Page 41 of Rescue

“Is she still in Detroit?”

Haylee nods. “Yeah. I send her money, of course, but…” She shrugs. “She doesn’t really do much these days. Turns out she was more interested in trying to find me a career than finding one of her own.”

I try to choose my words carefully. This is obviously a touchy subject for her, no matter how casual and unconcerned she tries to keep her tone. “A lot of people think that about my dad. That he’s just demanding and constantly driving us for his own sake. They don’t see how much he cares about all of us—”

“Then your dad is nothing like my mom.” Her voice is tight, but she offers me a quick, small smile. “Change the subject?”

“I… Sure.”

I catch sight of Paige down the hallway, waving at us. “Ready for some lunch?” she calls.

“How much you wanna bet she makes us eat haggis?” I ask Haylee in an undertone. She smirks and starts off down the hall. “Come on, Ransome,” she calls over her shoulder. “Don’t be a chicken.”

As I follow her I pass by one of those carnival mirrors, the kind that stretches out your face to the edges of the glass. I catch sight of myself as I pass, and I have the feeling my smile would have been that huge regardless of the mirror.

***

Paige doesn’t make anyone eat haggis. Instead she finds us a comfortable restaurant just off the Royal Mile where we eat fish and chips washed down by ice-cold hard cider. It’s one of the nicer lunches I’ve had in a while. Haylee sits on the other side of the table, a few seats down, and while I would have liked the chance to talk to her more, I can’t complain given my view of her. Even better, though, is my brothers’ moods. Everyone enjoyed World of Illusions, as Paige knew we would, and conversation flows freely between the two bands as we eat. Cash and Daltrey tell the others about some of Paige’s more off-the-wall destinations on previous tours, and they, in turn, tell us familiar horror stories of traveling by van to dive bar after dive bar. There’s a lot of laughing around that table.

And no one looks at me strangely. That’s the best part. I don’t say much, happy to sit back and follow the conversations around me, and no one seems to think it’s weird. No one seems to think they should be worried about me. It’s almost like things are normal.

I kind of wish lunch would never end.

Paige’s next stop is a tour of a local whiskey museum. “I picked this just for you, Cash,” she tells him sweetly as he slings an arm around her shoulder. “So be nice about my outings, or next time I might not be so considerate.”

“You really straddle that line between sweet and terrifying, Paige, did you know that?”

She nods seriously “It’s one of my gifts.”

The whiskey museum turns out to be a hit with everyone. The guide teaches us about the different whiskey regions in Scotland. “The Islay region produces a whiskey that is much more peaty than its compatriots,” he explains, handing out a chunk of peat moss for us to pass around and smell. “In contrast, you’ll see that whiskies from the Lowlands have much fruitier notes.”

“Now I’m always going to be picking up notes of dirt in my whiskey,” I hear Layla mutter as she passes the moss off to Haylee.

“Like your whiskey ever sits in a glass long enough for you to pick up notes of anything,” Haylee says.

After the lesson, they bring us to what is billed as the world’s largest collection of whiskey, where Daisy gives Cash a stern warning against touching any of the decades-old bottles of priceless liquor. The museum experience finishes with a completely cheesy, Disney-wannabe, dark boat ride through the process of brewing. There’s even a cartoon ghost narrating the ride. Daisy and Paige giggle at the ridiculousness, but Daltrey and Cash both declare the whiskey museum totally awesome and Paige and Daisy too ignorant of good liquor to know better.

When Paige announces dinner reservations followed by a ghost tour, our numbers start to diminish. James, Lance, and Layla all decide that they’re tired of sightseeing. “Really?” Paige asks, crestfallen. “But we’ve barely gotten started.”

“Sweetheart,” Reed says, wrapping an arm around her. “You’ve had us going since ten this morning. Not everyone has your stamina.”

She pouts, but it’s Daisy who gets really upset when Daltrey suggests they go back to the hotel to rest.

“What do I need to rest for?” Daisy asks.

“Babe, you’ve been on your feet all day.”

She crosses her arms, a clear sign of danger. “So?”Drop it, man, I try to silently communicate to my brother. But he presses on, and I realize Daisy was right. He is an idiot. “You’re seven months pregnant,” he says, his voice just a shade too condescending. Daisy’s face reddens, another sign of danger.

“Let’s go say goodbye to the others,” Paige says quickly, and we all scurry after her to the street. Behind us I hear Daisy start in on Dalt. “Are you under the impression my pregnancy is some kind of illness, Daltrey?” I shiver a little at the anger in her voice.

“He should have dropped it the second she crossed her arms like that,” Reed says, and I nod.

Out on the pavement we say goodbye to Lance, James, and Layla. I’m more than a little pleased when Haylee tells her friends she’ll stay with Dylan and the rest of us. They’re a few feet away, but I can tell even from here that James doesn’t approve. When Haylee crosses her arms, I stifle a smile. Apparently James didn’t learn from Daisy’s warning signs.

Once Daisy and Daltrey (very red-faced and sullen) join us, we grab a quick dinner before heading for the ghost tour. “What exactly is involved in this, Paige?” Levi asks.

“I’m not telling.”