“Cool the fuck down.” I barked, shaking my head. “I’ll text them now if it’ll make you feel better, but you know they won’t mind.”
“Yeah, because they haven’t been personally fucked over by him,” he growled.
“Hey, it’s one song.”
Justin crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“Babe, there’s a business component to music too,” Gray reminded him. “You knew that when you agreed to start Scratch Records and sign Jealousy in the first place.”
“Sure, but Charlie shouldn’t have trapped Tegan and—”
“I’m not exactly a helpless case, dude. Relax,” I argued, moving toward the door. I’d officially reached my limit. I was exhausted and edgy, a dangerous combination for a guy with a new secret. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I told him I was available at nine. If your panties aren’t still in a twist after you’ve had your Cheerios, you should come by to supervise.”
“Whoa! Nope. Nothing is happening until Charlie clears it with Zero,” Justin insisted stubbornly.
I rolled my eyes and shrugged. “Johnny won’t care, Ky sleeps in the same bed as Char, and I already told Dec I’d do it. The majority wins.”
“Whatever. Everyone needs to be on the same page. If I wrote a song for Jealousy or agreed to a duet, you’d want to know first, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, sure.” I sighed heavily as I pulled the door open. “I don’t want to go round and round on this tonight. I’ve got a shit-ton on my mind right now, and this is not even close to ranking in the top three. So good night. I’ll see you—”
“How is she?” Gray asked softly.
The compassion in his tone almost undid me. My nostrils flared and my eyes stung.
“Okay, I guess. She has her first treatment tomorrow. Maggie’s taking her. My dad’s going to meet them there. He’s got some big meeting at work and…he’s kind of a wreck.”
I hoped my voice didn’t crack. I couldn’t really hear myself speak. The phenomenon seemed to happen whenever this topic popped up, like an ingenious defense mechanism. If I couldn’t hear the words, they might not be real.
Justin’s and Gray’s concerned expressions indicated that was wishful thinking.
“What time is her appointment?” Justin asked.
“Eight. I’m gonna swing by my parents’ house and—”
“Take your time, T. Don’t make a special trip here for Dec’s sake,” Justin said gently.
I let out an aggravated half laugh and gestured toward my drum kit.
“I don’t think you get it. I’m not doing anything for his sake. Mom doesn’t want me fussing over her with my dad and my sisters every damn day. And I don’t want to drive her crazy. I need to work so I’m not the one going crazy. It was Mom’s idea to switch off driving duties, and I’m fine with that. But I want to see her before she goes in. And then I’ll be here and ready to beat the hell out of those drums. Declan is a nonevent. I just…need to work.”
Justin strode across the studio and pulled me into an impromptu hug. “Hey, I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at Charlie, but I get it. Do what you need to do. And give her our best. Tell her to kick ass.”
I gave a curt nod when actual words got stuck in my throat, then I hightailed it out of there.
“Tegan, why are you here?”
I flipped my sister off behind my mug and glanced at our mom rummaging through her purse on the far end of the open-style kitchen. Mom’s ears almost always perked at the first hint of sibling discord. Even if it was in jest. She didn’t seem fazed this morning.
“I couldn’t leave Mom with you, Naggie Maggie. My conscience wouldn’t let me.” I met my sister’s gaze and whispered, “Is she okay?”
Maggie blinked back tears as she studied our mother. And this was why I was here. I was the only one who could be counted on not to cry today. Not that I didn’t want to. I did. But my sisters were both notoriously emotional types who cried at Hallmark commercials and sad songs. Rachel was the type who got maudlin for days when a favorite character got killed off her favorite TV show du jour. Just the mention of Dr. McDreamy’s demise could spark a teary debate. And she was a thirty-five-year-old mother of two, for Christ’s sake.
Maggie wasn’t much better, but she was the perfect choice to escort Mom to her first day of chemo. She was an irreverent, goofy hippie who wore paint-splattered Chuck Taylor high-tops with long floral skirts and always pulled her long brown hair in a ponytail. She was sweet and easygoing. And honestly, she rarely nagged anyone about anything. However, some nicknames stuck with you, and my status as kid brother made it practically compulsory to tease her whenever she gave me an opening.