Bulletproof (21 page)

“Yeah.” Dad nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

“Her original plan was to keep this all a secret and stay with me, but my place is too small. She won’t be comfortable there.” I looked to the floor.

“Fine. She can stay here.”

“She’s worried that your disappointment will be too much to bear.”

“What does she expect me to be?”

“I don’t know, Dad.” I threw my hands in the air. “Supportive.”

“I can do that.”

“Without judging?”

He glared at me.

“Maybe I should move back, too.” I had to choke out the words. It was the last thing I wanted to do, but it was for the best. I was now jobless, so the ability to pay rent would soon become a problem. Besides, Jody needed my support, and if she was going to stay healthy, I sure as hell couldn’t leave her with Dad’s cooking skills.

As much as I hated to admit it, I knew they’d fall apart without me.

It was time to once again shelve my dreams and put my family first. I’d done it once; I could do it again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

SEAN

I sang into the mic, but my voice sounded dead. I’d been in the recording studio for just on three hours. I was tired and over it, but I couldn’t leave until I got it right.

I hit the high note with a cringe, my voice cracking.

“Shit, sorry. I just...”

“That’s okay, Sean. Let’s uh, take a break.” I glanced up at the speaker and squinted at the glass before nodding. Pulling off the headphones, I dumped them on the chair behind me and stepped out of the room.

The last thing I wanted to do was walk around to the sound desk to find out everything I’d been doing wrong, so instead I slumped onto the couch against the wall, resting my head back and closing my eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Tough day?” Ashlee’s sweet voice made my eyes pop open.

“Hey.” I grinned, shuffling over so she could sit beside me.

“Don’t worry about it.” She slapped my leg. “It’s a difficult song.”

I grimaced. It wasn’t the melody that was killing me, although after my performance today, you’d think it would be. It was the words.

“Now You’re Gone” by Basshunter. Who the hell chose that song? The writers were obviously out to get me. I nearly died when I got handed the latest script. Sasha, unable to stand Harley’s back and forth commitment, has taken a job. She wasn’t going to. She was going to stay at the school and keep training, but Harley won’t give her what she needs, so she’s splitting. Franklyn Performing Arts School without her is a lonely, torturous place.

Damn, it was way too close to the bone for my liking.

Morgan had walked out my door two months ago and yes, I’d done absolutely nothing about it. My anger had kept me silent at first, made me bubble and brew with righteous annoyance. Rhonda had talked me through it, telling me it was for the best. But with each passing week, the anger ebbed, replaced with a deep sadness I couldn’t shake.

I missed my girl.

“You’re not loving Harley and Sasha’s story at the moment, are you?”

I shook my head.

“I know it’s not my business, but you’ve been really out of sorts lately. Like, angry and sad and just not yourself. Do you need to, I don’t know, talk about it?”

“Probably.” I scoffed, shaking my head.

“It’s about that girl you were in love with, right?”

I clenched my jaw. “She dumped me.”

“Ouch.” Ashlee rubbed my shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“It was probably my fault,” I mumbled.

“How? You’re like the nicest guy I know.”

A sidelong glance at her cute expression made me grin. I licked my bottom lip and turned to face her. “She wants me to do something that could put my career at risk.”

Ashlee’s eyebrows rose. “Why?”

I shrugged. “She says that if I can’t fight for her, then I obviously don’t want her. The thing is I do. I want her...” I pinched my nose, “but I want this job too.”

“Why can’t you have both?”

“Because Travis is an asshole,” I whispered.

Ashlee snickered. “He can be, but his vision for this show is amazing and look how well we’re doing.”

“Yeah.”

“I love working with you, and this show is just...I don’t know, the dancing, the singing...I love it all.”

“Me too.” I patted her knee. “It’s awesome.”

“You shouldn’t have to give that up. She shouldn’t be asking that of you.”

I made a popping sound with my lips as Ashlee came back to the same argument I always did. Rhonda had reminded me of this again the week before.

This show meant the world to me, and I really didn’t want to give it up. Ashlee and I were the stars. This was everything I’d been working toward...and although Morgan didn’t buy into Travis’s threat anymore, it still hung over me like a storm cloud.

Morgan shouldn’t have asked me to risk it all. It wasn’t fair.

“I guess at the end of the day, if she really cared about you, she wouldn’t expect you to throw it all away. I think it’s kind of selfish.”

Ashlee’s soft words fueled my anger, making me feel justified once more. If only they could take away the sadness that had taken root inside of me too.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

MORGAN

I’d found a job. Well, actually Dad had found it for me. Derek was a friend of a friend and owned a small accounting firm in Pasadena. His receptionist was on maternity leave and he was desperate for a temp. I took it. What choice did I have? With three mouths back in the Pritchett house, we needed the extra cash flow. Jody was now six months pregnant and filling her days with part-time work at a grocery store in Santa Monica. I tried to convince her to find work closer to home, but she didn’t want to bump into anyone she knew. So instead she got up ridiculously early to get there on time and came home exhausted each night. She didn’t want to go out and do anything, so she hung around the house in a quiet stupor.

To say it was painful was an understatement.

I glanced into Grandma Deb’s living room to check on my little sister. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, her feet tucked up beneath her butt, her round belly resting against her knees. She looked beautiful. Her long, blonde curls resting on her ample breasts. She said she was starting to feel fat and clumsy, but I’d bet if she had a supportive guy sitting next to her right now, she’d be glowing. Jody’s sunshine had been reduced to a dim ray that was only just visible. It was like looking at her through a thick fog.

It didn’t help that Dad was sitting on the other edge of the couch, stiff-necked. He was trying really hard to be supportive, but every time his eyes skimmed her belly you could see a flash of disappointed sickness spear him.

I wished I could fix it, but I’d run out of words.

“So, tell me about work.” Grandma Deb pulled me back into the kitchen, handing me a knife and two Lebanese cucumbers. Of all the people on this earth, she understood me the best. I could tell by the twinkle in her eye that she was forcing me out of my disheartening situation by making me busy. She reminded me a little of Gloria Jackson. My heart squeezed as I pictured Sean’s mom bustling around the kitchen, her nonstop chatter filling the air. Would I ever get to see her again?

“Morgan, honey?”

I looked up from the chopping board.

“How’s work?”

“It’s okay.” I sliced the ends off the cucumbers and shrugged. “I’m the receptionist so I answer the phone a lot and you know, do receptionist stuff.”

“And you’re enjoying it?”

“I guess. My boss is really nice, warm, friendly...happy, so that helps.” I snickered.

“You deserve a good boss after that nutcase. I can’t believe you lasted for as long as you did.”

“It wasn’t him keeping me there, Grandma.”

Her head tipped to the side, her smile taking on a loving quality that I couldn’t look at.

I kept my eyes on the cucumbers, trying to slice them slowly and carefully. I usually chopped as quickly and efficiently as I could, but not today. I needed to keep my hands busy or I’d go insane.

“Things going okay at home?”

“Do you really need to ask?”

She chuckled. “You’ll survive this. You always do.” She patted my arm with her soft hands and turned back to the sink.

Thankfully she didn’t say more after that, and we got busy preparing lunch for the family. It was her sixty-eighth birthday today. I knew she always missed Grandpa the most on special occasions. They’d been two peas in a pod their whole married life. When he’d died of cancer three years ago, I didn’t think she was going to make it, but Grandma Deb pulled one out of the hat and refused to give in to her despair. After a few months, it was like she rose from the ashes and came out strong, volunteering for anything she could get her hands on.

“Giving out gets you through, Morgan.” She chirped that at me the first Christmas she had to survive without him. I’d found the comment inspiring and tried to live by it as much as I could. Taking care of others did make life richer...most of the time.

I dumped the cucumber into the salad bowl, tossing it through the lettuce and cherry tomatoes. Grandma scraped the feta cheese and olives from her board and went to wash her hands. I joined her at the sink, taking the dishtowel off her when she was done.

“Right, supper’s ready!” she called into the living room.

I carried the homemade pizza into the dining room and laid it on the table. Grandma followed with the fresh salad and homemade dressing. Jody held her belly as she slid into her seat and was rewarded with a loving smile from her grandmother. She reciprocated, reaching for her hand as we all bowed our heads for grace.

Dinner actually turned out to be a delight. Grandma Deb regaled us with stories from her past, including some hilarious anecdotes about Dad as a child. We laughed and whooped, forgetting all our angst. Jody’s smile was delicious as she giggled at the stories. With her belly hidden beneath the table, it was easy to pretend life was normal. Even Dad managed a few chuckles.

By the time Grandma had blown out the candles on the cake I’d made her and we’d sung “Happy Birthday,” everyone was on a high. We ate the chocolate cake in silence, and it wasn’t until Grandma started offering coffees around that the balloon popped.

“I can’t drink coffee,” Jody whispered.

“I know that, dear.” Grandma patted her hand, but it didn’t erase the frown this time. Jody stifled a yawn as she stood from the table.

“Marshall, I think it’s time you take Jody home.”

“No, that’s okay. We should help you clean up.” Jody started for the kitchen.

“You know that won’t be necessary. Morgan will stay and help me.”

Jody’s face dropped, her eyes growing wide at the prospect of being alone in the car with Dad.

“That’s okay; I can take Jody home then come back.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Grandma waved her hand at me. “Jody, you will be fine. You need to go home and rest. Marshall, you’re looking a mite tired yourself. You’re not working too hard now, are you?”

He grinned. “You know me, Mom.”

She chuckled and walked around the table to give them both a hug. In spite of Jody’s reluctance, Grandma Deb shuffled them out the door. I felt a little bad. I should be taking Jody home. I’d driven her here and Dad had met us after work. He didn’t usually work on a Sunday, but it’d been an emergency call.

I waved goodbye and forced a smile, trying to encourage Jody to relax. She returned my pleasantries with a deep frown. I dropped my hand with a sigh.

“Don’t you worry about her. It’s you who needs the break right now.”

“I’m fine.” I squeezed Grandma’s shoulder and closed the door behind her, heading into the kitchen to start cleaning up. I couldn’t believe she still didn’t have a dishwasher. We’d been trying to persuade her for years, but she wouldn’t budge.

“A few dishes never hurt anybody,” she always said.

“Put those pots down, Morgan. Let’s have a coffee first.” With a shrug, I lowered them back onto the stovetop and moved to the kettle, filling the jug while Grandma sorted out the mugs.

“So, now that we’re alone, you can tell me how you’re really doing.”

I took the mugs from her. “What do you mean?”

“Morgan, I see your pain. You try to keep hiding it and stay strong for everybody, but you can’t live like this for the rest of your life.”

I opened my mouth.

“And don’t tell me everything will be fine after the baby is born, because I know that’s not the issue. Your agony has nothing to do with Jody.”

“I’m not...” I frowned. “I’m not in agony.”

“You’re unhappy. You’re going through some kind of pain.”

I swallowed, keeping my eyes on the boiling kettle.

“It’s Sean, isn’t it? You still miss him.” Her hand gently patted my back, and I wanted to step out of her reach.

The kettle whistled, and I poured hot water over the coffee granules.

“I’m fine. That’s over. He couldn’t do what I needed. I thought he might call, try to win me back somehow, but he didn’t. That’s life. There are more guys out there. There’s... You suck it up and you move on. You stay bulletproof and nothing can hurt you.” I slammed the kettle back down.

Grandma cleared her throat and gave me a dry look as I snatched the milk off her. “You know what your problem is?”

The milk slopped out of my cup. I huffed, pinching the dishcloth next to the sink and cleaning up my mess. Without replying, I handed Grandma her coffee.

Her strong gaze remained on me, her expression unflinching. There was no getting out of this. I brushed past her, taking my coffee into the dining room and sitting down with a straight back. I held the steaming cup in my hands, the hot ceramic burning my fingertips.

“Okay, what? What is my problem?”

She slid into her place, blowing on her drink before taking a sip. Lowering her mug, she looked at me across the leftover pizza. “You harp on all the time about being bulletproof, but you’re not.”

My chuckle was dry. “I’m tough. I think I’ve proved that. There’s no way I could have survived if I wasn’t.”

“Sweetie, being tough and being bulletproof are not the same thing.”

I pressed my fingers into the mug, my jaw working to the side as I looked at the only woman in my life who’d never let me down.

“Honey, it comes from in here.” She pointed at her chest, pressing her index finger just below the locket Grandpa gave her four Christmases ago. “When you can find that place of total peace... it’s a place that’s birthed from love and acceptance...and forgiveness. When you find that, it’s like you’re titanium. Because no matter what is thrown at you or who rejects you or treats you unfairly.... All those horrible bullets that get fired your way, they just bounce straight off, because you’re okay. In here.” She tapped her chest.

I swallowed at the lump rising in my throat. I would not cry.

Grandma’s smile was soft, her eyes beaming as she pointed at me. “When you can get to that place of inner peace.” She shook her head with a grin. “You can give without feeling exhausted, and you can love without expecting anything in return.”

I took a sip of my coffee, not knowing what to say.

“And you know the best part about that?” She raised her eyebrows and I shook my head. “When someone does give back...when someone loves back...it’s like the fudge sauce on your sundae.”

I couldn’t even imagine it. Someone loving me back seemed like an impossibility at the moment. I thought Sean had finally been the one—the guy who would wipe away my string of bad choices before him.

But he hadn’t.

And unlike all the rest, I couldn’t seem to move past him. I’d never been single for two months before. It was horrible! I couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone else. I wanted Sean...but he didn’t want me, not enough to fight for me anyway.

Tears burned my eyes and I quickly blinked them away, sniffing sharply and lifting my chin.

“I don’t have time to find inner peace, Grandma. I don’t even know where to start. Jody needs me; it’s not like I can go on some retreat to discover myself!”

“Be careful there, Morgan.”

“What?”

“With Jody.”

I frowned.

“Don’t try to step in and take charge of this situation just to fill the gap. You’ll rob her of the chance to become the woman she was meant to be. And it’ll do nothing to help your heart.”

I closed my eyes, hating her words. Jody needed me, damn it! I needed her too...at least until the pain went away.

Just hearing myself think those words was like a revelation of its own. I huffed out a sigh, pressing my elbows into the table and catching my head with my hands. “It’s not just a gap I’m filling. It feels like a black vortex. If I don’t put something in there, I’ll get sucked into oblivion.”

“Oh, Morgan.”

“How do you find that peace? It feels so out of reach.” I stretched my hand across the table and clutched at thin air. “What do you do?”

“I talk to God.” She shrugged. “He’s my constant. He sustains me.”

“And He’s enough?”

“He’s enough for me.” She tipped her head, her smile soft and peaceful. “When your Grandpa died, I thought my soul would be shattered forever.” Picking up the locket, she squeezed it between her thumb and forefinger. “I had to find something to keep me going, or I never would have made it out of bed. So I got myself busy. I filled my days until I was so exhausted, I could barely see straight. I nearly drove myself into the ground, you remember, don’t you?”