Tracing Holland (NSB Book 2) (33 page)

“No, no! They just opened this new place over on Winter
Street,
Hol
,” Sylvie corrects. “Just as good!”

“Really? As good as Hendricks?”

“Delicious,” James comments. “They do a good burger too. You
like burgers, Luke?”

I nod. “Love them.”

“Great. We’ll take you over there sometime while you’re
here. How long are you in town again?”

“Through our Saturday show. We’ll roll out on Sunday.”

“Excellent! That gives us plenty of time to get to know you.
Did Holland tell you about Thursday yet?” Annie asks.

I glance at Holland who looks like she wasn’t planning to
tell me about Thursday.

“No, what’s Thursday?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Annie directs to Holland who shrugs.

“Geez, Mom. You just asked me about it this morning.”

“Still!” She shakes her head and turns back to me. “Anyway,
we thought since our daughter is actually home around Thanksgiving time, we’d
do an early dinner this year. You’re coming as well, of course.”

“Um…”

“Canadian Thanksgiving is in a couple weeks,” Holland
explains. Then glares at her mother. “And you don’t have to come if you don’t
want to. That was an invitation, not a demand, right, Mom?”

“Of course! He’s free to turn it down if he wants to insult
his future in-laws,” James teases from his recliner in the next room.

“Dad! Seriously?” Holland cries in exasperation.
Her apologetic look turns outright pleading as she turns it on me.
“I’m sorry about them. It’s not a Canadian thing, it’s a Drake thing.”

∞∞∞

“How’d
I do?” I ask as we make our way back toward the hotel.

“You were amazing,” Holland observes, taking my hand. “They
freaking love you.”

“Well, Sylvie anyway.”

She laughs. “Not as much as Casey, though.”

“Did you know about that?”

“That she’s obsessed with Casey Barrett? To be honest, Casey
probably knows that. Ask him about Sylvie Drake. I’ll show you her room on
Thursday.”

My grin fades. “About that. Thanksgiving Dinner? I’m honored
to be invited, but…” I’m hoping I don’t have to finish that sentence. Holland’s
eyes narrow, informing me that I will.

“But what?”

“I don’t know, that’s an intimate thing, isn’t it? Thanksgiving
Dinner? Wouldn’t you rather spend that time alone with your family?”

She scoffs, and I know I’ve lost. “No, I’d rather spend that
time watching the most important people in my life get to know each other.”

“I know, but I’m sure your parents want to see you.”

“Luke, do you have any idea how happy my mom is right now? That
she gets to break out her good china? I swear, she will have it out and set by
the time we get to our rooms. You also watched six innings of Jays with my dad.
He’ll date you at this point if I don’t. I haven’t seen them so happy since Wes
and I broke up.”

I nearly cough. “Wait, what? I thought you said they wanted
you to get married.”

“Oh, hell, no,” she laughs. “They were always polite to him,
but he did not click with my family at all. They thrive on the ribbing and he
doesn’t have much of a sense of humor anymore if you haven’t noticed.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“He used to when we were younger.” She sighs and shakes her
head. “Anyway, his family was a lot more upset about the breakup than mine,
which makes no sense since they also blame me for his ‘betrayal.’ I think it
was more because they were embarrassed than any concern for him…
You
know they basically disowned him when he chose music and
Tracing Holland over the family business?”

“Really? Wow.”

“Yeah, he comes from money. Like,
serious
money, and he just walked away from all of it for me, to
pursue our dream of music. He’s insanely talented but grew up being shamed for
it. They were never fair to him. They didn’t get it, or him, for that matter.
Gosh, some of the shit they used to say to him?” She sucks in her breath. “I
remember this one time back in high school they told him if he played a show
with me instead of attending some stupid dinner for his dad’s company, not to
bother coming home. They actually locked him out. I’m not kidding. He had to
sleep at our place for four days before they’d let him back in.”

I’m not sure how to respond. I’m sorry for that guy, that version
of Wes. But there’s another version that’s punched me in the face. Twice.

“It means so much to me that you’ve been so patient with
him. I know it’s taken a lot for you to show mercy and it hasn’t gone
unnoticed.”

I clench my jaw, still struggling with this whole
conversation. I know I’m supposed to be basking in her praise, maybe finding a
small ember of forgiveness, but all I’m getting out of it is more evidence of
how much I must really love her.

“So Thursday,” I continue, preferring that uncomfortable
topic
over
the current one.

“Yes, Thursday. You’ll come?”

“Do I have a choice? I mean I don’t want to insult my future
in-laws,” I joke, and she winces.

“Yeah, uh, sorry about that. They were just trying to
humiliate me, don’t worry.”

I laugh. “Your parents yes, not so sure about your sister.”

∞∞∞

Casey
doesn’t recall the name Sylvie Drake, but loves the fact that my girlfriend’s
sister is using me to get to him.

“So tell me this story again?”

I roll my eyes and take a sip of my coffee as we walk
through downtown Toronto toward today’s adventure, some aquarium by the CN
Tower. Callie and Holland are grinning, loving this almost as much as Casey.

“None of the details have changed in the last twenty
minutes, Case,” I mutter.

“Oh, ok, just checking. So she still likes me more than you,
then.”

“Apparently.”

“Even though you’re dating her sister.”

“Apparently.”

“Even though you’ve had dinner with her and gave her an
exclusive, solo performance at her house.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“You should have invited her to come with us today,” Callie
adds. “I bet she would have loved to spend the day with you,
hon
,” she says, slinging her arm around his waist.

“Trust me, Cal.
I love my sister dearly,
but you don’t want her anywhere near your boyfriend,” Holland laughs.
“You should see her room.”

“Oh really? Does it have lots of pictures of me and not
Luke?” Casey quips, and I shove him forward.

“Concentrate on walking, superstar,” I tease, returning his
infectious grin in spite of myself.

“I’m just saying, I’m here for you, bro. If you want me to
put in a good word for you, I’d be happy to.”

I sigh and shake my head, wondering what the fallout would
be for tossing someone in the stingray pool.

∞∞∞

It’s
almost strange being out in public without Wes, but he must have finally gotten
the hint because when the call went out about the aquarium, we had fewer takers
than usual. I’m not surprised Eli and Sweeny opted for a trendy bar two blocks
from the ACC, or that Jesse is lying low, still smarting from his flower cave
embarrassment. I certainly have no complaints about time alone with the three
most important people in my life, even though I can’t say I’m overly interested
in fish and giant algae.

Still, I’m having more fun than I anticipated when Callie
and Holland first begged me to go, and have to admit Casey’s reaction to the
shark tank is probably worth its own television show. He has the entire
surrounding crowd of tourists laughing at his commentary and hypothetical
conversations between the sharks and fish swimming over our heads as the giant
conveyer escorts us through the tunnel.

“Hey, Cal. Why are seahorses such good gamblers?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“
Aww
, come on! You know you want
to.”

“Nope. Not answering it.”

“Why?” Holland chimes in, and yes, part of me is dying to
know too after hearing all about how the sea turtle’s date had a terrible time
at prom because it would only participate in the slow dances.

“Because they know when to let it ride!“

“Casey, that’s terrible. That doesn’t even make sense!”
Callie groans, even though she can’t hold back her smile for long. Even I’m
snickering as he grins and shrugs. The awkward, almost joke barely has time to
register, however, before he’s pointing out yet another stingray for the
eighteenth time. I almost lose it when the eight-year-old in front of us
informs him it’s the same one he was admiring thirty seconds ago. Also, he’s
eight, goes to Bradford Elementary, and has a rabbit named Oliver. His sister
couldn’t come because she has an ear infection.

“I think Casey found a new BFF,” Holland observes, taking my
hand. I squeeze back and chuckle.

“There’s a lot he could learn from an eight-year-old.”

“A lot more you could,” she returns.

“Eight actually wasn’t a bad year for me. The first eight
were good.”

I feel her glance but don’t return it. I’m not really
looking for a conversation. I’m not even sure why I said that.

“So what happened at nine? Is that when your dad got sick?”

I nod. “Yeah. And when my mom started not taking it well.”

“That makes sense.”

I shake my head. “Anyway, how much do you want to bet Casey
buys a ticket to suit up and hang with the stingrays?”

“That’s a pretty boring bet,” she scoffs. “There’s no way he
doesn’t.”

“Ok fine. Then how much that he convinces Callie to go with
him?”

∞∞∞

Casey
doesn’t convince Callie to don a wet suit and Holland owes me a steak dinner.
We have fun watching Casey enjoy his private lesson with the stingrays, until
the inherent attention on stingray swimmers explodes into a full-on autograph
session when we’re recognized as quite a bit more than that. Of course, Casey manages
to get off with just a few waves and shouted responses from his protected
position in the water, but Holland and I end up with crowds that rival the ones
we just waded through at the shark tanks. Even Callie signs a few, most likely
because our fans aren’t sure if they need hers but don’t want to take the risk
of missing out. Watching her stunned expression as aquarium brochures are waved
in her face almost makes the whole thing worth it. A helpful development since
we’re stuck until Casey finally finishes with his aquatic adventure. The second
he joins us we do our best to sneak away from the attention.

“You guys hungry?” Casey asks as we finally step into the
freedom of the sunshine. “Let’s grab something. What’s good, Holland?”

“Hmm…well, there’s a nice bar and grill not too far if you
like good bar food.”

“Bar food! Hear that, Cal? I’m in!” Casey cries.

Callie laughs. “There’s a surprise.”

“Luke, you good with that?” Holland asks.

“Sure, whatever’s
fine.
You’re
paying anyway,” I tease.

∞∞∞

“Hey,
man. How are you holding up?” I ask, climbing onto Jesse’s bus after we get
back from dinner. I’d heard he skipped food again, which makes three missed
meals and almost twenty-four hours of self-quarantine: phase two of the beating
yourself up process. I can tell by his exhausted red eyes that Phase One beat
the shit out of him last night.

“Oh, hey, Luke. Doing ok.” He’s not as good of a liar as I
am, but I let it slide. I drop to the other end of the couch as he lowers his
guitar. “You want a drink or something?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

Jesse nods before shaking his head. “By the way, you were
right about that chick. She wouldn’t stop texting and calling. I had to block
her after the fifth call in two hours.”

I sigh. “Yeah. You’ve got to be careful with your personal
info.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You weren’t,” I point out with a smile.

He returns it. “Stupid, I know.”

I sigh. “Look, you messed up. It happens.”

He studies the far wall. “Yeah, well, my manager was
pissed.”

“To be fair his meal ticket did end up strung-out in a
fucking tunnel.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.” He lets out a dry laugh and
rubs his eyes. “God, what is wrong with me? I mean
,
I’ve done some pretty stupid shit, but wow.” He shakes his head. “Actually,
it’s funny, he told me the same thing you did. If I’m
gonna
party, be smart about it.”

“It’s good advice.”

“Yeah, it just doesn’t seem as stupid in the moment, that’s
the problem. Then later you’re like, what the hell was I thinking?”