Author: Olivia Cunning

“So the baby survived?” she asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

Isaac nodded. “There was another woman in the village who had lost her baby to cholera, so she took the newborn as her own. I wish I could have saved the mother too, but the crocodile had done too much damage to her spine, and I lost her on the table.”

Rebekah’s vision blurred with tears. “That’s so horrible,” she said. “And you. You are absolutely wonderful, Isaac.”

A sudden intake of breath alerted her to Eric’s presence. He looked like someone had punched him in the stomach. “Eric,” she said. “Come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

***

Eric had wondered who the too-attractive-to-be-believed man was. Rebekah was hanging on his every word like she’d been struck dumb by his charm and charisma. When she’d said his name—Isaac—and called him absolutely wonderful, Eric was certain his soul had been sucked from his body. And now Rebekah wanted Eric to meet the guy? No, thank you.

“I was looking for the can,” Eric said. A lie, but he in no way wanted to be anywhere near Dr. Perfect over there.

“I’m sure you can hold it for a minute,” Rebekah said. She hopped off the stool and took his hand before he could flee the kitchen.

“Eric, this is Isaac. A dear, dear friend.”

Isaac looked none too happy to be called her friend. Eric extended his hand. “I’m Eric, Rebekah’s very possessive boyfriend.”

Isaac’s eyes widened.

“And lover,” Eric added. “We get it on constantly.”

Isaac’s tan face paled several shades, but he took Eric’s hand and shook it cordially.

“Eric,” Rebekah chastised. “There is such a thing as need-to-know information, and that definitely wasn’t it.” She giggled, but didn’t deny his claim. Eric felt marginally better.

Rebekah’s mother bustled into the kitchen. “Rebekah, help me mash those potatoes,” she said. “Isaac, would you get the roast out of the oven? I need to get the biscuits in.”

“Sure.” Isaac put on a pair of oven mitts and headed for the oven.

“Can I do anything to help?” Eric asked, his heart thudding. Rebekah’s mother scared the shit out of him.

“Don’t be silly. You’re a guest. Go sit down with Bill and Dave until dinner is ready.”

“Isaac’s a guest too,” Rebekah reminded her mother.

Mrs. B offered Isaac a one-armed hug as he struggled not to drop the roast. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rebekah. Isaac is family. Just set that on the stove, dear.”

Isaac set the roast on the stove.

Eric watched Rebekah drain the potatoes and start whipping them with a mixer. Mrs. B cut biscuits from dough and arranged them on a baking sheet. Isaac took it upon himself to carve the roast. They did look like a family. Something Eric had never had, but had always wanted. He wouldn’t be getting one now either it seemed.

Dave bumped the door open with his wheelchair. “Come on, Sticks. I need help setting the table.” Dave pulled plates and bowls from a china cabinet and set them on his immobile legs.

Eric smiled, grateful for a task.

“David Adam Blake, don’t ask Rebekah’s guest to do your work,” Mrs. B said.

“I don’t mind,” Eric insisted.

“Go sit down in the living room,” Mrs. B said.

Eric had no choice but to obey.

Father Blake, or Bill, as he insisted Eric call him, looked up from his war movie when Eric sat in the empty recliner beside him. “Did you get shooed out of the kitchen?”

Eric nodded. “Apparently I’m a guest, but Isaac is family.”

Bill chuckled. “Isaac is family.” He patted Eric’s forearm. “Great kid. He’s a doctor, you know.”

“Yeah, Reb mentioned that.”

“He just got back from Africa. He said taking over his father’s practice could wait a year. Wanted to go where people needed him most. You don’t come across many men as selfless as Isaac in this day and age.”

True, but Eric still hated him.

“Dinner’s ready!” Mrs. B called.

Eric rose to his feet. Mrs. B steered him to the end of the table. “Guests get the seat of honor,” she said.

Eric sat at the far end of the long table, and Bill sat at the opposite end. A chair had been removed from the side of the table to accommodate Dave’s wheelchair, and his mother sat beside him. That left Rebekah and Isaac to sit next to each other. The dinner was delicious, but though Eric ate everything on his plate, he scarcely tasted it.

Everyone was so enthusiastic for Isaac’s tales of Africa, which were amusing and heroic. Eric couldn’t deny it. He felt like an unwanted outsider. Rebekah scarcely glanced at him the entire meal. She was too busy laughing with and fawning over Isaac, who was so fucking charming, it was nauseating. When Isaac started passing around pictures of himself treating the sick and wounded in some village in the Congo, Eric said all the appropriate things, but his heart sank. How could he compete with that? He’d never done anything remotely honorable. After dinner, Mrs. B brought out a cheesecake smothered in cherries.

“I know it’s your favorite,” she said, beaming at Isaac as she served him a huge slice.

“You’re spoiling me,” he said, his knockout smile charming even Eric.

Fuck. The guy could at least have the decency to be ugly or stupid or boring. Something!

“It’s the least I can do for our heroic, life-saving physician.”

“Seems to me Isaac isn’t the only lifesaver at this table,” Dave said. He grinned at Eric, who shook his head slightly, not wanting to bring up his little attempts at CPR.

“Oh yeah?” Isaac questioned, looking genuinely interested in what Dave had to say, the bastard. It was really difficult for Eric to maintain his hatred for the guy. “What happened?”

“Eric saved two lives this year alone,” Dave said. “One of them mine.”

Eric stared at the slice of cheesecake in front of him and speared a cherry repeatedly. “It was nothing. Anyone would have done the same.”

“That’s not true,” Isaac said. “Most people look the other way when someone is in trouble, even if they’re capable of helping. They just… don’t.”

Eric poked at his cheesecake, trying hard not to feel pride due to Isaac’s words.

“Who else did you save, Eric?” Rebekah asked.

“It was nothing,” he said again.

“Trey,” Dave said. “He had a seizure, and Eric kept him breathing until the ambulance arrived.”

“How have I not heard this story?” Rebekah said, glancing from Eric to Dave, then back to Eric.

Eric shrugged. “Trey doesn’t like us to talk about it.”

Rebekah leaned closer and whispered, “And I thought I was witness to the first time you locked lips with Trey.” She giggled and squeezed his knee under the table.

Eric stared at her with wide eyes. He prayed no one had heard her little aside.

“Who’s Trey?” Isaac asked.

“Sinners’ rhythm guitarist,” Rebekah said.

“Sinners?”

“Yeah, Eric’s band. Sinners.”

“So you’re in a band? Like a local band or what?” Isaac asked in all seriousness and took another bite of cheesecake.

Rebekah laughed and hugged Isaac’s arm. “You’re so sheltered! One of the most famous drummers in the world is having dessert with you, and you’re totally clueless.”

“This guy’s famous?” Isaac asked, eyes wide with wonder. “Should I be asking him for his autograph or something?”

This caused Rebekah to laugh even harder. She released Isaac’s arm to hold her stomach. “Stop. You’re killing me.”

Eric thought he was the only one capable of making her laugh that hard. Apparently not.

“So you’re a rock star? For real?” Isaac asked. “How’d you meet him, Rebekah?”

“Dave was Sinners’ soundboard operator. When he got hurt, they let me fill in until he’s back on his feet.” She realized her slip a second too late. Her eyes widened, and she whipped her head around to look at her brother. “Oh Dave, I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean…”

Dave just smiled. “It’s okay. I’m hoping they might take me back before I’m literally back on my feet.”

“Are you up for touring again?” Eric asked. “You know how grueling it can be.”

Dave nodded. “I’m hoping when you go back out in January that I’ll be ready to take over most of my duties. Well, those I can do in my chair. I don’t think I’ll be walking that soon and won’t be all that helpful at assembly and teardown. I’ll do as much as I’m able to though.”

“Don’t rush yourself, son,” Bill said. “You can stay here with your mother and me for as long as necessary.”

Dave and Rebekah exchanged glances and then smiled at their mother.

“I like to work,” Dave insisted. “I really miss it. And the guys. I miss them too. How are they all doing?”

“Great!” Eric said. “Me and Reb signed them all up to volunteer this Thanksgiving at the homeless shelter. I can’t wait to tell them.”

“Awesome. I’ll be there,” Dave said. “I can’t wait to see them again. And I really can’t wait to go back on tour.”

“Whenever you think you can handle it,” Eric said with a smile. It was great to see Dave doing so well.

“But… what about me?” Rebekah asked.

“Reb, you knew your work with the band was temporary from the beginning,” Dave said.

She ducked her head, looking entirely defeated. Eric didn’t want her to leave, but when Dave was ready to return to work, she’d have to. And then she’d be here with Isaac all the time, while Eric was on the road.

This entire situation sucked.

“I don’t like the idea of you on the road with all those sinful, dirty rock stars in the first place, Rebekah,” Mrs. B said.

Eric’s hackles rose. He had the sudden urge to hit someone.

“As you’ve told me every other day on the phone, Mother,” Rebekah said. “Give it a rest.”

“Is it safe?” Isaac asked, glancing at Eric out of the corner of his eye. “They wouldn’t hurt you, would they?”

Rebekah rolled her eyes. “The guys are great. All of them. I had a bit of a rocky start with Marcus, but things are going perfectly now.”

“Did Marcus give you a hard time?” Dave asked.

“At first,” Rebekah admitted. “We’re good now. We’ve come to an understanding. He’s stopped trying to sabotage my soundboard, and he even gave your notebook back to me.”

“What? I’m so going to kick his ass,” Dave said. He chuckled. “Well, maybe I’ll have Eric knock him down so I can roll over his fuckin’ ass.”

“David Adam, watch your language!” Mrs. B said.

“Sorry, Mom,” Dave said sheepishly.

“Is everyone finished?” Mrs. B asked.

Eric was so ready to leave it wasn’t funny. He stood and picked up his plate. “I’ve got dishes.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Guests don’t do dishes,” Mrs. B said. “Rebekah, get the dishes.”

Rebekah stood to obey her mother, scraping plates and stacking them.

“Why don’t you help her, Isaac?” Mrs. B smiled fondly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Eric watched Isaac and Rebekah clear the table, his heart aching. They were so comfortable with each other, sharing quiet words and laughs. He had no doubt it was common for them to be domestic. Like a couple.