Damien held the basketball on his hip, then chucked it at Mason. Hard. “Who you calling old dudes?”
Mason caught the ball with a grunt. Clearly, not Damien. “Just my pops and Tommy,” he replied with a lopsided smile.
“Tell ya what.” A sinister grin spread across Damien’s face. “I’ll play with the old dudes. They need all the help they can get.”
This side of the rooftop was void of furniture, with ample room to run and dribble, which was a good thing because they needed every inch of it. Mason’s dad, Tommy and Damien ran and jumped like athletes. It wasn’t that surprising considering they’ve been performing a highly-active punk rock show for decades. The shows today were as active as they’d been when Mason was a kid. “You sure you guys don’t need a nap?” Mason asked with a laugh. His dad, Tommy and Damien were running circles around him and Lucas.
“I can go all night long,” Tommy boasted. “I’m used to it. I got a husband and a wife to keep up with.”
“I can vouch for that!” Angel called from the chaise lounge where he sat sipping a cocktail from a salt-rimmed glass. “Tommy has the stamina of an 18-year old!”
“They ain’t kidding,” Mason’s dad added. “I still share a tour bus with them.”
Damien, the tallest and leanest of them all, slam dunked another basket. “You kiddos better get ready to serve us old dudes our lunch, cuz we’re about to whip your butts.”
Mason took control of the ball, bounced it around his dad and took the shot. “Score!” He gloated with a hearty laugh directed at Damien, which earned him a menacing scowl.
Damien stole the ball, dribbled it across the rooftop and tried to pass it to Tommy, but Mason, blocked it and stole the ball back.
“Over here!” Lucas called running toward the basket. Mason threw the ball to Lucas, who caught it and slammed it into the basket, winning the game.
“Yes!” Mason shouted. He raised a fist toward the sky and chest bumped Lucas in victory.
“What the fuck, Jimmy?” Tommy approached Mason’s dad, arms spread wide. “You were supposed to cover Lucas. He was wide open. We could’ve fucking won.”
“I was covering him.” Mason’s dad replied. “He shot out of reach in a flash. That’s one quick cat.”
“Pay attention next time.” Tommy picked up the basketball and threw it at Mason’s dad, hitting him square in the chest, much harder than expected. Tommy’s mouth fell open, and he let out a small laugh. “Sorry, Jimbo.”
Mason’s dad put his hand to his wounded chest. “You’re a dead man, Blade!” He chased Tommy around the rooftop and the two ended up grappling like teenagers.
Damien grunted a laugh and corralled Mason and Lucas under his long arms and led them to the patio table. “And you guys are supposed to be the kids in this scenario. Let’s see what Angel brought for lunch.”
Angel stood as they approached and fanned his hand in front of the spread on the table. “We have sweet rolls, corn salsa with mint and lime, fresh plantain chips, boniato con mojo, which are sweet potatoes, roasted Brussels sprouts with braised pork belly, and grilled pork tenderloin, with mojo, of course.”
“It looks great, Papi,” Lucas said. “I’m starved.”
Mason watched his dad and Tommy walk toward the table, an arm slung over the other’s shoulder which portrayed decades of friendship. Tommy still had his trademark long blond hair and Mason’s dad never got rid of the sideburns that reached his chin, and his pompadour remained gelled in place, even after the hectic basketball game.
“Where’s the steaks?” his dad asked, looking down at the table.
“On the grill. They’ll be done in two more minutes. I know how you Wilders love your beef.” Angel went to the barbecue to brush the steaks with another coating of his special glaze, and a heavenly aroma blew across the rooftop.
“What about you, Damien?” Mason asked, noting that Damien was already filling his plate with a large amount of the tenderloin. “Don’t you want steak?”
Damien shrugged. “I ate most of my meals at Angel’s house when I was young. Before I met my girl. So I always go for the pork.” He grabbed a roll and slapped Angel on the back. “Save me a piece of that steak, though.” Then he strolled over to the side of the building to face the water.
Mason’s dad and Lucas headed over to the grill, plates in hand waiting for the steaks, but Tommy grabbed a beer from the cooler and sat across the table facing Mason.
Tommy flipped the cap between his fingers, staring straight at Mason. “So. You and my daughter.”
Mason’s jaw fell open and the corners of his mouth curled upward. It was like déjà vu. Not only did Tommy ask the same question, but he played with his beer cap just as Lucas had. These two were as alike as father and son could be, and not just in the physical resemblance either. Mason gave Tommy one of his contagious smiles. “Don’t sweat it, man. Lucas already read me my rights. Hurt my sister and I’ll kick your ass,” he paraphrased, which summed it up nicely.
“That’s my boy,” Tommy said with pride. “Seriously, Mase. I couldn’t pick a better guy for her. I don’t know why it took so long, though. You two should have been together years ago.”
“Thanks, man.” Mason was humbled. Both Tommy and Lucas were overly protective of Tessa, and their approval meant a lot to him. “You’re right. We should have been together years ago.”
Angel set the steaks down on the table, then placed his hand on Mason’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “We’re just happy you two finally figured it out. You have no idea how it was killing me not to say anything to Tessa. There were so many times when we were cooking together that she would relay a story of something amazing you did in the studio or on stage, and I could see the love she had for you as clear as day. Her eyes would sparkle and her entire face would light up.” Angel sighed. “It was very romantic.”
Mason had seen that look in her eyes, as well, but he thought it was the music that had Tessa so enamored. Now, he realized it was him.
Everyone came to honor Aunt Mary on her 90th birthday. The entire Immortal Angel family was there to celebrate. Even Mason’s Aunt Kira and Uncle Brett, who lived half the year on the West Coast, the other half in the penthouse next to Mason’s parents, flew in from California with their twins to join the celebration. All four of Mason’s grandparents also showed up for the occasion. These were the people whose lives Aunt Mary touched, and she was humbled at the fuss.
“Oh, my. This is all so overwhelming.” Aunt Mary pulled the glasses from her face and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“Blow out the candle.” Mason’s mom, pushed the cake a little closer to Aunt Mary.
The elderly woman leaned her elbows on the table and took a big breath of air. The candle flickered against the shallow gust she exhaled before the flame finally extinguished and the room filled with cheers and applause. Everyone quieted as Aunt Mary removed the pink Burberry blanket from her legs, pushed back on her wheelchair and stood with a wobbly gait, supporting herself with her frail hands on the edge of the table.
Mason started to rise to help her. He always got so nervous when she didn’t use her chair, but his dad jumped up to assist her.
“I’m fine, Jimmy.” She waved him away with an arthritic hand. “I want to tell you all something.” She paused to look at the faces around the large table, while the sweetest smile spread across her lips, wrinkling her cheeks and the corners of her eyes. “I’m 90 years old today.”
“You still look 21!” Mason’s dad called out, with his hands cupped around his mouth, and everyone laughed.
“Oh, hush! You’re so silly, Jimmy. Living with you has always kept me smiling. You’ve all kept me smiling. Especially you little ones.” Rightfully, Michael and the twins were the only ones who still fell into that category, but Aunt Mary still included Mason, Lucas, and Tessa in the blanket term. “I never had any children, but I always felt like a grandmother.”
“We love you Aunt Mary!” Mason called out.
She waved at him to be quiet, a smile crinkling the apples of her cheeks. “Shush. You’re just like your father. Let an old woman speak.” Her eyes traveled over everyone at the table. “I love all of you so much.” She paused again while reflection glazed over her wise eyes for several moments. “I’ve had an amazing life thanks to you. I’ve done more in the last 30 years than most people do in a lifetime. I got to see a man with a husband and a wife.” She smiled at Angel, Tommy and Jessi. “I’ve never witnessed so much love. I traveled all over the world. I went to Australia and Japan. I’ve been to Europe and South America. Dozens of times!” Her voice grew higher, as if she just said she’d gone to the moon. “I even rode on a tour bus across the country with a rock and roll band more times than I can count.”
“Technically, it’s a punk rock band,” Angel said with a teasing smile. “You should know there’s a difference, Aunt Mary. But that’s OK.”
Aunt Mary let out a small laugh. “You boys. Always giving me a hard time and keeping me on my toes.” She curled her arthritic fingers into a fist and looked at it. Slowly, she raised her index finger and then uncurled her pinky and raised her fist a little higher and smiled as she raised rock and roll horns in the air. Everyone erupted into laughter. She was so darn cute.
Her eyes rested on Jimmy, and her smiled quivered “You’ve been so good to me, Jimmy. Taking me into this beautiful penthouse and giving me my own suite of rooms so I could be near my Mason and watch him grow up and become a rock star and fall in love. I’m so thankful I got to be part of Michael’s life.” He ran to her side and gave her a gentle hug, and she cupped his chin in her hand. “You’re such a dear. And so very smart. Thank you for not beating the drums at all hours of the day and night like your brother.” Mason chuckled and smiled affectionately at this woman who he had looked up to since he was a baby. She returned the smile, deep lines forming above her cheekbones and around her mouth. Then she turned toward the opposite end of the table. “I got to bounce twin babies on my lap and spend a summer in California thanks to you, Kira.”
“I had a little something to do with that,” Uncle Brett added, sending a small rumble of laughter around the table.
Aunt Mary extended her frail hand to Mason, and he quickly moved to her side to take it. Her fingers shook as she tried to assert a tender squeeze.
“Mason is my only blood relation in this room, but you’re all my family. You’re all my children, and you’ve taken such good care of me.” Her hand, still in Mason’s, began to tremble and she sniffled.
He helped her sit back down in the chair, leaving a kiss on her leathery cheek.
“I love you, Aunt Mary. Happy Birthday.”
The call came at 6:08 in the morning. Somehow, Mason knew. Maybe it was the finality of Aunt Mary’s speech last night. Or the sinking feeling in his chest. Or maybe it was just the connection he shared with this woman who he loved like a grandmother. Whatever the reason, he knew she’d passed before his father had uttered the heart-rendering words.
“Aunt Mary passed in her sleep. I’m so sorry, buddy.” Those were the words that kept playing on repeat in Mason’s head as he sat at the same dining room table where they’d celebrated the life of this incredible woman less than 24 hours earlier. Balloons still floated near the ceiling, announcing the 90 years of life that had been lived. According to Mason’s dad, Aunt Mary had wanted to sit in her favorite recliner before bed and look at her photo albums. Never getting on board with the digital era, she loved to look at printed photos. Mason’s mom always made it a point to print off photos at the end of every year to document the people and events in Aunt Mary’s life. There were dozens of flip books, albums and framed photos all over Aunt Mary’s suite of rooms. She had always wanted them within reach, so she could take them off the shelf and look at them without asking for help.
Mason’s dad said he had gone to check on her when he got up to use the bathroom, just to make sure she made it into bed OK, and that’s when he’d found her. At first, he thought she was sleeping, but her hand was cold to his touch. She looked peaceful, his father had told him, with the corners of her mouth turned up into a small smile. Tears streamed down Mason’s cheeks as he looked down at the small photo album in his hands, the one his dad found in Aunt Mary’s lap. He touched the lettering on the cover of the album. MASON – 4 YEARS OLD. It was the first year he and Aunt Mary came to live with his dad. Even before his dad married his mom.
Tessa knelt beside him and put her hands on his thigh. “What’s that?” she asked softly.
“The photo album Aunt Mary was looking at when she died.” He kept his gaze lowered so Tessa couldn’t see his pain, but he knew she felt it. There was no hiding his grief.
“Can I see?”
Mason opened the book. The first page showed Mason sitting behind his dad’s drum kit. He saw Tessa smiling as he flipped the pages, which were filled with more images of himself and his dad. Some with Aunt Mary. Some with his mom. Each photo brought another memory to life.
“You were always such a happy kid,” Tessa commented. “You had that adorable giggle, and I always loved the way your cheeks dimpled when you smiled.” She ran a tender hand over his cheek. “I still do.”
He held her hand against his lips and kissed her palm as he gazed at her, his eyes watering. This girl had so much compassion and sensitivity in her soul that it constantly poured out and nurtured the ones she loved, and he felt it. His attention dropped to the photo book, and he took in the memories that seemed like yesterday and so long ago at the same time. It amazed him how much he remembered from when he was young. “You and Lucas weren’t even born when these were taken.” He turned away from the album in his lap to study Tessa’s profile. She was so pretty and so kind. “I can’t believe there was a time when I didn’t know you. That there was a period of my life that you weren’t part of.” He flipped through more pages and it came to an end with a photo of him sitting on his dad’s lap playing the big blue drums. As he closed the leather cover and stood up, the album slipped through his fingers and landed on the floor.
Tessa picked it up, along with a small three-by-five photo that landed next to it. She studied the photo for a few seconds before handing it to Mason. “Who’s this?”
Mason stared at the photo. It was of a baby in a bouncy seat with a young woman holding up a stuffed animal and smiling at the baby. “I think it’s me.”
“I know the baby’s you. I can see your dimples. Who’s the girl?”
Mason’s heart plummeted with realization, then it beat at an incredible speed. His cheeks grew hot and his throat closed. It couldn’t be her. But he knew it was her. She looked exactly as he remembered. Her familiar sandy blond hair with the flyaway strands that always surrounded her face jumped out at him. He was shocked that he remembered her so vividly. “She’s my birth mother.”
Tessa’s mouth fell open, and her expression took on one of shock and surprise, but she said nothing.
This was the only photo he’d seen of his birth mother. He had asked his dad for a picture of her once, when he was little, but his dad had said that he didn’t have one. His dad said he hadn’t known her that long. Or that well. So, Mason asked Aunt Mary. She said she’d find one, but never did. He wondered if she meant to give him this photo and forgot where she put it.
He felt as if everyone just wanted to forget about his birth mother. No one ever talked about her. Not even Aunt Mary. So, he’d stopped asking questions at a very young age. Now, with the sudden appearance of the photo in his hand, he wondered if they were purposely keeping her whereabouts from him. More importantly, why hadn’t she bothered to contact him in the last twenty-something years?
He didn’t remember much about her, only that she was never home and that he had spent most of his time with Aunt Mary, until the day he met his dad. Suddenly, he had family. A big one. Grandparents. Uncles. Angel, Tommy and Jessi. Damien and Alyssa. And his mom. Naturally, he’d called her Audra back then. He didn’t remember
exactly when he started calling her Mom, but it wasn’t that long after she married his dad. She was the only real mother he’d ever known, and she owned the title.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a picture of her,” Tessa said.
Lost in the two-dimensional photo, Mason forgot Tessa was standing in front of him. He turned the small photo around to show it to her again. “This is the first picture I’ve ever seen of her.”
Her forehead wrinkled as she looked at the photo. “Why don’t you have any photos?”
“I don’t know.”
“She’s pretty. What happened to her?”
“I don’t know.” He stared at the photo, searching his memory. But it was a blank slate. He hadn’t thought about her in years, and he hadn’t seen her since the day she left him with his dad.
“What’s her name?”
He needed to think about it for a long time, and then it came to him. “Kendall.”
“Do you think she’ll come to Aunt Mary’s funeral?”
Bitterness filled his belly. He didn’t want to see her. He didn’t know her anymore. She was a total stranger. What kind of person abandons their four-year-old child? “I hope not.”
“Why not? She’s your mother.”
“She’s not my mother.” It came out harsher than expected, and Tessa flinched.
She placed a calming hand on his cheek. “You don’t have to explain, Mason. We’re all grieving. Everyone loved Aunt Mary. She was a big part of my life too. When we were kids and on tour with Immortal Angel, Aunt Mary took care of me. She played with me when you and Lucas were playing music together. We played dolls and dress up and watched Disney movies.” Tessa’s voice cracked as she recalled old memories of time spent with Aunt Mary. “She tucked me in bed every night when my parents were at the arena and read me a story.” Tears welled on Tessa’s lower lids and then slid down her cheeks. She covered her mouth just as a sob broke free.
MASON WILDER: Radical Rock Stars Next Generation Duet Book 2 Page 12