He reached across the center console to hold my hand. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault, you know. You’re doing the best you can for them, but it’s up to them to change their lives.”
“It’s really hard to watch when it’s just me,” I admitted. “Having you see it is…humiliating.”
“It’s okay. I’m sure my father drinks himself silly every night too. I just don’t like him enough to care.”
“And you don’t worry about drinking?”
“You mean, that I’ll become an alcoholic?” He shook his head. “I don’t have an addictive personality. Thank goodness. I dabbled in cocaine early in the Pretty Harts years, and it’s just not a big deal. I can take it or leave it, and now that I’m older and have so much to lose, I avoid drugs. I’m not willing to risk everything I’ve worked for to get high. And the thing is, I don’t worry if I go out and get drunk because I can call a cab or whatever.”
“But alcoholism can be genetic.”
“When I was in my early twenties, I didn’t care,” he said quietly. “I guess being in the music biz gave me a different perspective. Now I’m more cognizant of it, but I already know I don’t have that addictive personality, so I can enjoy a few beers or have a few shots now and then. As you should know after spending time with me, I don’t drink every day.”
“I know.” I looked away, suddenly a little embarrassed by how fanatic I was about this type of thing.
“So you don’t drink at all? Ever?” he asked.
“I’ve never had so much as a sip of beer,” I blurted out.
18
Bash
* * *
I glanced over at her to see if she was serious, and there was no doubt in my mind. She was also embarrassed and I didn’t want her to be.
“That’s okay,” I said gently. “Surprising, but it’s not a big deal.”
“I’m twenty-six. That seems really odd, doesn’t it?”
“Considering your background? I don’t think so.”
“Do you think it’s dorky?”
“I think you’re missing out on some of the finer things in life, like enjoying a bottle of Veuve Clicquot La Grande Dame champagne. It’s one of my favorite things ever. One of many I’d love to share with you, but it’s not mandatory.”
She nodded stiffly. “I want to,” she said. “I really, really want to try something like that. One sip of beer. Some of the wines I cook with. I mean, I’ve tasted a little when cooking with it, but the alcohol mostly burns off so I didn’t worry about it. No alcohol has been my mantra for so long, I’ve never even considered trying it.”
“And if you feel that strongly about it, you shouldn’t. Not for me anyway. It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Maybe someday, I’ll try this Grande Dame champagne.” She smiled shyly.
“Only if you want to. Maybe on a New Year’s Eve.”
“That sounds lovely.”
“So no smoking or drugs either, I presume?”
“Nope. I barely even take Tylenol.”
“Not everything in life is out to hurt you,” I said. “Certainly not Tylenol.”
“Once in a while I break down, like if I have bad cramps, but in general, the pain has to be awful for me to take anything.”
We were quiet for a few minutes before I said, “I watched Grease the other night.” I wanted to change the subject and this seemed like a good time to segue into something else.
“You did?”
“I wanted to see what you meant since you compared those characters to us.”
“And?”
“I see your point, but I disagree. Especially now. I mean, from what you can tell, Sandy’s family was super normal and middle class, very much like what you imagine a suburban family would be, but Danny didn’t have a family that was ever mentioned. In our case, we both come from dysfunctional families, and while I went the wilder route, you stuck to the straight and narrow. The way I see it, we’re just two sides of the same coin, babe. We kicked and scratched our way out of our rough beginnings, and I just got a little luckier because I was in the right place at the right time with Pretty Harts.”
“And now you’ve fallen in with Nobody’s Fool. Seems like lady luck is your friend.”
I shrugged. “Not so much anymore. At least not with Nobody’s Fool. We haven’t really talked about it, but the band is on vacation because of me. We’re supposed to be recording our second album and I’m…struggling.”
“With the music?”
“With everything.”
“I don’t understand.”
I chuckled. “Neither do I. I’m just not feeling the magic we had with Pretty Harts. Well, let me rephrase that. I feel the magic musically, but it’s not resonating with fans. At least not the way it did with Pretty Harts. The minute we hit the road, things took off. This time, it’s going really slowly, and it feels like after two years, something should be happening.”
“Are you not making money?”
I shook my head. “The club tour we did last summer made a little money, but Tyler and I didn’t take any because the others needed it and we don’t. The big tour we did, from September to April, opening for Onyx Knight, barely broke even. If Tyler and I had taken our per diems and hadn’t paid for our drum and bass techs out of our own pockets, it might not have. Again, I don’t need the money, but Stu and Ford do. But if I’m not making money, why am I there? I’m thirty-two and without the band, I don’t have much of a life. By the same token, do I want to spend the next decade on the road trying to make it big again?”
“Is that rhetorical?” she asked after a moment. “Do you want to?”
“Some days I do, some days I don’t.”
“What does the band say?”
“Casey Hart, who was our lead guitarist in Pretty Harts, started a record label and signed us. It gave us the freedom to write and play the music we want, and not have to give a percentage of royalties away. Casey only takes her costs; she’s not making a profit, so it leaves us a good margin. Anyway, she’s hired marketing and PR people to rebrand us, which is why Ford has the fake girlfriend now. It’s all a grand plan to get us out there.”
“But?”
“My heart’s not in it and I’m not sure why.”
“I think sometimes we set ourselves up to fail,” she said after a moment. “Not intentionally, but you know how things are suddenly going so good and then one decision derails everything, even if you didn’t make the decision.”
“Like Casey’s ex coming back from the dead and she and Jayson leaving the band without so much as a conversation with me and Ty.”
“Well, I don’t know that whole story, but yes, just like that. Like me finally having enough money for at least two years of culinary school, and then my brother overdosing and me paying thirty grand for him to go to rehab.”
“Only to have him fall off the wagon a year or so later.”