Love Is Louder Read online

  “That’s great.” I look down at her and see my sister. Her soft brown hair and her pale blue eyes are so beautiful.

  It will be four years in two weeks since Meadow died and brought this little girl into my life. She’s a fighter. She survived, and we took her home after she spent two months in the NICU and went to court to gain custody of her since her father wanted nothing to do with her. He’s a piece of fucking work for abandoning my sister after he found out she was pregnant. He lives in Florida with his fiancée, and she’s expecting twins. I hope he likes them apples. Fate always has a way of fucking with you in the worst way.

  The late June sun is brutal as we walk to my black Ford F150, and I buckle Lily in and turn on the air conditioner before putting my truck into drive. We maneuver through town quietly as the Civil Wars “Dust to Dust” plays softly in the background. Lily loves to listen to country music. It probably has to do with the fact that Mom always had the radio playing in the nursery. Now, we try to incorporate Meadow’s love of music in all parts of Lily’s life.

  “Uncle Mason?”

  “Yes, Lily?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”

  Tapping lightly on the steering wheel, I peek back at her through the rearview mirror. Her delicate features are fixed in confusion. “Yes,” I say as we sit at a red light.

  “Oh.” She pouts, dropping her chin to her chest.

  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

  “Can I come work with you?”

  “You’re too pretty to work.” I smile and chuckle. “I’ve got a better idea. How about I take you out for some ice cream?”

  “With rainbow sprinkles and gummy bears?”

  “You can have anything you want, and then I’ll take you to see Nana at the flower shop, so you can help her,” I say, glancing over my shoulder. “How does that sound?”

  “You’re the best.” She smiles. “Uncle Mason, is this what daddies do with their daughters?”

  I swallow hard and return my eyes to the road when the light turns green. “Yes,” I murmur. It’s effortless and amazing how this little girl can strip me down and bring every emotion I feel crumbling to my feet.

  “Do you think I can call you and Micah Daddy?”

  I hesitate, unsure of how to respond. “I can never be your daddy, but I can come close.”

  “Why? You do everything all the other daddies do at school with their kids.”

  “I’m your uncle. It’ s a little different…I’m your mommy’s big brother.”

  “But you love me just as much, right?” Her eyes meet mine when I look back.

  “Yes, I do...bu—”

  “I just want to call someone daddy like all the other kids at school. We can pretend like when I pretend Evan is my prince. Can we do that?” she cuts me off.

  Lily’s family has always been Mom, Micah, and me. She knows no one else and does not need anyone else. If calling me Daddy is what she wants, then her wish is my command.

  With some hesitation, I reply, “Yes, you can call me Daddy.”

  “Yay!” She wiggles on the seat, and for the next thirty seconds, smiles bigger than I’ve ever seen her smile. Her giggles shoot calming rays of sunshine through me, and her face is a vision of pure innocence and happiness.

  “Uncle Mason...I mean, Daddy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you know what happened to my daddy? Why he hasn’t come to see me?”

  I pause at her question. It’s as if she pulled my fears straight from inside me. This discussion is the one thing I want to avoid when it comes to Lily. How do I answer this? What do I say without hurting her? Without making her feel like her father just didn’t care enough to acknowledge her?

  “I...I’m not sure,” I say quietly, tension tightening my shoulders like a vise.

  “Does he know about me?”

  I swallow hard when I see the wetness sparkling in her eyes. My hearts leaps into my throat. I’ve thought about this moment many times, and here it is, and I have to find a way to answer her question. I hate this, but I’d rather she have the conversation with me.

  “I’m sure if he knew about you, he would be here,” I answer with a shaky voice.

  “Do you think he’s looking for me, like when we play hide and seek?”

  I try to push aside my tangled emotions as a small cloud of anxiety hangs over me.

  “I bet he is.”

  “I better stop hiding, then maybe he’ll find me, right?” She giggles, like it’s the funniest thing. To her it is, but to me, it makes my veins fill with fire. It would mean losing her, and I can’t have that shit.

  Over my fucking dead body.

  “Yes, you’re a good little hider,” I say, gripping the steering wheel with my one hand like I’m strangling someone’s neck.

  “If he finds me, then I’ll have two daddies!”

  It’s suddenly gotten hot in the cabin, and I turn up the air conditioner and point the vents directly at me so the air blasts my face. Looking straight ahead, I reluctantly reply, “Yes...two daddies are better than one.”

  My stomach is in knots listening to the hope in her voice. I struggle with my feelings of not wanting to let her go, while the other part of me wants her to know her father.

  “What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were sick?”

  “Yeah, well, I got a second wind.”

  “Really?” I look up from the stock sheet, checking to make sure the last shipment of alcohol and beer has been received. “It has nothing to do with what’s her name coming over this afternoon?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I swung by your place to see if you needed anything, and I saw Payton’s car in the driveway. From the looks and sounds of it, I think she was taking care of you and your illness.”

  Smirking, Micah rakes his fingers through his hair and grabs a bottle of beer from the bar. “Well, she called and offered to bring over some medicine, so I took her up on her offer.”

  “I bet you did, shithead.”

  “Damn, Bro. Cut me some slack.” He coughs. “See...still got the cough.”

  I grunt, tossing the clipboard onto the bar. “I’m not cutting you any slack tonight. The place opens in thirty minutes, so you can start getting the bar ready.”

  “Fine. I’ve got your back.”

  “Good. I need you to pull your weight around here.”

  Bull and Bear was my brainchild. I always wanted to own my own bar. I’ve had this place for eight years, and it’s my baby. Tonight is Monday and open mic night. It was Micah’s idea and has been the best thing to happen to the bar, with it being one of our busiest nights of the week. We get a ton of people out who want to sing and others who shouldn’t be singing.

  Of course, we had our own selfish reasons for open mic. Micah and I get to play, too. He plays bass, and I play the acoustic guitar. Meadow never got to participate since this started right after she passed away.

  “I’ve got this as long as we get the band on stage. I need to let loose. Are you down?”

  “If you get this place into shape, I’ll consider it.”

  I’m glad he asked. Shit, I’ve been aching to pull out the guitar and release some pressure, especially after I had to take all the service calls today. It’s a nice way to start off the week.

  “Hey, do you remember how Meadow used to sing?” Micah reminisces with a sparkle in his eyes. “I miss that.”

  “Yeah, I miss a lot of things about our little sister,” I answer, grabbing a wet rag to wipe the bar.

  “She would have owned open mic night.”

  “I bet everything on that. Playing the piano with her angelic voice, she’d win every night.” I blink down, studying my hands.

  “We would have had to drag her off the stage kicking and screaming.” Micah stares off into space for a moment with a sad smile on his face.”Fuck, I miss her.”

  “I miss her, too,” I say quietly, running a hand though my hair.

 
He shakes his head wordlessly and glances over at me, picks up his beer, and starts pulling at the label. “Lily has the bug, you know.”

  “I noticed. I plan on those piano lessons soon. That’s what Meadow would have wanted.”

  “I want more than piano lessons for that little girl. I want the world for her.”

  “We are her world,” I say with conviction. “We’re all she needs.”

  “Always will be.” His face twists into a frown while his eyes dart around the bar. “Still bothers me even after four years, ya know? I just wish we knew more about what happened to Meadow that night.” He squares his shoulders and sets his beer onto the bar.

  “And with her ex. That fucker doesn’t even care.”

  “If he doesn’t show his face, then it’s fine by me. Lily is better off with us.” He clenches his jaw, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

  Our eyes meet in understanding, and I relax just a little bit as I pick up the clipboard and straighten my spine as resolution fortifies me. I try not to worry about what the future may hold, and instead, focus on what is important, right here and right now. Lily is with me. With us.

  “We better get this bar stocked, or we’re screwed for the night.”

  Micah smirks and pulls his hands out of his pockets. “I’ll get right on it, boss.”

  I don’t mention the short conversation I had with Lily. I’m still not quite sure how I feel about her father coming around. It’s been four years and not a trace of him, but having her meet him is the right thing to do. She needs to know who her father is. Whenever it happens, I have to be prepared for it. We all have to be prepared for it.

  Thirty minutes later, the day’s stress drains from my shoulders as I sit behind the bar and watch people trickle through the doors. The lighting is dim at the bar, and the stage is lit and set up for eager vocalists and musicians to showcase their talents. The night draws a mixed crowd since we’re located right in the downtown center. Tonight is particularly busy with the local fair in town, which lasts through the weekend.

  The clink of glasses being placed onto the mahogany bar throws off my rhythm for a moment, and so is what I see next. I’ve never seen this guy in my place before. In fact, I haven’t seen him in years, not since today when I saw his wedding photo hanging on the wall in his home. I scan the room looking for his wife Brie, but I don’t see her. I don’t think she’d be too happy with what my eyes are taking in right now. Her husband is standing with a stunning blonde. They’re not doing anything overtly suggestive, but their smiles and constant contact tell me something more is going on. He’s got a beautiful wife at home, and here he is in public, flirting and carrying on with another woman.

  So, he hasn’t changed. What a prick. Fucker could never keep his attention on one girl for more than a minute before he was on to the next. My sister almost fell for his charm, but I squashed that little situation right away. I wonder if he played the same game through college. He did snag himself a beauty. How and why she fell for him is beyond me. My attention lingers for a minute before I resume assisting the other two bartenders for the next hour.

  “Hey, can we get some drinks here?”

  I pull my eyes up as I’m grabbing a couple of beers for my current customer while listening to the band on stage performing a pretty good rendition of Train’s “Drive By.”

  “What do you need?” I shift my eyes slightly to the right where the voice emanates, completely caught off guard by my newest customer, the one and only James Fleming. He raises an eyebrow and catches my gaze and then flicks his eyes down the length of the bar and back to me in obvious shock.

  The last thing I want to do is chitchat with James, but it would be nice to bust his balls like I did in high school now that I know he’s up to his old tricks. It’s just really none of my business, though.

  “Mason...Mason Marks?” he asks.

  “The one and only,” I answer, extending my hand. He shakes it firmly and smirks. Or is that a fucking sneer? “Welcome to Bull and Bear.”

  He casts his eyes across the room and back at me. “Busy tonight.” One of his hands rakes though his hair, the other he shoves into his pocket.

  “Yeah, open mic night is a hit,” I state as his blonde companion saunters up, smiles at me, and wraps her hand around his bicep.

  “Did you get our drinks, hon?”

  Hon? Hmmm. This guy is a piece of shit.

  I feel bad for his pretty wife sitting at home alone. I’m going to call him out for the asshole he is. I have a shocker for him, just like in the old days. What I plan to do is for Brie, because she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this.

  “Yeah, Lisa, I’ll bring them over. Just want to catch up with an old friend.”

  “Okay, and a water, if you don’t mind,” she adds, leaning in close so her bountiful tits brush up against his arm.

  “Be right there.” He throws his credit card onto the bar with cocky arrogance and discreetly admires her ass as she walks away.

  Friend.

  He won’t be using that term after I expose him for what he is and what he’s always been. A cheating bastard.

  “Can I have a couple of vodkas and cranberries and two shots of Patrón?”

  “And a water?” I chuckle as I start his drinks.

  “Yeah...women. Shit,” he says, thrumming his fingers on the bar.

  “Yeah, can’t live with them. Can’t live without them.”

  It looks like this asshole has the best of both worlds.

  “Got that right,” he says as he starts to get comfortable with the conversation, lost in his own self-importance.

  This is going to be fun.

  “So, I took care of your washer today.”

  “Washer?” He pulls his eyes to mine.

  “Yeah...Marks Service Techs. You called us to come out to your place to service your washer.”

  “So...” He throws his eyebrows up in surprise. “That’s you, too?”

  “Yeah, that’s me, and your washer is all set.”

  “Thanks, man. I tried to figure it out, but I’m not a handy man.”

  Yeah, I called that one.

  “Your wife seems very nice,” I say as I start his vodkas and cranberries.

  “Brie.” He chuckles nervously. “You met her.”

  “A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Too bad she’s at home while you’re out tonight with Lisa.”

  He pushes away from the bar and narrows his eyes. “I suggest you mind your own business,” he rumbles, his jaw twitching. I can tell by his body language he’s winding up to give me a piece of his mind.

  “Well, it is a pretty wedding picture you have on the wall there. What are those words again? ‘For better or for worse’?”

  “Stay out of it. It’s not what you think,” he counters as the veins in his neck pulse.

  “Hmmm...Married man. Another woman. I don’t know.” I slide his drinks in front of him as I take his credit card. “Looks like cheating to me.”I deadpan. “Should I start a tab for you guys?”

  “No, we don’t plan on staying here.” He snatches the drinks from the bar as Lisa appears, lingering by his side as we continue our friendly banter.

  “Well, that sucks. I was hoping to catch up and talk about the old days. You know how you were such an arrogant asshole, and it looks like that hasn’t changed.” I wink at him.

  “Fuck you, Mason.” His eyes hold mine with a sharp, challenging look.

  Lisa’s eyes bulge out of her head, and she takes James’ insult as her cue to depart quickly and quietly back to her co-worker without a word so that we can finish our discussion.

  “Listen, I’m single, so if you can’t handle two, I can take one of them off your hands,” I chide, leaning my elbows onto the bar.

  “I don’t have time for this shit. I’m out having a few drinks. Nothing wrong with that. You need to fucking worry about the people standing around waiting for their drinks and stop worrying about me and who I’m fucking with
.”

  “‘Fucking with.’ Yeah, that’s about right.” I give off a snort.

  “Fuck, this isn’t high school,” James growls.

  He whirls around, bumping into a patron and spilling his drink on the front of his white dress shirt.

  “Oh, and by the way, I prefer brunettes!” I yell at his retreating back as the next act on stage sings “Hanging by a Moment” by Lifehouse.

  He glances over his shoulder, and his eyes meet mine in a cold dead stare before he turns away and returns to his friends. I laugh.

  I know yelling at a customer is bad for business, but I don’t care. James won’t do shit about it, and everyone knows me here. I greet my next customer with the biggest shit-eating grin. Even after thirteen years, it still feels good to put that asshole in his place.

  I’ve always been a dreamer. I was the kind of girl who’d fantasize about the man who’d come into my life and sweep me off my feet. It came true, and then it seemed my dream was fading, the mirror cracking, but now James wants to mend it. This is an olive branch. Reconciliation.

  I don’t know what has happened in the past week. James came home somewhat early last Friday night while I was in the bedroom going through proofs from several photo shoots. He told me he wanted to make it work, that he would change. His icy walls melted, the ones that had frozen over the past few months. It’s what I’ve been secretly lamenting and stressing over for weeks. Upon reflection, I probably should have asked him more questions about why the distance so we can avoid it happening again. But in the shock of the moment, I yielded to my desires, because I missed how we used to be.

  My dream somehow resurrected from the ashes overnight. I fell asleep with his strong capable arms wrapped around me, but the thought still niggled in my mind, as I lay awake in his arms.

  Why the change of heart?

  Don’t question it, Brie. Take this as a good sign.

  I can’t help but run every possible scenario in my head. My brain never stops these days.

  Our mutual friends are not going through this. James’ high school friend got married three weeks after we did on the Fourth of July four years ago. They have a two-year-old boy and are expecting their second child sometime this fall. I feel empty, incomplete, and cheated. We haven’t talked about having kids since we moved here. His job has sucked up most of his time, and I see the toll it’s taking on him. Regardless, I thought I would be pregnant with my first child or at least be trying. We talked about it before we got married, and it was something we both wanted, but now he’s hesitant.