Hammers & Heartstrings

by Elle Bennett

  “I only broke up with Ron a week ago, dude,” she said. “I’m not ready to make out with some drummer.”

  “Better than sitting alone, because you’re not going to have me to talk to. I’m pretty sure Chad’s passed out, Doug’s gone to bed, and Ken’s apparently hooking up with someone on the tour crew. You might want to find someone interesting and… See where the wind takes you.”

  “Are you trying to get me laid?” she asked.

  “I’m not not trying to get you laid. Bye!”

  I waved goodbye to her and walked over to where Andrew was still talking to Yuri. I gently placed my hand in his, our fingers intertwining.

  “Hey there,” he said with a smile, turning away from Yuri.

  “Want to get out of here? I got a hotel room for the night, and Joan said she’s cool with staying in your bunk on the bus so we can be alone,” I whispered into his ear. I gave his earlobe a little bite for good measure.

  “Nice talking to you, man,” Andrew said to Yuri, giving him a head nod goodbye. We made a beeline for the door. “Let’s go.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Rewriting this again and again

  Trying to get it right

  I’m sick of your shit

  I’m sick of fighting this fight

  “Honest,” Peristerophobia

  When I got home from San Diego, I dropped Joan off at her place, then I went to my dad’s house to pick up Pigeon. He’d agreed to watch him for the night so I wouldn’t have to take him with me.

  “Thanks for dog-sitting,” I said.

  “It wasn’t a big deal. I’ll be honest, the little guy grew on me while you were living here. I never really liked dogs much, but he’s a good boy.” He bent down and ruffled the fur on Pigeon’s head. “Yes, you are.”

  I stood there for a moment, Pigeon’s leash in hand, as I realized how lonely my dad must have been. He never really dated after my mother left, never remarried. Unless he’d kept his dating life a secret from me, I didn’t think he’d been with anyone at all since her.

  “Hey, Dad? Can I ask you something?”

  He grunted in response.

  “Does it bother you that I’m with Andrew because of what happened with my mom?” I asked.

  My dad raised an eyebrow, then shook his head.

  “Andrew’s a nice guy. A little old for you, in my opinion, but much like your dog, he’s grown on me. Why would Andrew have anything to do with your mother?”

  “Well, I mean, she did leave you for a musician and basically slept her way to a record deal -”

  “How the hell do you know that?” he asked.

  Oh, shit. I forgot that he’d never told me. I sat down on the couch, and I couldn’t read my dad’s face at all. I couldn’t figure out if he was angry or shocked or both. I supposed it was time to tell him what happened with Cassidy.

  “Cassidy came back,” I said. He sat down next to me. Pigeon seemed to realize he wasn’t getting off of his leash any time soon and laid down with a huff. “When I was fifteen.”

  “What?” he asked quietly.

  “I knew she was my mom, even though you’d destroyed the pictures. I’m the spitting image of her. No wonder you can barely look me in the eye most days,” I said. I kept my eyes trained on the floor. “She found me after school, here. You were at work, like usual. She talked to me, and she even went to one of my piano recitals. One of many that you never showed up to.”

  “April -”

  “At first, I thought it was going to be fine,” I continued. I interrupted him before he could say more. “I hardly remembered her, considering how young I was when she’d left. But there she was, telling me about her career. She told me she was in town for a concert, that she was going to be a big country star. You know she wasn’t. I’m sure you know that the album flopped. But this was before the album did terribly. It was right after it was released. She went to my piano recital, and that was when her ugly came out. She told me that I was as worthless as you, and that if I wanted to make it in the music business, I was going to have to sleep my way to the top, just like she did.”

  “That’s when you quit,” my dad said.

  “That’s when I quit,” I admitted. “I didn’t want to be her. And I never wanted you to know about this. She didn’t even stop to see you when she was in town. I’m sorry.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’m glad I didn’t see her. It wouldn’t have gone well.”

  “No kidding,” I said. “So that was why I was wondering if you were upset about me being with Andrew.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

  “I wasn’t thrilled with you two at first, but I’m fine now. But April, you know that dating Andrew… It doesn’t mean you’re becoming her, right? She was not a nice person. She married me because of you. The moment an opportunity for her to leave came along, she took it. I always thought she’d never looked back after that, but apparently she did. God, I can’t believe that’s why you quit. But you’re going back to it now, right? You loved it so much. I hate to think that she ruined that for you.”

  “I’m kind of going back to it, yeah,” I said. “But I’m still afraid that I’m just like her. I’m dating a guy in a band, I’m only on his album because I’m with him…”

  “No, April. It’s not the same. You’re not her.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t believe him, of course. How could I, when the proof was literally staring back at me every time I looked in the mirror?

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “I know I always distanced myself from you. I was never the greatest father. I’m sorry for that. But I do think you should stick with music. Don’t give it up. It’s the right path for you, I think. You never did find anything else you loved the way you loved that piano.”

  He was right. Nothing in the world compared to the feeling of sitting at a piano, letting the music come out of my fingertips. Not even being with Andrew could give me that feeling.

  “I should probably get going,” I said.

  “Stop by more often,” he said. “With Andrew and Pigeon, maybe? I’d like to see them again.”

  “Okay.”

  I gave him a smile and walked out of the door.

  The rest of Andrew’s tour dragged by. I missed him, and while hanging out with Joan was great, she wasn’t a perfect replacement for the Washington sibling I wanted by my side. Especially since I didn’t want to fuck her, so she couldn’t exactly give me everything Andrew could.

  Some days I hung out with Calvin or Joan, others I worked, then of course, there were the days that I spent doing nothing but dancing around the apartment with Pigeon and caving in and playing the piano.

  Talking to my dad about Cassidy made me feel a little bit better about the piano, but I wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with it. I was getting there, though.

  Sometimes, when I stood in front of the keyboard, all I heard was her voice, telling me how worthless I was, how I wasn’t going to make it unless I slept with someone who could get me there. Then my phone would buzz with a text from Andrew and I’d have to sit down and think about all of my life choices again. My mind became a jumbled mess of music notes and anxiety over being just like her.

  I began to wonder if my relationship with Andrew was even a good idea.

  Not having him around didn’t help the situation. How was I supposed to justify this relationship with a musician to myself when he wasn’t even around to talk me into it? Not that I really wanted him to have to talk me into staying with him. I just wanted him there to talk to. Though trying to talk to him about the situation might be a little weird.

  “Hey, I don’t know if I should be with you, because I’m afraid that I subconsciously started this whole thing to get a career in music,” I’d say.

  He’d likely respond, “What career in music? You refuse to have one.”

  And he’d have a point.

  The loneliness didn’t leave my heart, even with a few people around who cared abou
t me. I missed Andrew, and missing him made me miss Erica even more than I already did. I missed having her in my life, having someone to talk to about the guy in my life without having to worry about grossing them out.

  I pulled out my phone at the beginning of March and looked at my text message logs. Nothing from Erica since she sent me a text on January first that simply said “Happy New Year!!” with ten different party emojis. I ignored the pang of my heart as I stared at it and scrolled back to Andrew’s name.

  Me:

  I miss you.

  And your dick.

  But mostly you.

  Andrew:

  I miss you too.

  We have to go on this podcast, so I’m about to turn off my phone again. I’m sorry.

  With a sigh, I put my phone and grabbed my keys, telling Pigeon I’d be home later. I decided to visit Calvin at Cranberry, if he was working. If not, I could always just get a danish to go. If he was there, it might help ease my loneliness pains for a little bit.

  On my way there, I sang with the radio in my car automatically, as I always did. It wasn’t until the chorus that I realized - I was singing along to “My Favorite Month.” The single version, the one they’d recorded in the official studio. It was on the radio! I squealed as I pulled into the parking lot next to Cranberry and rushed in the door.

  “Calvin, turn up the radio!”

  He hit the volume and I heard Andrew’s voice ringing out loud and clear through the speakers. It was almost as if he was there, sitting on the stage, singing it to me for the very first time as I stood by the counter, sticky with soda. I closed my eyes and rested against the counter, just like I had on the day he sang it for me. Except now I had the ability to pull away from the counter without the soda residue trying to keep me there.

  “Isn’t this the song that he sang in here? The one about you?” Calvin asked.

  I nodded wildly with a smile.

  “I had no idea it was going to be the first single! I figured it would be one of them, since they included it on the four song EP and I knew the single was going to be one of those. But I didn’t know it would be their debut! This is the best surprise ever. And they sound amazing, don’t they? Their producers are really good.”

  It was definitely different than the demo version, and a bit different from when they played it at concerts. It was a thousand times different than the acoustic version, but that was expected.

  Calvin nodded.

  “It’s not too bad. They’re definitely talented. I can see what you see in them.”

  Right as the song ended, the DJ came on.

  “That was the new single from Peristerophobia. They have a weird-ass band name, but they’re damn good. Their debut album, The Stone Pigeon, will be out April twenty-fifth. Definitely one to listen to. I got to listen to an advance copy and it was fantastic.”

  I was outraged at this injustice. How did he get to listen to the album already, and I didn’t? I was the one fucking the lead singer. I said all this to Calvin, and he shrugged.

  “The label probably sent it to radio stations and didn’t tell the guys that they were doing it,” Calvin said.

  I nodded.

  “That makes sense. I wonder if Andrew’s heard it yet. I’ll have to message him later about it. I’m so happy he’s doing so well. I’m just… I’m so proud of him. Of them. Soon enough, they’ll be selling out stadiums, not just small venues. They’ve accomplished so much.”

  “They deserve it. From what I can tell, they’ve worked their asses off to get to where they are now.”

  “Yeah, they did. I’m going to see if I can get Andrew on the phone. He said he was turning his phone off, but I can at least leave him a voicemail. Sorry, I totally came by to hang out with you while you worked, but… I have to go freak out about this.”

  “It’s fine. Go, have fun.”

  He waved goodbye to me as I walked out the door with the phone next to my ear, chattering away to Andrew’s voicemail.

  The days went by in a blur from there. Eventually, Andrew walked through the door to the apartment and Pigeon proceeded to flip the fuck out.

  “Hey,” Andrew said.

  I squealed and jumped off the couch, pushed my dog out of the way, and hugged Andrew. I stopped at the scent of him and pushed away. He didn’t smell right. I leaned away.

  “What’s that smell?” I asked.

  “Hello to you, too,” he said. “I’m sure I smell great after three months on the road. Thanks for the reminder that I need a shower. I’ll do that in a minute.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s,” I said as I stuck my nose right next to his shoulder and took a big whiff, “something else. Oh my god. You don’t smell like cigarettes. Did you quit?”

  I didn’t have a problem with him smoking, it was his choice. But it really wasn’t a great habit for him to have, especially as a singer. I was mostly surprised that he hadn’t mentioned it.

  “No, I’m still smoking. Just in a different way,” he said. He pulled a vape pen out of his pocket. “Yuri got me into it. This one tastes like blueberries and it still gives me a hit of nicotine.”

  “Weird. I think I almost prefer the cigarette smoke smell. Why didn’t you mention it to me?”

  He shrugged.

  “I thought I had. Must have slipped my mind. Sorry, babe.” He walked past me and into the bathroom, where I heard the shower turn on. “Want to hop in with me? I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to leave again. Meeting with Jarrod. He gave us a whole hour to put our shit back at our places and get clean.”

  “I took a shower this morning, thanks,” I said.

  “April. Come on. I wasn’t suggesting that you get in there to wash yourself.”

  Of course. I rolled my eyes. He knew full well that the shower was the worst place to have sex in the apartment. It wasn’t big enough for it. The few times we got away with it in there, it wasn’t the best sex we ever had. We usually ended up on the bathroom floor by the end of it or back in bed, soaking the sheets with our still-wet bodies.

  “Maybe after you get out,” I suggested. “If you still have time. If not, you’ll just have to wait until you’re back from your meeting. Or you can be late.”

  He stripped off his shirt and jeans, then pulled me close for a soft kiss. Fuck, his mouth felt good. It quickly went to hard and wanting, to his hands pushing into my underwear, to me panting in his mouth.

  “Andrew, you’re going to be late for your meeting,” I said as he circled his thumb over and over again in just the right spot.

  “Worth it,” he said.

  He finished his very important task, gave me another quick kiss, then stripped out of the rest of his clothes and hopped into the shower. With wobbly legs, I sat down on the closed toilet.

  “So, what’s the meeting about?” I asked. I had to speak up so he could hear me through the water.

  “Probably something about our album launch,” he said. “Speaking of, I think the launch party is going to be really close to your birthday. Sorry in advance for overshadowing your twenty-first.”

  “No worries. It’s not like I don’t already drink. It’ll just be legal when I do it from then on.” We were silent for a moment while he washed himself and I picked at the chipping polish on my nails. “I saw your album cover reveal last week. It looks amazing.”

  It was a more professional version of their usual pigeon wearing headphones drawing. It was exactly what I expected from the album.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Shit!”

  “You okay?”

  “Soap in my eye. Fuck. Hold on,” he said. I heard nothing but the shower for a moment. “Okay, good. Got it. So. Um. Did you want to come to the meeting? See what it would be like to actually join the band?”

  I let out a huff of frustration and left the bathroom without another word. A moment later, I heard the shower turn off and Andrew walked out, wiping his skin dry with a towel.

  “What the hell, April?”

  “No, I don�
��t want to go with you. If you don’t leave now, you’ll be late.”

  “I talked to Vic,” he said. “He’s cool with updating the contracts to include you. All you have to do is sign. And don’t say you don’t want this, because it’s obvious that you do. You wouldn’t have agreed to ‘Spackling’ if you didn’t.”

  “I sang that song for you, not for me.”

  It was halfway truthful. I did it for both of us. I did love that song. But if I kept it up, kept using him to play the piano and sing, using him to get my music out in the world, I’d never be able to live with myself. It was either him or the music. I realized that while he was gone. I couldn’t have both.

  “Shit, I really do have to go.” He walked into the bedroom and tossed on fresh clothes. “Promise me you’ll at least think about it? I can get the new contracts messengered over here quickly.”

  “Go to your meeting, Andrew.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Fucking go already,” I said.

  He stared at me, not moving from his spot next to the door.

  “Promise.”

  “I’m not going to promise anything. Please, go. I can’t do this right now.”

  “I’m not leaving until you promise me that you’ll at least think about it,” he argued.

  “Fuck, Andrew! Can you stop being such an asshole? I said I didn’t want to officially join the band. I said I would do one song with you. One song is not a commitment. Why do you keep fighting me on this? Just fucking listen to me when I say that I don’t want it.”

  His nostrils flared and he folded his arms, staring daggers at me.

  “I don’t understand you at all. You keep saying you don’t want it, then you put in all this work, and you’re clearly as dedicated to the music as I am. You were just as determined as I was to get that song as perfect as possible. You’re so fucking frustrating. Do you even know how many people would kill for me to offer them a spot in my band? How many people would love a contract with Little Plaid Dress Records?”