My eyes slid toward my wife’s grave marker. “This is weird as all hell. It’s Allie’s birthday. I’ve ridden nearly a thousand miles to come and raise a glass to my dead wife, and her ma’s tryin’a set me up with other chicks.”
Malcom sat forward and shrugged. “You know ya mamas, Jake.” He pointed his finger at his temple and moved it in a circle. “They’re loopy as the day’s long.”
“And pie-eyed,” Dad added, nodding toward the two empty bottles of wine lined up on the grass.
“Oh, hush now, Doug,” Ma muttered. “We just want Jacob to be happy.”
“I am happy,” I assured her. “It’s just not the kind of happyyouwant. I love my life, and I love my job because I get to do things most men only dream about. After I lost Allie, I needed something more than the Air Force, and I got it with the club. Can’t that be enough?”
The moms glanced at each other.
“Ma,” I chastised gently. “You gotta let me work this out my way. I’m not averse to meeting somebody and settling down, but I am averse to forcing it with the wrong person and ending up in a worse position than I am now. If Allie taught me anythin’, it’s that life’s tooshort to waste by being caught up in something that ain’t right.”
“I just worry you’re waiting for another Allie to come along,” Jean stated.
My throat began burning like a motherfucker. “There is no other Allie. What I had with her was ours, and it was everythin’. What I get with the next woman will be ours too, but it’ll be different ‘cause again, she won’t be Allie, and honest to God, Jeanie, whoever she is, I just want her to be her...” My voice trailed off as a cool, guitar rift played over the radio and a clear, sweet, angelic, raspy, sexy-as-all-fuck voice began to sing...
Stage lights, sultry nights, halcyon ice blue.
Crowd chants, and your face haunts. Empty without you.
Lost pride, lost chance, lost love, lost souls.
Beyond my comprehension. Beyond my control.
Crowd chants, but your face haunts. I’m empty without you...
My heart kickedinside my chest.
God, I fucking hated that song so much, but at the same time, I fucking loved it.
Over the last couple of years, it had gotten more airtime on the radio than any other song. Everybody raved about it, and it had made Saint McClure, my damsel in distress from two years before, and her band famous.
“Empty” had hit number one all over the world and subsequently launched the band Saint’s Rapture into the stratosphere. The song had also won a Grammy, an AMA, and an MTV award, and had launched the corresponding album into the number one spot in multiple countries too. The lyrics were critically acclaimed, and admittedly, there was something special about Saint’s Rapture songs that buried deep, so I got it, albeit begrudgingly.
Saintherself had won writing accolades for the album, and “Empty” in particular, which not only pissed me off but also jaded me a little because how the fuck did that bitch get bestowed all the success when there were so many more deserving people out there?
Though to be fair, she was talented, I had to give her that. All the songs that came after “Empty” were just as good, and they’d turned Saint’s Rapture into global superstars. Saint was considered the leader and frontwoman of the band and the main singer-songwriter, and it was her talent that had garnered their success.
Still, I was an out and proud Saint ‘bitch’ McClure hater. Even saying her name stuck in my throat like the bitterest of pills that refused to be swallowed down.
Fuck her.
Fuck her.
“My girl would’ve loved this song.” Jean smiled, leaning back in her chair. “It’s the kind of song you and Allie would’ve danced to around the kitchen table.”
My mother-in-law was right, but still, I wasn’t about to admit it.
“Nah. Allie would’ve thought it was pretentious crap,” I argued. “And the singer’s a diva by all accounts, so she would’ve hatedhermore.”
“Saint McClure’s a diva?” Mom questioned. “She’s always seemed nice on the interviews I’ve seen with her.”
I popped open a bottle of beer, suddenly needing a goddamned drink. “The Dischordium boys know her. They run in the same circles, and one of ‘em says she’s an entitled bitch.” I took a swig and blew out a hard breath. “Fame’s probably gone to her head.”
“Or she’s a strong woman who knows what she wants,” Jean cut in. “You know how females get the short end of the stick when it comes to sticking up for themselves in the entertainment industry.”
I took another pull. “Blue reckons she’s up her own ass.”
