty now."
"But why−" Rob paused. "You're right. I don't get it."
"It's an impossible situation."
"Nic shouldn't be treated this way."
"I know."
"I should get back." Looking around for the water he'd put down, and offering Cate a shy smile, Rob stepped toward the staircase.
"Hey−"
He turned, "Yeah?"
"Thanks. It helps to be understood."
Rob's eyes lit up for a brief second as a smile crossed his beautiful face. He nodded, then he was gone.
Cate loved Nic's bandmates as if they were family. She especially appreciated Rob seeking her out and asking after Tom, as he always did. Cate didn't want anyone to think ill of her former husband. However, she wanted−no, she needed support.
"He walked in front of me, being careful not to walk next to me," she'd told Rob, who'd sneered. Cate continued, "We went to dinner, and he physically moved away, not wanting to sit next to me or even touch me." She'd demonstrated then, moving her legs away and twisting her torso, making a face as if there was something disgusting waiting to rub on her jeans.
Mike had walked in then. The look on both men's faces fed Cate's heart sincerely. She had needed someone, anyone , to tell her she wasn't insane. She hadn't realized how much. This disease was tearing her apart.
When Rob left the room, Mike said quietly, "You don't talk about it."
"I can't."
"Why?" He leaned one elbow on the nearby counter and talked to Cate's back.
"It's too hard." Words piled out of Cate's mouth now. She trusted Mike but he'd opened a long-closed, steel door. "There's too much doubt. What if the way he's acting is normal? What if he's right? What if he's right about me?"
The silence in the kitchen was palpable, and she didn't dare breathe for a minute. What she couldn't see was Mike's expression.
"He's not right," he said simply.
Cate let her breathe out on a
"You're here every day now," she stopped long enough to tell him.
"I like when you're happy," he stuttered grumpily, barely awake. "Coffee?" Cate gestured toward the French press with the pitcher she held. Before Mike could answer, she went back to her first love, singing.
When a Judds song clicked on, Cate's low voice found its home. Mama, He's Crazy filled the kitchen as Cate tapped the volume up, her voice hugging the harmonies.
Mike fell onto a stool, holding the coffee mug to his lips as it were a life preserver.
Nic walked into the room, his face and hair rumpled.
"Sounds good, smells good." He swiped one of the orange juices. Offering Mike a nod, Nic fell onto the tall barstool next to him, half-awake.
Al swept into the room, blissful, aware of every eye that hit her. Cate smiled to herself as she took in her beautiful daughter. Her children were both in pajamas, Mike wore faded jeans and a black t-shirt. His hair fell over his face as he leaned down, exhausted.
"Y'all are like a bunch of half-dead college students," Cate stopped singing long enough to proclaim. She'd be exhausted when the weekend was over too. But she'd only give into it once she soaked every minute out of it.
Chapter Thirty Three
"He's got to stand up to him," Rob was saying passionately.
"It won't do any good," Cate replied forcibly.
"It will do good! He's got to know how he feels!"
Drums crashed and cymbals sounded. A rhythmic beat, pierced by electric guitar. Bass joined in, humming low.
"The rain, it slowly soothes..." Lyrics rang out.
Rob was serious. Six feet tall, with shoulder-length, curly, dark-as-night hair, and serious eyes that were more intent than usual, Nic's lead singer sipped water and stood, listening.
"Tom needs to know how Nic feels," Rob repeated.
"It won't help the situation."
"Why?"
"Rob, it's not something you're used to. Tom has a disease," Cate said, shooting for a kind tone. "He's incapable of hearing this."
"There can't be lies."
"There's no such thing as honesty now."
"But why−" Rob paused. "You're right. I don't get it."
"It's an impossible situation."
"Nic shouldn't be treated this way."
"I know."
"I should get back." Looking around for the water he'd put down, and offering Cate a shy smile, Rob stepped toward the staircase.
"Hey−"
He turned, "Yeah?"
"Thanks. It helps to be understood."
Rob's eyes lit up for a brief second as a smile crossed his beautiful face. He nodded, then he was gone.
Cate loved Nic's bandmates as if they were family. She especially appreciated Rob seeking her out and asking after Tom, as he always did. Cate didn't want anyone to think ill of her former husband. However, she wanted−no, she needed support.
"He walked in front of me, being careful not to walk next to me," she'd told Rob, who'd sneered. Cate continued, "We went to dinner, and he physically moved away, not wanting to sit next to me or even touch me." She'd demonstrated then, moving her legs away and twisting her torso, making a face as if there was something disgusting waiting to rub on her jeans.
Mike had walked in then. The look on both men's faces fed Cate's heart sincerely. She had needed someone, anyone , to tell her she wasn't insane. She hadn't realized how much. This disease was tearing her apart.
When Rob left the room, Mike said quietly, "You don't talk about it."
"I can't."
"Why?" He leaned one elbow on the nearby counter and talked to Cate's back.
"It's too hard." Words piled out of Cate's mouth now. She trusted Mike but he'd opened a long-closed, steel door. "There's too much doubt. What if the way he's acting is normal? What if he's right? What if he's right about me?"
The silence in the kitchen was palpable, and she didn't dare breathe for a minute. What she couldn't see was Mike's expression.
"He's not right," he said simply.
Cate let her breathe out on a
Similar Books
