Dirty - Page 91/99

“Yeah. Everything’s fine.” He reached out, taking hold of her hand. “How about with you?”

Her smile was grim. “Getting there.”

“Know you weren’t keen on me selling the house. But with the extra money, I can afford to fly back sometimes. Visit more often,” he said, voice soft.

“I’d like that.” The joy in Nell’s voice spoke for itself.

The siblings held hands. I looked away, it was a private moment. His promises to visit had nothing to do with me. I’d just have to suck it up. And it was a good thing he’d be around more for his sister; Nell would need all the support she could get.

Mal, however, kept watching the siblings, eyes thoughtful. Any trace of his particular brand of crazy appeared to have disappeared for the time being.

“The Closed sign’s up, door’s locked,” said Joe, joining us.

Andre followed close behind. “Hello, everyone.”

“Hi.” I smiled. Behind us, the restaurant had emptied, all of the lights were dimmed. Cool acoustic songs by a variety of bands played over the sound system. I liked how they kept the music going even after closing. “Time for me to get back to work.”

“Stay put,” ordered Nell. “Masa and Boyd and the new kitchen kid have got it covered. We’re having a small surprise going-away party for my brother. Since he’s about as good at goodbyes as he is with letting us know he’s in town in the first place.”

“I was going to call you that day,” said Vaughan.

“Yeah, yeah.”

The big blond bear went back behind the bar, taking a dusty bottle off the very top shelf. “Eric said never to touch this one. So we’ll start with it.”

“Excellent. Have to admit, your brother has fine taste in scotch…” Andre inclined his head toward Nell, the smallest of smiles in place. “And women.”

“Don’t.” She threw a balled-up paper napkin at him.

“Ah, speaking of,” said Andre, gaze switching to Vaughan. “Pat said he’d catch you later. He’s taken his motorcycle and headed up into the wilds of Canada for a week or two to get his head together.”

Vaughan nodded. But said nothing.

Andre frowned, looking Nell’s way.

A muscle jumped in Nell’s jaw. “If you’ve got something to say, Andre, do me a favor and just say it.”

Tonight, Andre wore a particularly cool plaid button-down shirt, hair slicked back. He stopped, focus entirely on Nell. His eyes softened, face not unkind. “Baby girl, you fucked up not fixing your marriage. Pat fucked up giving up on you too easy. Hell, Eric fucked up ever going near you, knowing what the situation was between you two. You know all of this. But if you think for a minute that I don’t love you and haven’t got your back, then you’re crazy. I’ll babysit and change shitty diapers if I have to and I fully expect to be godfather, understood?”

Nell hurriedly looked away, sucking in her cheeks. Trying to hold back tears, I’d guess. After waiting a second or two, Andre strode over, throwing his arms around her. The way she clung to him couldn’t have failed to move anyone. That kind of unwavering love and support was what I wanted. It was why I was staying here. That’s what Vaughan was giving up by yet again leaving. And the longing, the naked emotion on his face showed he knew it, how couldn’t he?

It was the price he paid to follow his dream.

My dream wasn’t as grand as stardom on the stage. I didn’t want to be a rock-and-roll icon. I wanted home and community, a job where I could excel and financially build a future for myself. Sure, if a fairy godmother came along and bonked me on the head with her wand, giving me instant glamour and success as a plus-size model, I’d deal. It would be fun, but it wasn’t what my heart yearned for.

“I’m not changing shitty diapers, tell you that much,” Mal announced.

“Amen.” Joe raised his glass of scotch and they toasted to the sentiment.

“Pussies,” I said.

“How are all of the Stage Dive babies doing?” asked Vaughan, accepting his own glass of scotch off Joe.

You had to give it to the guy, Malcolm Ericson did an amazing impression of someone slowly choking to death. By the time his head thunked down on top of the bar, I almost clapped.

“That well, huh?”

Mal groaned. “V-man, if I have to look at one more too cute baby video I’m going to, shit, I’m going to lose it. I just can’t take it anymore. I mean, congratulations to them. Their boys can swim. But I don’t need to see every fucking thing the fruit of their loins does, you know?”