Chapter 3
CHAPTER 3
JACKSON
“Okay, so, I have to hold the neck ?” I ask.
Colleen grins as she helps my awkward hands better cradle the baby. “There you go. Just like that.”
I’ve got Danny, but I wouldn’t be able to tell if it weren’t for the color-coded onesie. This baby is just bigger than my outstretched hand, but I’ve got big hands, so maybe this is normal. His scrunched face goes from suspicion to shock as he writhes and coos.
“Am I doing it right?” I’m so worried I’ll hurt him, I can barely relax into Best Uncle Ever mode. I suppose there’s plenty of time—this is only the first ten minutes of meeting the Bacon bits—but I’m eager to prove myself as the superior uncle of the family.
“You’re doing great,” Colleen reassures me as she lightly bounces the other twin, Cassie, in her arms. Bacon comes back up the stairs into the loft with a big pack of diapers. These four are living in the converted loft of an old church. Bacon’s new hit restaurant takes up the renovated first floor. It’s so strange, yet oddly perfect for my big sister.
“Poop guards, obtained,” Bacon says, setting the diapers on a nearby table. He holds out his hands to take Cassie from Colleen. I watch as she gently hands her over.
“I can’t believe you have two of these,” I murmur.
“Tell me about it,” she says with a laugh. She sits on the couch next to me as I rock Danny. “So what’s new, Jackie?”
“Besides being an uncle to these perfect creatures? Nothing much.”
She smiles warmly, and I can see the tiredness radiating from her. “I’m glad you came to visit. I’m surprised you made it happen so quickly.”
“I’ve been enjoying some downtime.” I don’t mention that part of the downtime is because I’m nearing the end of my contractual obligation to the record label, a moment I’ve been desperate for since I realized how deep in shit I’d gotten myself. After four complete albums—and a fifth one slated to be written in just a couple months’ time—I can almost consider myself free.
“Creating liquor deals, touring the world, writing albums…all of that fits into your concept of downtime?” She sends me an amused look.
“When you say it like that, it sounds insane,” I admit. “But once I go back to LA next week, I’ll be back in the thick of all of that. So Fork Lick is my vacation.”
“Ironic how the tables have turned,” Colleen murmurs. “We used to dream of vacationing anywhere else . Now Fork Lick has become your vacation spot.”
Danny begins to fuss in my hands, so I rock him like I see Bacon doing with Cassie across the room. When he begins a full-out wail, I turn to Colleen.
“Help.”
“He’s hungry,” she says. “I’ll take it from here.”
I relax into the couch as she takes the baby from my arms and pulls back part of her t-shirt and begins feeding him. She murmurs sweet nothings to him as he eats, and once he’s calm, she sinks back into the couch, turning her attention back to me.
“So only a week in Fork Lick, huh?”
“That’s all I have planned.”
“Got any time to swing back around in June?” she asks hopefully. “I was hoping you’d be able to attend the festival we’re planning with Bella.”
The sound of her name makes something dark settle over me. “Two Fork Lick visits in one calendar year? Colleen, you know me better than that.”
She frowns, and I want to retract my statement. But I don’t. Instead, I ask, “What’s the big deal with this festival? Gran and Bella mentioned it yesterday, but I didn’t get all the details.”
“We thought it would be the perfect way to raise the last bit of money the farm needs to get out of debt,” Colleen says with an effortless smile. “Especially with Bella at the helm, I think we can make it big enough to generate some serious revenue. The plan was to collaborate with everyone’s goods and services to create something so big and attractive that people from all over the state—and maybe even out of state—want to come. Everything we produce will be for sale—Alex’s strawberry milk, his new goat cheese, Diane’s apple butter. If a Bedd made it, we’re selling it.”
“It sounds very…communal,” I tell her.
“It’ll be bigger than communal,” Bacon pipes up. “Bella’s got the magic touch. You know her from out west—you’ve seen her in action, haven’t you?”
I sigh. “Yeah, I guess.”
Colleen laughs, swatting my arm. “What’s that sigh for?”
I’m not sure how to summarize our friction in a way that makes sense. I was starry-eyed for Bella the second I met her three years ago. But then life—or maybe my own ego—got in the way. What I thought was mutual interest turned into a lot of shitty encounters, until finally it all exploded when I found out she’d been engaged to some other guy the entire time. From then on, we were just barely able to tolerate each other. But I don’t like my family to hear stories where I finish anyplace but first.
“We’ve just never really gotten along,” I say, reaching out to stroke Danny’s tiny forehead as he chugs the boob juice. “I guess we just fundamentally clash.”
Colleen doesn’t look convinced. “That’s a shame. She’s so good at event planning, I thought maybe you two would have a future collaborating together or something.”
“How about you let me know what I can do to help the festival?” I feel like I should be involved somehow, since every Bedd is bringing their talents to the event. “Won’t you be needing some music or something?”
The way Colleen’s eyes light up tell me I hit the jackpot. “Are you serious?”
“Maybe. I can try to work it out.”
She gasps, and then bites back a squeal. “Oh, Jackson. That would be incredible! We all thought it would be pointless to ask you, because?—”
“Pointless?” My stomach executes a painful twist, the same feeling I get whenever my brothers are around.
“We figured you’d be too busy to help. I mean, you yourself just said you can only stay for a week, then it’s back to the mayhem. Truthfully, we don’t have any entertainment lined up yet, but we didn’t figure you’d be interested in doing something as small as a festival in Fork Lick.”
“Who is we ?” I ask.
“The family,” she says, suddenly looking sheepish. “And Bella weighed in too?—”
“Oh, did she now?”
“She said you’d be too expensive to book as a headliner, and that standard procedure for labels like yours requires certain protocol to be followed.”
Something dark twists through me, and I clench my fist a few times, working through the onslaught of emotion. I’m not sure why I’m surprised, but yet again, I’ve been pushed away from the family before I can even be a part of things. Like always.
Not only that, Bella’s here inserting herself into my family’s discussions. Reinforcing everyone’s negative opinions of me. Frustration simmers hot, and I struggle to swallow the feelings before they explode. Now is not the time, or the place, to figure that mess out. This visit is about the bacon bits. I draw a deep breath, focusing on little Danny in Colleen’s arms.
“I’ll figure it out with my label,” I finally say. “I should be able to make an appearance. I’ll work on clearing the date.” I rub Colleen’s back, the thrum of frustration still vibrating through me. “I want to do my part to help the farm.”
Colleen wriggles in her seat, another squeal erupting. “This is the best news ever!” Danny jerks in her arms, startled. She gasps, shushing the baby when he starts to gurgle and cry. “Sorry. Sorry. Mommy was just excited,” she whispers soothingly.
Colleen turns to me once the baby is calmed. “So will you be here for Sunday dinner?”
I’d planned on leaving that night. “You think anyone will want me there? Other than Baabara.”
“Of course! You’re family. Ethan and Alex love you, even if they don’t know how to show it.”
I don’t believe her, but I nod. “Yeah. I can make it work. Been a long time since we had Sunday dinners, huh?”
Colleen beams. “The tradition is back. They’ve been so lovely. It’ll be good to have everyone at the table for once. I know how busy you are. It means a lot to us that you take time from your exciting life in LA to be here.”
Her words, however sweet and supportive, weigh heavily on me as she finishes feeding Danny. Colleen’s assessment couldn’t be farther from the truth. There’s nothing exciting about my life in LA—it’s just a drain.
My label rents my swanky apartment for me. The car I drive in California is gifted, not chosen by me. My designer duds are loaned. What meager percentage I earn from my label gets gobbled up by trying to keep up appearances.
I’m America’s most famous rock star, but I barely have ten grand to my name.
“I might not come around a lot, but you guys are family. Of course I’ll be there.”
“I can’t believe we got Single Grain to headline the concert,” Colleen gushes. “The other teachers at school are gonna flip when I tell them!”
Another rock in my gut reminds me of how unlikely it is that my backup band can accompany me for this appearance. I can’t bring myself to tell her about the technicalities of my deal with the label, because admitting one aspect only leads to the other hundred aspects that reveal what an idiot failure I truly am.
“I’ll make something work,” I finally say.
Because I have to. For my family. For Gran. For our collective future.
I’m not going to break this promise to Colleen. Which means I need to talk to my agent ASAP and figure out a loophole that satisfies everyone.