Bad knees ran in our family, but my dad’s had started to fall apart at a young age. He was well past due for total knee replacements. He hated asking for help or admitting he was in pain. Instead, he suffered through most of it with a smile.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said. “You ready to go to church?”
“Waiting on one more,” he said, his smile widening.
“One more?”
At that moment, the doorbell rang, and a second later, the door banged inward. In walked my brother, Campbell.
“What the hell?”
Nora’s face lit up. “Campbell!”
She threw herself into his arms, and he laughed, wrapping her in a hug.
“Hey, y’all.”
“What are you doing here?” We fist-bumped and then hugged.
Campbell was easily the luckiest bastard in the world. The minute he’d graduated high school, he’d ditched Lubbock like a bad breakup and gone straight to LA with nothing but a few hundred bucks and his guitar. Five years later, he’d was part of one of the biggest bands in the world. They’d been this huge for three years, and it was unbelievable. Cosmere was his baby. He wrote all the lyrics, was the lead singer, and played guitar. As far as I knew, he was currently on a world tour for their latest album.
“I did two shows at Red Rocks in Denver and had two whole days off before I needed to be in Salt Lake City. So, I took a jet home,” Campbell said.
“Casual,” Nora said, but she was smiling like a kid in a candy store.
We hadn’t seen Campbell since January, when he kicked off the tour in Lubbock, of all places. He’d barely even checked in. And while it had only been a few short months, we’d gotten used to having him around again. It was one thing when he was in LA and Lubbock was the last place in the world he wanted to be. It was another to finally have him back and for him to leave again. That felt much worse.
“He called me when he got on the plane,” our dad said.
“It’s the best,” Nora said.
“A hundred percent,” I agreed. “Are you going to church with us?”
“Don’t I look like I am?” he asked with a smirk. The shithead was in ripped black jeans, a ripped black T-shirt, and a leather jacket. He looked like he was going to step his Converse-clad feet onstage.
“No,” Dad said. “But it’s okay. We’re just glad you’re going.”
“Glad to be here. And I have a surprise.” He reached into the small duffel he was carrying and withdrew a handful of lanyards. He passed them to me.
“Backstage passes?”
“Yeah. For the Dallas show. It’s this weekend after we play Salt Lake City. I asked for a box for my friends and family, and they gave me one. So, you’ll be in the Owner’s Club. The tickets are on my phone. I’ll send them over. You can all come backstage, too, but the view is better from the box. Plus, free food and booze.”
Nora’s eyes were wide. She snatched a backstage pass from my hand. “Are you serious?”
“Of course. They give me whatever I want. So, if y’all want to come to another show, let me know. I can make it happen. I thought Dallas would be easiest.”
I stared down at the pass. It had Campbell’s face featured prominently on the front. A picture that I recognized as Jennifer’s work. “This is great, man.”
“You’ll invite everyone for me?”
“Of course. I’ll send a group text and see who is free on such short notice.”
“Oh, right.” Campbell ran his hand back through his artfully messy hair. “I forgot about that part. This was when they gave me the tickets.”
“It’s perfect,” Dad said. “It’s very generous.”
Campbell smiled warily at our dad. He’d always gotten along better with Mom before she’d died in a hit and run his senior year of high school. Mom and Dad had been fighting, like normal, and she’d stormed out of the house. We’d never seen her again. Campbell’s relationship with our dad had been strained since then and half the reason he’d left for LA. They were only now getting back on track.
“It was nothing,” Campbell said.
“Let’s get to church,” I said, getting between them before it got awkward.
We piled into my truck, and I drove us the few short miles to the church my dad had been going to on and off for years. He’d stopped for a while when they were shitty to my aunt Lori for marrying her girlfriend, Vail. With a change in pastor, the place had become more accepting. It had lost some of the older parts of the congregation, but Lori and Vail had returned. I still found it amazing that they’d wanted to come back after all that. But it was enough of a change that they felt welcome again and let old wounds heal.
I parked in the back of the lot next to Lori’s bright orange classic Volkswagen Beetle that Vail had helped her refurbish. Vail was smoking a cigarette, leaning back against the hood. She had full sleeves down both arms with short, cropped hair and a nose ring. She was one of the coolest people I’d ever met. I was lucky to have her as an aunt.
“I thought you were quitting,” I admonished as I dropped out of the truck.
Vail winked at me. “I’m always quitting.”
“I told her to stop it, or she couldn’t come home with me,” Lori said. She crossed her arms and shook her head at her wife.
Lori was tall and thin. She’d recently dyed her hair dark red and had grown it out past her shoulders. Vail had on jeans that were ripped from working as a mechanic and a collared polo. While Lori had on a blue sundress. They were night and day, total opposites, and it worked so well for them.
“You like the bad girls, Lori Bug,” Vail said. She stamped out her cigarette and kissed her wife. They twined their hands together. “Come on. Let’s go praise the Lord.”
Lori laughed. “Gregg, is Helene coming too?”
Jordan and Julian’s mother, Helene, had moved back to town from Vancouver for cancer treatments. She’d wanted to be closer to her siblings, Gregg and Lori. She’d had a scare last year, and we’d all been worried we’d lose her. Luckily, she was still with us. After her second round of treatments, she’d been better but fragile.
“No,” Dad said. “She wasn’t feeling up to it.”
Lori frowned. “All right. We’ll go see her after.”
A throat cleared behind me, and Lori and Vail glanced at the same time. Smiles burst onto their faces.
“Campbell!” Lori cried, rushing to pull him into a hug. “What are you doing here?”
“Quick trip to see y’all before I head back out. I was in Denver.”
Vail fist-bumped him. “Hey, kid. Nice jacket.”
He laughed. “Hey, Vail.”
“You bring us anything from Denver?” she asked with a wink.
Campbell grinned and opened his mouth to say something that our dad clearly did not want to hear.
He butted in. “Church,” he reminded the lot of us.
“Yes. Let’s head in,” Lori agreed.
Campbell sidled up with Vail and spoke in whispers. Nora and I exchanged a glance. We’d gotten closer over the last year. We could read each other’s moods. And when it came to Campbell, we’d had that intuition a lot longer.