The Ransome Brothers Page 15

  “You thought I would be into wedding planning?” he asks. “Why in the hell would you think that?”

  “Because you’re the sensitive one,” she says, as if that should be obvious.

  “I don’t have a vagina, Paige.”

  Cash snorts out a laugh. “You sure about that?”

  Lennon opens his mouth to reply but Haylee takes his hand. “I can definitely vouch for the lack of vagina,” she says. Then she tugs on his ear, hard. “Not that having a vagina should have anything to do with wedding planning.”

  “Exactly!” Paige says. “You boys don’t get to shove all this work off on the girls. That’s totally unfair.”

  “Like you’re not dying to plan the entire thing yourself,” Lennon tells her.

  Paige straightens her shoulders. “I’m perfectly happy to be team leader,” she says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t need help.”

  “Oh, God,” Cash mutters. “This is sounding like the sand castle building all over again. You’re not allowed to go all fascist on us, Paige.”

  “Cash,” Reed says, his voice low. “Don’t take it out on Paige.”

  “Take what out on Paige?” I ask, looking between the two of them.

  “Nothing,” Cash says quickly, shooting Reed a warning look. “Chill out, Mr. Drama.”

  I catch Daltrey’s eye, and he shakes his head, apparently not knowing anything more than I do about this weird dynamic.

  “Anyhow,” Paige says, and I’m pretty sure I see a warning in her eyes too when they flick past her boyfriend. “The first thing we need to do is think about a theme.”

  “A theme?” Daltrey frowns. “What the hell does that mean?”

  Paige looks at him with wide eyes. “You know. What do you want your wedding to mean? What do you want it to say about you?”

  I look at him, at a loss. “Uh…that we, you know, love each other?”

  Paige shakes her head. “That’s not a theme. A theme is like a vintage wedding. Or a country chic wedding. Ooh, one time I went to a carnival themed wedding and it was so cute. Or you could do a nautical wedding—”

  “We’ve never even been on a boat,” Daltrey says, looking distinctly panicked now. Across the room, I see both Levi and Cash hiding their mouths behind their hands, like they’re trying hard not to laugh at us.

  “I don’t know, Paige,” I try. “None of those ideas really sound like us.”

  “That’s fine!” Paige says brightly. “This is a big decision. And I brought tons of research for us.” She opens a battered Ransom tote bag. “I think I have enough for everyone to take two,” she mumbles, pulling a huge stack of thick magazines from the bag.

  “Are those bridal magazines?” Cash asks, already taking a step back.

  “They’re wedding magazines,” Paige says, her voice sharp. “Because we’ve already determined that the responsibility for planning does not lie solely with the bride.”

  “Right.” Cash holds up his hands. “What I don’t get is why any part of it lies with me.”

  “Because,” Paige says, smiling sweetly. “I said so.”

  Since there isn’t really any way to argue with that, Cash begrudgingly takes the two magazines Paige hands him—I’m pretty sure she gave him the two thickest ones.

  “So all we’re doing right now is brainstorming,” Paige explains. “Let’s look through these and tear out any pages that look interesting.”

  Paige spends the next hour scolding Lennon and Levi for not tearing out enough pages and Cash for tearing out too many. “What?” Cash asks. “I’m trying to participate here, Paige.”

  She glares down at his stack of magazine clippings. “Why do all of your pages feature scantily dressed models?”

  “That’s a gross exaggeration.”

  She grabs the pages from his hand. “Lingerie. Slutty short dress. See through dress. More lingerie. Really, Cash? A list of best bikinis for the honeymoon?” She crosses her arms.

  “You said to cut out anything I found interesting!”

  Paige sighs. “I really wish Sam was here.”

  “So do I,” he grumbles. “Then I could be spending my day with her instead of planning my little brother’s wedding.”

  “Sam would totally be on board with wedding planning,” Paige says.

  “She has a point,” I tell him. “Sam likes me much better than she likes you.”

  I expect him to tease me right back—this is Cash, after all—so I’m surprised when his face instead drains of color. “Cash?”

  “Can we get back to work?” Paige calls, and Cash quickly bends his head to his magazine. “Except for you.” Paige snatches up his magazines. “You’ve been demoted.”

  After that Paige makes Cash organize our clippings instead—I keep my eye on him but he seems back to normal, if a little more quiet than usual. And I have other things on my mind. By the time Paige is satisfied, my vague worries about Cash have been obliterated by the sheer tsunami of wedding clippings. We have stacks of pages divided into categories—dresses, venue, decor, food, and something Paige calls wow factor. I’m starting to feel pretty damn dizzy.

  “Paige, this is kind of overwhelming,” I tell her.

  She squeezes my arm. “Trust me. All of this will help.” She hands me the first stack—decor. “Just give me your gut reaction. Do you like it or not?”

  I look at Daltrey, the panic I feel reflecting back at me.

  “Just do it,” Karen mutters from my other side. “You know she’ll never let it go.”

  “You better get over here,” I tell Daltrey. “I’m not doing this by myself.”

  Karen stands up so he can take her place on the couch. “Want me to bring you some liquor?” she asks.

  “Please.”

  Cash frowns, looking confused. “I thought you couldn’t drink when you’re nursing?”

  I glare at him. “Pump and dump is a thing, buddy. And I highly suggest you don’t offer anything close to an opinion on my breastfeeding. Or anyone else’s. No boobs, no opinion.”

  He holds up his hands. “Sorry, sorry. Zero opinion. I was just curious.”

  Karen returns with some beers for everyone and I take a deep breath, diving into the pile of clippings from Paige. Picture after picture of floral arrangements, place settings, centerpieces, alter arrangements. Some of them are sweet and simple, some of them over the top. Bright and colorful, soft and delicate. They’re all nice, but I have no idea how I’m supposed to have an opinion on any of them.

  “Okay,” Paige says soothingly when my frustration becomes evident. “Let’s try something more fun. Wow factor.”

  “What the hell is wow factor?” Lennon asks.

  I can tell Paige is trying hard not to roll her eyes. “It’s like, the thing that puts you over the top. Something special. Something unique.”

  He doesn’t look convinced. “Aren’t weddings pretty much all the same?”

  Paige appears scandalized and Cash cuts in before she can muster up a word. “It’s like, you know how when we play bigger venues we add some special effects? Like lasers and smoke and all that shit? That’s wow factor.”

  His words are met by silence, Paige staring like she isn’t sure what to make of him. “That’s actually…pretty much exactly what I mean,” she says, frowning.

  “You don’t have to look so shocked,” Cash mutters. “I’m not a total idiot.”

  “Mostly an idiot,” Karen says sweetly, patting his head. “But not total.”

  The wow factor stack is more interesting than the decor, at least. We look at weddings that feature a chocolate fountain, a bouncy castle, a fireworks show, food trucks, personalized beer party favors—even a puppy petting pen for guests to enjoy during cocktail hour. To my surprise, Daltrey starts to get pretty into it. “I want a chocolate fountain!” he says. “That’s so cool! Look at this, Dais. Puppies. We could have cute little puppies at our wedding! Or a soda fountain!”

  I search the room for a sympathetic face but everyone seems
to be more enthused now. Haylee is showing Lennon the article about food trucks, gushing about all the different options we could bring in. Cash is excited about the bouncy castle idea, and a picture someone found featuring a bunch of lawn games. “Wyatt will totally dig this,” he tells Paige. Even Levi is getting into the spirit, drawing Reed into a detailed technical conversation of what type of set-up we would need to do fireworks.

  “This is great!” Paige tells me. “We could totally pull some of this off!”

  “Doesn’t it seem kind of…excessive?” I ask. “I mean…fireworks? A ton of food trucks? That’s got to be expensive.”

  She shrugs. “You and Daltrey are totally rich. And this is a once in a lifetime thing!”

  “Unless you finally take my advice and leave him,” Cash interjects, earning himself a smack on the head from Haylee.

  I look over at Daltrey. “How do you feel about this?”

  He shrugs, but his eyes are dancing. “I’m kind of getting into it. Some of this looks really fun. And we’re a fun couple, right? So we should reflect that in our wedding.” He looks at me closely. “If that’s what you want.”

  What do I want? It’s starting to feel really big, really overwhelming. But Daltrey looks so cute when he’s excited like this. And it seems like everyone else is excited too…

  “Babe, we’re not doing anything you don’t want to do,” he says firmly.

  “I do feel a little overwhelmed,” I admit.

  “That’s totally normal!” Paige chirps. I didn’t realize she was listening. “And you have a lot on your plate with the baby and Daltrey getting into heavy rehearsals and everything.”

  I breathe a sigh of relief, hoping we can dial this whole thing back a bit. But Paige continues. “I actually think it would be a really good idea for you to hire a wedding planner.”

  “Really?” Daltrey asks, smirking. “I kind of assumed you were our wedding planner.”

  She rolls her eyes at him. “I’m team leader. But I’m not a professional. You totally need someone who has contacts and experience in the industry.”

  “We do?” I ask, the overwhelmed feeling returning.

  “We’re already on a tight schedule,” she goes on, pulling out her phone to look at a calendar. “I mean, if we’re talking about a summer wedding, that’s only a few months! It usually takes people a year or more to plan a wedding.”

  “It does?” Now the overwhelmed feeling is shifting into something very much like panic.

  “But don’t worry,” Paige says quickly. “A good wedding planner can make things happen. Plus, you know, we can just get Daltrey to throw some money at it.”

  “Thanks, Paige,” he says.

  She rolls her eyes. “Like you wouldn’t do anything to give Daisy her dream wedding.”

  My dream wedding. I frown, thinking about that. I have no idea what my dream wedding would even be. Sure, some of these ideas sound pretty fun for a party. But fireworks? Spending obscene amounts of money for a single day?

  Daltrey must misread my frown. “I was just joking about the money,” he says quickly, reaching for my hands. “Of course we should hire a wedding planner. It would make everything so much easier on us.”

  “Daltrey,” I begin, but he’s still talking.

  “I want to do this, Daisy. I want us to have a big, fun wedding with all of our friends. I mean, it’s like Paige said, right? We’re only doing this once.”

  I look into his familiar, blue eyes, so eager and excited. He waited for me for years, waited for me to come back to him, waited for me to be ready to get engaged. If he wants a big exciting wedding, why should I put a damper on that? Especially when everyone else seems so into it too. And if Paige can really get us a great wedding planner to handle most of the details, I suppose I don’t have much reason to feel overwhelmed.

  I tamp down the little whisper of unease at the back of my mind. “All right,” I say, smiling when his grin grows in response to my words. “Let’s throw a big damn wedding.”

  Will

  It’s funny how normal this feels, after just a few weeks. Ruby, asleep in my bed, her chin resting on my shoulder, her short pixie hair tickling my nose.

  We’ve fallen into a routine in the days since that first date, when we ate nachos and I confessed all of my family’s dirty secrets. When Ruby listened to me without judgment and I kissed her in response. I spend most of my days on busy work for the band. I take all the calls with the label, I relate scheduling issues to Levi, I talk to their lawyers and the documentary producers and the security at the venue and the sponsors and…on and on and on. It keeps me busy, keeps me feeling productive. Lets me pretend, for a few minutes at a time, that I’m actually helping my boys. Making their lives easier.

  But at night, when work is over, when I’ve exhausted every meaningless, mundane task that I can think of for the band, that’s when I start to worry. I worry about the boys, about what might be happening in their lives that I don’t know about. How they’re adjusting to the move. How Daltrey is handling the monumental task of caring for a newborn. How pissed Reed might be. How Lennon is coping.

  Mostly I worry that I’ll never get back to where I was with them, a thought that scares me so badly it actually takes my breath away. A thought that sends the loneliness surging into my chest, overwhelming me with its ferocity.

  I hate the nights.

  Except for the ones I spend with Ruby. Most nights that she works late find me sitting at her bar, keeping her company in her brief moments of down time. Watching her unashamedly the rest of the time, while she laughs with the customers and teases her staff. We usually end up back here, since my house is so close to the bar and Ruby is inevitably exhausted after her long shifts. But not so exhausted that we go right to sleep when we collapse into my bed. We spend those late hours in the quiet together, making love, talking in the darkness, her teasing me, me trying to make her laugh.

  Somehow she makes the loneliness go away. Somehow she makes the worry stop, at least for a while.

  Tonight she fell asleep more quickly than usual, wiped out from covering the early shift before working until close. It’s harder, without her voice to keep me company, but I satisfy myself with the feel of her in my arms, the softness of her skin, the gentle way her shoulders rise and fall against mine as she breathes. It’s almost as good as when she’s awake, getting to feel her body and her breathing like this. Almost, but not quite. I miss the sound of her voice when she’s asleep. Miss the way her eyes flash at me, the way I can always see the laugh on her face in the split second before it comes from her mouth. Ruby is so full of that laughter, full of quick comebacks and teasing and endless words as she tries to draw me out of my shell. Silence with her feels strange, unsettling. Silence and Ruby don’t go together.

  The current silence is broken by the buzz of my phone as it vibrates along the nightstand. I reach for it, careful not to jostle Ruby, and when I see the name on the screen, my heart seems to stop in my chest.

  “Cash?”

  “Dad?” asks the voice on the other end of the line.

  “What’s wrong, Son?” I ask, already sliding my arm out from beneath Ruby’s shoulders so I can sit up in the bed.

  “I…I screwed up, Dad.” His voice is shaken, the words slurred. I’ve heard this voice before, many times. Cash is drunk.

  “Where are you?”

  “Dad…”

  “Just give me the address, Cash.”

  There’s a muffled sound of voices before Cash comes back on the line. “9th and Harper,” he says. “The bar’s called Duggan’s.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Cash is silent on the other end of the line for a long moment. Finally he releases a breath, the sound loud and shaky in my ear. “Okay. Thanks.”

  I end the call, reaching for my jeans.

  “Everything okay?”

  I turn back to see Ruby moving to sit up, her short hair mussed, eyes blinking in confusion. She looks so be
autiful, sprawled there in my bed, the moonlight dancing over the sheet that covers her. I reach out a hand to smooth across the swell of her hip. “I need to go out for a bit.”

  “Was that…that was Cash?”

  I nod, a tremor of worry running through me. “My son.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “No. Stay here. Sleep.”

  She watches me for a long moment, and I get the feeling she’s trying to decide whether or not to argue. In spite of the fear I feel for Cash, there’s a smile tugging at my lips. Of course she wants to argue. It’s what she does best. That and boss me around. “I shouldn’t be gone long,” I tell her.

  She nods. “Then I’ll wait.”

  I lean down and kiss her before finding the rest of my clothes and hurrying from the house.

  The address Cash gave me is close, less than a ten minute drive. I make good time on the nearly empty streets as most of the world around me sleeps. I try not to worry as I drive. Try not to think about what kind of trouble Cash might have gotten into that’s so bad he’d actually call me. Especially when his brothers and Levi are also in town. At least he isn’t at the police station, I tell myself, trying not to let my mind go to the worry that plagued me in those days following Cash’s DUI. He’s still at the bar. He’s not out driving.

  It’s some amount of comfort but my heart is still pounding when I park my Jeep in front of the bar Cash indicated. The place looks run down from the outside, the kind of bar someone might go to when they have no desire to see or be seen. It’s just about time for last call and the parking lot seems pretty deserted as I make my way inside. I see Cash right away, sitting at the bar, head bowed. A pissed off looking mountain of a man with silver hair is standing next to him, arms crossed over a bulging chest.

  “You with this one?” the man asks, jerking his chin toward Cash as I approach.

  “He’s my kid. What’s the problem?” Cash doesn’t look up when I reach his side. “Cash?”

  “He ran up a two hundred-dollar bill,” the man says. “Then he decided to get in a fight and did a shit ton of damage.” I glance over to see two collapsed tables to the left of the bar. “Then he tells me he lost his wallet and doesn’t have any cash to pay for any of this.”