“Let us pray.” Mama bowed her head and stretched her hands. I grasped a hand, while James took the other. She squeezed my hand twice as she’d done ever since I could remember. Never with anyone else, just me.
“Dear Heavenly Father, thank You for giving me the strength to prepare this food for my family. Thank You for my handsome son-in-law who takes care of his family like a real man should.”
I rolled my eyes. Sounded nice on the surface, but I knew she was throwing shade at Daddy. The man was dead, for God’s sake.
She took a deep breath. “I also want to thank You for my beautiful and smart grandbabies.”
“I not beautiful!” JJ shouted. “I hand-sum.”
“Excuse me, Lord.” Mama giggled. She never giggled with me. “My beautiful granddaughter and handsome grandson. And thank You for my child.”
Not talented, gorgeous, accomplished? She needed to take a page from my child on compliments, but whatever. I decided to give my eyes a rest before they got stuck in the back of my head. The woman was throwing the entire shade tree at me today.
“In the name of Jesus, we pray—”
“Amen!” We all joined in.
After a few minutes of eating, my husband started our usual conversation.
“How was school, baby girl?”
Bria grinned, still chewing her food. “Great, Daddy!”
James motioned her to swallow and she complied. “I’m gonna join the talent show and Mommy is gonna finish showing me how to play the guitar!”
My mother’s fork clattered against the china dinnerware. Her eyes drilled holes into me. “You’re what?”
My heart dropped. I did not want to have this conversation with Mama around. She was like the mom from The Water Boy, but instead of foosball being the devil, it was music.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, Mama, I am. Bria is a natural.”
“Babies, close your ears,” she said to my kids.
Used to our sparring, they ducked their heads and covered their ears. James, however, looked pissed.
“You want her to end up like Stanley? Your father was a natural, too. And so were you.” She waved her fork in my direction. “And look how you ended up.” She then pointed to my wine glass.
“Kids. Leave the table.” James’s voice rang clear. He helped JJ out of the seat.
JJ protested. “But, Daddy, I hungy.”
“I know, son. I’ll come get you in a minute. Count down from one hundred.”
He ushered both kids out of the way and then returned to the dining room table.
Standing by his chair, he pivoted his attention to my mother. “Daniella. You know I love you. I appreciate all that you’ve done for us, especially when we were struggling financially in the early years of our marriage. But I won’t stand for you coming down on Nik. Bria is our daughter. She loves music, and she has always had a curiosity. You remember when Bria hopped in Nikki’s lap whenever she played on the piano or crawled on top of Nikki when she strummed the guitar? If our daughter wants to learn music, then she will learn, and learn from the best.” He turned his attention toward me, his eyes blazing. “My wife.”
James and Mama had a stare down, and neither blinked.
Well, I blinked because I was a softy, and I tried and failed to hold back my tears. I loved this man. I didn’t think I had room in my heart to love him more, but there it was. The proof was in the loud kathump of my heart, the way time had slowed, and swear to God, I heard Minnie Riperton singing the la-la-la-la-la chorus from “Lovin’ You.” If Mama’s stuck-up ass wasn’t sitting there with a just-sucked-a-lemon facial expression, I’d jump across the table, strip James down, and give it to him like the kids were gone on vacation.
“Now,” he continued. “I’m gonna go get our babies, and we are going to have a nice dinner, understood?”
“Understood, James.” Mama’s shoulders stiffened. “I understand my opinion is not welcome.”
“It’s welcome, but you don’t do it in front of our kids. Especially when we’ve had this conversation before.”
I reached for my wine glass, gave my mom a victorious smile, and saluted. This time, she rolled her eyes.
* * *
After James put Mama in her place I was walking on sunshine, so much so that I was humming when I gathered the laundry to fold upstairs in our room before I went to bed.
The lights were out, save the small glow coming from his phone. That was strange; it was only just after nine o’clock at night. James usually didn’t lounge in bed until eleven.
I flipped on the lights. “Are you against light now, Edward Cullen?”
One of his hands braced his forehead as he stared at his cell. He jerked his head up, eyes narrowed to slits. “Nikki Hardt.” He spat out my maiden name. “The newest member of Tattered Souls.”
The laundry basket slipped from my hands. “I-I, that’s not true. I didn’t join the band.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too.” He rose from the foot of the bed. “When someone anonymous, probably from the PTA bunch that you’ve pissed off, sent me this email, I thought surely this is a lie. Surely my wife of ten years wouldn’t sneak around with her old band, old boyfriend,” he spat out the word, “and lie to me.” He slapped his chest.
“But then I heard the leaked song, ‘Yesteryear,’ a song where you literally moon over the old relationship with your ex-boyfriend for two verses.”
I swallowed. That song, that fucking song. I knew it would get me into trouble. And I hadn’t even written it. Trent and someone else from the label had penned the tune. They swore it would be a hit. It was a damn good song, but not worth my marriage.
“I didn’t write that song, James. And I didn’t mean any of the words. It’s just a song.”
“But you’re recording with them. Hell, I saw a fucking video with you and Trent singing to each other from a few months ago. Fuck! Nikki . . .” His voice grew hoarse. “All this time. All this time, I’m thinking you’re tired and drifting away from me, but it’s not me. It’s you.” He jabbed a finger toward me. “You and the music and that damn band.”
“Baby.” I strode to him, made him sit down on the leather footstool near the bed. My hands cupped his face. I touched my forehead to rest against his. “I’m sorry. I was scared and stupid. I didn’t think you’d approve of my joining the band. I haven’t . . . I just cut a few tracks. And, well, since I’m putting it all out there, I have a coffee shop gig.”
At the news, his head jerked away from my hands. “Damn, Nik. More lies?”
“That’s all, handsome man, I swear.”
He snorted. “It’s e-fucking-nough.” He stood again and paced the floor. “Stop with this hiding shit.”
“I-I promise not to sneak around. I’ll never lie to you again.”
“The coffee gig is fine, but . . . but you can’t see Trent again. The other dudes are fine, but Trent has never respected our relationship. He’s always tried to get in your pants.”
I slumped on the seat, my heart dropping to the floor. I’d been teetering on what to do about the band, but now that James was taking it away from me, I wanted them. I had to try. “Babe, the coffee gig is sweet, but the big money will come from the band.”