Page 58 of Beneath the Stain

Trav excused himself and found Terry in the open kitchen, sitting on a stool in front of the counter while Shelia made him a smoothie.

“And I’m putting protein powder in it,” she said soberly. “Now Stevie says it tastes like Play-Doh, but Jefferson says it actually adds some sweetness without sugar. Did you want orange juice or milk as a base?”

“Orange juice,” Trav said dryly. “He’s lactose intolerant. And put lots of fruit in there, Shelia.” He shook his head and patted his stomach. “The protein powder makes the damned shakes binding if you don’t have enough fruit.”

Terry nodded and smiled, and they shared a moment of benevolent amusement for the girl in the bright yellow tank top and short-shorts who had greeted a perfect stranger with a smoothie.

“Hi, Trav!” Shelia said with a smile. “Would you like a mango/pineapple with juice?”

“Sure,” Trav said, more to be companionable than anything else. “Thank you, Shelia—you know I didn’t buy that thing so you could wait on us.”

Shelia grinned. “Yeah, I know. But I never had a chance to entertain before. I’m like lady of the manor here—besides being the only girl!” Her smile was all sunshine.

Terry turned bemused eyes to Trav. “She’s adorable—did she come with the new digs?”

Trav shook his head. “She came with the new band. She’s, uhm, Jefferson and Stevie’s… uhm… they’re together.”

He’d tried to speak below the wheeerrrm of the blender, but she cast one of those brilliant grins over her shoulder and Trav knew that she had not only heard but she had no problem with it. He still didn’t know how to explain it to his parents.

Terry raised his eyebrows and quirked up a corner of his ripe mouth. “That’s funny. I’ve never met a real ménage before.”

“Well, check it off the bucket list.”

Shelia came forward with two smoothies in the little cups with the tops, moving around the island and kissing Trav on the cheek. “You two have a little talk,” she said sweetly. “I’m going to go help Jefferson put up posters. He’s like a little kid, you know?”

She disappeared and Trav watched her go, hoping the twins (as he’d started to think of them) appreciated the hell out of her. He knewhewas starting to, and he’d never seen himself living with a girl.

Terry took a sip. “That’s not bad,” he said. Then Shelia rounded the corner of the kitchen and disappeared. Both of them dropped their public faces and looked at each other soberly.

“I brought your stuff,” Terry said. “There’s a couple of boxes that I set outside in front of the garage. I know you said you’d come by and get it, but I wanted to see the new digs. Nice.” He looked around, indicating the multilevel house. The kitchen and living area had a wraparound window that looked onto the acre’s worth of front yard. Apparently Daphne at the real estate office had someverynice connections, and Heath meant what he said about making sure the boys were treated right.

And, well, owing Trav for that whole saving-his-life thing that Trav tried to forget a lot.

“I’m earning it,” Trav said soberly. “The boys need a lot of help—and I haven’t even started booking their tour. But it was nice of you to bring by the stuff.”

Terry dropped his gaze. “I brought the chess set—”

“I told you—”

Terry held out his hand. “Think of it as a peace offering,” he said. “Dammit, Trav, I just need to know it meant something. Because the way you left—man, that was cold.”

Trav hated the misery roiling in his stomach, hated it worse than poison because he liked to think he was over this bullshit. “Well, I’m a cold bastard,” he said through a thin smile.

Terry looked at him hard.

Then his face softened and his chin quivered. “Yeah, that’s you. Cold to the bone,” he said, but his lips were playing with a bitter smile, and Trav knew he hadn’t hidden as much of himself as he’d wanted to.

“How’s the kid from the shower?” Trav asked, hoping that topic at least would pull them both back emotionally. God,somethingneeded to.

“Working at the bookstore, waiting for me to get over you,” Terry said simply.

Trav put his shake glass down with a thump and slid off his stool. “Well, go take him out for wine or a soda or something. You need to be over me, water under the burned bridge or something. I wasn’t good enough, I was a fucker who didn’t listen, I’m just a fucking soldier who can’t read a poem or look at a picture or—”

“Stop!” Terry begged, rubbing a shaking hand in front of his eyes. “Stop—I’m sorry I said that shit, okay? Do you want me to beg? I’ll beg. I’ll fucking beg for you to come home, quit this job—”

“Quit this job?” Trav stared at him, appalled. “Quit this job? This isn’t ajob, Terry—it’s a… this thing I’m doing isimportant.These guysneedme. Like I thought I needed you, but I was wrong about that. I’m not wrong about this. The whole fucking world has walked out on these kids—”

“This isn’t a musician’s foster home for burnouts!” Terry snapped.