#ThrowbackThursday - Loverboy

 

"Thank you," Tango said one night, a beer in his hand, Mercy's solid presence taking up most of the couch beside him. 

In the kitchen, he could hear the girls talking happily about something, the bright spill of Whitney's laughter like a gift. Aidan had taken a colicky Lainie for a walk out in the cool early spring air; the faint notes of his terrible singing voice could be heard when he passed close to the window. 

"For everything," Tango continued, quietly. "I mean, for doing what I couldn't, yeah, but for...for listening." All those makeshift therapy sessions in the apartment, Ava's baked goods, the complete and total acceptance of all the terrible stories he'd told, the lack of judgement. 

His eyes burned, suddenly. "I..."

"Hey." Mercy's huge arm went around his shoulders and pulled him in close. "I'm always here, okay?"

Tango nodded. 

"Love you, brother."

He couldn't speak for the lump in his throat, but Tango nodded again, and he hoped Mercy could read the love in it. He probably could; he was perceptive like that.

I can remember being crabby in general while writing Loverboy, but didn't put two-and-two together until after the fact that it was because the book was so very heavy. Even then, with the story fresh in my mind, I don't think I realized that it was the sort of relentless, sucker-punch story that kept layering bad upon bad, trauma upon trauma, that makes for a nervy and unsettling reading experience. Even an upsetting one. It's a bit of a shock to page back through the book now, looking for quotes, and see just how dark it is. I wouldn't change a thing, though. Tango's story is all-too-real, and the end message of hope and a positive future is one that I think is necessary for the series. 

I set the Reel for the book on Insta to "Masterpiece Theater III" by Marianas Trench, because that song has always been Tango's for me.