Beauty from Surrender (22 page)

Mrs. Porcelli continued to do all of the shopping after I moved in, so this is the first time we've been in a grocery store together. I suspect it's the first time Jack Henry has been inside a market in years, but he seems content to be here with me.

I'm reaching for something on the shelf when I feel his arms snake around me from behind. "What's for dinner tonight?"

He's obviously not been paying attention to the things I've been throwing into the cart or he'd have already figured it out. "I seem to recall you having a thing for my lasagna."

"So good, it brought me to my knees."

"It wasn't the lasagna that did that," I laugh. "But I'll cook it for you, if that's what you want."

"Yes, please. And we'll stop for wine on the way home."

I'm about to tell him no one in town carries his wine when I hear "Jolene" ringing from my back pocket. "That's my mom. I haven't spoken to her in a while. I probably should take it. She'll keep calling if I don't."

He kisses the top of my head before releasing me and I reach for my phone. "Hey, Mom."

"I was calling to check on my baby girl. I wanted to see how life on the road was treating you."

I dread this. "I'm not on the road. I'm back in Nashville."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Yes. Something bad happened. Blake Phillips attacked me last night. I got banged up a little bit, so Randy thought it would be best to cancel our shows for the rest of the week. We only had a few left anyway."

"What did he do to you?" I hear the horror in her voice.

I'm standing in front of Jack Henry in the middle of a grocery store. This is definitely not the time or place I want to have this conversation. "I'm buying groceries right now. Would it be okay if I call you when I get home?"

"No. Your dad and I are coming over so you can tell us exactly what that man did to you."

Dammit. She has a key to my apartment and I don't want her to beat me there and wander into my bedroom. I'm not sure we put the toys back in my nightstand drawer. "No, Mom. Don't do that. Why don't you wait until a little later? I'll need to put away the groceries. Maybe you can come for dinner." I look at Jack Henry and shrug. "But I have someone staying with me. Jack Henry is here."

"Your Aussie guy?"

I look at Jack Henry and smile as I answer, "Yeah, Mom. My Aussie guy." Hearing me say that makes him beam.

"And I suspect you're happy about that?" Something about the way she asks makes me think she's not pleased to learn that he's here.

Happy is a severe understatement. "I am. Very much so."

"Okay. Your dad and I will come for dinner and meet your boyfriend. What time?"

"Does six o'clock work?"

"Sure. See you then."

I end my call and look at Jack Henry. "We won't be dining alone."

He doesn't look thrilled. "I gathered as much. I knew I'd have to meet her at some point. Tonight is as good as any."

He doesn't sound thrilled, either. "What do you mean you'd have to meet her at some point? You sound like you already don't like her."

"She treats you poorly. It's been tolerable from a distance because I didn't have a choice, but now I'm here. I won't put up with anyone mistreating you, and that includes her. I don't care if she is your mum."

Geez. I'm predicting this night isn't going to go well. "It isn't just her. My dad's coming too. We haven't talked about this, but they're sort of back on again." What am I doing? This is Jack Henry. I don't have to pretend this is anything but what it is. "He's still married and they're sleeping together." It sounds so dirty when I say it and I'm not sure which reason makes it that way—if it's the married part or the fact that they're my parents.

"Perfect. Another parent to set straight. I can get them both knocked out at the same time."

This is going to be awful. "You're not setting anyone straight tonight. I want them to like you and I highly doubt they will if you tell them what shitty parents they've been."

He looks at me like he wants to argue but doesn't. "I won't tonight, but only because you ask it of me. It's gonna be hard as hell to keep my mouth shut."

"You can do it," I encourage. "I know you can. And every time they say something that pisses you off and you don't react, I'll reward you with something special after they leave."

"Bribery."

"I prefer to call it a reward system."

"Well, I do enjoy your rewards, so maybe this will work out well for me after all."

I'm about to tell him how I figured he'd see things my way when I hear the voice of a young girl. "Miss McLachlan?"

I turn at the sound of my name—my stage name, that is—and see a young teen girl staring at me. "Oh. My. God. You're the singer from Southern Ophelia, aren't you? I'm a huge fan. Can I get your autograph?"

I'm still not used to this and it's awkward. "Umm…sure."

She digs through her purse and seems to come up empty-handed. "What about my shirt? Would you sign it?"

It's not like I've never signed a shirt before, but it's usually after a concert. And it isn't being worn. It feels a little unnerving to be recognized out like this. "No problem."

When I'm finished signing, she passes her phone to Jack Henry. "Would you mind getting a picture of us?"

He pulls his hands out of his pockets and takes the phone from her. "Anything for one of Miss McLachlan's fans."

"It's the round button in the center. But I guess you already know that. I bet you have to do this all the time," she giggles.

He looks like the cat that swallowed the canary. "I take some mighty fine pictures of Miss McLachlan, if I do say so myself."

I try my best to keep from laughing at his sly remark about taking my almost-nudie pictures. He's such a naughty boy and I'll get him for it later.

"Thank you so much, Miss McLachlan. My friends aren't going to believe I ran into you like this."

When the girl is gone, Jack Henry is grinning from ear to ear. I can't help but wonder what's on his mind. "What's with the shit-eating grin?"

"Oh…nothing," he says as we begin to stroll down the aisle but adds, "Miss McLachlan."

I've never done this before, so I'm nervous as hell about it. My parents, one of whom I barely know, are going to be here any minute to meet Jack Henry. My boyfriend. The man I love. The one throwing around words like always and future when he talks about us.

I want to throw up.

I'm terrified this isn't going to go well. He already doesn't like either of my parents and I don't blame him. What if he can't keep that dislike to himself and make nice? He's opinionated and outspoken. This could be a total disaster. But even if it is, I'll still love him. This I know without a shadow of a doubt.

I reach for the lasagna in the oven and touch my inner wrist to the top of the rack above as I'm taking it out. "Shit!" My body's reaction causes me to let go of the dish and jerk my arm back. Luckily, the dish of lasagna survives, but I've burned the piss out of my wrist.

I run to the sink and immediately run cold water over it to stop the burning process as Jack Henry streaks into the kitchen. "What happened?"

"I burned myself. Rookie mistake."

"Let me take a look." Ah, the doctor is back. How nice to see you, Dr. McLachlan. It's been a while. I pull my wrist from the cold water long enough for him to examine it. "It'll be fine. Where are your zipper bags? I'll make an ice pack for it."

"Cabinet to the right of the stove."

He bags up some ice cubes before wrapping them in a dishtowel and passing it to me. "I'll get the lasagna out. You hold that ice over your burn."

I sit at the table so I can be worthless. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do after you've slaved in here all afternoon. Do you need me to do anything else?"

I glance at the clock. "It's almost six. Will you put the bread in the oven? I already have it on the pan."

"Anything for you, Miss McLachlan."

"You enjoy that, don't you?"

"What?" He says it so innocently, but he knows what I mean.

"Calling me Miss McLachlan."

"I certainly do. It's good practice."

Good practice for what?

A knock sounds at the door and I'm instantly annoyed because I want to know what he means. I'm tempted to tell Jake and Jolene to hold up a minute because I need to get to the bottom of this. Of course I don't, but it's a topic I plan to revisit later when we're alone.

I get up to answer the door. "Here we go. Remember to be nice if you want your reward later."

"Yes, ma'am. Your caveman is going to make you proud."

I give him a quick kiss. "That's my sweet boy."

***

I stand in the living room and wait for the recipients of the World's Worst Parents award to come through the door. This is going to be hard as hell to get through without opening my mouth—I know things about Jolene Prescott's past that the rest of the world doesn't, including Jake Beckett. I only have one reason to look these people in their faces and not tell them they're assholes: Laurelyn.

As I stand there waiting, I realize Laurelyn has never shown me a picture of her mother. Without much thought, I always envisioned an older version of Laurelyn so when I see Jolene Prescott for the first time, she is nothing like I expected. She's a slim, attractive blond but looks nothing like Laurelyn. Her father, on the other hand, is a different story. Laurelyn is the spitting image of her father. I don't think a father and daughter could look more alike. He marked her well, which is ironic, considering he hasn't had anything to do with her for the last twenty-three years.

I can't let myself go there or I'll be telling these people off, so I shove the thought aside as Laurelyn introduces me to her parents for the first time. Polite introductions are made and we go into the dining room where Laurelyn has everything ready for dinner.

"You made lasagna. Jake, it's the best you'll ever have—better than any Italian restaurant. I don't know where she got her ability to cook, because it sure wasn't from me."

I know where she learned. While her mother was high and passed out, she was a little girl learning how to fend for herself.

Laurelyn looks at me and I'd almost think she could read my mind if I didn't know better. She taps the top of my foot with hers and gives me that look, the one that says, Stop it right now. God, how does this woman know me so well—like she can read my every thought just by the expression on my face?

I bite my tongue to prevent it from rattling off what I really think. "Yes, ma'am. She's an excellent cook."

Laurelyn tries her best to keep the conversation light, but Jolene manages to steer it toward the assault. There's nothing Laurelyn can do to stop it. "I want to know what happened with Blake Phillips. Why did he attack you again?"

Again? This wasn't the first time? Well, that's something we'll be discussing later.

"Blake came to see Randy about bringing us back to Nashville to record a single. He was in the room when I showed up for the post-show meeting. To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the century. We argued about recording the song and I left. I had no idea he followed me to my room and when I unlocked the door, he grabbed me from behind and forced me inside."