Undefeated (Unexpected Book 5) (30 page)

“H
ow are the kids today, Mackenzie?” Dr. Welsh greets me as I enter his office.

“Doing fine,” I answer with a lie. Is it wrong to lie about my children’s health? It shouldn’t, these sessions are about my emotional health. Well, Harper’s behavior and Finn’s flu are distressing me. “Sorry about the past couple of weeks, my aunt was out of town, and there’s no one else who could keep an eye on the kids.”

“Life happens, Mackenzie. What matters is that you’re here today.” He takes a seat. “Is there something special that you’d want to discuss today?”

Is there?

“Harper refuses to talk to me,” I start with my precious girl. “Ever since Leo died we have trouble communicating. Our connection broke; it’s as if Leo was the bond between the two of us. Porter helped, but now that he’s gone, she’s refusing to talk to me. Her excuse is that I’m being unreasonable.”

“Porter?” The doctor asks.

“He’s . . .” I pause, looking at him. Realizing that up until now I haven’t mentioned Porter at all. The only other adult who knows about Porter is my aunt and, well, Virginia. During my first session I talked a little about Leo. The second session I focused on our early relationship and then his death. When Molly left for Costa Rica I couldn’t visit until today. “No. I don’t think it’s time to discuss him.”

“Alright, what do you want to discuss today?”

“Harper, she isn’t talking to me, and that makes me wonder if Finn isn’t talking for the same reason,” I say. “I’ve tried everything, but he just won’t talk. Porter tried to help. He’d play his guitar and Finn would sit right next to him. They’d sing ‘Old McDonald’ and Finn made the animal noises, but never sang the lyrics.”

“Porter is no longer playing his guitar?” The doctor questions, and I shake my head. “Maybe you can find a video on the Internet, and try to copy what Porter used to do?”

“There isn’t a video out there that can do what Porter did for us,” I snap, then bite my lip for sounding like a bitch. “Sorry, but Porter did more than sing or play his guitar. He was patient with Finn, tried to engage with him all the time. Porter learned how to redirect Harper’s angst, and my sadness.”

“What happened to Porter?”

“He left. I pushed him . . . the guilt was stronger than what I felt for him.”

I tell the doctor about my brief relationship with Porter. From the moment he opened the door, to the moment Virginia knocked on my door. Not all the details, and as much as I want to skip the tragic ending, I say it out loud, “While we were together I felt peace. Complete. Loved. Yet, in my head it felt wrong. Like a betrayal to my late husband.”

Dr. Welsh doesn’t say a word; he remains in his seat looking at me. There’s no judgment, words of condemnation, or some strong advice on how to be a decent mother and wife. I didn’t know what I expected him to say to all of that until now, but he doesn’t blink. As usual, he waits for me to continue. To lead the session and find my way through the maze inside my head.

The silence is an invitation for me to continue. Using my time, I tell him about Virginia, expecting him to agree with her. Zero response. He remains in the same position, waiting.

“Aren’t you going to tell me something?”

“Do you want to set a goal about Porter?”

“No. No. You have to tell me that what I did was wrong. Virginia is right, and I should keep myself away from—”

“Do you think Virginia is right?”

“I don’t know; I need you to confirm what she said. The confusion I carry is almost as big as the pain and the grief.”

“One of your goals, if I recall.” He points out to his tablet. “My job here is to team up with you, help you understand your needs, and find the ways to pursue what you want in life. I’m an instrument more than a solution.”

Baby steps he mentioned last time. I can take those, if at the end of the road I can find the light. Because I have to stop using everybody else’s light. If I want to change, I have to find my own light.

J
acob called me with an emergency. One of the bands he’s launching this month has to record a few tunes today and has a concert at Thrice Saturday night. The rhythm guitarist and the singer got into a fight and are in the hospital. The former has a broken arm and the latter a broken jaw.

“The keyboard player, the bassist, and the drummer agreed to kick them out.” Jacob crosses his arms and leans against his chair, looking at me. “But we have shit already rolling that can’t wait. In the meantime, I need people to cover those two positions who can mold themselves into the band’s style.”

“Porter,” I answer his question with one logical answer.

Jacob shakes his head.

“You need a guitar player and a singer. He’s both. Why not?” I lean against the wall, cross my arms and wait for the shit he’s about to spit in order to avoid Porter.

“If you needed a drummer, would you call Martin Levitz to come on board?”

Martin Levitz is my former best friend and drummer for Dreadful Souls, my original band. He was a class-act asshole that put our family through a lot of shit. Too much to even remember it all.

“Martin never tried to change, Jacob.” I use my fatherly voice, instead of giving him shit. “Porter fucked up; I’m not erasing the past and making him into a saint. But you can’t compare the two. I’m not telling you to hire him for the band, only to have him play for them while you find two new members. Porter can cover both—guitar and vocals.”

Jacob rises from his seat, walks back and forth around his office—my old office—and stops right in front of me.

“First he moves to Arthur’s place, then he’s working for Cooperson. What’s next, Sunday dinner?” He shakes his head, combs his long strands and huffs. “As your oldest son, I want to ask you to stop before he fucks us again.”

I laugh and nod my head, understanding part of his problem. It’s the same issue he had the first time we introduced Porter to him and asked him to lend him some clothes until we bought him new ones. He was a threat, someone who might take away his special place. Each kid had their special place; now as adults, they still have them. Back then Porter took the spotlight when he started his career, where Jacob never could. Not because he wasn’t talented, but because Jacob had a band. He’s had a small competition going on with him and, on top of that, everything he’s done to his sister and the family.

“Son, no matter what, he won’t take your place as the oldest.” I put a hand on top of his shoulder. “Or as a single act, there’s no threat of him stepping in and becoming competition in any place. Aren’t we a little old for that?”

Jacob shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “You think I fucking care about him taking over my spotlight? No.” He growls and walks back and forth in his office again, gesturing with his hands in the air as he speaks. “Yes, that might’ve been the case long ago. Now I’m concerned about AJ, what if he flips and suddenly attacks her, or worse, he attacks her babies—Gracie or Seth?”

I scratch the back of my head, understanding the fear. Same fear that Mason and Arthur have expressed to me. “Porter has an agent following his every move day and night.”

“Mason?” I simply answer with a nod. “Help me understand this shit, Pops. Why in the world would you want him back in our lives?”

As a brother, a son, and a friend it’s hard to comprehend, but now I can talk to Jacob, the father. “Remember your plans before Gabe and Jude came into your life?” His jaw clenches the moment I mention his twin boys. “You and Pria planned on adopting. Let’s say that would’ve been the case and suddenly that one child you adopted fucks up badly, would you abandon the kid?”

Jacob shakes his head.

“Your father and I are trying hard to balance the situation,” I explain. “Give Porter the second chance he needs to stay on track and keep you guys far away because we respect your decision. Will there be a Sunday dinner with him? No, unless you three and your spouses invite him. If that never happens, I respect that.

“That doesn’t mean that I won’t try to give him a hand,” I voice what Gabe and I have been discussing lately. “Today, I’m offering him something while I help you. If I make the call, he’s here in a few. If not, it is going to take us at least a day or two to get what you want—unless you take over.” Jacob shakes his head. We both know that right now he doesn’t have the time. Between his family and work, he’s too busy. “He’s a great musician. My four children are, because I’m that fucking good. I taught the four of you, the same way I’m teaching Gracie and each one of your children. Use your head, Jacob. Push the resentment away; I’d think you know what happens when you let that take up space in your heart and mind.”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you?” He growls at me, but instead of snapping or doing any of that crazy shit Jacob would do, he hugs me. “I’m doing it because I trust you, and because I get why you’re helping him. Make sure that Mason sends an extra agent while he’s in the studio and at Thrice.”

“The outside looks the same, but the inside,” Porter comments, walking right next to me as we head to Pria’s office. “You sure about this, Chris?”

“Can you do it?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s just recording with them and then one gig,” he confirms what Jacob told him earlier over the phone. Porter couldn’t come right away. His work hours are from eight to four and as sweet as playing guitar sounded, he had to finish his day. “If we can tackle the recordings after work, it’s doable.”