my car. And that’s what I enjoyed the most, how she didn’t care. That even when she couldn’t hit the high notes, she still exuded confidence.
“I love that song,” she gushed with a sigh.
“I don’t,” I snorted.
“Okay,” she drawled. “Then, why don’t you put on something you wanna listen to?”
“You don’t wanna listen to what I wanna listen to, so don’t worry about it.”
“You shouldn’t assume something like that. You have no idea what kind of music I like.”
For a second, I stole my eyes from the road to glare at her. “You won’t like my music.”
“Try me!”
Freddy groaned irritably from the backseat and Audrey turned to look at him. “Oh, does the peanut gallery have something to say?”
“Yeah,” he muttered, “pipe down.”
“Yo,” I said, glancing at him in the rearview mirror, “nobody tells me to pipe down in my car, got it?”
“Mommy, I want headphones, too.”
Audrey laughed, taking a quick glance at Jake, bopping his head to music none of us could hear. “You have them at home, honey. Remember? Daddy got you some for your birthday.”
“I want them now.”
“Well, you don’t have them right—”
I reached across her lap to the glove compartment, opening it up to reveal a spare set of headphones. “He can use those. Let him use my phone. I have all of Jake’s music uploaded on there, too,” I offered, and she gawked at me. I narrowed my glare on the road. “What?”
“You’re like, prepared for anything.”
“Yeah, have you met Jake? I kinda have to be.”
She nodded, plugging the headphones into my phone and setting it up for Freddy. “I’m just remembering when you told me your parents wanted to, um, put him somewhere, and I’m failing to understand why they don’t think you’re the best option for him. Why wouldn’t they just let him live with you?”
I grunted a reply as she handed Freddy the phone and headphones, then she asked, “You disagree?”
“Yes … no,” I shook my head and gripped the wheel tighter, “I don’t know. I don’t know what I think anymore.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I understand.”
“I’m just trying to do the best thing for him while I still can. What else can I do, you know?” And right now, the best thing for him was to see my parents and me getting along. To see me happy and doing what was best for me, while keeping him at the top of my priority list. That’s what I’d been doing all week, by booking more appointments at the shop, letting him sleep over more often, and talking to Audrey on a nearly constant basis. I had even browsed a few realtor websites, pricing a few vacant storefronts in downtown Salem. It wasn’t in the cards just yet, but I knew the possibility would become a reality once my issue of ModInk was delivered to the stands. That was only a month away and it took everything in my power not to gnaw my fingernails down to the cuticle.
With all of the changes in my life, I was seeing more of a change in Jake, too. He was calmer and a little more settled. He hadn’t had a tantrum in days, a new record for him, and I was beginning to wonder if maybe Audrey really had been right all along. Perhaps my mood really did impact him to such a drastic degree.
Hell, maybe it was a twin thing, who the fuck knows.
I pulled into my parents’ driveway and parked the car. Audrey looked out the windshield at the house I grew up in, a smile stretched across her face.
“It’s nice,” she commented. “Is your room still here?”
I shook my head. “Nah, they turned it into a den after I moved out.”
She hummed thoughtfully, pursing her lips. “I bet it was really dark and gloomy.”
“I painted my walls black when I was fifteen.”
A burst of giggles heaved at her chest as she laid a hand over her heart. “That doesn’t surprise me even a little bit.”
One side of my mouth lifted in a lopsided smile. “My mom was so pissed, she took my laptop away for a month. So, I dyed my hair black and put that tattoo on my leg instead.”
The laughter in her eyes dimmed. “You’ve always butted heads with her, huh?”
I shifted my gaze to the steering wheel, sliding my hand over the plastic. “Yeah, but mostly since the accident. I mean, we do have our good moments, but they’re kinda rare.”
Audrey sighed, gazing out toward the house again. “I don’t