Page 70 of Just Between Us

Austin’s eyes are as round as my own. Wordlessly, he nods.

Realization hits that this is so much bigger than I ever imagined. “We really should give them privacy.”

Austin and I make our way back to the kitchen to help with clean up, keeping our lips sealed at what we just heard. Every so often though, when no one else is looking, he’ll mouth,daughter, to me with comically wide eyes.

Tyler is outside saying goodbye to Josie and her kids while the rest of us sit inside, restless and curious if he’ll spill it or keep it to himself. We’re a close-knit family, but everyone keeps parts of their lives private.

But when he returns to the living room ten minutes later, he sits down heavily in a chair and drops his head into his hands. I guess he’s gonna spill it.

“Fourteen years ago,” he begins, voice rough, “I came toAlabama with my roommate Jason. His cousin was graduating from the university about thirty minutes from here, and they dragged me to a frat party.”

Across the room Austin catches my attention by moving his arms like he’s rocking a baby. I roll my eyes at the same time Penny pinches him hard enough he jumps.

Tyler talks about the night with a far off look, but finally, says the words Austin and I already overheard.

“I’m Abby’s father.”

To my left, Aunt Ashley wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, so I jump up to grab some Kleenex, mind still reeling. But when I step back into the living room, my eyes land on Penny’s front door, and I think back to last month, the picture of Abby and Jay on Halloween, standing in that very spot. I’d had that odd feeling Abby favored me, but it was gone as quick as it came.

Now it all makes so much sense. Abby looks just like Tyler, who I also happen to favor, but who on earth would have thought to put two and two together? Josie is divorced from Jay’s dad. I’ve never asked many details about that, and she doesn’t share them.

I’m pulled from my thoughts when Penny lets out a long sigh.

“This won’t be easy, Tyler,” she warns. “Josie’s expectations for men are appallingly low.”

I barely hear the rest. My mind’s already running ahead to what this changes. For Josie, for Abby, and for my cousin who now has a child he never knew about. I know Penny is worried for Josie, but right now my concern is for Tyler. He’s loyal to a fault. I just hope Josie doesn’t break his heart.

We’ve all parted ways, and I’m unwinding with a glass of red when I glance to check for messages one last time. Still none from Liam, only random texts with Black Friday coupon codes.

Pulling up our text thread, I begin to type:

We were right. Tyler and Josie already know each other.

The text shows as delivered, so I wait. One minute. Two. Five minutes pass with no response. No read receipt, no text bubble to show he’s typing.

Without thinking I type out another: Will we ever be okay again?

I stare at the text a good thirty seconds before I begin deleting. Patience, Cassie. That’s what he needs right now. But I miss him like a physical wound.

Happy Thanksgiving.

There. That’s enough for him to know I’m thinking of him. Before I hit send, I add in a turkey leg emoji to keep it lighthearted. Setting my phone on the coffee table, I pull a blanket up to my chin and close my eyes, falling into a wine-induced sleep.

“Let’stake it from the top of the bridge,” Penny says through the talkback, the song coming to a screeching halt.

This is our fifth fucking take on this song. Five. And today the weak link is me. I’ve played sessions where we laid down a track in one go, and we were out the door heading home. Today I can’t get through a simple melody.

Dad glances at me from over his drum kit, one brow raised in a silent question. I attempt a half-assed smile.I’m fine. Everything’s good.Then I tuck my fiddle back under my chin.

We reach the start of the last verse when it happens again. That same damn note. It lands sour, wavering between sharp and flat. I try adjusting the bow to bring it back on pitch, but that only drags my timing a quarter beat behind the rest.

The up-and-coming country singer we’re recording with casts me a wary glance then looks over to Penny in the sound booth.

I could blame it on the long day we’ve had, but that’d be a bald-faced lie. My head’s just not in it today.

Penny’s voice comes through the monitors again, interrupting the song. “Stop, stop, stop.”

The room falls silent as the instruments stop for the sixth time now. In case anyone is counting. I sure as shit am.