“Like me and Jordan?”
“Yes, honey. Like you and Jordan,” she said softly. “Eat up,” she said, closing the subject.
*****
The crowd was rocking, loving every minute of “Rev Your Engine” as the band played on. But something was off. Otis looked to his left, meeting his brother's puzzled frown as Noah's eyes suddenly locked with his. And he recognized the 'what the fuck' expression on his face immediately. Glad to know that it wasn't just him, Otis turned back, microphone in hand, and shot a look at Buz.
Buzzy played on, letting the music and the energy of the crowd move him onward. He tried to drown out everything else – all the noise inside his head – and just focus on the task at hand. But he knew he was struggling. His playing was sloppy and weak. He was not himself tonight at all, and he knew full well what the problem was, but he couldn't seem to shake it. Still, he forged ahead. He had no choice. He had a job to do, and the show had to go on.
When the song came to an end and the crowd was busy cheering, he looked up to see Otis and Noah approaching the drum riser. Noah's expression was one of concern, but Otis looked pissed as he stepped onto the platform.
“Buzzy, what the hell is going on, man?” Noah asked. “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. What?”
“What?” Otis repeated as he stared at him. “Are you sick?”
“No, I'm not sick,” Buz answered, frowning at them.
“Well, what's the problem, Buz?” Noah asked.
“I don't know what you mean?” Buzzy said, looking from one Ivory to the other.
“Buz,” Otis said, glaring at him. “Look, I don't know what's going on with you tonight, man. But if you are not physically ill, then you better get your fucking head in the game! Now! Or let Tim take over,” he said, gesturing to Buzzy's drum tech.
“Alright, man, I'm sorry,” Buz mumbled, knowing exactly what they were referring to, and that they were right. “I'm good. I'm here; I swear!”
“You better be,” Otis replied. “Let's go. Count it off.”
Otis stepped off the riser and they moved back down stage as Buzzy counted off the next song. And as the show continued, he made a conscious effort to push all thoughts of Janie and her son from his mind. He focused on the music, allowing it to permeate his entire being. He threw himself into his drums until he could feel every beat in his bones. He let it overtake him, pouring all of his frustrations from the past two days into his task. He played like a man possessed for the rest of the show, and he was so engrossed in what he was doing that he didn't catch the appreciative glance that Otis shot his way, or the amused shoulder shrug that passed between him and Noah.
As the guys left the stage after their final encore, Buzzy felt like he was in a daze. His brain was completely fried. And he jumped about a foot when he felt someone slap a hand on his shoulder.
“Whoa! Calm down, man,” Otis smiled at him. “What is up with you tonight?”
Buzzy sighed and ignored the question as they entered the dressing room. And he immediately plopped down into the nearest chair, exhausted.
“Hey, Buz,” Otis said, frowning at him. “Man, I'm really starting to worry.”
“We all are, man,” Noah spoke up. “What is going on, brother? That was not like you tonight. You don't lose the beat.”
“I know,” Buzzy answered, shaking his head. “And I apologize to all of you. I am very, very sorry.”
“Buzzy, what happened this morning, man?” Benji asked. “Did you talk to Janie?”
“That's where you disappeared to this morning?” Cory spoke up.
“What? Did something happen?” Otis asked, frowning at him once more. “Did you argue?”
“Look, I know you all mean well,” Buz said, looking them each in the eye and raising his hand as if to ask them to back off. “And believe me, I love the fact that you care. But I can't do this right now. I just … I've got a lot on my mind that I need to process.”
They were all quiet for a while as they stared at him, and then at each other. They had been together long enough to know that when one of them had a serious issue going on, that brother had four others to lean on. They were a tight-knit bunch, and there was never any question about their willingness to be there for one another. Or to give each other space when they needed it.
“Alright, man,” Otis said finally, speaking for all of them. “When you want to talk, you know we're all here, right?”
Buzzy nodded silently.
“Okay,” Otis said. “Um … are you okay? I mean … do you need to walk away for a while?”
Buz looked up at him with wide eyes. “No! I'll be fine. I just … I need to straighten some things out in my head. That's all.”
“Okay,” O repeated.
The dressing room began to fill then, and after the guys got cleaned up, they all left the arena and made their way to Shaker Heights, where one of Buzzy's cousins insisted on throwing a small impromptu gathering for the band at his house. The entire band went, as well as Mercy, Fae, and Mike and his girlfriend.
Buzzy tried to be present and in the moment, especially since he didn't get the chance to see this part of his family very often. But he simply couldn't concentrate. And finally the notion hit him that it might be best just to get drunk and forget about everything for a while.
“Hey, Noah,” Buz said, looking at his friend from across the table as they sat in his cousin's kitchen.
“Yeah?” Noah answered, wrapping his arms around Mercy as she sat down in his lap.
“I love you, man,” he said after a slight pause.
Noah looked at him with raised eyebrows and then laughed at him. “Okay. I love you too, Buzzy, you know that.”
Buz nodded his head at him.
“Should I leave you two alone for a while?” Mercy asked looking from Noah to Buz and back again, and Noah laughed some more before turning back to Buz.
“Buz, are you drunk, man?”
“Not yet,” Buz answered with a serious look in his eyes. “But I am about to get completely and totally shit-faced. And I just want to apologize to you in advance for that.”
Noah frowned slightly at the sincerity in his voice as he studied him. He had no clue what was going on with Buzzy tonight, but he knew him well enough to know that his friend was obviously in a lot of pain right now.
“Buz … man, you don't need to apologize to me for wanting to get drunk,” he said. “I don't know what you're going through, brother, but if you feel the need to numb everything right now, don't mind me. I won't worry unless it becomes a habit, alright?”
“Deal,” Buz said, raising his glass of bourbon and throwing it back.
Noah sat at the table with Mercy on his lap for about an hour as he watched the goings on around him. And he watched as Buzzy drank shot after shot of not only bourbon, but also tequila and a little rum. He wasn't being too picky tonight, Noah noticed. And he almost wretched as he thought about the revolting way Buzzy was going to feel in the morning. There were things about alcohol that Noah dearly missed – mainly just the taste of bourbon as he had considered himself to be something of a whiskey connoisseur – but waking up with a foggy, whiskey-marinated brain was not one of them. He could do without that muddled, stupefied existence forever, and he didn't envy the massive headache that he knew his friend was going to have come morning.
As he and Mercy laughed and talked with Buzzy's cousins, Noah kept a careful eye on Buz. But, ever the people watcher, he also sat back and watched all of his bandmates. It was just his habit. Cory had found a fairly quiet spot to video chat with Donna via his cellphone, and he was nursing a beer and spending some virtual quality time with his girl. Benji and Fae were playing a very lively game of pool with Mike and Alison. And Otis was being Otis.
For the past couple of hours, Noah had kept track as his brother worked his way through just about every gorgeous and willing chick in attendance. He watched as Otis would zero in on one of them, pour on the charm, and then disap
pear with her for a while. Then later, Noah would see the girl emerge from a back hallway fixing her hair and her clothes. And Otis would venture out a few seconds later and begin the process all over again with a new girl. By his count, Otis had just screwed three or four different women, and Noah found himself hoping that his brother was using protection.
Chapter Six
Buzzy woke up slowly, immediately regretting his decision to get so wasted last night as his head began to pound. But the alcohol had served its purpose. It had numbed his senses for a while, making the pain slightly more bearable. He vaguely remembered getting so smashed that Otis and Cory had physically helped him to get from the kitchen table at his cousin's house out to the SUV limo. He didn't remember much of anything after that though.
He groaned slightly as he moved to sit up, and it was then that he realized that he was still fully dressed. Only his shoes had been removed. How had he gotten here? And as he thought about it, he saw flashes in his mind of the guys helping him to the room, and pulling off his shoes. Did that really happen or was he making that up? Concentrating on the image, he suddenly remembered reaching out and taking Cory by the shoulder as he knelt in front of him unlacing his shoe.
~~~~~
“Why would she lie to me, Cory?”
Cory looked up at him as his fingers worked to untie Buzzy's shoe.
“Why … why would she lie to me about something so important, man? Why would she do that? Why would she tell me that?”
“I … I don't know, Buzzy,” Cory had answered, clearly in the dark about what had prompted Buz's question. “I don't know.”
“I thought she loved me,” Buz slurred. “I just love her so much. I thought she loved me back, man. Why won't she love me back anymore?”
~~~~~
Buz ran a hand over his five o'clock shadow and sighed. He felt like shit, physically and emotionally. Slowly, he climbed out of the bed and grabbed a bottle of water. He opened it up and downed almost half of it before he made his way into the bathroom. He spent some time in there getting cleaned up as he showered and shaved and tried to get his head on straight. Then he ordered some room service and a bottle of aspirin to try and combat his hangover.
After he dressed and ate his food, he popped a couple of the aspirin and went in search of the others. He found them congregated in Mike's suite, talking about the tour schedule over breakfast.
“Well, I'm going to stay with you throughout these Ohio dates, but then I need to get back to Los Angeles to take care of some other business. And Alison needs to get back to work too.” Mike was saying as he walked in.
“Hey, man,” Otis said, smiling at him. “We thought you'd sleep it off until time to get on the bus.”
“Yeah, Buz. How you feeling, man?” Cory asked.
“Hungover,” he answered quietly. “But I'm good.”
“Well, there's plenty to eat, Buz,” Mike offered. “You might feel better if you have something.”
“I just ate some room service of my own,” he said, pulling out a chair and taking a seat.
“Okay. Well, I was just telling the guys that the drive to Toledo is only about two hours long, as you probably know, but we want to avoid the work traffic if we can, so the bus is scheduled to pull out at two this afternoon,” Mike said. And Buz swallowed anxiously at his words. A light, friendly chatter settled over the room as his heart pounded in his chest and he licked his lips nervously.
“I'm not going,” he said.
All chatter stopped as every head turned to look at him in stunned silence.
Mike's eyes narrowed as he stared at him. “What do you mean, you're not going?” he asked slowly, his voice carrying a clearly disapproving tone.
Buzzy sighed heavily as he stared down at his hands. Then he licked his lips once more before looking Mike in the eye.
“I mean I'm not going on the tour bus,” he said. He hesitated slightly before continuing, “I have some personal business that I need to take care of before I can leave Cleveland.”
“What kind of personal business?” Mike asked. “You have a concert tomorrow night in Toledo. What kind of personal business would make you put that in jeopardy?”
“The private kind,” Buz shot back, instantly pissed at his circumstances and taking it out on Mike. “That's why they call it personal business!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute,” Noah spoke up, looking from Mike to Buzzy and trying to diffuse the situation before it got any hotter. “Look, Buz … no one's attacking you right now, alright? Let's just calm down for a minute, okay?”
Buz glared at Mike, knowing that his anger was totally misplaced. He was upset with Janie. And with himself. This had nothing to do with Mike at all. He buried his face in his hands for a moment as his head really started to pound. Then he took a few deep breaths trying to calm down.
“Buz … we don't know what's going on with you, man, but we can see that something is not right,” Noah continued. “But last night, you told us that you didn't need to take any time off. Are you changing your mind about that now?”
He looked up and sighed, shaking his head at the question. “No. I'm not talking about stepping back. I just need a few hours to take care of some things. I'm just talking about meeting the band in Toledo tomorrow afternoon. Just to give me a little time to deal with some things here.”
“What things, Buz?” Otis asked loudly. “Look, man, I know that you're obviously going through some shit right now, and I'm sorry about whatever it is. I truly am. But what you're talking about is throwing this tour into turmoil … again! Hasn't this tour had enough drama with missing band members already?”
“Thanks a lot, O,” Benji said sarcastically. And Otis rolled his eyes.
“I'm sorry, Benji,” he replied. “I did not mean that the way it sounded. But I'm just being honest, man. I'm starting to think maybe this tour is cursed.” Then he turned his attention back to Buz. “What is so important that you have to risk missing a show for? Why are you doing this?”
All eyes were on Buzzy as he stared at Otis. Then he took a breath and let it out slowly before he answered. “Because I think I just met my son,” he said quietly.
The statement was followed by shocked silence as Buz sat pitifully in the chair looking around at their faces. He could see the understanding creep into their brains as they took in what he had just said.
“Wow,” Otis whispered.
“Your son?” Benji asked softly.
“This is what you meant last night,” Cory said as he sat watching him. “When you said why would she lie to you about something so important.”
“Oh, my God, Buz,” Noah mumbled.
“Well, that certainly explains why you've been so freaked out since yesterday,” Otis added.
“You take whatever time you need, man,” Noah said.
“Yeah. In fact … why don't we just plan on Tim filling in for the rest of these Ohio dates?” Otis suggested, referring to Buzzy's drum tech. “That would give you a few days to straighten some things out with your girl … maybe spend some time with the kid. And you can just meet us down in Cincinnati later in the week to get on the bus.”
Buzzy smiled slightly at them, shaking his head. “I appreciate the offer, O. I really do. But things with Janie aren't exactly good right now. I don't even know if I'm going to be able to get her to talk to me so … I don't know that the extra time would help me any. I really just need twenty-four hours. Just to see where we stand. Find out what I'm up against.”
“Hey, Buzzy,” Mike spoke up. “About that?”
“Yeah?”
“You said that you think you just met your son. Does that mean you're not entirely sure this kid is actually yours?” Mike asked.
“I believe he's mine,” Buzzy answered after a brief pause. “But she's denying it.”
“Well … and I'm just thinking purely as an attorney here so, bear with me … but, if she says otherwise, what makes you think you're this kid's father?”
“You mean besides the fact that he's the right age, and he looks like me? And that she named him after me?”
“She named him after you?” Mike asked.
“She calls him Bobby,” Buz answered. “But his name is Robert. Robert Andrew.”
“Well, I'm afraid that doesn't mean much to a judge,” Mike stated. “She could just claim that she likes the name and it has nothing to do with you. I mean, statistically speaking, there have to be at least a couple thousand men who share the name Robert Andrew.”
“A judge?” Buzzy questioned as his brow knit together. And Mike looked at him with a serious expression.
“Well, I'm assuming that's your ultimate objective here,” he said. “To force the issue and get a paternity test? That's the first step you're going to have to take in establishing any kind of parental rights. Assuming, of course, that you want parental rights, I mean.”
Buzzy's aching head was suddenly spinning. Did he want parental rights? Did he want to be a father to this little boy? Or did he just want some answers from Janie?
“Look, Buzzy … family law is not my area of expertise,” Mike said, recognizing the look of panic and confusion creeping into the drummer's eyes. “But if you'd like, I would be more than happy to find you someone excellent in the field. You'll need someone here in Cleveland if you decide to pursue this thing.”
Buz swallowed anxiously. “Thanks, Mike,” he mumbled, feeling badly about his earlier attitude. “Right now I think that I just need to try and talk to Janie. To see where I stand and go from there. But I'll let you know.”
“Okay,” Mike nodded. “You keep me posted and I'll help in any way I can.”
Buz nodded, feeling as if he were in a daze.
“Alright. I'm going to leave a car for you,” Mike continued. “And I insist that you keep your bodyguard with you at all times! That is not negotiable. He'll act as your driver and get you to Toledo on time. And I want you in Toledo, at the stadium at least two hours before show time, do you understand me?” he asked, pointing his index finger at him.
The Essential Jagged Ivory (Jagged Ivory Boxed Set) Page 63