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He nods, thank fuck. He still wants me in his life. Standing, he tells me, “I’ve got to go. We’ve got flights to Vegas and helicopter transfers booked.”
I grin, standing with him. “Whose copped for that lot?”
“Jackson. He gave me the credit card. No limit. He loves it. Tries to make out to Mum he’s bothered, but he isn’t. We’re meeting some of his army mates while we’re there.” I see the eighteen-year-old boy appear again. Thank Christ.
“Well, I’m going to Kasey’s.”
He laughs, “Old folks home. Enjoy.” The cheeky shit. He holds out his hand for me to shake and I just stare at it. It has a slight tremor to it, so maybe not as practised as he thinks he is. I grasp his hand and pull him towards me, wrapping him in a hug. “I love you, James, my son.” I whisper in his ear. “I’m sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry.”
I feel him nod his head against me. “It’s sorted, Dad,” he whispers back into my ear and kisses me on the cheek. I close my eyes, never has a kiss meant so much.
Thank fuck.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Evie
I am a wreck. My sons are in Vegas on New Year’s Eve.
They’ve sent pictures of themselves running down the side of some building, and in casinos with piles of chips. I laugh at that one and show Jackson, who is now going between green and a weird shade of grey and back again. I stop laughing, however, when James sends me a picture of Bucky outside a wedding chapel with a group of girls who look as drunk as he obviously is. In fact, all of them have a girl on each arm and are forming an orderly queue.
I start screaming for Jonno to do something, like cut off the power to Vegas, to stop them getting into that chapel. My brothers are in hysterics as I call and call Bucky and James.
Jonno shoves a very large whiskey into my hand and says, “Drink that, Grandma.”
“They better not have gotten anyone pregnant,” I tell him.
“I’m talking about Pinky,” he laughs.
“Pinky is the least of my problems,” I groan.
“Oh good, glad you think that. ’Cos she’s gone over to Marshall’s and is enticing Crockett into action. Thought you might need that before we go and try to get her back.”
“Where’s Tubbs gone? I thought she was a one stallion woman?” I laugh.
“Nope she’s bored of Tubbs and moved on to Crockett. I hope Marshall doesn’t have any other 1980’s named Stallions. She could be there a while.” Jonno grins at me.
“Marshall is stuck in the eighties, so I suppose there’s a good chance.” We both laugh as I slam the whiskey back like a shot and say, ”Let’s go.”
After a heavy night of whiskey, which I think may have hallucinogenic properties, chasing a pink pony around a stable yard, then beating Marshall at cards at his kitchen table, I stagger back home to bed and crash, sleeping until after 2 p.m.
“You bothering with food today?” Jackson asks me, coming into my room.
“No,” I croak out, “and don’t mention it to me, Jax. I’ll be sick.”
He laughs, “Marshall’s brought his famous hangover cure over, come get some''
Errrrr. I’m hanging, big style. I wander downstairs and sit like a shaking white marshmallow in the corner. Grunting in people's general direction.
“Did they get married?” I ask the room at large.
“No marriages,” says Jude, grinning at me. “James and Kellen made up, though.”
“Marcus, Jude. James and Marcus made up.” I curl my lip, and crack open an eye. “Well done them. I’m staying out of it. No involvement. None. I don’t want to hear anything about him.”
“So you don’t want to know what happened at that party then?” he says, bringing up the internet.
