Page 18 of Tangled Up In You

“Really?”

“Aye.”

He explained that the history of music was littered with the “absence of the mother,” as he called it, either by death or some sort of neglect and how it served as the catalyst for artistic ambitions among so many. He told her about how Paul McCartney, Bob Geldof, and Bono all lost their mothers unexpectedly when they were young. He went on to say that both Jimi Hendrix’s and Louis Armstrong’s mothers were neglectful and absent, leaving them in the care of family or friends.

John Lennon’s mother, he told her, had been removed from caring for him when he was five years old. Though she’d been the one to buy him his first guitar, she died in an automobile accident before they could fully repair their relationship. He had been seventeen at the time.

“Then there’s Eric Clapton,” he continued. Clapton’s grandparents acted as his parents and his mother acted as an older sister for a good part of his life.

“Every one of those artists funneled their pain, their trauma, into music,” he said finally. “And they each created something phenomenal. Something that likely never would have come to be without having suffered through the loss they had.” He paused and took a deep breath. “It’s almost like a cruel destiny that I’ve become a musician, too.”

She watched him for a long moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing. It seemed to her that he was taking comfort in this “destiny,” and she wouldn’t take that away from him.

“Who else knows all of this?” she asked, gently steering him in a different direction.

“Conor knows the most. Shay and Marty know enough. But if you’re wondering if I make a habit of telling my girlfriends this kind of thing, I don’t.”

“No, I didn’t mean?—”

He sat up. “I’ve never told a girl any of this.”

She sat up, too, and put her arm around his shoulders. “Gavin, I’m so honored that you told me. I promise I’ll only ever take care of your heart. You can trust me.”

He was slow to look at her but when he did she saw relief in his eyes. And then his mouth crashed against hers. He kissed her hard, as if he wanted to cement her promise. Or maybe it was the easiest way to stop talking about things that were hard to share. Either way, she kissed him back with the same urgency, needing him to know how much she loved him.

9

SOPHIE

To Sophie, being the center of Gavin’s attention was like feeling the sun on your skin on the first day of summer. It was a warmth that spread itself deep within you. When he took it away, you were left cold and wanting.

There was no way to predict when his mood would go dark and he’d retreat inside of himself. The first couple of times it happened, Sophie took it personally, but both Felicity and Conor assured her it was normal and temporary. They even had a code for it, calling it The Clash.

He was in one of these dark moods one day at school when he told her he was going to sneak out of early and wouldn’t see her later.

But she couldn’t just leave him be. After two and half months of being together, she wanted him to lean on her rather than retreat.

In all this time, he’d never had her come over to his house and as she neared his front door she began to suspect why. There was an argument going on. One voice was Gavin’s. The other was an older man’s.

Sophie cringed and debated turning around but something made her stay put by the window where she could see Gavin pacing back and forth in front of his father who was sitting in a worn armchair.

“Useless! Useless is what you are!”

“And what use have you ever been?” Gavin shouted back. “You sit there and pick everything apart. You condemn everything. What a miserable existence to see only the worst in everything in your life.”

“That’s the response I get from telling you to get a job? That’s the kind of help you want to be around here?”

“I’m going to school, and I’ve got my band?—”

“Stop that gobshite band talk. You know where you’ll get with that prancing around? Nowhere. Stop wasting your time.”

“It’s not a waste. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I know you’ve got to be fucking joking yourself if you think you’re going to be some big music star! You fancy yourself something special, do you? Better than the rest of us doing an honest day’s work, is that it?”

Gavin opened his mouth to respond just as he noticed Sophie standing outside. “What the fuck are you doing here?” he muttered.

He’d never been angry at her before. The scowl on his face was a cruel blow.

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