“I love my brother,” Martha shouted.
“You shut your god damn mouth!” Tears poured down my face. I was beyond caring, really. Beyond everything. I rested my hand on my belly, feeling that strange stirring sensation within again. Bean apparently didn’t care for shouting. I lowered my voice accordingly. “I will deal with you when I am good and ready.”
Martha shut it, face still stunned.
“I was never trying to change you,” I said, finding my last ounce of bravery and staring Ben in the face. “I just wanted some of your time, your attention. I wanted to be a part of what you love.”
Dark eyes gave me nothing but grief.
“You’ve got another six or so weeks on tour. I don’t want to hear from you during that time,” I said, turning away. “I’ll make sure any medical updates are forwarded to you. Otherwise … I just … I need a break. From all of this.”
“You’re going back to Portland?” he asked, obviously unhappy. His man-feelings had been hurt. Too bad.
“Yes.”
As expected, Anne opened her mouth, rising to her feet. She’d have my back, of course she would. But I halted her with a hand. “Later.”
She nodded.
I turned toward Martha, tamping down the need to beat her with the nearest solid object. “I don’t have much family, and sadly, your brother seems all too willing to tolerate your borderline personality disorder. But you will never treat my child in a way that is anything less than loving and supportive. Is that understood?”
Numbly, she nodded.
“Good.”
Anne took my hand. Solidarity among sisters, etcetera, and thank god for it. I really needed her right then. Together, with Mal behind us, we left.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you sure?” my sister asked, not for the first time. Not even for the hundredth, for that matter.
“I’m sure.”
“I don’t like you being sure.”
“I get that.” I sat on the bed in her suite’s spare bedroom, watching as she meticulously packed my case. My underwear had basically been alphabetized. “And I love you for it.”
She sighed, refolding one of my maternity tops for the third time. “I love you too. I’m just sorry it ended this way. He seemed so into you. I really thought he’d get his act together.”
“I guess some people are just wandering souls. They really are better off alone. They need their freedom more than they need love and companionship. Better to find out now than to keep persevering at a relationship that’s ultimately doomed because he’s unable to trust and commit.” I gave her the same brave, what-can-you-do smile I’d been wearing for the last twenty-four hours. My cheeks hurt. Much more and I’d have to ice my face.
“You’re so full of shit,” she sighed.
I smiled some more.
“Stop trying to appear so cool about it. I know full well the asshole has ripped your beating heart right out of your chest and stomped all over it with his huge black boots.”
“Nice visual.”
“I hate him. Next time we have a band dinner, I’m stabbing him with a fork.”
“You are not stabbing him with a fork,” I said, patting her hand. “You’re going to be perfectly polite and carry on with business as usual.”
Eyes narrowed, she gave me a stubborn look.
“For Mal’s sake,” I said. “I’ll go home and get the nursery sorted. It’ll be fine, Anne. Really.”
“Let me come with you.”
“No.” I shook my head determinedly. “Absolutely not. You’ve never been to Europe. You’ve been looking forward to this trip for months. It’s only six weeks. I’ll manage. Besides, honestly, I need the space right now.”
Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “You promise you’ll call me if you need me.”
I held up my hand. “I solemnly swear.”
“Hmm.”
“Killer and I are just going to hang out, take it easy.”
“He’s definitely going to be relieved to get out of the pet hotel. That’s one silver lining at least. The last few times I’ve called, he’s flat-out refused to speak to me.”
“He’s a dog, Anne. He can’t talk.”
More frowning. “But he used to make these little yipping noises and bark at me. You know what I mean. I’m worried this has given him abandonment issues. He’s a very sensitive animal. He’s like Mal, deep down, in a way.”
“He’s a lunatic who chases his own tail until he falls over,” I said. “Actually, he kind of is like Mal, you’re right.”
“True.” Anne nodded with a thoughtful look.
“Well, I promise to apply all of my psychology skills to resolving his issues before you return.” In my experience, Killer’s happiness could be bought with a pack of Canadian bacon and the destruction of one of Mal’s Converse. I’d already stolen a reasonably new-looking shoe out of Mal’s closet for just this purpose. The dog would be back to his usual tail-wagging, gleeful, psycho self in no time.
My own abandonment issues might take a little longer to resolve.
Tomorrow, Stage Dive moved on to Montreal, then Europe. Slightly sooner, in secret, I’d return to Oregon. Everyone was going to the concert tonight for the first performance of yet another song. I guess it was a new tradition to have everyone there. Nice. Seemed David was in fine writing form these days—touring agreed with him. While they were gone, I’d make my sneaky exit. Anne didn’t know, she thought I was leaving in the morning. But she’d understand. There’d been enough drama. A big emotional good-bye wouldn’t help anyone. Certainly not me. Staying in the same city as Ben, even for the last twenty-four hours, was grating on me. I ached to have his whole world behind me. I wasn’t being naive and pretending my grief wouldn’t be boarding that plane right along with me. It was more a feeling that I couldn’t even begin to move on until I could see this city recede into nothing through the little airline window. It would be all the closure I’d get.
Besides, the town of Seaside on the Oregon coast was beautiful this time of year. It also wouldn’t be where the press would expect me to turn up. I’d drive out there in the Mustang and get a room, something overlooking the ocean. A pretty view to help me pull myself together, to get over my disappointment and get myself in the right frame of mind for single motherhood. Me and Bean would be fine. Killer too, for that matter.