The Ransome Brothers Read online

  “Thank you,” I begin, but she isn’t finished yet.

  “That doesn’t mean you get to lie. Obviously something is wrong. All you have to say is you don’t want to talk about it. But don’t lie to me.”

  I meet her eyes, surprised to see the flat look in them. I have a feeling there’s more to this lying thing than she’s telling me. There’s pain there, some deeply engrained vulnerability. And that, more than anything else, makes me want to talk to her.

  “Rebecca called,” I blurt out. “My ex.”

  Her eyebrows go up. “The boys’ mother?”

  I nod, grabbing a coaster to have something to fidget with. That skin-itching feeling is coming back. “I haven’t heard from her in years. Like, since the divorce was finalized.”

  “Damn.” She leans across the counter, putting her hand over mine, and I’m so grateful for her kindness, for her understanding, I have to take a few deep breaths before I can continue.

  “She’s in town. She wanted to let me know.”

  “Is this the first time she’s been around?”

  “I don’t know.” I couldn’t have kept the sharpness from my voice if I tried. “She’s never told me where she was before.”

  “So why is she now? Is it because Lennon went to see her?”

  I slide my fingers out from under hers so I can spin the coaster with both hands. “She said Daltrey wrote her, too. And I had no idea.” I shake my head. “Apparently he’s had more to say to her than he has to me.”

  “Will.” I look up at her, willing my hands to still. “You should tell them.”

  “Tell them what?”

  “That she’s here.”

  I pull back, physically recoiling at the thought. “What? No. I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  I don’t know how to explain it, to tell her how panicked it makes me feel, to think about the boys being near her. Going to see her. Forgiving her.

  You’re a selfish asshole, Will Ransome, I think, closing my eyes.

  “Look,” Ruby says, her voice calm, and I wonder if she can tell how close I am to freaking out. “The way I see it, those boys are angry because you kept things from them, right?”

  “I was trying to protect them,” I say quickly even as I wonder why I’m being defensive with her.

  “I get that,” she says smoothly. “And I would assume you’d be trying to do the same thing, by not letting them know she’s nearby.”

  “I…I don’t like the thought of them seeing her. Or getting all worked up because they’re thinking about her being close.”

  “I’m sure they think about her, Will, whether she’s close or not. Especially after everything with Lennon.”

  I nod, throat too tight to speak.

  “They need to know that you’re willing to be honest with them,” she goes on. “That you’re not hiding things. This could go a long way in doing that.”

  When I don’t respond she reaches down and lifts my chin with her fingers. “What if they find out she’s here on their own?” she asks. “And that you didn’t tell them?”

  I let out a shaky breath. “I’m not sure if things could get worse, but that sure as hell wouldn’t make them better.”

  She laughs a little. “Right? So tell them. Let them know you’re there for them. That’s all they want to hear from you, Will. I’m sure of it.”

  She holds my gaze for a long moment and my chest starts to loosen, the skin-crawling feeling fading away at last. “You’re pretty damn smart, aren’t you?” I ask, feeling even better when she smiles.

  “Stick with me, buddy. I won’t steer you wrong.”

  I lean across the bar, capturing her lips with mine, hoping like hell I’ll be able to do just that.

  * * *

  Later that night, lying in my bed, Ruby tells me about the Purple Cat.

  “When I moved out here, I felt really disconnected,” she says, warm breath dancing across the skin of my chest.

  I run my fingers along the nape of her neck, smiling when I feel her shiver slightly against me. “You were homesick?”

  She’s quiet for a moment, like she’s thinking about it. “Yeah, I was homesick. But it was more than that. I felt like…it was like I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I didn’t know where I fit.”

  I think of those early days back in Ohio, when I’d moved the boys cross country to get some help from my family. I can definitely relate. “You told me you moved here for your daughter?”

  “Grace got into this after-school program at Caltech. Kid has always been amazing at science” She laughs a little. “I never understood half the stuff that came out of her mouth, honestly. But this program was pretty prestigious, and I wanted her to be able to go.”

  “You moved cross country for a high school science program?”

  There’s another long stretch of quiet. “We both needed the fresh start.”

  Her words come back to me, from that night when we first talked about Rebecca at that sports bar, weeks ago. “You’re being a bit vague, you know. Not giving me much to work with.”

  I don’t have to be looking at her face to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Now you’re Mr. Open Communication, huh?”

  I kiss the top of her head. “We don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But we can.”

  For a long while I’m sure she’s not going to talk. Her breathing evens out, her shoulders relaxing against my chest. I wonder if maybe she’s fallen asleep. Then she draws in a breath. “I had Grace when I was young. Too young. I was nineteen, and I was naïve. I didn’t know who I was, or what I wanted. Her father…my ex, Derek…he was older. He made everything so easy on me, you know? I never had to worry about anything because he would just take care of it. The house, our bills, all the decisions…I thought he’d take care of us forever.” She swallows. “I found out about the cheating when Grace was ten.”

  “Shit, Ruby. I’m so sorry.”

  “I stayed. I had no idea what my life looked like without him in it. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it, wouldn’t be able to take care of her on my own.” What she’s describing sounds so unlike the Ruby I know. That she would put up with a betrayal like that is shocking to me.

  “How long?”

  Her voice is hard when she responds. “Too long. He promised he’d never do it again, and I believed it because I wanted to. Because it meant that I could stay.”

  “I understand doing something you regret out of fear. I think we’ve all done that.”

  She sighs. “A few years later he went out of town. Business. I planned a whole girls weekend for Grace and me while he was gone. Shopping, movies, dinner. We got to the restaurant, and he was there. With her. Not away on business after all.” She laughs but there’s no humor in the sound. “Grace saw them. Saw him kissing another woman. She was fourteen.”

  “Jesus.”

  When she answers she no longer sounds so hard, so bitter. She sounds a lot more like herself. “It shouldn’t have taken that for me to leave, I know. But I realized right then I wasn’t going to do that to my daughter. I wasn’t going to teach her that it was okay, that anyone deserved to be disrespected like that.”

  “So you moved to California.”

  “So we moved to California.”

  I hug her a little tighter. “I get wanting a fresh start, but I still think moving all the way to the West Coast is pretty extreme.”

  She shrugs. “I wanted extreme. I wanted a change, a real one, in every sense of the word. And California seemed about as far away from where we were as it was possible to get.”

  “And where you were…that was Florida?”

  “No. We lived in Connecticut with Derek. Florida is where I was born. I lived in Key West until I was sixteen. It was the last place I remember feeling like I was really sure of myself, like I knew just who I was and what I wanted.”

  “Hence the decor at the bar.”

  She laughs. “Hence the decor at the bar.”

&n
bsp; “When did you buy it?”

  “Five years ago.”

  It makes sense now, why she was so firm earlier in declaring that she doesn’t do lies. It strikes me, laying there in the darkness, how brave she is. To have moved so far, all alone with a teenager, starting a whole new life when she herself was still fairly young. And how brave it is that she’s here with me now, that she’s still so willing to trust, to be open with someone, even after the worst kind of betrayal.

  I’ve never been that brave. But Ruby makes me want to be.

  I pull her more fully into my arms so she’s stretched out over my chest, her face hovering above mine. “I think you’re pretty amazing, you know that?”

  She grins down at me, her eyes flashing in that familiar way. There’s nothing about this woman that suggests a lack of confidence, no measure of self-doubt. She didn’t just create a new life here on the west coast—she created a whole new self. Someone secure in who she is. Someone determined to enjoy life, not just live it.

  “I do know it,” she says, bringing her lips down to mine. “That’s why you chased me so hard.”

  “I thought we decided that you chased me.”

  She kisses me again, longer this time. “Keep dreaming.”

  I kiss her back, thinking about dreams, about second chances and new lives. “I am, Ruby. I am.”

  Cash

  Five Years Ago

  With less than an hour left before the most important concert of our lives, I’m having a hard time keeping my temper in check. My brothers are pissing me off—like usual. “Daltrey!” I finally bark. “For the love of God, stop jiggling your foot like that before I rip it off.”

  My little brother glares at me. “Excuse me for being nervous, ass.”

  “We’re all nervous,” Reed begins but Daltrey interrupts with a snorting noise.

  “Yeah, well, you’re not all singing, are you?”

  I groan, loudly. “Could you maybe be a little more full of yourself baby brother? I mean, if you really tried, I bet you could.”

  “Fuck off, Cash.”

  “How about you fuck off?” I shoot back. I know it’s stupid to let the idiot kid get to me, but damn it, I’m nervous, too. And taking it out on the pretty boy sounds awfully good right about now.

  “Okay,” Reed says, his voice loud, and from the glare he shoots me, I know my older brother can tell exactly what I’m thinking. “We’re not fighting right now. We’re about to headline our own show for the first time. Let’s get our heads in the game.”

  “What are you talking about?” Levi asks. “You’ve headlined tons of shows.”

  “I don’t think Hank’s Lounge in Toledo is quite on the same level as this, Levi,” Lennon says, and another surge of nerves rolls through me. Lennon is right—nothing we’ve done so far has been close to this level. Even opening for Grey Skies, though their venues were absolutely massive, had been nothing like this. Our own headlining tour. At legit venues, backed up by a major label and honest to God sponsors.

  I think I might actually throw up.

  “Regardless,” Levi says, his voice not entirely even, “Reed is right. It’s not the time to fight.” I glance up at our head roadie, surprised to see that our old friend looks almost as nervous as the rest of us, whatever he might say. That realization sends another wave of nausea through me. Levi is usually pretty unflappable. For him to be visibly nervous means the stakes are just as high as I think.

  “Well what the hell should we do?” Daltrey asks, his voice sounding awfully high-pitched. “I think I’m going to go crazy if I have to just sit here.”

  “We could practice,” Reed suggests, and I struggle not to roll my eyes. Of course that’s what Reed would suggest. The guy gets off on work the way most normal people might enjoy a beer to unwind.

  “I’m not rehearsing,” Daltrey snaps. “The last thing I need is to wear out my voice before we even get out there.”

  I roll my eyes. “Seriously? If your voice is so fragile that you can’t handle a few extra minutes of singing, maybe you shouldn’t be on lead.”

  “Who the hell else is going to do it?” Daltrey shoots back. “You? Yeah right.”

  I stand, pushing my chair back, and Daltrey immediately jumps to his feet, apparently just as eager as I am to release some tension by way of a fight with his brother.

  “Stop it,” Reed says, standing between us. Lennon just closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch cushion.

  “I’m so sick of his mouth,” I say, pointing at Daltrey.

  “Give me a break!” Daltrey yells. “You started it. You always start it.”

  “You were the first one to open your mouth,” Lennon points out, and I round on him.

  “You want to start with me, Len?”

  Lennon gives me an exasperated look before rising from the couch. “Douche,” he mutters as he passes on his way over to the counter where the food and drinks are set out.

  “Jesus,” Levi mutters. “You guys are ridiculous, you know that?”

  “Shut up, Levi,” Reed says. “I’ve got this.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Levi mutters, running a hand through his hair. “You’re doing a great job keeping them in line.”

  “Shut. Up,” Reed growls.

  “This isn’t about Levi,” Daltrey says, trying to push around Reed to get at me. “It’s about him and his big stupid mouth.”

  Reed’s hands come out to press against Daltrey’s chest—the wrong move. Daltrey shoves him, hard, knocking him into Lennon, who’s returning with a beer, spilling the foaming liquid down his shirt.

  “Shit!” Lennon yells, glaring at Reed. “Look what you did!”

  “It’s his fault!” Reed yells back, turning to shove Daltrey. “If you weren’t acting like such an irresponsible child—”

  “Don’t call me a child!”

  “Then don’t act like one,” I say.

  Lennon gestures at his sodden shirt. “What the hell am I supposed to do about this?”

  “I don’t know, dumbass,” I snap. “Put on a clean one?”

  Lennon steps towards me, eyes flashing. “You’re such an asshole.”

  “Why don’t you get a little closer and say that?”

  Lennon starts to do just that when a voice at the doorway makes us all freeze. “What in the hell is going on?”

  We all turn, as one, to see our dad standing there, starring at us with a disapproving expression on his face.

  The room is quiet for a beat before we all begin talking.

  “Cash is being an ass—”

  “—spilled my beer all over me—”

  “—why he can’t just shut up for once—”

  Dad holds up his hands. “Enough.”

  We all stop talking at the same time, looking down at our feet. I feel pretty stupid. I know I started the whole thing—like usual. Why do I always seem to think picking a fight is the best way to deal with stress?

  Dad steps into the room, eyes sweeping across each of us. Lennon’s shirt is a mess, Daltrey’s face is still red, and Reed is standing in the middle with crossed arms. “Levi,” Dad says, his voice calm. “Please get Lennon something dry to wear.”

  “On it,” Levi says, hurrying from the room, probably relieved to be escaping before the lecture starts.

  To my surprise, none comes. “Everything is going to be fine,” Dad says instead. “Yes, this show is a big deal. Yes, it feels pretty scary. But you’ve got this. You’re prepared.” He looks around the room, meeting each of our eyes. “You can do this.”

  I release a breath, feeling like a weight just shifted from my shoulders. Looking around at my brothers, I can tell that they feel the same way. I’m not sure why, but our father’s words are exactly what I needed to hear.

  Will Ransome has always been a tough taskmaster. He pushes us, hard. He always has, ever since we were kids and first displayed some talent at our instruments. It wasn’t hard to resent it, sometimes, especially when I was a teenager and just
wanted to hang out with friends and chase girls. But I’m very much aware that none of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for our father. More than anyone else, Dad knows what we want out of life, out of our careers. And he’s worked his ass off, just like we did, to make it happen.

  And he has never, not once, lied to us just to make us feel better or stroke our egos. He wouldn’t do that. So if he says we’re going to be okay, he means it—believes it. And that, more than anything else, makes me believe it too.

  On the other side of the room, Reed uncrosses his arms, shaking out his hands. “Dad’s right,” he says, his voice losing that tense note it held just a few moments ago. “We know what we’re doing.”

  Lennon catches my eye, the corner of his mouth turning up in a small smile, and I stifle a laugh. This is how it always goes—our father deciding something, Reed right behind him to agree. If there’s anything I can count on in life, it’s my older brother trying to impress our dad.

  “Daltrey,” Dad says, turning to his youngest. “Your voice is in good shape. You just need to remember that Reed sets the beat—at sound check he was speeding up to catch you.” Daltrey looks like he’s going to argue so Dad holds up a hand. “I get it—you were nervous and you tend to go a little faster when you’re nervous. Just concentrate on Reed’s tempo and you’ll be fine.”

  Daltrey nods. “Got it.”

  Dad turns to Lennon. “Careful on that bridge in “Sunshine Girl.” It’s easy for your pinky to slip off the fret when you’re switching it up there.”

  “Yeah,” Lennon agrees. “I noticed that too.”

  “Reed,” Dad continues. “You’re a little clumsy in the fill on “Sunshine Girl.” Watch that. If that fill’s not tight the whole second half of the song falls slat.”

  Reed nods, eyes screwed up in concentration, like he’s playing through the section in his head.

  Then Dad turns to me. “Your harmonies haven’t been quite as tight this week—I know you’re battling a cold. If it feels like you’re straining in full voice, don’t be afraid to go into head tone.”

  “It has felt a little strained,” I agree.