This Could Have Been Our Song!: A coulda woulda shoulda ballad Read Online Free Page B

in a much better mood than I am, talking to Nella on his cell phone. We’re having lunch downtown; my treat. It’s the least I can do after he’s letting me stay with him and Nella for as long as I need.
    “ I miss you too, love. Say hello to your mother for me,” he tells her then winks at me. “Marcus and I will behave. I promise.” He laughs; I’m sure at my expense. “Gotta go. Marcus is getting antsy. I love you.” Then he hangs up.
    “ How long will she be gone for?” I ask him. “And I’m not antsy.” I take a sip of my drink. Toronto has decent ales but nothing beats a good one from home. “I’m just displeased.”
    “ Bollocks! You’re pissed off,” he shouts. We share a knowing look. “And with good reason.” He takes a bite of his burger. “Or not?”
    “ I have to work with an amateur songwriter producer, Johnny. I don’t do teamwork. What do they say here? There’s no I in team? Well, I’m the I.” I drink more of my ale. “Now I have to break it to Matt; that’s not going to be pretty. You know how he is.”
    “ He’s a wanker; a real one. And you’re a good friend,” he says. “Look on the bright side; you met Charisma and you’ll get to see her again.” He smiles. “I meant Lucia.” He takes another couple of bites. “Just before she cuts your balls off.” He grins at me. “She just seems like the type to do such a thing.”
    I can ’t help but grinning at that thought too. This reunion would be very entertaining. It’s too late to ring her now. In my defense, I really thought she would have been part of this morning meeting. Does she even know what’s going on?
    “‘ Head to Toes’ was a good song. It went Platinum,” John says without a trace of humor. “Twice. Nella used to hum it all the time.”
    “ I guess.” I wave to the waitress. “Could we please get the bill? Thanks.” John looks surprised. “My treat. That’s the least I can do for letting me stay with you.”
    “ Don’t mention it, ever really. Nella thinks you’re paying rent,” he jokes. “But you barely touched your food.” He leans the table. “Can I get your fries?”
    “ Suit yourself.” I give him my plate. “I don’t have much of an appetite.”
    The waitress comes back with the bill and I give her my cre dit card without looking at the amount. It’s a nice pub and reminds me of Manchester. Home. Maybe I should just go back to London then spend a couple of weeks in Manchester with the family. I’m dreading the next few weeks. John has a point, though; a pissed Lucia doesn’t seem like someone you would like to be around. And she’s going to be pissed.
    “ Thanks. They have amazing fries here,” he says.
    “ Johnny?”
    “ Yes?”
    “ You really think she’s going to cut them off?”
    John bursts out laughing. “And feed them back to you, mate.”
     
    I spoke to my parents after my lunch with John. Mum, as usual, caught me up on my dad’s latest inventions. I’ve been only gone a week and he’s already found a hobby.
    “ If it keeps him busy, I’m not complaining,” Mum said.
    “ But really, Mum? Greeting cards?” I inquired with a sneer. “You’re family doctors; I’m the writer of the family.” I think it sounded whinier that I had intended it.
    “ Cushion, what’s wrong?” she asked.
    “ Nothing. I just miss you guys. I was supposed to spend spring with you, not in Toronto.”
    “ I know but work got in the way. It’s fine, Cushion. Just take care of yourself.” Mum is the only person who still calls me Cushion, and Beesly sometimes.
    I asked her to send some of my dad ’s greeting card samples; should be fun to read. After we hung up, I wondered what she would think of me if I told her the whole story about Lucia. I would not be the good-hearted son she knew and loved anymore. All that sneaking around and back-stabbing wasn’t me at all. I’ve never needed to do that to get a contract before. People usually chase me, not the opposite.