The Ransome Brothers Page 8
What I hadn’t expected, somehow, was how angry they would be at our father. I had always felt like Dad was on my side throughout this mess. He helped me in every way he could, getting me into treatment more than once, keeping my secret like I had asked him to. My brothers saw it differently. Our dad had lied to them for years, keeping something huge from them. They were furious.
And all of that was before they even found out about our mom and the sheer avalanche of secrets our father had been keeping since she left.
Daltrey and Daisy’s house appears through a gap in the trees, and I don’t bother to hide my smile. Cash has a point—it is pretty funny to think of our little brother living on a goddamn farm in the middle of nowhere. Then again, it’s crazy to think of our little brother being old enough to have a house at all. Or a live-in girlfriend. Or, for that matter, a daughter.
Speaking of which…
“Oh, he totally planned this,” Cash mutters as I park. He’s glaring out the windshield at the front porch where the rest of the group has already gathered—and where Reed is holding baby Rose, a smug expression on his face. To say that Reed and Cash are competitive when it comes to the affections of our niece is like saying water is wet. It’s basically open warfare between the two at this point. I like to think I’m a little more mature about it. But I can afford to be—obviously the baby already prefers me.
“Took you long enough,” Daltrey calls as we climb out of the rental car.
“It’s not our fault you live in the land that time forgot,” Cash calls back. “Why don’t you move to a real city?”
“Quit dissing my house,” Daisy calls. “And get up here and give me a hug.”
We both comply, climbing the steps to greet our brothers and the girls, Cash insisting on hugging everyone.
“I just saw you,” Reed mutters, apparently not pleased by the bear hug our brother bestows. Or maybe he’s just annoyed that I pull Rose from his arms to make room for Cash.
“Did not,” Cash says.
“We were just in New York!”
“For about eight hours.”
“And you were in LA with Sam and Wyatt two weeks before that.”
“Well it obviously hasn’t been enough Cash time for you, since you look like absolute shit right now,” Cash shoots back, finally releasing Reed. “Have you been pining?”
“Who wouldn’t miss this,” Reed mutters, as Cash turns to hug Paige—a much more willing participant.
“She’s getting bigger,” I say, looking down at the baby in my arms. God, the kid looks like Daltrey. Same hair, same eyes. Her fingers even look similar, tiny as they are. “Maybe you’re going to be a piano player after all,” I murmur.
“Absolutely not,” Cash says, elbowing me and moving to take the baby from my arms. I turn my back on him, not willing to let Cash have his way. “She’s going to play guitar.”
“She’s ten weeks old,” Daisy points out.
“Doesn’t matter,” all four of us Ransome boys say in unison. I’m pretty sure I see the girls rolling their eyes.
Rose gives a little whimper. “What’s wrong with her?” Cash asks, reaching for her again. “Lennon, what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“Is she cold?” Reed asks. “It’s kind of cold out here.”
“Oh my God,” Daisy mutters. “The four of you are insane.” She gestures us towards the house. “Come on. There’s food and stuff out.”
Rose does not calm down once we’re inside, her whimpers turning to outright cries. Daisy decides it’s time to take her upstairs to nap, much to the disappointment of her uncles. “You know how nuts this is, right?” Karen asks. “There’s a table full of food and beer sitting right here and none of you have even noticed.”
“Baby crazy,” Paige agrees, grinning at Reed like he’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen.
Once the baby is upstairs, we do turn to the table of food—we are Ransomes, after all. Eating only comes second to music in our view. Daisy and Daltrey have put out a bunch of sandwiches and finger foods, chips and cookies and plenty of beer.
“God, I’m hungry,” Cash mutters, shoving half a sandwich into his mouth.
I watch him, feeling more than a little disgusted. “I really wish Sam could have come with you,” I say. “You’re not quite so animal-like around her.”
“How is Sam?” Paige asks and we all settle into easy conversation, catching up after a few weeks apart. I keep finding my gaze drawn back to Reed. He alone seems quiet, his face set and hard. Dreading this meeting, obviously.
“How much time do we have?” Cash asks Levi in an undertone, clearly wondering when Dad is going to show up.
“We have a while,” Daltrey interrupts, slipping his arm around Daisy as she comes back downstairs. “I told him not to come until four.”
“Why?” Cash asks. “I thought we wanted to get this over with?”
Daisy smiles over at Daltrey, which seems like a strange reaction to me. But he’s grinning back at her as she says, “we wanted to hang out, just us for a while.”
Paige looks at them, suspicious. “Why?”
“We have some news,” Daltrey says, his eyes still on Daisy. “You want to do this?”
Daisy shakes her head. “You do it.”
“One of you do it,” Paige cries. “I’m going crazy!”
Daltrey is still watching Daisy but his words are for the whole room. “We’re getting married.”
Paige let’s out a shriek loud enough to be heard halfway down the mountain. Daisy laughs, allowing herself to be pulled into a hug while Daltrey looks at us, a dopey, incredibly self-satisfied grin on his face.
“Congratulations,” Levi says, laughing, as he punches Daltrey on the shoulder.
“It’s about damn time,” Cash says, pulling Daltrey into a hug. Daltrey meets my gaze over our older brother’s shoulder and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh. Two hugs in one day—the new and improved Cash isn’t messing around.
Daisy finally manages to remove herself from Paige’s tight embrace. She hugs Karen then crosses the room to me, grinning. I shake my head at her. “Are you crazy? You really want to be stuck with this family?”
She laughs, flinging her arms around my neck. “That ship sailed a long time ago, buddy.”
I hug her back, tight. “You’ve always been my sister,” I say in her ear. “But I’m glad you’re making it official.”
She releases me, wiping at her eyes a little. “Oh, Lennon. You always were my favorite one.”
“Including your future husband?”
“Just don’t tell him.”
“Why are you making her cry?” Daltrey asks as Cash comes over to sweep Daisy up into a hug.
I slap my younger brother’s back. “I’d be crying too if I had to spend the rest of my life with you.” Dalt still has that dopey grin on his face and I laugh. “Seriously, man. Congrats.”
To my surprise, Daltrey pulls me into a quick hug, looking uncomfortable the whole time. But I’m touched all the same. Apparently Cash isn’t the only one trying to be more sensitive.
After Daltrey releases me, he turns, eyes scanning the room until they land on Reed. I follow his gaze, noting that our oldest brother seems to be the only one not celebrating. The smug smile tightens a little on Daltrey’s face. Come on Reed, I think. Please don’t be a dick.
“Anything to say?” Daltrey asks, his tone a little sharp. I’m pretty sure I see Paige step on Reed’s foot.
“Congratulations,” Reed says, finally moving over to Daltrey. “This is great news.”
He’s smiling, but I think there might be something false in his expression. Like he’s trying too hard. But he hugs both Daltrey and Daisy, offering them his congratulations, and I try to push the thought away. As I turn away from my older brother I freeze. Our dad is standing in the doorway, watching us.
“We should celebrate,” Cash is saying, oblivious to the new arrival. “Where’s the champagne?”
I feel the room around me go very still as everyone registers the voice. Cash turns to the door, his face immediately tightening. Daltrey, too, turns to look, the grin slipping off his face. Only Reed remains in place, his attention firmly on the door to the kitchen, his back to our father, hands moving into tight fists at his side.
Daisy finally breaks the awkward silence. “Hey, Will,” she says, her voice a touch too bright to be believable. “It’s good to see you.”
She takes Daltrey’s hand, and he grimaces, making me think she must have squeezed it, hard. Daltrey sighs and faces our father. “Daisy and I were just telling everyone that we’re engaged.”
I watch as Dad’s face hardens, his lips slamming together in a tight line. The silence seems to stretch on and on, obvious, awkward, until finally he gives himself a little shake and moves into the living room. His smile is fixed as he says, “that’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”
“Yeah,” Daltrey mutters. “You sure look happy.”
Dad flinches but continues walking until he reaches his youngest son. He holds out a hand. “Congratulations.”
For a moment I think Daltrey isn’t going to respond. Finally he takes Dad’s hand, shaking it. Behind his shoulder, Cash is glaring at Dad, his expression even angrier than it had been when he arrived. They don’t get it, I think. My brothers just see that Dad doesn’t look happy and assume he’s being an ass. They don’t understand how hurt he is.
But I can see it, the pain written all over his face. Because Daltrey told the rest of the family before he got there. Because it’s obvious that Daltrey wasn’t planning on including him in the happy news.
“You’re early,” Cash says, his tone harsh.
Again Dad flinches, barely noticeable this time, but his voice is even when he speaks. “It didn’t take as long to get here as I thought.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Paige approach Reed, reaching for his hand. He shakes her off. He still hasn’t turned to face the rest of the room.
“Not surprising,” Cash says. “You’ve been here, what? Twice?”
“Cash,” Dad says, sounding tired.
“Let’s just get this over with.” Cash collapses into the nearest chair. “What’s going on?”
Dad’s eyes flick to Paige and Karen, and then Daisy, and now I’m getting annoyed, too. Dad always had a hard time letting other people into our circle—but does he have to make it so obvious? On the day Daisy and Daltrey announced their engagement?
“We’ll go upstairs,” Daisy says, squeezing Daltrey’s hand. “So you guys can have your meeting.”
“It won’t be long,” Daltrey says, his voice hard as he looks at our father.
As the girls leave the room, I go over to Reed’s side. “Come on,” I say in an undertone. “Cash is right, let’s just get it over with.” Reed’s entire body is tense, his hands still balled into fists. “Reed.”
“Fine,” he mutters, turning to the group. He keeps his head down, refusing to look at our father but Dad’s eyes follow him as he sinks into the farthest chair in the room. There’s something in Dad’s expression that I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before. Regret and pain mixed with something else. Something that looks a lot like longing.
“What’s this about?” Daltrey asks.
Dad tears his eyes away from Reed and takes a deep breath. “We have a problem with the label.”
“What kind of problem?” Cash asks.
Dad meets Levi’s eyes. “We’re in breach of contract.”
There’s a swooping in my stomach as Dad’s words register. I have a pretty good idea what this is about…
“What?” Daltrey asks, sounding bewildered. “What did we do?”
Dad’s eyes flick in my direction, just briefly, and the swooping in my stomach gets worse. It’s feeling a lot like guilt now. “We were under contract for a world tour.”
“So?” Cash asks. “Tour plans change all the time.”
“Yes,” Dad agrees. “But we haven’t just changed the plans. We haven’t done anything. We haven’t talked to them, haven’t made other arrangements. Haven’t been willing to set up a schedule. Or even tell them when we might be ready to set up a schedule.”
“From their perspective,” Levi says. “It’s just been radio silence.”
Dad clears his throat. “They’ve been…they’ve been asking me for something concrete, something about what we might do next and…”
“And you haven’t been able to tell them,” I say. “Because we have no plans to do anything next.”
Dad sighs. “Yes.”
Cash’s forehead is wrinkled in concern as he looks from Dad to Levi. “Is this a big deal? Can’t we just tell them we need time off?”
“We have been telling them that,” Levi says. “They feel like they’ve given enough leeway.”
“So, what?” Daltrey asks, sounding angry now. “They expect us to just drop everything and go on tour because they’re mad? We have a lot going on right now. You think I’m going to leave Daisy? Or am I supposed to take a ten-week-old on a bus for months?”
“I’m not asking you to do that,” Dad says, holding up a hand.
“If we could just give them a concrete timeline,” Levi says, rubbing his forehead, “they might back off.”
“Might?” Cash snaps.
“Look—” Dad begins, but Reed interrupts him, speaking for the first time since Dad arrived.
“How long have you known they were pissed?” he asks, his voice low. He’s finally looking at our father. I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t like the look on Reed’s face. Furious doesn’t begin to cover it.
“Since Europe.”
Reed snorts. “And you didn’t feel like sharing this information with us?”
“I didn’t think it was something—”
“Oh, I get it,” Reed says, his voice as nasty and bitter as I’ve ever heard it. “Once again you decided what information we were capable of handling.”
“Reed.” Dad sounds exhausted.
“No,” Reed says, laughing a little as he shakes his head. “This is perfect, actually. Just perfect. First you lie to us about Lennon and he almost dies—”
“Reed,” I try to interject, but my older brother plows on, his voice rising in anger.
“And then you lie to us about Mom leaving, so we all feel completely fucked up about our childhood. And now you lie to us about our band so we end up in breach of contract. That’s just great. Really great.”
“What was I supposed to do?” Dad asks, his voice sharp. “You all said you needed time. I wanted you to have it. Would you have rather I unloaded this all on you in Europe?”
“It’s our band, Dad,” Daltrey says. “If you would have told us it was such a problem to cancel, maybe we would have made a different choice.”
Again Dad’s eyes flick in my direction. This time the rest of them notice. Cash, mouth open to complain, snaps his jaw shut.
“You thought I would feel guilty,” I say, voice flat. God, I’m tired of this. Tired of being the reason they’re all tense, on edge. Of them twisting themselves up to make plans around me and my stupid problems.
“It wasn’t just you,” Dad says firmly. “Daltrey needed this time too. Of course he needed to be here with Rose and Daisy.”
“None of us wanted to go back on the road,” Cash tells me. “Dad is right, Len. This isn’t on you.”
“Yeah,” Reed says in that same bitter voice. “It’s on him.” He’s glaring at Dad with so much rage in his expression that I feel scared for a second. “None of us wanted to have anything to do with the band,” he continues. “And that’s on him. That’s because of him.”
“Look,” Levi begins. “The important thing right now—”
“And what about you?” Reed says, turning his anger on our friend. “When you came to my house in LA, you said you didn’t know what this was about.”
“I didn’t.”
Reed makes a scathing noise. “Yeah, right. You’ve clearly been talking to him behind our back.”
“God, Reed,” Levi snaps. “Stop being so paranoid. Will called me earlier this week to fill me in.”
“Because he wanted you on his side,” Reed shoots back. “For whatever stupid thing he has planned now.”
We all turn back to Dad. His eyes are on his feet and I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen him look so tired. “I don’t have anything planned,” he says quietly. “We have some options, that’s all.”
“What options?” Cash asks.
Dad looks over to Levi, who clears his throat. “We could sit down and come up with a timeline for a tour,” Levi says. “That’s option one. We think they’ll back off so long as they have something definitive we can point at to show our intention is to get back on the road.”
“Maybe,” Cash says thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “But I doubt they’re going to be satisfied unless that timeline starts pretty damn soon.”
Levi nods. “I think they’ll want something to happen this year, early next year at the latest.”
I close my eyes. This year. I suppose it could be worse. That still gives us some time. So why do I already feel so tired?
“You said options,” Daltrey says. “Plural. So what else could we do?”
Dad and Levi share another look. “There’s been some talk about a residency,” Dad finally says, and Cash’s head shoots up.
“What? Like, they want us to go to Vegas?”
“No way,” Daltrey says. “We are not a fucking casino act. Jesus, Dad. What are you even thinking?”
Dad holds up his hands. “That was my reaction too. But I have been assured they aren’t thinking anything like a Vegas lounge act.”
“We could do it in LA,” Levi says. “Or New York. Set up somewhere for a long run of concerts—”
“How long?” Cash asks.
Levi shrugs. “Twenty or thirty shows.”
“Thirty shows in the same venue?” Cash asks, his voice skeptical.
“Springsteen is doing it,” I say and my father sends me a grateful look. “He’s been in New York for a few months, hasn’t he?”