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I wish I had brothers. Not sisters.
I slide the flannel over my not good enough T-shirt and push Frankie away from me. “Go away.”
Jameson takes off toward the field after hanging on Ethan for a good ten minutes. I tune my guitar and hide the present for Taliyah behind the stage until later. I notice Evie on the stage, holding Stevie again who’s fallen asleep in her arms.
My mom approaches, taking her from Evie and into the bar where it won’t be so loud.
As I watch my wife, her white summer dress blowing with the subtle wind, I smile and remember a time when this image was the only thing that kept me alive.
Ethan nudges me when he notices Evie won’t look at me. “How’s that grand gesture going?”
I strap my Gibson over my shoulder. “I’m working on it.”
“Same set list?” he asks, reaching for his Fender, a replica of the one we bought Taliyah.
“Yeah, but let’s open with “Into the Mystic.”
He smiles, shaking his head. “You’re a pussy.”
I roll my eyes, climbing the stair riser to the stage. “Let’s not forget the time you forgot Frankie’s birthday….”
He snorts. “I don’t see how celebrating on your actual birthday is such a big deal. Pick a day in the year and live it up.”
Though I agree with his logic, Frankie does not. Her thirtieth birthday will always be remembered as the time Ethan got blackout drunk and forgot.
On the stage, the crowd, pretty much everyone and their kids who live in our small town, cheer. I eye my baby girl now in Evie’s arms. “Happy Birthday, Taliyah,” I say into the microphone, smiling down at her, center stage, grinning from ear toear. Her princess crown is crooked on her head, her cheeks flushed with shimmer sparkles and equal parts dirt. A perfect presentation of what she is, sugar and not so nice at times.
I adjust the microphone in front of me, the bumpy metal warm against my lips. I stare down at my baby girl, smiling. “I know you made the set list for us tonight but is it okay if I play your mama’s favorite song first?” She nods eagerly, her eyes bright as she clings to Evie with both arms.
Evie sighs, a smile on her lips, as if she knows what I’m doing.
“This one’s for my wife. I’m not perfect, but I love you. Thank you for giving me three beautiful children.” I wink and move my guitar around the front of me.
Ethan begins the opening riff of Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” and then me. I press my lips to the metal again, my eyes on my wife and sing to her. It’s all I can do because my sorry means nothing. Me being here, for her, listening to what hurt, that’s where the forever comes in. That’s how you make an effort.
Sure, I used our daughter’s day to say I’m sorry but by the end of that song, the tension has eased from Evie’s face and I see a glimmer of hope that we’re okay. We’re still healing, still working at the happy ever after.
We playfor over two hours. Every song Taliyah loves. Even fucking Taylor Swift to which Ethan sings pretty damn well. It’s because his balls are constantly in Frankie’s purse, waiting to come out for the day.
While Taliyah is cutting her birthday cake and Jameson is throwing an absolute shit show of a fit on the floor, Evie finds me. “Your son is losing his shit tonight.”
I bring the beer in my hand to my lips and lean into her asshe wraps an arm around my waist. “At least he’s wearing his pants again. Most of the night he was buck ass naked.”
She frowns. “It’s always the middle child that’s a monster.”
My eyes slide to hers, and then Frankie who is organizing a very elaborate present display complete with that guitar in front. “There’s a lot of truth in that statement.”
I press my lips to Evie’s temple and then turn her to face me. “I’m really sorry about earlier.”
She touches her hands to my chest, palms flat, my thumping pulse beneath the heat of hers. She lifts her eyes to mine. “Seven years ago tonight, this stopped beating.” Emotion clogs my throat and I struggle to swallow. There’s that fucking crack again. “And I told myself if it ever started again, I would never take one second with you for granted. So I’m sorry. I know why you went there. For the same reason I did. I just… I wished you would have told me first.” Her chin shakes, her eyes glossy. “And went on a different day. This is Taliyah’s day now. We both agreed to that when she was born. No more looking at this day with anger or sadness. It’s a new beginning. Remember?”
“Today is why I did it,” I tell her, leaning into the wall behind her. There’s laughter and kids screaming all around us, but we’re locked in our own world, trapped in a moment we can’t escape. “I think I needed to see his face, to remind myself what evil looked like. There’s no remorse in his eyes, no care as to what he took from us.”
“Did you really think he would have remorse?”
“No, but I needed that reminder.”
“Why? What did seeing his face do for you?”