One moment I’m grateful for that, and the next infuriated that she doesn’t seem to feel the same turmoil I do when I’m around her. I’m like an addict who relapsed, and now can’t get the taste of the drug out of my mouth.
On top of all that, the lawyer informed me that Beverly has a trial date set five months from now. What I’d give for one day that I don’t have to think about it. That I don’t have to struggle with the anger, guilt, and everything else the last year has brought down on me.
As usual, music is my only escape, and even on the days I’m not due in the studio, I’m writing or playing. The trial is liable to postpone the tour, which pisses me off because those people are still fucking up my life. Stealing my peace.
With all the insanity, you’d think I’d be happy not to be on tour, but I miss performing. The excitement of the crowd, the exhilaration that comes with sharing what we’ve created, the way belting out those lyrics always makes me feel afterward. Drained, but better off for it. Empty of whatever trash has been building up.
A week later an opportunity falls into my lap.
“Ax, I need a word,” Dani says, tapping on my music room door. She’s all business when she sits across from me. “I was reading through your emails and there’s a charity concert in Ohio next week to benefit The Institute for Missing Children. They want Tragic to perform.” She glances at me. “I know it’s last minute. I got behind on your emails and just noticed it, but Milo assured me it’s not too late to arrange things. He thinks it’s a good opportunity to debut a song from the album you’re working on. I checked with the rest of the band and they’re willing.”
The Institute for Missing Children. There’s no mystery as to why they asked me to be a part of their fundraiser and even if I wasn’t eager to perform, I’d do it. They helped plaster Hatch’s face everywhere when he was kidnapped.
“We’ll need a couple of days to rehearse here, then I’d like to get a rehearsal in at the venue if we’re playing new music.” She starts making notes on her phone, and I lean toward her. “Dani.”
I’m met with a cautious look of expectation. “If you aren’t up to working right now, I can get Milo to handle everything.”
Her gaze goes back to her phone. “No, I could use the distraction. I’m okay.”
“Are you?”
With a sigh, she looks up at me. “I’m getting there.”
“Are you still pissed at me?”
The corner of her mouth tucks in and she shakes her head. “You’re hard to stay mad at, Ax. It’s always been infuriating. Even when you burnt my favorite doll.”
A reluctant grin lands on her face when I chuckle. “First of all, I was six. Second, you cut the hair on that doll and it looked like a witch.”
“So, you had to burn the witch?”
“Sort of. Mom had just read us Hansel and Gretel where they push the witch in the oven.”
Her laugh rings out, bringing a smile to my face. “For fuck’s sake, Ax. How did I not know that before?”
“You were too busy being mad over the witch’s demise.”
“It melted to the bottom of the oven and smoked up the whole house. I can still remember the smell,” she laughs. Her expression shifts to a frown, and I know she’s remembering what happened next. Dad assumed she was the one who did it and she was so afraid when he started toward her. In half a second, I stepped between them and confessed. The strap made a visit that night. “You always protected me,” she murmurs.
“Always will, Brat. That’s just how it is.” She nods and I add, “The cabin was bulldozed a couple of days ago. I met with the designer and builders. They’ll be getting started this week. I also transferred the value of the property into your checking account.”
The only real conversation we’ve had since Dad’s death was about the property and what I want to do with it.
“Ax! I told you I didn’t want anything for it!” She gets to her feet and stares down at me, arms crossed.
“I know, but Dad left it to you. I wasn’t just going to take it, especially since you don’t want to move with us.”
“I’m still going to be your assistant and travel with you, but I need my own life outside of that.”
“I’m not arguing with you.”
“That’ll be the day,” she scoffs. “Alright, I’m going to contact Milo and get things rolling. Do you want to fly or get the bus?”
The bus I had specifically outfitted for our festival tour is being stored by management until it’s needed again. I don’t want to deal with airports, especially with Hatch, and there’s no way I’m going to be a state away from him.
“The bus. But I want to get there a day early for some rehearsal time.”
“Got it.” On her way out the door she adds, “I’m going out for drinks with Clara tonight. I’ll probably just crash at their place so don’t worry if I don’t come home.”
All the arrangements are made for the concert in record time and I have to be in the studio tomorrow to rehearse and work out our set list. Debuting new music is always nerve wracking, but fun. Muscle memory hasn’t set in yet and we’re more likely to make mistakes or flub the lyrics. Since we aren’t the only performers, we’ll probably only play three or four songs.
As great as it will be to get back onstage, I know it’ll draw attention to us again and increase the chance of being overwhelmed by paparazzi. Especially since my first performance since the kidnapping is for a charity that helps with just that.
The holidays are coming up and we’ve never made much of a big deal of them before, but I have a son now, and I need to give him some normalcy. Some family. A few phone calls is all it takes to arrange a week long vacation at a lodge in northern Wisconsin for Thanksgiving. It’s good to be able to use the label’s travel agency for stuff like this. The band and their families and girlfriends are all coming with us.
A week after the concert, we’ll be far away from all the noise and I can’t wait to see Hatch’s reaction to snow.
“Da-di!” A bang on the door of my music room makes me laugh. I’ve been summoned.
“Come on, you sneaky thing, let’s go play,” I hear Naomi coax him. She looks up at me with a grin when I open the door. “I turned my back for one second to get a towel and he took off. He’s gotten fast.”
Tiny hands claw at my pants. “I think he wants to show you his new toy, if you aren’t busy.”
Sweeping him up, I tip him upside down, making him giggle. “Did you get another new toy? Spoiled rotten.”
With Hatch in my arms, I follow Naomi back to the sunroom where she has a tarp laid across the floor with a large plastic tub in the middle. “He loves playing in the sand so much, that I thought he’d like these. Now that we have days where it’s too nasty to be outside.”
“Down!” Hatch twists in my arms, and I set him on his feet.
“What are they?”
Naomi sits beside the tub and places a large cup and a smaller one in front of Hatch. The tub is filled to the brim with tiny multicolored balls. “Water beads.”