10. Life is a bitch
CHAPTER 10
Life is a bitch
Life is a bitch. Tell me why this new guy we have welcomed into our lives adores Calum Dissick. The one man I want to forget. He also plays the guitar, another punishment.
Amelia smiles as Jason strums his guitar to serenade Mace. I clear my throat, and she looks away, but I don’t miss the pink coating her cheeks. She’s a goner. It’s amusing and annoying.
Amusing because it’s a first for her, for us. Amelia has never dated. It’s annoying because now her attention is divided to create time for him. Mace whines while rocking on his knees and hands. He might begin crawling soon. I pry the toy from his hand and lower him to my lap, but he expresses his desire to be on the floor by making gurgling sounds. Jason laughs. He’s so annoying. Not really. But whatever. He drops his guitar on the floor to carry Mace.
“They look so cute together,” Amelia says.
She’s annoying, too. She invited Jason over.
I point to the kitchen. “I’ll go get a drink.” Already on my feet, I rush out before any of them notice. Amelia calls out my name, but I don’t pause until I’ve filled a glass with water and gulped it at once. Joining me in the kitchen, she leans a shoulder on the tall fridge. “What?”
“You’re acting weird,” she says.
“How weird?”
Putting the glass under the tap, I fill it again. This time, I don’t drink, but my fingertips circle the rim. Amelia draws close. Our shoulders touch. I look up to the window showing our blurry reflections. She’s staring at me. Watching and waiting.
“You don’t want him here?” she whispers.
“Who says?” I reply.
Amelia’s fingers appear in front of me. She grabs the glass from me and takes a small sip.
“I won’t invite him anymore,” she says.
My head whips to her. “What? No. He’s good people.”
“Not good enough if you don’t like him.”
We have known Jason for about three months. Well, Amelia has done most of the knowing because I skip to my room each time he visits. The only time I had to show up was to warn him to stay away from her if he wasn’t interested in anything serious or steady with her. I drag a finger across the wet surface of the sink. A sigh builds in my belly, and I push it down.
“Our dynamics have changed,” I tell her.
To avoid Amelia’s gaze, I move to the other side of the kitchen, opening and closing drawers without removing anything. She opens the fridge to pull out a plate of biscuits. Removing the foil covering, she inserts a piece into her mouth. Why isn’t she saying anything?
“It’s not just you, me, and Mace anymore. It’s me, you, Mace, and him. I don’t know.”
“Not everyone is like him, Cathie.”
“I know.”
Amelia offers me the biscuits and reopens the fridge to grab a carton of juice. We stand in the middle of the family-sized kitchen, eyeing each other without saying what needs to be said.
“He’s good people,” Amelia whispers. Her eyes lower, and the juice in her hand quivers. This side of her is new. She is always the fierce one, the super-active woman. The one who never needed a man. “I think I like him. But it’s our house. I need to put your feelings into consideration.”
Painful laughter tunnels out of my throat. Okay, Amelia Greene. I nudge her with my elbow. “If he talks about Mr Dissick one more time, we are kicking him out of our house,” I mutter.
She won’t mention his name, but I know she listens to his songs and has all his albums. The hidden, folded posters in my room are from her stash. I wonder if she knows they are missing. That evil man has a way with his songs and lyrics, and with his band, it’s so perfect you want to listen to it all the time. Not me, anyway. Most times, I hate his voice. I hate the posters, too.
I loop my arm through hers and we return to the living room in silent understanding. Jason looks up as we approach him. Amelia plops onto the same couch he’s seated on. I dump the plate of biscuits on a stool, drag it towards the duo, and scoop Mace into my arms. He looks up at me, his blues widening in curiosity. I think Amelia Greene is in love, Macey. Why?
“So, I figured out the sounds Mace likes,” Jason says. If he thinks Mace needs another man in his life, he is wrong. He has Dad. Amelia motions for him to talk, and I muster a fake smile. “When you two were out there doing your thing, we were here doing ours. Right, Mace?”
Mace giggles. I sit him up on my lap so he has a view of the people talking. Jason picks up his guitar and tucks the head under his armpit. With his free hand, he grabs his phone.
“Watch this,” Jason says.
Jason hits a chord. Head bent over his guitar while doing his thing, he reminds me of Papa Mace. I shove the memories and try to live in the present. Only that I’m not sure what Jason is doing. He taps on his phone, and a familiar sound filters into the air. My spine solidifies.
“Watch,” he whispers. He nods at Mace, and I look down to catch him yawning. “See that?”
Amelia averts her gaze. I swallow past the lump in my throat and nod. “Yes, I see it.”
Jason changes the keys, switches the song, and, as if a light is flipped, Mace bobs on my lap. Spit drips down his lips. I hate that it takes his father’s voice to get these reactions out of him. I should have checked my wallet before leaving the house. This would never have happened.
“Anyway, I created a playlist for him,” Jason continues like he hasn’t done enough damage. Mace’s dad created one for me, then broke my heart after. “Calum Dissick is the goat. The whole band is, but I prefer the songs where he takes the lead. Mace does, too. So the playlist is a variety.”
Amelia stylishly places a hand on Jason’s knee to shut him up. But he misses the hint and takes her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles. She sends me a sheepish look of apology. I lied. We can’t send him out if he mentions Calum Dissick because she more than likes him.
“Um, thanks,” I finally manage to say.
“No worries, Mama Mace.” Touching Mace’s nose, he says, “Mace has great taste in music.”
“Don’t call me that. Mama Mace,” I add. Tension cuts through the air. I stare down at Mace, who is oblivious to what’s happening. He is a happy child. “It’s reserved for only Amelia.”
“Sorry.”
The silence worsens. Jason takes a biscuit from the plate, then drops it. I should speak, but I don’t know what to say. Amelia curls a strand of hair around her finger. I can’t tell if she’s upset.
“I should get going,” Jason says.
My eyes fly to the clock. He has only been here for fifteen minutes. He always stays longer than that.
Amelia slowly stands. “I’ll walk you,” she volunteers.
“Me too,” I mutter. They turn to me. “I can stay back if you both mind.”
“It’s fine,” Jason replies.
A ghost of a smile crosses Amelia’s face, and she nods at the untouched snacks. “I’ll get something for this. Just give me a minute.”
She leaves but stops a foot behind Jason to send me a disapproving scowl. I tuck Mace’s head on my shoulder so he can fall asleep faster. Jason doesn’t talk. It’s unlike him to be so quiet.
Left with no option, I say, “Sooo… Calum Dissick, huh? You love listening to him?”
Jason taps his hips. “Why do I feel like this is a trap question?” My eyes narrow, and he barks out a laugh. “Yes, I do. A lot. He’s good at what he does. Mending Hearts is a great band.”
“I see.”
“Wrong answer?” he asks.
“No,” I say. I wait a minute before speaking. He was only being helpful earlier. My heart pumps faster, and my confidence fades. I stare at my feet. When I told him to take care of Amelia, she hadn’t fallen this hard. “You have to take care of her, be nice and all that to her.”
It takes Jason half a second to realise I’m talking about Amelia. And his cheeks grow warm. He rubs his hands over his hips. He might have been telling the truth when he said he only wanted to be friends with me, but Amelia is a different story entirely. She really likes him.
“We are not dating,” he says.
“Uh-huh,” I say.
My mind floods with memories of us. Me and Calum. The lies. The pretence in front of the girls before my confession. It feels like it with them. I won’t be upset if they are together. Okay, I will be, but I’m Mama Mace now, so I’ll hide it properly. We really don’t need men.
“Amelia and I are just friends,” he offers a minute later. “She doesn’t like me like that.”
“That’s what she said, or what you think?”
“You wouldn’t mind?” he asks. My brows furrow. Why should it matter? He looks over his shoulder. I peek to see if Amelia is somewhere lurking, but there’s no sign of her. “She thinks so highly of you. And your opinions matter a lot to her. To me, as well, but more to her.”
“Are you asking for my blessings?” I ask. He says nothing. “What if you break her heart?”
“I won’t.”
“Cross your heart,” I mutter. He laughs but makes the crisscross sign across his chest. I know that wouldn’t matter. A heartbreaker is a heartbreaker, but that calms me. I sigh again, words heavy in my chest. “Mace will be seven-month-old next week. We usually fool around and eat cake on his birthday. You can come if you like cake and can dance. Amelia will like that.”
Jason lifts a brow. I almost crawl out of the room. I never invite outsiders to Mace’s birthday. But if Amelia likes him, he will be family soon. I can’t deny her this. Speaking of her, she enters the living room with her phone pressed to her ear and a bag dangling in her free hand.
“Sorry for keeping you two waiting. I had to take that call.” Their arms brush as she nears us. Jason pulls back at the same time she does and time is frozen for a second where all they do is grin at each other. Yeah, right, she doesn’t like him like that. I sway with Mace snoring softly in my arms. I need to leave. I also need to let Amelia know it’s okay to date. “All set?”
Her voice cuts through my thoughts. Jason accepts the bag from her, and they have another split second of smiling at each other. Maybe I need my own man. I clear my throat, and they turn, their cheeks pink.
“I’ll be upstairs,” I tell him. “Thanks for stopping by.”
Without waiting for him to reply, I race upstairs.