Always (32 page)

It was a nice arrangement she had going these days. She was determined to keep her schedule sane, even while recording the new album, so they did it all in her home studio. She spent her mornings alone with Grace and then worked all afternoon on the album while Meggie took the baby. She usually wrapped up the sessions by six so she could have dinner with Grace and put her to bed herself. It was a very civil and enjoyable way to make a record, he had to admit. Even better, most days she asked him to hang around for dinner after everyone went home, so he got her and Grace to himself for a few hours. Those evenings were the highlights of his week.

As he made his way through the maze of cars littering the wide drive, he looked up and was startled to see Ian coming towards him, having just left the house. An unpleasant sensation settled into his gut as he wondered why the asshole was here. Then he remembered it was Monday and he’d had Grace all weekend. He must be dropping her off. Ian was in a difficult limbo these days, nominally living in LA so he could stay close to Grace, but still working mostly out of New York. Plus, the chick he’d inexplicably
left
Justine for lived in New York. He supposed eventually Ian would have to make a hard choice, but frankly, he couldn’t care less.

Dillon raised his chin at him in that universal, marginally-polite guy greeting, intending to walk right by him without a word. But Ian stopped, eyes narrowing.

“Figures you’d be here. Again.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you all but live here. You always have.”

Dillon’s temper flared, but getting into it with this jerk wasn’t going to help the situation, so he raised his hand to back him off. “I’m here to work on her album. In her studio?”

Ian let out a dismissive snort of laughter. “Sure. It’s always been about the music with the two of you. I get it.”

“Whatever you’re accusing her of, you’re way off base. It
is
about the music.
I
happen to care about her career.”

Now Ian’s eyes flashed with anger. He stiffened and took a step towards Dillon, but he cut him off before he could carry through on whatever he was threatening. “How’s your
girlfriend
, Ian?”

His words had the desired effect, shutting Ian down on the spot. He clenched his teeth and crossed his arms over his chest, but he stayed where he was. It was Dillon’s turn to laugh.

“Yeah, you lost all rights to give a shit about who’s in Justine’s life when you cheated on her. Now, we have work to do. You mind if I get to it?”

He didn’t wait for a reply. He moved past Ian, making sure to knock him hard in the shoulder as he did. He waited until he heard Ian’s car start and pull away before he rang the bell. The last thing Justine needed was some bullshit drama on her front lawn. Meggie answered the door, arms full of baby clothes, looking flustered as she blew a short, sandy curl out of her face.

“Hey, Dillon, come on in. We just got back so it’s a little chaotic right now.”

He heard Justine’s laugh in the other room and then Grace appeared, running unsteadily towards him, her dark pigtails bouncing. She was laughing, a bubbling toddler giggle that grabbed him right around the heart.

“Dillon!” she called, hands outstretched. She’d only recently graduated from calling him “Diwon” and truthfully, he kind of missed it. When she reached him, he scooped her up and stood, swinging her high in the air. She shrieked with laughter as he spun her over his head.

“There’s my Gracie Girl! How are you today?”

“Again!” she commanded, so he swung her up again, eliciting another shriek.

Justine came into the room, smiling and leaning on the doorway, watching them.

“She’ll make you do that all day, Dillon.”

“I’ll do it all day and all night if it makes her happy.”

“Yeah, well, it’s naptime, so we’ll have to cut the playtime short today.”

“Alright,” he said, hugging Grace to his chest and kissing her cheek.

“I’ll take her,” Meggie said, pulling her free.

“Dillon play!” Grace demanded, reaching back for him.

“You get Dillon later, Gracie,” Justine said, smoothing a hand over Grace’s hair. “We’ll make him stay and have dinner with us, okay?”

“You know you never have to ask me twice,” Dillon said.

Meggie left with a babbling Gracie and disappeared upstairs. Dillon turned back to Justine.

“I ran into Ian on my way in.”

“You did?”

“Yeah. You okay?”

Her smile faded and she looked pained. “It’s amazing how fast you go from being a couple to being adversaries. Even when you try to be mature about it, there’s no way it won’t be awkward.”

“Did he say something to you?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing specific. Just little digs and criticisms. When did he become such an ass?”

Dillon chuckled. “Don’t ask me. I always thought he was.”

“You did? You never said so.”

“Because you were married to the guy. ‘Merry Christmas. And by the way, I hate your husband’.”

She laughed, a free happy sound, and he was glad to see that any unpleasantness Ian’s visit caused didn’t seem to be long-lasting. Maybe it would always be this way for them now. Short, tense interactions you tried to forget as soon as possible.

“Wait, did he say something to
you
?” she asked.

Dillon shrugged, not wanting to upset her with the details of the conversation. “Just some bullshit male posturing. Nothing to worry about. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think he likes me either.”

“No, he doesn’t,” she chuckled. His eyes met hers and for a second, there was an acknowledgment of the thing they never talked about. The thing that had always been between them, first on her side, then on his. That was what Ian sensed and hated. Dillon knew he still felt it. He supposed Ian must have known, on some level. Did he know how Justine used to feel about him, too? No wonder the guy hated him.

Justine inhaled deeply. “So, Steve and Marin are here already. Want to come back and get started?”

“At your service.”

She smirked and led the way back to the studio.

After the session musicians cleared out for the day, Meggie handed Grace back over to Justine and went off the clock until morning, even though she was never farther away than the guest house behind the pool. Dillon sat at the bar in the kitchen playing his acoustic while Justine fed Grace a bowl of pasta and chicken nuggets shaped like stars. He worked on songs for the album, and when Grace got bored, he switched over to Old MacDonald, with Justine singing all the farm animal noises. Grace was delighted and tried to sing along. It reminded him of Justine’s mom, describing Justine doing the same thing at that age.

“I need to hose her off and get her to bed,” Justine said as she unbuckled the squirming toddler from her booster seat. “I think Steve left some stuff in the fridge for us for dinner if you want to take a look.”

“Sure thing.”

Dillon poked through the fridge and found some marinating steaks and foil packets of vegetables already prepped. Personal chefs rocked.

“Excellent,” he hummed, carting it out to the grill by the pool. By the time Justine came down, he had the grill fired up and the steaks on.

Justine sighed and stretched her arms over her head. “God, that smells good,” she moaned. The sun was starting to set, turning the back yard gold with late-day light. Her hair glinted with it and her skin glowed with warmth. She looked soft and so touchable. Dillon quickly turned his focus back to the grill.

“These will be done in a minute. I poured you some wine.” He pointed to the table and her face lit up.

“Thanks. You didn’t have to do that. Especially when you don’t drink it.”

He shrugged. “You like a glass of wine at the end of the day, and I’m okay with it.”

“Mmmm,” she hummed as she took a sip. “I do. You know me so well.”

He smiled. “Yes, I do.”

“What’s this playing?” she asked, cocking her head to listen to the music coming from the portable speaker.

“These new guys I’ve been working with. You like it?”

“Yeah. You’re producing them?”

“Just a couple of songs. And doing some songwriting for their album. I think it’s going to be good.”

“It will be if they have you.”

“Cut it out,” he said softly, grinning as he flipped the steaks.

“I’m serious. You’re the name to have these days.”

“Because you gave me a chance.”

“Because you’re brilliant and you always have been. You just got a little lost along the way.”

He hiked his eyebrows and nodded. “That’s for sure.”

Justine was silent for a minute, watching him finish the steaks as she sipped her wine. Finally, she asked, “Do you miss him?”

“Ash?” he said automatically, because he knew exactly who she meant. “Every single day. Honestly, sometimes I forget he’s gone. Something will happen or I have an idea and my first thought is ‘I have to tell Ash about this.’ Hell, sometimes I’ve got my phone out to call him before I remember he’s not there. It doesn’t seem possible the world is still turning without him.”

“You seem so okay about it now, though.”

“Therapy,” he said with a laugh. “Lots and lots of therapy. Seriously, though, Keith said something to me in one of my first sessions I’ve never forgotten. I was feeling all sorry for myself and miserable and I said I was afraid I’d feel guilty about Ash for the rest of my life. I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but it wasn’t what he actually said. He looked at me and said, “You will. So you’d better learn to deal with it.’ It’s turned out to be true about a lot of things.”

“Wow. That’s hardcore.”

“That’s Keith.”

“I think I’d like him.”

“You would. I’ll introduce you some day. I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“You told him about me?”

Dillon thought about it for a moment, all the times he’d talked about Justine, how important she was to him, how he felt about her, how he handled how he felt about her…. He wanted to laugh. Sometimes it felt like she was
all
he talked about. Instead, he said, “I’ve mentioned you a few times.”

“I like his advice. If you can’t get rid of it, you need to learn to deal with it. I’ll use it.”

Dillon was silent, wondering if it was Ian she couldn’t rid herself of. It infuriated him that such a weak, unworthy piece of shit could have any hold over her at all, but he could see how she’d feel the pain he inflicted for a long time. He set her plate on the table in front of her and refilled her wine.

“You’ll get over him one day, Justine,” he said, before he even realized he’d intended to say it.

She looked startled. “Ian?”

“That’s who you meant, right?”

She shrugged and looked down at her food. “Kind of. Not like you mean, though. I mean, yeah, a wrecked marriage kind of sticks with you. But it’s weird, it’s more about the marriage failing now and less about Ian. Does that make sense? I feel bad for Grace, and what it will mean for her growing up. But me and Ian? I don’t even miss him. Not who he’s turned out to be. How screwed up is that?”

He smiled. “Not at all. It’s good you’re not still hung up on him. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

They were both quiet for a minute as they ate. The shadows grew longer as the sun sank low in the sky. The cicadas began to sing in the scrub on the hillside behind the house. A light, warm breeze blew through the bamboo bordering the patio, making the leaves rustle and whisper. Dillon thought it would be hard to be more content than he felt right in that moment. Even with his unfulfilled want, he was happy enough with what he had to not resent what he was missing. This… this moment, he wished he could bottle it.

“Did you write this one?” Justine waved her fork in the air to indicate the music still playing.

“Yeah, I did.”

“I can tell. I like it.”

“Thanks.”

“Dillon?”

“Yeah?”

“This is really nice.”

He nodded. “This is perfect.”

November, 2013

“Mr. Blackwell is now willing to agree to the custody terms set forth in the temporary separation agreement. The team will draw up the appropriate paperwork and forward it to you for your approval…”

Justine closed the email with a sigh of relief. The custody issue looked like it might get sticky, but apparently Ian had come to his senses and realized prolonging the fight wasn’t going to do anyone any good. She’d have primary custody and Ian would have regular visitations. Once the schedule was hammered out and signed off on, the last pieces of the divorce agreement would fall into place and she would be free.

She wasn’t even sure why it felt so important, but she wanted to be out from under the shadow of her marriage. In many ways, she was coming alive again, shaking off the unhappiness and turmoil of the past year. She’d put Ian to rest in her heart and now she wanted him legally settled, too.

It was after noon. Dillon and the band would start showing up soon for the afternoon recording session. The label had been remarkably chill with letting her take what amounted to the entire summer and fall to make the album. Earning them the kind of money she had meant she could usually get what she asked for, but all the same, she didn’t like wasting people’s time and money. As much fun as she’d had making the album, she was glad they were nearing the finish line.

The alarm system beeped as she was topping off her coffee, indicating someone with the code had let themselves in the gate. There were only a handful of people it could be, every one of them trusted with her life, so she unlocked the front door and opened it to let them in.

Dillon was riding up the long slope of the drive on his mountain bike, standing up on the pedals as he powered up the hill. She knew he was into biking, but she’d never actually seen him ride. He always got his rides out of the way in the mornings before he came over.

He rolled to a stop in front of the door and flashed her a grin as he panted for breath. Unexpectedly, her stomach fluttered in response, almost like butterflies. The long-dormant sensation took her by surprise and left her momentarily speechless.