I covertly watched Sebastian taking us all in. I knew we were a little much for some people, but if he was going to be a part of my band, that meant he would also become a part of my family. He’d be in and out of this house all the time, so I didn’t feel any reservations about giving him both barrels up front. If he couldn’t handle it, then it was better to find that out now.
On his other side, Gina glowered at a short stack of pancakes on her plate. More specifically, at the anemic drizzle of syrup her mother had topped them with. As I watched, the moment Marilyn turned to Little Ben to cut up the food on the tray in front of him, Gina snagged a syrup carafe that sat providentially in front of her, and began dousing her plate. Generously.
Without thinking, I put a hand on Sebastian’s arm, and when he glanced over at me, I dipped my head toward Gina. There was no way I could stop her from where I sat without causing a scene, but I didn’t want her to get in trouble for adding a little more syrup, either. To my delight, without a word, Sebastian reached over and covered the little girl’s hand with his own, adroitly removing the carafe and setting it on the table between him and me. Gina, the little barnacle, smiled brightly at him, her big eyes wide with feigned innocence.
“Oh, hi there! Nice day for pancakes, isn’t it?”
Across the table, Jordan guffawed, and elbowed Tom, echoing Gina’s chipper tone. “Nice day for pancakes, right, Campbell?”
Tom grinned at my brother, and then at me, and bumped his foot against mine under the table companionably. But there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, too, and I found myself inwardly cringing, just the tiniest bit. I didn’t know if I could handle another six weeks of his resigned smiles, his wistful eyes, the whole tragic hero thing. Especially now that things seemed to be blossoming so quickly between me and Sebastian, as fickle as that made me sound.
In fact, the more I thought about it, the more it started to bug me. One of the things I loved about Tom was his sense of self. He carried himself with dignity and quiet confidence. On stage, his wild side came out to play, but in the normal, everyday stuff, he was everything a best friend should be. Steady. Generous. Patient. And he had a good head on his shoulders when it came time to pick his battles. We liked to argue, but it was never really serious. I knew if he dug in his heels about something, it was for a good reason, and argue though I might, I’d give in to him eventually because I trusted him to make the right decision for us.
Maybe that was it. I trusted him. I trusted him to choose the right thing. I trusted him to be secure in himself and in his decisions.
And this hang-dog look in his eyes didn’t line up with the Tom I knew and trusted.
But how much did I owe him in the name of friendship? Did I owe it to him to let him stare longingly at me, without checking him on it? To let him kiss me whenever he wanted to? Did I owe it to him to pretend that I wasn’t at all attracted to Sebastian until after Tom had moved? Because I was. And I had been for a long time. Just sitting beside Sebastian had all my senses heightened. My hand still tingled from holding his while we prayed, the tips of my fingertips buzzed from brushing his arm to get his attention a moment before. What if Sebastian asked me out before Tom left town? Did I have to say ‘no’ to him?
“Whoa, girl! Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” Nothing like heading off to the races.
I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud until Sebastian shifted to look at me. Thank goodness I had a naturally quiet mutter.
“What was that?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Talking to myself.” Heat rose in my cheeks and I prayed Tom wasn’t still watching me. I was beginning to feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.
Beneath the table, Tom nudged my foot again, trying to get my attention. I took a large bite of egg casserole and lifted my gaze to meet his. “You going to practice more today?” he asked, looking back and forth between me and Sebastian.
I nodded, my mouth full. Actually, I just assumed we were, but I hadn’t asked Sebastian how long he could stay. When I invited him over to jam, I hadn’t planned on our time being shared with the whole gang and heaping piles of food. But before I could swallow my bite, Ben spoke up.
“So, Sebastian. What do you think of our little sister?”
I rolled my eyes and swallowed quickly. “Wow, Ben. Nothing like a little pressure-free conversation to break the ice.” I knew what he was doing. Of all my brothers, Ben was the most parental. Twelve years older than I was, he took his birth order pretty seriously and was the self-appointed leader of the Ransome pack. Most of the time, I was little more than a camp follower to my brothers, but by golly, I was their camp follower, and they would know the intentions of any who might have designs on their territory.
Ben was thirty-three, or “weally, weally ode” according to Gina. He and his wife, Marilyn, had been married almost ten years, and with Gina and Little Ben, they were a perfect family picture. Marilyn and Ben were good for each other, and they made marriage look good. She kept him organized, and he reminded her how to have fun. Of my four brothers, only Jordan still lived in town, but Ben and his family lived several miles up the freeway and were close enough to visit at least once a week.
Eric had just turned twenty-nine last month, and lived in Texas. He was an airplane mechanic for Southwest Airlines. We saw him several times a year, since one of the perks of his job was free hopper tickets when seats were available and deep discounts if he had to buy a ticket. He’d been dating the same flight attendant for almost a year now, the longest he’d ever been with a woman, and we were pretty sure we’d all be flying to Houston for a wedding soon. Honestly, though, I thought she was as stereotypical as they came, and I dreaded having to spend the next thousand years sharing holidays, birthdays, and vacations with her. But Eric had always had a weakness for women who didn’t like to think for themselves. It was probably a good thing they didn’t live close. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep my thoughts behind my teeth if I had to spend much more than a few days at a time with her.
Kyle, who was still in school to be a Physical Therapist, was only fifteen months older than Jordan, and Mom liked to tell me that she’d decided she was done when Jordan came so soon after Kyle. “But God had other plans,” she’d say with a tired laugh. It used to make me feel just the slightest twinge of guilt, but now I only had the deepest appreciation for the woman who poured so much of herself into raising the five of us.
They named me Titia, which meant “joy,” because I’d been born just after sunrise after a very long and difficult labor.
“Weeping may endure for a night,” Mom quoted. “But joy comes in the morning.” She claimed the verse from the Psalms flashed across her mind when the doctor held me up and said, “You have a beautiful baby girl.”
I was glad it did. They’d been so sure they were having another boy, and the only name they’d picked out for me was Elijah Logan. Not a name that could easily be tweaked for a girl. Well, Logan might have been a cool name for a girl; I was still considering it for my own daughter. Someday. In the far, far future.
Ben had his eyes fixed on Sebastian, and turning to Jordan, I silently pleaded for him to step in. Jordan just grinned and shrugged, leaving me—and Sebastian—to our own devices.
“Nice, Ben. How is he supposed to answer so vague, yet so loaded a question? At least ask him something more specific. Like what he thinks of my band, or my clothes, or my freckles.” I’d grown to embrace the liberal smattering across the pale skin of my nose and cheeks, but old habits died hard, and I couldn’t help wondering what other people thought of them. I nudged Sebastian with my knee. “You’re not obligated to respond to anything, by the way. He’s just showing his big brother colors.”
“Actually,” Sebastian interjected before I could protest more. “I think Tish is extremely gifted. Pretty amazing. She has far more talent in her little finger than anyone else I know.” He shot me a quick half-smile, and then turned back to Ben. “And more specifically, I really like her band and I’m honored to get to be a part of it.” He held up a hand and began ticking things off my list on his fingers. “I think she dresses pretty cool, and the freckles?” His half-smile became a full-on, teasing grin. “They make me want to break out a black marker and connect the dots.”
I had just taken a drink, and the gulp I inhaled had me coughing and spluttering beside him. Everyone around us was laughing—except for Tom-of-the-Sad-Smiles—and Sebastian grabbed my glass before I spilled it. Gina scrambled from her seat and began pounding on my back with both fists.
“Heimwich Mover! Heimwich Mover!” she cried out gleefully.
Little Ben banged encouragingly on his highchair tray with an open palm, sending bits and pieces of egg and pancake scattering. My mom, sitting on the other side of him, grabbed his wrists and began clapping his hands together instead, effectively distracting him from making an even bigger mess.
Which was a good thing, because Marilyn had lurched out of her own seat and scooped up Gina, tucking her back into her chair with orders to stay put until Grandpa excused her from the table.
“But I was saving Tiss’ life!” she declared, making it clear to all by her expression that she was deeply offended about her heroic efforts being aborted.
“You did save my life, Gina,” I gasped, leaning forward to give her a grateful smile around Sebastian. “I might be dead if it weren’t for you and your quick thinking.”
Gina grinned, exonerated, and dug into her soggy pancakes with gusto.
Sebastian, I noticed, looked a little taken aback by the upheaval. He grimaced at me—I think it was supposed to be a smile—apology warm in his eyes. “Sorry. Are you okay?”
I couldn’t tell if he was trying not to laugh, or trying not to cry. “Thanks to Gina, yes. But you, mister,” I punched him in the bicep. “You are going to pay for this.”
Sebastian clutched at his arm and frowned a little, but the smile returned quickly. “Then you’re not firing me today?”