I let out a humorless half laugh. “Bullshit. You don’t want to deal with this on your own.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right. And…whether you want to hear it or not, he’s the only family we have left, so we—”
“No.” I slammed my foot on the brake and checked my rearview mirror to make sure there was no one behind me. I rubbed my chin and sighed wearily. “He’s not my family. We have each other. And you have Stephen and Lacey too. He’s not in my life for a reason, and I’m keeping it that way. So don’t try to drag me into your family fun. It’s not happening.”
“Family isn’t always fun, Ky. I know how you feel, but—”
“Then leave me out of it,” I said sharply.
“You’re being selfish.”
“What you call selfish is another name for self-preservation. I’ve finally got my shit together. I have my own place and a job I love, so—”
“You’re in a band,” she huffed.
“What’s wrong with being in a band?” I furrowed my brow and checked the rearview mirror again.
“It’s not a real job. It’s a hobby. Geez, I love you, Ky, but I really wish you’d grow up. You’re almost thirty, for fuck’s sake.”
I bit the inside of my cheek hard and sighed before easing into traffic behind an ancient Mercedes. “I’m making a living doing something I love. I’ve got some money tucked away from my wins too. I’m not exactly a bum. And I’ve got two fucking years until I’m thirty, so back the fuck off.”
“Sorry. I’m just…stressed.” She went quiet for a moment before adding in a choked voice, “What if he has cancer?”
I didn’t reply right away. I hated that word. Maybe even more than I hated our father. When the silence went on a little too long, I figured I should fill it before Karly went to a dark place.
“Don’t do that to yourself, Kar,” I said gently.
She sniffed loudly. “You’re right. Can I call you? Just to talk. I don’t really have anyone else who knows…that part.”
“You have a husband,” I reminded her.
“Stephen and I don’t talk about stuff like that.”
“Stuff like what…your lives? Jesus, Kar.”
“Cool it. Stephen’s a good dad. That’s all that matters.” Karly ignored my sarcastic huff and continued, “I need to get back to my real life. My two-year-old isn’t as high-maintenance as you.”
“Hmph. Give Lacey a kiss for me.”
I disconnected the call before she could lecture me about how long it had been since the last time I saw my niece. I got it. I sucked. I was a crappy brother, a worse uncle, and a complete disappointment as a son. This was why I kept my distance. I loved my sister, but I didn’t understand her obsession with the past. I preferred my own mantra.…When it isn’t working anymore, let it go. Relationships, jobs, hobbies, whatever. Life was too short to dwell on shit that couldn’t be changed or toxic people who loved to see you fail. Even family.
What was done was done. I had good friends and a job I loved, working with people I admired. Especially Charlie.
Wait.
I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…okay, so maybe I admired him a little. Charlie made me laugh. Sometimes he was just fuckin’ crazy, but he was never dull. I’d never met anyone like him. Most of the time, I had no idea how to talk to him, so I teased him instead. I’d probably overdone it today and then overcorrected by offering to teach Oliver to skateboard. But that seemed kind of genius now. If nothing else, it was an excuse to hang out with Charlie that had nothing to do with the band. So yeah, there was no point in looking back when the future finally seemed worthwhile.
* * *
That was how my afternoons with Ollie started. Zero practiced at Gray’s home studio six days a week on average. The times and lengths of our sessions varied if we had an upcoming gig or if we’d played a show the previous night. But after our accidental ice cream date, I spent forty-five minutes with Oliver every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. I knew the days and times because Charlie had a thing for schedules.
“Oliver’s a busy kid. Soccer practice, chess club, piano lessons with Gray, and now skateboarding with you. His mom suggested fencing the other day, but when? His calendar is booked.” Charlie set his hand on his hip and glanced at his brother rolling around in the grass with Chester. A golden curl fell across his forehead, messing with his no-nonsense vibe. I wanted to tug at it but wisely kept my hands to myself.
“The better question is why?” I snarked. “By the way, do you think he has enough padding?”
Practically every inch of the kid was covered. His elbows, wrists, knees, shins, head. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he was wearing a protective shield under his polo shirt.