Breaking Her Bad by Michelle Mankin

 

 

 

 

 

Claire

“Oh.” I stopped short just outside the door to Kyle’s room. I’d forgotten about my mom returning to work today.

Standing in the hall, her eyes grew as round as mine. Unprepared for my abrupt stop, Kyle ran into me from behind.

“Claire Finch Walsh,” my mom screeched. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Um, leaving my boyfriend’s room after having sex with him.” Caught off guard, I blabbed too much information, and my eyes started to water.

“Oh shit.” Kyle’s placed one hand on my shoulder. Leaving his belt unbuckled, he extended his other hand toward my mom. “Kyle Murphy. Nice to meet you, Mrs. Walsh.”

“You’re the boy who sang with Claire in Lakeside.” Mom stared at his hand like it was a foreign and offensive object. “But you’re not from Lakeside, are you?” She raised her gaze, and it was full of accusation.

“No.” He let his hand drop.

“This,” she looked Kyle up and down, wrinkling her nose, “is the boy who’s kind, gentle, and protective?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said, and the hand Kyle had on my shoulder flexed deeper into my skin.

“The one you’re not dating but having sex with lives here at Footit’s with his uncle, the new busser.” Her voice rose higher. “Bob’s nephew is the one you care about?”

“I care about Claire too, Mrs. Walsh.” His voice deep, Kyle placed both hands on my shoulders, grounding me when I wanted to fly away.

“Kyle is all those things, Rachel.” Addy appeared at the end of the hall and moved toward us. “So is your daughter, but I think you know that.”

“You knew about them?” My mom waved her hands wildly at Kyle and me, then glared at her sister. “And did nothing?”

Addy shrugged. “What would you have me do? Kyle’s a good guy.”

Both Kyle’s hands spasmed on my shoulders. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who recognized his worth.

“And he and Claire are good for each other,” Addy said.

My mom’s gaze narrowed. “How can you be so sure?”

“I can’t be a hundred percent sure.” Addy pursed her lips. “No one can. You don’t get high percentages in relationships, only in strong liquor.”

Chuckling at her own pun, she was the only one. The mood was too heavy for jokes.

Addy narrowed her gaze on my mom. “I’ve met Kyle, talked with him, seen him with Claire. I also see how Kyle is with his uncle. He’s dedicated to his family. Dedicated to your daughter.”

“Is what she said true?” Mom asked, her gaze shifting to Kyle.

“Yes, Mrs. Walsh. Or at least I try to do the right thing whenever possible. Your daughter is worth every effort. She’s an amazing woman, so far above me that I need wings to reach her.”

My mother’s expression lightening, she nodded.

“Kyle is Collin and Miranda’s son,” Addy said softly.

My mother gasped and swayed, but her sister steadied her. It was a role she seemed accustomed to, and relying on Addy was something my mom had obviously done in the past and returned to doing now.

Mom stared at Kyle, her eyes huge. “Your father and mother died when you were ten.”

“Yes, that’s correct.” Kyle nodded grimly.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” My mom’s eyes filled. “Your dad was a good guy, a great one before . . .”

“Before the drugs,” Kyle said, filling in. “I know about all that. I lived through it.”

“Survived it, you mean,” Addy mumbled.

“Yeah. It was pretty bad.”

Mom studied him, seeming to be catching up. “And now you’re here, living in the back room with your uncle.”

“We fell on some tough times.”

Addy gave my mom a pointed look. “They were living in the public housing complex north of the Ave, Rach.”

My mom winced. “That’s a horrible area.”

“It was my home for most of my childhood,” Kyle told her. “Until we lost even that.”

“You poor boy.” My mom pulled in a breath, let it out, and straightened her shoulders. “What can we do to help you?”

“Addy already gave us a place to stay,” Kyle said.

Addy chimed in. “Bob’s a great employee. Room and board come with his job.”

My mom shook her head. “I mean, what can we . . . what can I do to help you?”

Kyle’s chin lifted. “I make my own way. Always have. I—”

“They’re starting a band,” Addy said quickly. “Kyle plays the guitar like his father. Claire sings as good as you. They’re my new house band starting this Tuesday.”

My mom absorbed that news, reacting less surprised that I’d imagined. “Claire sings better than me.”

My eyes widened.

Addy lifted her hands, palms up. “I wasn’t going to go there.”

“She does.” My mom sighed. “Plays the guitar as well, and the piano beyond anything I ever did.”

I frowned, confused at how proud of me my mom sounded. “You never seemed to notice or approve of anything I did musically.”

Mom gave me a sad smile. “I noticed, and I approved. I’m so proud of you, Claire. I just wanted an easier path for you than I had. I know how hard the music business is, how destructive it can be on relationships. I wanted you to have a surer route to success.”

“You wanted to boss her into living her life the way you thought she should.” Addy cocked a brow. “Hmm, why does that sound so familiar?”

My mom folded her arms over her chest. “Because I did that with you.”

“You did it to all of us.” Addy shook her head. “Don’t get defensive. I’m older and wiser now; I know that’s the way you show love.”

“I drove a wedge between us.” My mom dropped her arms. “I’m sorry.”

“I had my part in that.” Addy’s dark blond brows drew together. “I wasn’t supportive of your marriage.”

“I should’ve tried harder to convince you that what Daniel and I had was real.”

“We lost time.” Addy drew her sister tight to her side. “We’re not looking back. We’re moving forward.”

“Right.” My mom nodded once, released Addy, and looked at Kyle. Everyone got that he was the leader. He had a presence, and circumstances had made him wise beyond his years. “So, what do you need for the band?”

I sighed. “Just about everything.”

“I have an acoustic I never play,” my mom said.

“No, thank you, Mrs. Walsh.” Kyle shook his head. “I have my dad’s.”

“Rachel. Call me Rachel. Your dad and I—Addy, Andy, Barry—we were best friends. Each other’s safe place during some really rough times. You have to call me Rachel.”

“Okay.” He lifted his chin. “Rachel.”

Addy released her sister. “So you need equipment, Kyle. Right?”

“We do. “I need an electric guitar. Tommy has a kit, and some amps. But we could use some keyboards and a bass guitar, minimum.”

“I have just what you need. Probably more.” Addy gestured. “Come with me.”

Returning down the hall, she used the key that was hanging around her neck to open a door, then beckoned to Kyle and me. “Have a look.”

Kyle paused after stepping inside. “Whoa.”

The room was full of musical equipment. There were portable amps by the wall, plus a couple of instruments in cases. Hanging on pegs as if they were works of art were a Rolando performance keyboard, a red-and-black Fender bass guitar, and an Ebony ESP in a vintage sunburst finish.

“You too, Rach,” Addy called.

My mom stepped inside the room, then stared at her sister. “Holy shit! You have all our instruments. Where did you get them?”

“Pawn shops here and there.” Addy’s blue-green eyes were bright. I got the idea there was more of a story about it than that.

My mom shook her head. I think she had the same idea. “Everything’s here except Collin’s acoustic and Barry’s drums.”

“Yeah.” Addy glanced around proudly.

Smiling at her, I said, “Cool.”

Kyle nodded approvingly. “Righteous.”

Tommy appeared in the doorway.

“Hey. What’s going on? I heard a lot of noise.” Glancing around, he raised his brows. “Wow! ABCR legacy equipment. My dad wondered where it all went.” He pointed. “Is that Collin’s guitar?”

My mom glanced at him sharply. “Who are you?”

“Barry’s son.” He held out his hand. “Tommy Evans.”

My mom shook his hand, then glared at Addy. “Barry’s back in town and you didn’t tell me?”

Addy shrugged. “I wanted to choose the right time to tell you, break all the news to you in bits and pieces. But this just goes to show you that planning and trying to control things is a waste of time and energy. Things are gonna happen as they happen. Best to just kick back and enjoy the fun parts of the ride.”