Fortunate Son by Jay Crownover

Bowe

I KNEW RY was long gone before I opened my eyes the next morning. The side of the bed where he’d spent the night was cool to the touch, and I could still feel the spot on my forehead where he’d dropped a farewell kiss. He whispered his goodbye and muttered that I shouldn’t take too long to come and get the explanation I was owed.

It was confusing, but all very on brand for Ry. It was totally like him to tell me he was sorry with eyes full of sincerity, but not explain why he was suddenly apologizing or hellbent on making amends. I tried to push him on it and reminded him that I was in no mood for his games, but he evaded me at every turn. He spent the entire night and well into the early morning doing his best to keep my mind off anything troublesome. Instead, he made sure all I could think about were the things he made me feel. It was weird being in his arms again. It was strange to look at him and see both the teenager who had rocked and ruined my world, and the young man—now essentially a stranger—who held my world together for me when I wasn’t able to.

I was very conflicted over how to process it all in the bright light of day, and I was starting to struggle with a hefty dose of guilt.

It wasn’t like Aston and I were the best of friends. I didn’t have the bond with her that I shared with Remy and Daire, or even Glory to a lesser extent. But I wasn’t exempt from twinges of remorse from sleeping with Ry so soon after their breakup. I was with him right before he got with her, and now I was with him right after he left her. It was enough to make me feel like I owed the girl an apology, or at least an explanation. I wanted to defend my actions or explain them away, but I wasn’t sure there was any real justification for why Ry and I always seemed to collide in the worst ways. We were supposed to be done with each other time and time again, but it seemed like fate had different plans for us.

Like Ry said, it was a mistake we seemed bound to keep making no matter how dire the consequences.

After dragging myself out of bed and taking a much-needed shower, I picked up my phone and sent a text message to the one person who might be able to help me make sense of all the chaos I created last night.

~ Can we talk?

I got an immediate response.

~ Absolutely. Can I take you to lunch?

I wasn’t really hungry, but I appreciated the offer. I didn’t really want to try and figure out a new life plan while my room still smelled like sex and Ry Archer.

~ Sure. Just tell me when and where.

A couple minutes later, the name of a cute little brunch spot within walking distance of my house popped up on the screen. I replied that the place she suggested was fine and agreed to meet up in a half hour. I used the time before I left to brush my hair, get dressed, strip my bed, and toss everything in the washer. I battled back and forth with myself over sending Ry a text message. Knowing him, he was planning on driving straight through to Denver again, and I wanted to know when he made it home safe. In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to message him, so I compromised and sent one to Daire. I asked her to text me when he got home and tried to subtly ask her for any hints about how he was acting once he returned. I breathed a sigh of relief when she promised she would touch base as soon as she spoke with him. She even sent a winky face, which led me to believe she’d picked up on my message’s subtext. She really was too clever for her own good.

All those damn Archers were.

I couldn’t say it to him, but there was a pretty big part of me wondering if Ry was going to turn my own coping mechanisms back on me. Things between us were still difficult, our personalities still clashed, and we still lived thousands of miles apart. Maybe it was his turn to shut me out and pretend I didn’t exist because it was easier than wading through the emotional minefield between the two of us. I hated to admit it, because that would mean I also owed him a pretty big apology, but the thought of him ignoring me and forcing me out of his life really hurt. I felt a twinge all the way down to my soul.

I popped headphones on and made my way to the café.

My mom was easy to spot. She always was. She was a beautiful woman, but more than that, she carried herself in such a refined, regal manner, it was almost like she was even more famous than my father. She dressed like she was about to take on a boardroom even when she didn’t have to work, and I don’t think I’d ever seen her wear any other type of shoes than sky-high-heels. She was also brilliant. She was a scientist—a chemist, to be exact—and annoyingly logical and reasonable about most things. She was always the one cautioning the twins and me to think things through, to plan ahead, to be accountable. No one would ever guess that she had grown up dirt-poor in rural Kentucky. Even her southern drawl had shifted, so she almost sounded like a native Texan these days.

I’d always respected the hell out of her. She raised me and my sisters pretty much on her own, with my dad being gone as often as he was. But she never sacrificed her career or her kids in the process. She juggled it all and made it look easy, which was why I hated disappointing her. I knew it broke her heart when I told her I didn’t want to go to college and wanted to pursue music instead. I wanted to prove to her that I made the right choice, but after last night, I wasn’t so sure.

She stood to greet me and reached out to pull me in a hug. She was taller than I was, made even more so by her heels. I loved how tightly she held me, kind of like I was still a little kid. Her embrace hadn’t changed, no matter how old I got or how much I grew.

“Hey, baby. You didn’t mention Ry in your text, but I was hoping he would tag along. I’ve been dying to see him.” She kissed the top of my head and gave me another squeeze before setting me away from her so she could peer at my face. Whatever she saw on my expression had a little furrow dip between her black eyebrows. “Let’s sit down and order you some food. You can fill me in while we wait.”

I sniffed a little bit, not realizing I was on the verge of tears. I sat down across from her and reached up to push my hair back behind my ear. “Did Dad say anything about the show last night? I left before I talked to him.” I was so embarrassed that he’d been there to witness my dream shattering into a million pieces.

My mom hummed a nonresponse as she picked up the glass of tea in front of her. “He didn’t say anything to me.” Her elegantly arched eyebrows lifted as she watched me carefully. “But I was also there, Bowe. You didn’t think I’d really miss your first big show, did you? I would never let something that means so much to you slide past me.”

I gulped and felt my eyes widen. It never occurred to me to ask if she was going to come with my dad or not. She was so opposed to me being a musician for a living, I just assumed she wanted nothing to do with that part of my life.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I should’ve asked you to come with Dad.” But now, I felt even worse for having a crisis in the middle of my big moment. I’d let both of them down. “Though, now I’m sorry either one of you were there. It wasn’t what it was supposed to be.”

She hummed a noncommittal response and quietly ordered both of us something to eat. After handing the menus off to the waitress, she put a hand on the table between us and wiggled her fingers until I placed my palm in hers. She squeezed my fingers and gave me a serious look.

“You know I’m not musically inclined in the slightest. That’s your dad’s area of expertise. I can tell you, as an observer, you sounded great, and everyone around your father and me loved your set. I can also tell you, as your mother, that you were struggling to get through the songs. I asked your dad what the problem was, and he told me that dreams don’t always live up to expectations when you finally reach them. He told me that it’s hard to suddenly realize you need to find a new dream, and that understanding it might also disappoint you. It’s a bitter pill to swallow.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of my hand and gave me a wobbly smile. “I bet you think I don’t understand all of that—having a big dream—and being let down by the reality of it. But I do. When I was your age, all I wanted was to go to college and get a degree. All I could think about was getting a good job and making a ton of money, so I would never, ever end up back where I was raised. It was the only thing I focused on. It was the only thing I dedicated myself to. I was living a very boring life and missing out on all the best parts of being a young adult because I was so obsessed with future and so scared of ending up back where I came from. It affected who I dated and how I treated my friends. It made me behave awfully toward your Uncle Asa, and when your dad ended up in the mix…” she trailed off and shook her head. I could see how sad the memories made her and how deeply she regretted some of her choices. “I almost ruined the best thing that ever happened to me because I refused to believe a dream could change. I hurt him and almost chased him away forever. Fortunately, your dad’s always been really good about not letting go of something he really, really wants. He made me realize it’s important to always keep dreaming. It’s when you stop that you’ve failed. He has shown me repeatedly that dreams are endless, so it doesn’t matter if one is a big letdown. He keeps making all my dreams come true even after all this time.”

I fake gagged and pulled my hand free. “Gross, Mom. That’s so cheesy.” But I couldn’t help the grin that broke out on my face. I loved the way my parents loved. It was pure and deep. It was brutally honest and raw. It was the foundation of our family.

I sighed then slumped down in my chair. “I realized too late that I made a mistake. I thought I needed to be in a band to make music and play my songs. I wanted to be just like dad, and somewhere along the line, I missed that I wasn’t making the music I wanted to make because I was trying so hard to recreate his success. I don’t know how I didn’t see it during practice or during any of the smaller gigs we played. I couldn’t feel it until someone else pointed it out.”

“Ry?” My mom tossed his name out so nonchalantly, if you didn’t know her, you would miss the sharp undertone in her lyrical voice. “He’s always been a bright boy.”

I cleared my throat and averted my gaze. “He picked up on what was wrong within minutes. I haven’t had anything to do with him in years, and he shows up out of the blue, crushes the most important thing in my life, and shatters my confidence. I don’t know how he’s always managed to see right through me, but I hate it. Hate him.” My voice trailed off as I spit out the last words.

My mom tilted her head to the side and gave me a pointed look. “You don’t mean that, Bowe. The two of you may clash, but that is far from hatred. Don’t throw that feeling around lightly. It can get you in the kind of trouble that can’t be undone.”

I blew out a breath and reached out a finger to trace a droplet of water down the side of my glass. “He apologized to me for something last night, but when I asked him what, he told me if I wanted an explanation, I would have to come and get it. Who does that? Why can’t he just say sorry and be contrite like a normal guy? I don’t know if he apologized for messing with my head, which messed with my show, or if he was saying sorry for some stuff that went down between us when we were younger. He never makes anything easy. He also left this morning, so you won’t be able to see him. Lucky you.”

My mom laughed a little as she reached out to tug on a chunk of my purple hair. “Like father, like son. Archers don’t have ‘easy’ in their vocabulary, baby. You and Ry go way back. And now that you’re both older and wiser, you’re going forward. You’re growing up and maturing; that goes for your feelings and the situations you’re going to find yourselves in, as well. As for Ry seeing through you, boys pay attention to what matters most to them. They can see things no one else can because they watch differently.”

“You’re making excuses for him because he’s your best friend’s son.” I scowled at her as she continued to smile at me.

“No. I’m explaining how he is because he’s my best friend’s son. And because I know he’s a good kid. I like him. And I’ve always liked the way he looks at you. He watches you in the right way, baby.”

I groaned and brought my hand to my face so I could hide both my blush and my surprise. “Good Lord, Mom. You are in fine form today.” She didn’t usually speak so emotionally. She was all about facts and figures and rarely seemed in touch with feelings.

She laughed again and nodded at the waitress who dropped plates full of food in front of us. I thought I wasn’t hungry, but as soon as I smelled bacon, I was ready to eat everything in front of me.

“Are you mad that my first show might be my last? I left school to get up on a stage, and once I was there, I quit all over again. I wanted to prove that’s where I belong, so you don’t have to worry about me so much all the time.” I popped a piece of hash brown in my mouth as my mother took a second to deliberately pick her words.

“I’m not mad. I wasn’t mad when you decided to leave school. I was worried. I will always worry. I want what’s best for you. I want your life to be easier than mine was. I want you to succeed and feel accomplished. And I know from first-hand experience how hard the life of a musician is. The highs and lows are extreme. No mother wants their child to suffer, but they also don’t want to be the person holding them back from their dreams. It’s a fine line to walk, and I’m sure I have leaned a little too far in one direction with you.” She put her fork down and looked at me with serious eyes. “I want you to know I trust you to make the best choice for yourself, Bowe. And the only way I’ll be disappointed is if you give up and refuse to keep trying. You’re tougher than that.”

Was I? I guess I was about to find out.

“What do you think I should do next?” It might seem odd she was the parent I went to for this kind of advice, but my mom was the one who would give it to me straight. She was the one who never beat around the bush or played nice with the truth. She told it how it was, but with a motherly spin that always softened the blow. My dad tended to be gentler and a bit more indulgent. He would encourage me to the end, even if it meant I ended up spinning in circles and not getting anywhere.

“First, talk to your bandmates. Explain where you’re at and give them the respect they deserve after relying on you. They might not be who you’re supposed to play your songs with, but they got you to where you are now. You owe them an honest explanation.”

She was right, and that was definitely at the top of my to-do list.

“Once you do that, then I’d go get that explanation Ry owes you. Make him explain himself. I think you need to hear what he has to say so you can decide if it’s going to change the way you feel about him or not.”

I gasped and looked at her with a shocked expression. “Are you serious?” No way was I expecting her to tell me to go after Ry.

She shrugged and went back to eating. “You have to figure out how you feel about a lot of things right now. Music is only one part of that equation. I might not be your daddy, but I am a woman. I know good and well your songs are about someone special, and I’ve always had a pretty good idea who that someone is.”

Damnit. Why did I have to be surrounded by smart, observant people? Here I was thinking I’d done such a good job hiding all the confusing things Ry Archer made me feel. Turns out I was always transparent instead.

I turned the idea of going to Denver after Ry over and over in my head and was kind of surprised that I didn’t immediately freak out over the idea. I narrowed my eyes at my mom and pointed my fork at her. “You’re supposed to be the reasonable parent.”

She grinned at me and pointed her fork right back at me. “You can’t always follow what your head tells you to do. Sometimes you have to let your heart lead the way.”

That’s what scared me. Because my heart had always only pointed me in one direction: toward Ry.