Page 18 of All the Forbidden Things
I’m still unsure of what my role should be in all of this. I’ll do everything I can to help Whitney out, but does she even want me at the hospital? Probably about as much as I want to be there. Does that make me an arsehole? Yes. No. I don’t know. Really, all I want to do is spend the day with Layla.
With a long, loud sigh, I drag my sorry arse out of bed and walk to my bathroom. I take a piss, run my hands under the tap, before turning on the shower. I step under the hot water in the hope it’ll ease some of the tension I’m already feeling, and stop my brain exploding with all of the overthinking it’s already doing. I wash my hair but can’t be bothered with shaving.
I get dressed and head downstairs to find my mum, Aaron, Mel, and Cal. Jake Wright, the band’s drummer, is also in my kitchen. He’s leaning against the worktop, legs crossed at the ankle, his arms folded across his chest. Beanie on his head, a scowl on his face.
At just thirty-years-old, Jake’s the youngest and newest member of our band. After two failed drummers in the early days, we spent eight years using session drummers before Jake sent us a demo. When we met him, we couldn’t believe the skinny blond kid standing in front of us had been responsible for the drums we’d heard played.
We hired him, and once we were sure he was gonna stick around, our marketing team decided to make a play on his surname, and instead of adding Wright to the name of the band, they changed it to Wrong but dropped the W, and so YWR was born.
All heads turn in my direction as I enter the room.
“Good afternoon, soldier,” Mum addresses me. It’s been her nickname for as long as I can remember, and she uses it so often my bandmates no longer even bother taking the piss out of me, not that they’d dare in front of my mum. She might barely stand five feet two inches tall, but she’s fearless and scared of no one.
“You wanna coffee?” she asks, as I approach and kiss her cheek.
“Would love one, thanks.”
“You sleep well? I didn’t wanna wake ya. You looked exhausted when you finally went to bed this morning.”
“I did,” I respond, at the same time looking around the room for my daughter.
“She’s in her crib. I just put her down,” Mel tells me, guessing the cause of my distraction.
I head towards Layla’s crib. Lifting her out, I spend a long few moments quietly holding her.
The room falls silent, and I turn to see everyone still watching me.
“Jake, thought you were away?”
Jake glowers at me for a beat before letting out a huff. “I was. But then I saw the news about Whit’s accident and flew home. You know, coz that’s what you do for your friends. Thanks for the heads-up, you wanker”—he turns to my mum, a cheeky smile tugging at his mouth—“Sorry about the language, Karen, but your son’s a dick sometimes.”
“What about me?” Mel asks.
Jake frowns at her. “What?”
“Why’re you not apologising to me for the language?”
“You’re married to Cal, you’re used to it.”
“Oi!” Cal chimes in. “Fuck you!”
“It was late, Jake, I knew you were away skiing and didn’t wanna spoil your fun. I was gonna call this morning.” I sit at the kitchen table, Layla still in my arms. Mum puts a coffee in front of me, and I take a sip before continuing. “I haven’t called Jay either,” I tell him, making a mental note to myself that I need to call our keyboard player.
“I spoke to Marnie this morning. Jay was still sleeping, but she was gonna let him know as soon as he was awake. She sends her love and best wishes and said to just shout if there’s anything they can do,” Mel tells me.
“Thanks,” I tell her.
“Well, thanks toyourconsideration”—Jake actually points a finger at me as he continues to rant, and I realise, I’ve genuinely pissed him off by not getting in touch—“Ifound out at the same time as the rest of the world.”
“Sorry, man, it was nothing personal. I’ve had a lot going on the last few days.”
“Yeah, I’m only just hearing about all of that as—”
“Oh, for fuck's sake. What is wrong with you? You need a cuddle, princess?” Cal opens his arms wide. Jake flips him his middle finger. Cal moves his hands to his heart in a wounded gesture and continues. “Since when have you been such a sensitive little soul? He’s had enough to deal with without having to worry about your precious feelings.”
The room falls silent. I take another sip of my coffee before turning my eyes to meet Aaron. I’ve avoided looking at him in case I read something I don’t want to in his return gaze.
I get nothing.
