Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Brodie took his brothers to a bar up the beach from his house that played reggae music and served cold beer. They sat at a round table, the sun streaking in lines across them through a wooden-slatted awning, the ocean behind them, almost turquoise in the late-afternoon sunlight.
Brodie traced his thumb down the condensation on his glass.
“I think Ren’s right,” he said, looking up to meet both pairs of enquiring eyes.
“I’m just running. I don’t know who I am anymore.
Who I want to be.” He sat up and stretched his arms above his head, let them flop in his lap.
He’d stopped off at his house long enough to have a shower and change, now he sat in dry board-shorts and a T-shirt.
“I feel like my best version of me was in the band. When I was up on stage. Everything since then, well—” he shrugged, hated to admit it “—it’s nothing. ”
Neither Logan nor Noah said anything, just waited. No one bothered trying to deny it.
Brodie drank his beer, glanced away from them out to the water, wished for a second that he was still back out there on his board.
He hung his head for a moment, then turned back to the table.
“When I go back to the ranch, it makes me feel like I’m nothing.
Like no time has passed. I’m back to being that kid who doesn’t know what he wants to do.
” He paused, watched the bubbles in his drink rising to the surface.
“I just remember liking writing songs and knowing there was no real place for that there.”
Logan leaned forward, rested his chin on his knuckles as he listened.
“I guess it’s kinda terrifying to wonder what my life is if it’s not that. If it’s not the band, if it’s not making music.” Brodie lifted his drink half-heartedly. “I guess maybe I don’t want to know.”
Noah batted a wasp out the way of his glass. “Okay, so let’s say you could have anything, what is it that you want?”
Brodie thought for a moment. To his surprise, the first picture that flashed into his mind, was of Maeve and Zoey at the cabin. He saw Zoey bringing him cereal and Maeve doing her yoga upstairs. But he wasn’t going to say that to his brothers.
What did he want?
“For Ethan to come back,” he said, without really thinking about it, just saying what came to mind after Maeve and Zoey. “To write songs together again.”
“Really? Are you sure about that?” Logan reclined back, narrowed his eyes at him as if he were in a boardroom. “Brodie, you can look back on it rose-tinted and all, but you’d had enough by the time your solo career ended.”
“Yeah, I’d had enough solo.” Brodie heard the defensive edge to his voice. “Not in the band.”
Noah almost choked on his beer. “Don’t go getting any ideas about reforming the band.”
Brodie thought he would reform in a heartbeat.
Logan, however, scratched his head. “You ever think that it’s not the fame or the band, that it was the music?
It was having people listen to what you wrote, to what you could sing?
” He reached forward for his drink, took a sip, then added, “All the other stuff, Brodie, that’s just fame.
None of that’s real. There’s nothing to say you can’t form another band, you can’t write more songs—you don’t even need Ethan to do that—but maybe it doesn’t have to be quite so huge. ”
“But then what is it, if it’s not huge?” Brodie asked, uncertain by the prospect. “If it’s not like the success of Silver Sky, then wouldn’t it just feel like failure?”
“Or a real good time?” Noah suggested. He’d never been a fan of the trappings of fame.
“Or it would be a success,” Logan chimed in.
“Just a different kind of success. It depends how you look at it, Brodie. Would you say Silver Sky was a success? Sure, we made a lot of money, but it didn’t do us any good as a family, as brothers.
There were times when we became people who I don’t think any of us would want to be again.
” He let the comment linger for a moment, before adding, “I mean, I like you, Brodie, but you could be a pain in the butt when you were famous.”
That made Noah laugh.
Logan softened it, adding, “But then I think we all could.”
Brodie nodded slowly, only half listening, his mind had wandered off on a tangent as he considered what it might be like to pick up a pen again.
To do something small but committed. Not the odd guest appearance with the Autumn Falls band, but something proper, that meant something.
Something that gave him reason to write something.
Something with purpose. That word made him imagine his dad saying, I told you so.
But then he imagined writing songs for Zoey.
Maybe about being a dad. About Maeve. He thought of Maeve rolling her eyes at his love songs—they’d have to be darn good to impress her.
He felt a tingle of excitement over his skin at the prospect.
“It would be nice to be a writer again, and be a little more in control,” he mused.
Noah raised both brows and nodded as if that was a given.
“Do stuff I’m proud of rather than—” He thought back to some of the dismal records he’d put out nearing the end of his solo career, bad decisions made by both him and his manager.
But then, without the fame and the success, would there ever be the same rush, the same impetus to continue?
And like Logan said, did he even want that?
“I don’t know. I’m older now. Maybe I need to do something different. ”
“Maybe,” Logan agreed. “I know you don’t like to have to sit and think too much about things, Brodie, but you don’t have to decide everything right this second.
” He laughed fondly, like a big brother.
Then he leaned forward, forearms crossed on the table, and looked at him more seriously as he said, “You got a kid now. You got something worth staying for. You’ve got a reason to stop running right there in front of your face. ”
Brodie felt a bolt of trepidation shoot through him and he almost flinched. But then came something else, something gentler yet also more powerful, that it dawned on him was longing. Maybe even nerve-shredding, stomach-clenching love.
“You got an orchard of trees to buy,” Noah added over the rim of his glass. “May they rest in peace.”
Brodie snorted into his beer.
Logan stifled a laugh. Then he raised his hand to order another round of drinks.
Out on the ocean, the sun glittered on the gentle waves, winking and sparkling like diamonds. People were taking afternoon strolls, coming down to the beach after work to catch the late sun, stretching out on loungers.
Noah looked around and said, “Don’t you get bored here?”
Brodie turned to take in the view, then back to his brother. “It’s pretty easy doing nothing.”
Noah rolled his eyes, incredulous at the idea.
Fresh drinks arrived. Brodie looked back out at the rolling ocean, the line of the horizon, the bathers stretched out on the golden sand, then he took a deep breath and said, “What if I can’t hack it? What if I leave?”
“I’ll come and drag you back,” Logan replied without hesitation.
Noah smiled as he drank his beer. “You won’t leave.”
“How d’you know?” Brodie asked, sitting back, folding his arms.
Noah put his glass down on the table. “Because I trust you. And every time anyone’s really needed you, Brodie, and I mean really needed you, you’ve been there.
For Logan, after Jack died—” Noah glanced at Logan who nodded in agreement.
“For me, all the time in the band. You’re more of a support than you give yourself credit for.
And I truly don’t think you’d walk away from what you believe is right.
You left a number-one solo career because it wasn’t right for you anymore, not because you couldn’t be bothered.
Maybe you’re here because you needed some space, but I get the feeling you would have come back on your own. ”
Brodie listened as Noah spoke. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I think you’re right.” Then he smiled, leaned forward and bashed Noah on the arm. “Thanks, man,” he said, grinning. “That means … well, something.”
Logan laughed. “I thought my plan was better.”
Someone came over to the table, a woman in her thirties with her phone. “Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt, but do you think I could take a picture?”
Logan shook his head. “I’m sorry, we’re actually—”
But Brodie jumped up out his seat and said, “Sure!” He went round to stand between where his brothers were sitting, threw his arms around them and said, “Smile, everyone.”
Noah’s was more of a grimace.
The woman giggled with excitement. “Thanks so much!” she gushed. Then Brodie posed for another shot with just her and her cheeks flushed red as she thanked him again.
“You’re welcome, anytime,” he replied, and went and sat back down.
Logan raised a brow.
Brodie shrugged. “It’s done and there’s no bad feeling. Didn’t kill ya, did it?”
Noah muttered, “I have a bad feeling.”
Brodie barked a laugh. “You just said you wanted to be more like me.”
Noah almost reared back. “I never said—”
But Brodie cut him off. “It’s okay, Noah, everyone wants to be a bit more Brodie.”
“You’re so annoying.” Noah shook his head.
Brodie just grinned.