The drummers heart, p.26
The Drummer's Heart, page 26
I heard a collective series of gasps. One of them probably came from me.
Holy crap. Definitely hadn’t seen this coming.
Tristan smiled. “Emily and I are not only here visiting, we’re house hunting.”
“Are you serious?” I finally managed to say.
He nodded. “Moving our operations to the East Coast will make things easier for everyone.” He turned to Ronan. “I’ll let Ronan speak for himself regarding his plans, though.”
Ronan stood and cleared his throat as Kenzie blew him a kiss. “As you know, Kenzie and I will be taking a trip this year, but what we haven’t told you is that we’ll be traveling around the country in a van—and living in it. My girl has always wanted to experience more of America, and what better way to do that than together? We also plan to film a lot of it, documentary style.” He smiled over at her. “Don’t worry. It’s a damn nice van with many amenities. But after we come back at the end of the year, we, too, will be moving to New York, not only to be closer to Tina and the boys, but to you guys.”
My eyes met Tristan’s. I knew him like the back of my hand, and I knew he loved L.A. He was making this sacrifice for me, even if he’d made it sound like an easy choice for the band. His doing this made it easy for Ronan to follow suit, which was a good move for him, especially since Kenzie didn’t want to live in L.A., away from her family long term. My man was sacrificing his life as he knew it for his two best friends. And I loved him for it.
“Well, this was unexpected,” I told him as I approached.
“I know. But it’ll be great.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re really okay with this?”
He nodded.
I pulled him into a hug. “I love you, man.”
“I love you, too.” He patted my back. “Don’t forget—it all started here on the East Coast. Why not end it here, too?”
***
After everyone left that night, I turned on the electric fireplace for Nicole and me so we could decompress after the party. Christian was snug like a bug in a rug in his new bedding, and Nicole had managed to get Adele down after a feeding.
It was one of those rare moments of peace that you never took for granted as a parent.
“Well, today was certainly chock full of excitement.” She kicked her feet up on my knee.
Leaning my head back against the couch, I sighed. “I can’t believe how well everything is coming together. I feel so damn blessed.”
“Me, too. Emily is really excited about moving here. I was glad to hear that because I know she liked her marketing job. But apparently, she has some leads here that seem promising.”
I shook my head. “I still can’t believe he made that decision. He’s making it seem easy, but I know it was a sacrifice.”
“You’re blessed to have true friends, you know. We both are.”
“Yeah, they’re family at this point.”
She smiled. “I agree.”
I noticed Nicole was holding an envelope. “What’s that?”
“Well, you’re never gonna believe this…” Her mouth curved into a smile. “It’s a letter from Mimi.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
She handed it to me. “Look at the front.”
To be given to Nicole and Atticus after I pass away, was written in cursive.
“Where did this come from?”
“My mom gave it to me before she left tonight. You know how she stayed at Mimi’s to clean up after the funeral, even after we left?”
“Yeah?”
“Well, Mimi left my mother all of her jewelry. Mom didn’t actually open the jewelry box to go through it until the other day. And this letter was inside.”
“What do you think it is?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I have no idea.”
“Let’s see. Open it,” I urged.
Nicole took a deep breath and removed the letter from the envelope.
Dearest Nicole and Atticus,
If you’re reading this letter, it’s because I am no longer here. It’s being dictated to Fiona, who is assisting me with writing it as my penmanship is not what it used to be. I’ve instructed her to leave it with my jewelry for safekeeping.
I want you both to know that I promise to watch over you, if that is at all possible from wherever I am now.
I am forever indebted to you both for coming together to spend those two weeks with me earlier this year. I know that wasn’t easy for you.
You had your reasons for lying to me. I imagine you didn’t want to hurt me by admitting the truth. But I am stronger than you think. Or I was while I was alive. (I keep forgetting I’m supposed to be dead as I write this. Ha!)
What does pain me, however, is knowing that two people I love very much had lost their way. I don’t know what happened, but it had to have been something terrible to rip two people who were meant to be together apart.
My dears, I may have been old, but I wasn’t completely deaf. The whispers. The not-so-quiet arguments. The strange people turning up at my door. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought I’d died and woke up in an episode of As the World Turns. (That show was before your time. But it was a soap opera I used to like to watch.) Both of you need to promise never to go into acting, because you’re terrible at it.
I never told you I knew because I wanted to hear it from you. After all, if you’d gone through all that trouble to hide your separation from me, I needed to give you some credit for that. As you know, I tried to hint at my suspicions, but you chose not to tell me what was going on. That’s okay. It was none of my business.
Nicole, anytime you came to visit for the past few years, I could see something very wrong in your eyes. They’d lost the light they always had. Any time I asked about Atticus, you wouldn’t even look at me. I worried that it had to do with your marriage, even if you insisted Atticus was merely on tour.
And, Atticus, my boy, it was so very unlike you not to visit me for so long. Not even on Christmas? I’d long suspected there was more to it than your career, which surely allowed more breaks than you let on. I hold none of this against you, as I imagine the pain of whatever you two have been going through superseded all feelings of obligation.
Despite not understanding everything, I felt in my heart that true love would always prevail. I wanted to see how you would handle it if I requested that you both stay with me. I hope the time together helped you realize that not all was lost. That maybe someday you can find your way back to each other.
I’m sorry if it’s jarring to realize you didn’t hide things as well as you thought. Most of all, I’m sorry you two have experienced the misery of being apart from the person you love. I could very much see that you both still love each other.
All I can say is, you must have loved me very much to go through all of that just so I didn’t have to feel a fraction of the hurt you did. Thank you for giving me the gift of getting to see two of my favorite people together again for what I believe was probably the last time.
I love you both so very much.
By the way, no one ever said love was easy. Just because you hit some roadblocks doesn’t mean the road is closed forever. I hope it doesn’t take you a lifetime to figure that out. When you get to be my age, all you have are the memories of the people you loved. Material things don’t matter. Nothing else matters.
I will end this letter by telling you I had a very vivid dream last night. I’ve dreamed about your baby before, and it happened again. I mentioned this once to Atticus, who seemed uncomfortable when I brought it up. But it’s been a recurring dream since then. In the past, I hadn’t been able to make out whether it was a boy or a girl. But this time she told me she was a girl—black hair and looks just like my Nicole. But funny thing, she said her name was Adele, and I argued with her. “That’s not your name. That’s my name!” I told her.
Then she told me it was okay to come home, that she’d watch over you. I know it was just a dream, but it gave me some solace anyway.
Dreams are funny.
So is life.
Till we meet again, my darlings.
Love, Mimi
P.S.: Don’t hate me. The chicken and dumplings were horrible.
* * *
Did you miss Tristan and Emily’s age-gap love story with a massive twist? Read on for a sample of The Rocker’s Muse.
CHAPTER 1
EMILY
Maybe I should just leave.
In the middle of the California desert, this lone building seemed so out of place. Even so, the one-level, earth-toned structure almost blended in with the natural surroundings. This was definitely a place you went when you didn’t want anyone to find you. There was a small lot behind the building with several high-priced cars parked, but literally nothing else in the vicinity for what seemed like miles.
I felt the pressure of knowing I was about to be kicked off the premises as I wandered around, attempting to peek into windows. Then out of nowhere, a door opened. A man wearing all black came out.
Trying my best to seem casual, I cleared my throat. “Oh, hello.”
“Are you here for the interview?” he asked.
Interview? “Uh…” Clearing my throat, I straightened and lied, “Yes.” What are you doing, Emily?
“Well, then you’re late.”
“I’m…so sorry. Traffic.”
“Well, that’s typical of L.A., isn’t it?” He chuckled. “I instructed the agency to have you call me when you got here. I was just coming out for a smoke, but since you’re here, we can get started.” He turned back toward the door. “Come with me.”
Letting out a shaky breath, I followed him inside. We passed a door that said Control Room, and I could hear the distant sound of drumming and cymbals coming from somewhere in the building.
“I’m sorry for having to drag you out to the desert for this,” he said as I scurried behind him. “But I needed to be here while the band is recording their new album, and figured I’d kill two birds with one stone by having the candidates come out here. We don’t have a ton of time to fill this position.”
He wore a T-shirt with the name of the band on it: Delirious Jones. They were popular these days after some of their songs had gone viral. They’d been around for a while but had only seen real success in the past couple of years. Their music was definitely rock, but usually described as modern, post-grunge.
I continued my ruse. “The ride out here was no problem,” I assured him. “Once I got off the highway, it was quite scenic.”
The man brought me into a kitchen with a vending machine. He pulled out a chair for me, and then sat on the other side of the table. He held out his hand. “Doug Elias, by the way.”
I took it. “Nice to meet you.”
“Did you bring a resume?”
Uh. No, considering I’m not supposed to be interviewing for a job today. I rubbed my palms on my thighs. “No, I’m sorry.”
“Let me check my email. Maybe the agency sent it over.”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. They said they would.” Gazing out at the desert through the window behind him, I prayed I didn’t get myself into deep shit.
“What’s your name again?” he asked.
I could barely remember it. “Emily Applewood.”
He scrolled through his phone and shook his head. “No. I don’t see anything.”
I straightened and lied again. “That was a misunderstanding, then. I would’ve brought it if I’d known you didn’t already have it.”
“No worries.” He crossed his arms and settled into his seat. “Well, I guess start with your background. What experience do you have?” He opened the notes app on his phone.
“I’m…in between jobs at the moment. I recently graduated from Nevada State University with a degree in communications, but I haven’t really figured out what I want to do with it yet.”
All of that was true, at least.
For the next several minutes, I rambled about my experience interning for a TV station in Las Vegas. I didn’t even know what the hell I was interviewing for. But at least I had hands-on experience with something I could talk about.
“What makes you want to work for the band?” he asked.
What have I gotten myself into? I had nothing. I’d barely heard their music—other than one song on YouTube I didn’t remember the name of.
When I didn’t say anything, he tried again. “What’s your favorite of their songs?”
Shit. My face felt hot. I couldn’t name a single one. “Honestly, I’m not a fan,” I confessed. “Unfortunately, I can’t name one of their songs. I just thought this would be a good job opportunity for my own personal growth, a chance to experience something new.” My face had to be red right now.
He grimaced. “How do you not know even one of their songs?”
“Just not my personal taste.”
The man scratched his chin. “Well, usually my biggest issue is having to weed through the groupies for these types of positions, but this is sort of the opposite problem. Can’t say I’ve ever encountered it before. Could be a point in your favor, but I’m not sure I should be hiring someone who isn’t familiar with them at all.”
Scrambling for something, I shrugged. “Does anyone really know them? They just think they know them, right?”
“I suppose you have a point.” He typed something into his phone. “Anyway, what questions do you have about the position?”
“I’d love to know more about the specific responsibilities of the job.”
Like…please tell me what the job even is.
“Well, you’d basically be a lackey for lack of a better word. You’d be fetching whatever the band and crew needs, assisting with loading and unloading stuff at each location. Anything and everything, really. This is definitely not for someone with a big ego. You can’t be afraid to get your hands dirty. And it would be a lot of work and a true commitment since you’d be on the road for several months.”
I gulped. “On the road?”
“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes. “What did you think? You’d be going on tour with us. Didn’t you read the job description?”
“Of course I did,” I said, attempting to save my ass. “It just took a minute for ‘on the road’ to register. I was thinking they flew to events. Road implies…bus, yes?”
“We travel on tour buses for the North American leg. They’ll be hitting Europe later this year, which will be mostly air travel on a private jet from city to city. But that wouldn’t involve you. This position is for the US tour only.”
“I see…” My mind wandered a bit as he spoke for several more minutes—I think about some of the logistics of the job.
After I gave him my phone number, he suddenly stood. “Anyway, while I like the fact that you don’t seem starstruck, I have to be honest. You’re giving me the impression that you might not be ready for this. But I’ll hang onto your information, and depending on how the other interviews go, you may or may not be hearing from me.”
“Okay,” I said, standing as well. “Thank you for your time and consideration.” Why not ask? “Would I have an opportunity to meet the band while I’m here?”
He shook his head immediately. “I’m sorry. That won’t be possible. They’re busy recording and can’t be interrupted.”
I swallowed. Worth a shot. “I understand. Thank you again for your time.”
He nodded. “Safe drive home.”
My heart pounded as I headed down the hall toward the exit. I decided to stop in the bathroom to splash some water on my face.
Inside the lavatory, I looked at myself in the mirror. My cheeks flamed as I processed the last twenty minutes and pondered whether to stick around here in the desert or just head back to Nevada. What now?
Then I caught movement behind me and jumped. Through the mirror, I spotted a man’s bare ass at the urinal on the opposite wall.
Before I could do anything else, he turned, spotting me as he zipped his fly. “Whoa. What the fuck?”
CHAPTER 2
EMILY
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I’d walked into the men’s room.”
He had a long beard and wore a hood. His blue eyes were piercing, and he seemed to have high cheekbones and a handsome face through all that facial hair.
He looked at me skeptically. “Why are you here?”
“I thought it was the ladies’ room. I—”
“Yeah, I got that. I don’t mean why you’re in the bathroom. I meant the building. No one’s allowed in this place.”
“I was let in by…Dan Elias for a job interview.”
“Doug Elias, you mean?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Interview for what?” The man turned to the sink and proceeded to wash his hands as I explained.
“To assist on Delirious Jones’s upcoming tour. But I don’t think that’s going to be happening. Pretty sure I flubbed the interview, because I was unprepared.” As in, I had no idea I was applying for a job today.
And why am I still standing here talking to this guy?
“I see.”
“Do you work here?” I asked.
He stared at me like I had ten heads. “Yeah. I work with the band.”
“Can you tell me what it’s like working for them? Would I be getting myself into some deep shit by taking this position? I don’t think I’m gonna get it, but in the event they call me back, I’d like to know if I’m getting in over my head.”
“What do you consider deep shit?”
“I’ve just never been part of a scene like this.”
He chuckled. “You mean like…sex, drugs, and rock and roll?”
“Right.”
“Well…” He crossed his arms. “There are a few things I should warn you about.”
“Okay.”
“You should know, there are orgies almost every night.”
