To Cherish and To Hold (Love of a Rockstar #1.5) (8 page)

He slipped off the headphones. “Hey.”

“Hey. My grandmother is upstairs and wants to work on the seating arrangement for our wedding.”

“Can it wait? I’m busy.”

“I’m afraid not. She’s a very determined lady.”

Luke met my smile with a grimace. He unhurriedly unplugged his guitar from his amp and gestured for me to lead the way.

Halfway down the hallway, I looked back and joked. “We should have eloped instead.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

The detachment of his voice caused a pit of despair to form in my stomach. Did my one mistake ruin the future of Mrs. and Mr. Anderson?

M
y grandmother and Nil sat on the floor, playing with Nil’s latest obsession, her dollhouse. Miniature furniture decorated the carpet, as did miniature people, clothes, and accessories. My mother had gone slightly overboard on the presents to her granddaughter. Although, the dollhouse did retain Nil’s attention for hours.

“Mom, I’m going to help you plan your wedding,” Nil said.

“That’s great, sweetie.”

Luke shoved his hands into his pockets, mouth grim. He could at least pretend as if he wanted to be here. My family rolled in gossip like pigs in mud. If they sensed the slightest wink of distress, it would be broadcast across the phone lines from the east coast to the west coast. My grandmother whispered something in Nil’s ear. She giggled and offered her pinky. They shook on whatever deal they hedged.

“You two,” Grandma pointed to Luke and me. “In the kitchen.”

“Why?” My arms crossed in defiant stubbornness. “I thought we were going to do the seating arrangement.”

“Marlene, don’t test me.”

She was bossy before she escaped on her honeymoon but she’d returned as a Russian dictator. Stomping into the kitchen, I plopped into a seat at the table. Luke did the same. Neither of us wanted to be there and I took a small inkling of solace in that.

My grandmother folded herself into the chair. “You can’t go into a marriage with unresolved issues. They will fester into resentment so start talking. What happened?”

Luke and I shared a glance, neither one of us willing to spill the beans on our private matters.

Luke sighed, irritated. “This is considered a hostage situation.”

“I don’t see any ties or ropes binding you to the chair,” she said. “You are free to leave.” As Luke began to do exactly that, she spoke. “But if you disappear into that dingy basement, consider that your first step to divorce.”

Dramatic, but it worked.

Luke sunk back into his chair, which gave me hope that this issue between us could be repaired. Although, I wished he didn’t have to be threatened to do so.

To lighten the tension, I cracked a joke. “Since when did you become Dr. Phil?”

“I have more wisdom in my left pinky toe than that bald headed quack does,” she sniffed.

“He has a PhD in clinical psychology,” Luke pointed out.

My grandmother levered a stare at him that could make a grown man cry. “I have a PhD in life and that is far more valuable than any fancy-ass paper embossed with gold lettering.”

Luke shut his mouth real tight and dropped his gaze to the white tabletop.

Satisfied, she folded her hands neatly in her lap, slipping into the role of a dignified woman. “ Now, who wants to go first?”

“Grandma…”

Ignoring my warning, she swiveled her head over to Luke. “You look like somebody pissed in your tea, so if I had to guess, Marlene did something to warrant that.”

“Hey!” I said, offended. “Maybe it was his fault.”

My grandmother arched an eyebrow. “Was it?”

“No, but it could have been. Luke isn’t a saint either.”

He scoffed. “I’m more of saint than you are. You haven’t gone with me once to the homeless shelter to give out food.”

“I went with you last year for Christmas. Don’t tell me you forgot that too.”

He straightened in his chair, ready to tangle. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“The garbage, your socks and underwear littering the floor—should I go on?”

My grandmother whistled loudly, putting an end to our futile argument. Luke and I glared at each other across the table.

“This hurt you are both experiencing isn’t about mundane house chores,” My grandmother assumed correctly. “It’s about something that cut to the core.”

The number one rule about pregnancy was that you don’t tell anybody for at least ten to twelve weeks, when the risk of miscarriage drops. If my grandmother found out, so would my mother, which would incite a barrage of unwanted advice and meddling. However, if by some miracle my grandmother could patch the hairline crack that had formed in our foundation, I would do just about anything.

Sighing, my gazed centered onto his face. “Can I? If not, then that’s fine but I don’t see the harm in it besides fueling the gossip mill.”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

Irritation at his childlike behavior simmered through my veins. When comparing his fuck up to mine, his won. Competing in the comparison game though was equally as childish.

I turned to Grandma. “You have to promise not to freak out.”

Her fingers swept in the pattern of
cross my heart and hope to die
.

As I opened my mouth to speak, Luke beat me to the punch.

“Marlene is pregnant.” As pissed off as he was at me, the note of pride in his tone couldn’t be dampened.

My grandmother squealed, then, remembering her promise, bounced silently in her seat while she golf clapped. I couldn’t help but laugh at her infectious joy.

“Oh! How exciting. This is wonderful news,” she cooed. “Another child. What a blessing.”

“It is a blessing but unexpected,” I said.

She waved my statement away with a flick of her wrist. “Pish posh. Life is unexpected, but it works out in the end.”

Her positive attitude used to annoy me as a teenager but as a grown woman, it was refreshing. She didn’t allow tragic events, like her late husband’s death, jade her. I should yank a page out of her handbook.

“Have you made an appointment to see a doctor yet?” she questioned.

“Not yet. I found out quite recently and haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Not that recently,” Luke mumbled.

Grandma’s head whipped around and she glowered at Luke.

This time, he met her stare head on. The tension skyrocketed in the room, neither willing to break eye contact. They had the stubborn gene in common.

“Ok, enough,” I smacked my hand on the table, putting an end to this madness. “Luke is pissed off because he wasn’t there when I peed on the stick, but Camille was. She knew before him which I have to agree isn’t right but at the time, I wasn’t thinking. I was freaked out to holy hell and unprepared for the two pink lines that appeared.”

“You forgot somebody,” Luke interjected.

My head titled the side. “What?”

“I said you forgot somebody.” His cutting tone slashed my heart into ribbons. “Matthew also knew about our child before I did.”

Gob-smacked, my eyes blinked rapidly. “How did….”

“He called me when I was in the basement. While we were discussing the tour, he asked if I was sure I wanted to leave, of course he realized his mistake and ended up backtracking but anybody with half a brain would know that he knows. So tell me, when did Matthew find out? Was he also in the bathroom with you and Camille, sharing in the joy and excitement?”

Luke had the ability to be a royal asshole but it had been a long time since I have been at the receiving end of it. My grandmother for once held her tongue and remained mute.

Finding my voice, I spoke. “He has a lot of experience with pregnant woman and figured it out by my symptoms. Doesn’t that say something?”

“What are you implying?”

Anger was by far the most infectious and toxic emotion. It seeped into your blood stream, riddling your body with wickedness.

My narrowed gaze matched Luke’s. “I’m implying that maybe if you weren’t so self involved with your own bullshit you would have seen the symptoms too, but then again, how would you recognize the signs? It’s not like you were around the first time.”

The screech of his chair sliding backwards was like nails on a chalkboard. He planted his palms on the table and leaned forward. Sadness no longer resided in his eyes but something far worse did. Aloofness.

“I’m done with this conversation.” A few seconds later, the basement door slamming shut rattled the house.

“O
kay, that went well,” I mumbled, sarcastically. “Piece of advice though—don’t quit your day job.”

Grandma took Luke’s old seat, which offered a clear view of the pity that lined her face. In a perfect world, the crumbling demise of my relationship wouldn’t have any witnesses. That was impossible to ask for in this family though.

“You messed up,” she stated bluntly.

“I’m your granddaughter! You are supposed to have my side, not his.”

“Yes, but Luke became family once you gave birth to Nil.”

“Fine, but to be fair he is overreacting a tad bit. I mean who cares who knows first and who doesn’t? What’s important is that we have a healthy baby.” The justifications of my actions were weak, however, I had a hard time admitting I was in the wrong.

“That’s true, but have you thought about the fact that maybe it’s not the act itself but the meaning behind it?” Grandma asked.