Broken Records by Bree Bennett
Chapter 28
One month, and everything changed.
Derelict Records released “The Ballad of Mad Jack” as Jack’s first single from his new album. Despite its unusual composition, the song climbed the charts faster than a spider monkey up a tree, and requests for bookings and television appearances filled Kim’s inbox until she could barely keep up.
Frank and Keith reached out directly to have a discussion about renewing Jack’s contract. With no lack of smugness, he told them he was swamped and had Parker handle their correspondence instead.
He continued to polish the album, readying it for release into the world. Lainey, Hasan, Maya, and Jack worked together like clockwork, each one supplementing the other in ideas and trust and laughter. And at the end of every session, Jack went home.
Home to his Lucy.
They made love in every room of the townhouse until they were gasping and giggling and sore. They watched old reruns and classic concerts tangled in each other’s arms, snacking on homemade cookies. They took stupidly adorable selfies and posted them on social media, documenting how their life together had become so happy.
Until one day, it wasn’t.
There was a ringing phone in the evening. A stuttered greeting. A gasp, a whimper. A promise to be there soon.
And when Jack folded his arms around Lucy and wiped the tears from her cheeks, all she could say was, “We have to go.”
* * *Hours after, Dante retrieved them from the Indianapolis airport, his eyes red-rimmed, crescent shadows curved under his eyes. He hugged Lucy first, then embraced Jack, his chest shuddering. Bittersweet warmth filled Jack’s chest. This was what family meant too. Not just loud dinners and late-night laughter, but sweet, sharp grief, clutching each other in search of love and comfort.
“Tell us everything,” Jack said as they got into Dante’s car. He sat in the back with Lucy, each needing the assurance of the other’s hands, but Dante didn’t seem to mind.
“You know how Nico is with cars,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It was icy. He took a turn too fast, and that was it. The way he ended up, his leg was crushed. And his internal injuries…” He swallowed. “He was still in surgery when I left.”
“Is everyone at the hospital?” Lucy asked, and he nodded.
“Ariana got there about an hour ago.” He shrugged, the movement dissolute and hopeless. “And now we wait.”
The drive was much shorter since they didn’t have to go all the way to Sparrow Hill, their destination being one of the city’s hospitals. They rode in silence, their abilities to speak or even cry lost to the strange purgatory of unknowing.
There was a parking garage, a lobby, an elevator, but Jack barely processed them. He held Lucy’s hand, his eyes darting to her every so often for an assessment. She was pale, but hadn’t cried since New York. He half-wished she would, to let out some sort of tension, but she held herself in a cocoon of static suffering instead.
The waiting room was graveyard quiet, filled only with the Meyer family in their vigilant watch. Lucy went to her mother, tucking herself in the older woman’s arms.
“Anything new?” he asked as Lettie approached him, curling an arm awkwardly around his shoulder in a half-hug as she tried not to squish Gianna in the crook of her elbow.
“Should be soon,” she sniffled. “The last update was about two hours ago. They’re still trying to relieve the swelling in his brain.” She shook her head, and fury rolled off her in waves. “He’s so stupid. So fucking—” she glanced over to where her mother sat, and lowered her voice, “—so fucking stupid. If he dies, I’m going to kill him.”
Jack was saved from responding to that logic by a wail from Gianna, who was not having any of this nonsense. Lettie stared down at her daughter, eyes brimming with frustrated tears, and Jack said the one thing he’d never thought he’d say.
“I’ll take her,” he offered. “Go rest.”
Lettie blinked at him. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he said with feigned, foolish confidence. “Give her here.”
Lettie stared at him as if he’d just revealed that he was part dinosaur. Then she pressed a kiss to the baby’s head and handed her over.
For the first time in his life, Jack Vincent was holding a baby. He tucked her into his elbow, hiding his shaking fingers from her mother as he shooed her away. Gianna was heavier than he imagined and didn’t feel at all like the bag of flour he’d had to take care of in high school home economics classes. He grimaced, remembering that his bag of flour had ended up in a dusty explosion on the floor of the Lexington Avenue subway, and he held the baby a little more securely.
Gianna looked at him with an unimpressed scowl, and Jack relaxed a little. Scowls he could handle. He was a scowler. His wife was a scowler. And apparently, his niece was a scowler. He strolled around the waiting room with the baby, using his footsteps to walk away his worry. He received an appreciative nod from Ben, and a small smirk from Sophia, but the love and awe reflected in Lucy’s eyes erased the last traces of baby-holding nerves. For the first time in nearly forty-one years, Jack had a real family, and if that meant carrying around a small human that had nothing in common with a bag of flour, he was ready to do it.
“Hey, Gigi,” he murmured, readjusting her until her head was resting on his shoulder. “How can you tell a tree is a dogwood tree? By its bark.”
The baby didn’t laugh, of course, but neither did he. He worked his way through his scanty joke repertoire, then moved on to a lullaby-soft version of “The Ballad of Mad Jack.” By the time Lucy joined him, he was pretty sure Gianna was asleep, if the drool on his shoulder seam was any sign.
Lucy took the baby from him and motioned toward the doors to the restricted area. A doctor had entered, and her family approached him like apostles to a prophet.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Avery,” he said, rubbing at fatigued eyes. “I’ve been in surgery with Nico.” There was a hush, a collective holding of breath. “We reduced the swelling, but he’s in a coma. His body is basically shutting down to heal. He could wake up in thirty minutes, or thirty days.” The unspoken or never sent a shudder through the room, but it was still better than a spoken he didn’t make it.
“I recommend you go home and rest,” he said. “We’ll call if anything changes.”
The rest of her family picked up coats and bags and tired feet and headed out, one by one, but Lucy stayed, frozen on a stiff, upholstered chair.
“Come on,” Jack said, kneeling in front of her, wide hands on her knees. “It’s late. Parker booked a whole block of hotel rooms for your family. Let’s head over and get some sleep.”
Lucy shook her head. “No.” Her lips thinned, and her fingers tapped furiously at her palm.
“Honey,” he said. “We don’t know if —”
“I can’t,” she bit out. Her eyes darted around the room, bouncing off every object and person except Jack. “I have to stay.”
Jack stood, reaching out a hand to swipe a tendril of hair from her cheek. She jumped, her shoulders tensing as if electrocuted. “All right, Cottontail,” he said. “Then we stay.”
Her eyes finally met his. “You can go sleep,” she whispered. “It’s fine. I’ll stay.”
He sat next to her, shaking out his coat and draping it over their legs. “Nope. We stay.”
* * *Morning came and went, and Nico did not wake up. Lettie went home to her own farm to care for the animals and wait for news. Lucy held her brother’s bruised hand and recited stories and facts about her favorite musicians, hoping he would hear her voice.
Two days came and went, and Nico did not wake up. Sophia and Elena went back to school to attend classes and wait for news. Lucy held her brother’s hand and played “Space Oddity” over and over until she fell asleep on the armrest of her chair.
Four days came and went, and Nico did not wake up. Dante and Ariana each went back to reopen their respective businesses and wait for news. Lucy sat in the hallway, rocking herself back and forth to prevent a meltdown, while inside, the nurses moved her brother back and forth to prevent bedsores.
One week came and went, and Nico did not wake up. Matteo went home to finish a job contract and wait for news. Lucy held her brother’s hand and read to him from one of his textbooks until her voice was cracking, and then past that point until she felt Jack’s hand running through her hair, gentle and soothing.
“Luciana,” he said, clearing his throat. “We—”
“No,” she said, not even glancing up at him. She brushed her hand over Nico’s knuckles, over and over, her fingers tapping at his sallow skin.
“We can be back here in a few hours if something changes,” he said quietly. “Your mom and dad are here. He won’t be alone.”
“No.” She shook her head. Her place was with her family, and her family was here, in this room, in this bed.
Jack expelled a long breath. “I’ve got two interviews in two days. And my meeting to negotiate the contract is three days after that, and another interview after —”
“You can’t miss them,” said Lucy. She didn’t look up at Jack’s silent, assenting nod, but his fingers slowed as they trailed through her hair. “You should go.”
His hand froze in place. “Without you?”
“I can fly back if you need me to make an appearance somewhere,” she said.
“If I need you to—” he stopped, stepping back from her chair, pacing across the room, his back to Lucy. His voice was forced and strange when he spoke again. “What if I just need you?”
Lucy faltered for a moment but said nothing. Her place was with her family, and she had gone too long without them to give them up now.
“This is what you want?” he whispered, his voice sounding so much younger. She nodded. “Alright then. I’ll have Parker get me a flight. And I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
Again, another nod. She was tired of nodding, nodding, nodding, but her voice was long gone and the lump in her throat prevented even the simplest of whispers.
Jack tapped off a text on his phone, then pulled a chair up next to Lucy, taking her hand. They sat like that for several hours, Nico connected to Lucy and Lucy to Jack. Then there was a whispered goodbye, a last kiss on the forehead, and Jack was gone.
* * *Three more days came and went, and then, there was no need to wait for news. Jack felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as he returned from a radio interview to the empty townhouse. He scrolled past a text chain under the header Cottontail, past three days of unanswered texts on Lucy’s part, to a single sentence text from his mother-in-law.
ROSE: He’s awake.