Page 35 of August Lane
Emma:
It’s fine if you’d rather not say.
Jojo:
I was just thinking, is all. Maybe? I’m not sure. I traveled a lot after I had her. Did the bar circuit while I was underage. It wasn’t dangerous. Or maybe it didn’t feel that way because most of us were carrying.
Emma:
Carrying? You mean guns?
Jojo:
Don’t look so shocked. My band was all country kids who grew up with hunting rifles. Mom gave me my first pistol.
Emma:
I can see why you wouldn’t want your daughter around that.
Jojo:
I didn’t. But I also don’t want to pretend that’s why I left her with Birdie. Mom wanted August. I wanted to sing.
CHAPTER SIX
2009
Luke had never been good with words. He was a late talker who’d preferred to communicate with gestures until his fourth birthday. That was the year his father died, and he wondered if, even at that age, he knew that meant his childhood was over. Ava started calling him the man of the house when she tucked him into bed.
His pediatrician considered Luke’s sudden willingness to talk evidence that his prior reluctance was obstinance instead of a developmental issue. Ava thought that meant Luke was being difficult and made it her mission to make him easy. Any time he slipped into his old habit of gestures instead of speaking, she’d grab his hand and squeeze until he flinched.
Luke learned to use his words strategically, like tools. He knew which jokes would make his teammates laugh or what kind of greeting would prompt a smile from a stranger. He knew what not to say around his mother when she was hurting. He knew what his girlfriend wanted to hear when he called her each night, even though she hated talking on the phone. “Just needed to hear your voice.”
