“Oh let him help. It’ll be good for the two of you to spend some time together. This afternoon your father can rest.” Aunt Gina smiled at him.
“I don’t need rest,” his dad grumbled.
Yeah, well Gray didn’t need his supervision, but it looked like none of them were getting what they wanted today.
* * *
“You want another?” Sam asked as Gray leaned on the counter of the Moonlight Bar eight hours later. Gray nodded and Sam filled his glass with another shot of whiskey. His third, which felt restrained considering the day Gray’d had.
Nothing was good enough for his father. He should have known that by now. But being told he needed to rip out everything he’d done so far and start again was bad, even for him. It had led to a full-blown fight, followed by a huge coughing fit before a teary Aunt Gina had shot him a look and made his father go back to bed.
So much for family bonding.
“You still sore about losing the Karaoke competition?” Sam asked with a grin. The bar was practically empty, but Gray still kept his cap pulled down low and sat in the shadows at the far end. More because he was pissed than because he was worried about being spotted.
He swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, the warm liquid searing the back of his throat in such a pleasurable way. He wasn’t drunk – unlike Tanner, it took more than a few drinks to get him that way – but he was more relaxed than he’d felt in days.
“I’m not sore about losing,” Gray said as he put down his empty glass. He shook his head when Sam lifted the bottle again. “I just needed a quiet place to sit.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow. “It’s funny, because that’s where your old man used to sit back in the day. I was just a kid then. But I remember pouring him out whiskies while he lurked right there.”
Gray frowned. “My dad used to come here?”
“Yup. Regular as clockwork. I felt kind of sorry for him. His wife gone, and five kids to feed and clothe. It’s tough on any man to have to handle that.” Sam poured himself a glass and leaned on the counter. “Everybody thought he’d get remarried real quick. There was even talk of him marrying your Aunt Gina, but that went nowhere.”
Gray could remember wishing they would get married, even though there was never anything more than friendship between his dad and his mom’s sister. He’d been afraid of losing her the way they’d lost their mom. Scared that she’d get sick of taking care of them and leave them alone with their dad.
But she always stayed, and he was grateful for that.
“Maybe he should’ve gotten remarried,” Gray muttered into his empty glass.
“Sometimes you only get one chance at love,” Sam said, shrugging. “Maybe your mom was his soul mate. What’s the point in trying to replace the irreplaceable?”
“You really believe that?” Gray asked him. “That there’s only one soul mate out there for each of us?”
“I don’t know.” Sam leaned his chin into the vee of his thumb and forefinger. “But maybe your dad did. I’ve never seen a man so lost. To be honest, it scared me to death. Maybe that’s why I stayed single.” He chuckled. “You see a lot of heartbreak in this job.”
Gray tried to picture his father sitting here as a younger man. He could barely remember a time before his mom died, and couldn’t remember what his father had been like then. His memories were full of the anger, the arguments, and the fire that rose up in his stomach every time he and his father clashed.
“One thing that your dad didn’t do when your mom died was leave. For a while I wondered if he might. I see that a lot, too. Guys who abandon their families and walk away.” Sam pressed his lips together. “I hate that.”
“I know a bit about walking away,” Gray said, holding his glass up for one last whiskey. It had done its job. Soothed away the pain and doused the fire. He didn’t need it to do any more than that. He’d drink this last glass and head home. And maybe be a little thankful that he wasn’t a widowed man with five children depending on him.
A man who’d had love and lost it.
Gray wondered what it was like to have a love to lose.
* * *
You’ve been invited to the Ansell Class of 2015 Reunion Group.
Maddie clicked on the little notification, her stomach lurching as it took her to the group Sarah had messaged her about. At the top was the option to join, along with a little note stating she was in preview mode, able to read any posts in the group, but unable to comment on them unless she joined.
She felt her throat get tight as she scrolled down. There were over fifty members already. And a whole list of posts from them, thanking Sarah for creating the group, updating everybody on their lives.
Some of them were playing in Symphony orchestras, traveling the US. Others were working for music publishers, or teaching music at a college level to new students. She recognized a couple of them who were now working in Hollywood in the movie industry, composing scores.
Not one of them seemed to be working in a diner, or teaching music to the local youth.