Page 49 of Resilient Rhythms
“I brought your favorite.” I gesture to the beer.
He snorts, shaking his head. “Nothing in there to dull the edge.”
“It’s better than nothing,” I counter, leaning back and kicking my feet up on the deck railing. “What’s going on?”
Jameson sighs. “What’s going right?”
I dip my head in acknowledgement as I crack open a non-alcoholic beer and take a long pull. Since leaving rehab, I’ve been completely off drugs and alcohol. But the familiar ritual of hanging on my brother’s back porch, having a drink, and shooting the shit still feels normal. It’s equal parts nostalgic and comforting.
“Mckenna saw Bran on campus today,” I break the ice.
Jameson’s neck snaps in my direction. “What the fuck?”
“I know,” I sigh, stacking my feet and dropping my head back to stare up at the stars.
“How is she?”
“Honestly? Better than I anticipated. Thank God Drew was with her. She nearly had a panic attack, but by the time Alfred drove her home, she was okay. She’s…resolved. She wants to press charges. We took a ride to Newbury just to get the hell away from Boston. Then, we went to her dad’s and…fuck, Jameson, she’s ready to come forward,” I share, needing to confide in someone.
Last time, I handled shit all wrong. Partly because I had no one to talk to. I was so adamant about doing everything on my own that I pushed everyone who cares about me away.
Jameson whistles low. “Fuck. That’s big.”
“Yeah.”
“How you doing?”
I cut my brother a look, but he keeps his gaze trained forward, toward the darkness.
“I’m okay,” I say slowly. “I’m not losing my shit, but fuck, man, is it hard to see the woman you love suffer. My head’s all over the place.”
A bitter smile twists Jameson’s lips. “Tell me about it.”
I narrow my eyes, staring at his profile. He hasn’t shared shit about him and Amelia. All these years and I still don’t know what went down between them. Maybe I’ll never know. But this time,I think Jameson knows their relationship is truly over. Maybe, now, he’ll open up?
“What happened between you and Amelia?” I ask softly, sensing that on some level, he needs to talk about it.
We all need someone to confide in, someone to trust. And if my brother and I can’t be that person for each other than we’ve fucked up a hell of a lot more than either of us realize.
Jameson takes a long pull of his beer. He’s quiet for a moment. Then, he rolls his lips together, sucking his teeth hard before swearing. “We lost a baby.” He looks at me, his eyes welling with pain.
“What?” I gasp, sitting up straight in my chair, my feet slamming into the deck. “When?”
“Years ago.” Jameson drags a hand over the lower portion of his face. “Back then, Amelia and I were so fucking in love that we thought we could tackle anything. When she told me about the baby, I wasn’t scared. I never thought I’d be anything like Big Jim; instead, I knew I’d be the opposite. I even felt lucky in a fucked-up way that he was the father figure in my life since he provided such a clear non-example.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from saying anything. The irony though, that two kids raised in the same household, could walk away with different interpretations of their parents is astounding.
“It was difficult for her, being pregnant,” he continues. “Her mom gave her a hard time. She didn’t have family support. She just had me. And you know what?” Jameson cuts a glance at me. “Back then, that was enough. I was enough for her.”
“What happened?”
“Miscarriage. She was thirteen weeks. We were going to tell everyone that weekend. We’d heard the heartbeat. I was going to ask her to marry me…” He swears again, draining his beer.“Even now, it’s hard to recall those memories.” He places down the bottle. “We were playing our first big gig.”
“In Roxborough.”
“Yep.” Jameson nods. “I lost my phone.”
“Reign got into it with the girl he was dating that summer. Claire Merrick. They made up afterwards, but that night, he was pissed about something.”
