by Burke, Dez
She’s sitting on her bed in a pair of gray shorts and one of my old, tattered t-shirts. She’d asked me to leave her a couple of my favorite shirts because she said it made her feel closer to me.
“Is this a bad time?” she asks softly, her voice almost a whisper. “Did I wake you?”
“No, it’s fine. We just finished up the concert. I’m in my bunk on the bus.”
“Are you by yourself? I can barely see you in the dark.”
“For now,” I say. “The band are all out somewhere getting a drink while the equipment is being loaded up. We’ll be driving on to the next city in a couple of hours. Let me turn on a light. Hang on.” I reach up and switch on the overhead light. “Is this better? Can you see me now?”
She smiles at me, and my heart immediately fills with overwhelming longing for her. I want to reach through the screen and brush her long hair behind her shoulders. Or crawl under the covers with her, pull her close against my side, and cuddle while we talk about our day.
I miss her like crazy.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Tell me. It’s not normal for you to call this late. You should be asleep by now.”
“Nothing’s wrong,” she reassures. “Except that I miss hearing your voice. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to try to catch you instead.”
“I miss you too,” I reply. “I wish you were here with me.” I turn the cellphone so she can see the tight space I sleep in. “Except it would be a tight fit.”
“The same,” she says with a little laugh. She pats the pillow beside her. “We’d be more comfortable here for sure. I’m not sure where you’re sleeping can be called a real bed.”
“Sorry about not keeping in touch as much lately,” I say quickly. “I’ve been trying to find a good time. I feel bad disturbing your sleep at night when you work hard and stand on your feet all day. In the afternoons and evenings, I’m either rushing around giving radio interviews, rehearsing, or performing. Most of the time, I can barely hear myself think, much less make a phone call in privacy. Someone is always standing right beside me listening in or dragging me off to do something.”
She nods, a little sadly. “I understand. We’ve both been busy lately.”
“I’m always thinking about you though,” I say in an upbeat, cheerful voice, trying to bring a smile to her beautiful face. My words fall flat and sound lame, even to me.
“How is the tour going?” she asks. “Are you having fun?”
“We’re making good music and that’s what matters,” I reply. “The fans are enjoying the shows. The tour is about the same as always. No worse, no better. Touring has its moments, I guess.”
For some reason, I can’t tell her the dark truth.
That I’m miserable and lonely.
That all I think about is her and the life I left behind.
To admit it would make her think I’m doing all this for nothing. That I left her behind for something that isn’t making me happy either.
It all seems such a waste.
I keep holding out, hoping things will get better and that one morning I’ll wake up with a better attitude. That something will happen to make me believe I made the right decision to come back on tour.
“The concerts are selling out as soon as the tickets go on sale,” I say. “Harry thinks that maybe in my case, absence truly did make the hearts grow fonder. He’s forgiven me for canceling the summer shows because the ticket sales now are more than making up for it. The record label is over-the-top happy too. They want to get me back into the studio soon to record new music. I’m already writing the song lyrics for a few new ones.”
“I’m glad everything is working out well for you,” Annie says quietly.
A long, uncomfortable silence follows.
All our lives, our conversations always flowed smoothly. Now we’re almost strangers struggling to make polite small talk when we could easily finish each other’s sentences in the past.
I hate it.
Annie is rapidly slipping through my fingers while I’m standing by like an idiot watching it happen and paralyzed to stop it.
Again.
The realization twists me up inside.
I sit up in my bunk and reach out to touch her image on my phone. “Annie, is there any way you can take a weekend off from work?” I ask. “You’ve been working overtime so much lately. I would hope they would give you a single weekend off.”
“Why?” she asks, perking up a little and sitting higher on the pillows. “Are you coming home? That would be fantastic! Lily would be thrilled to see you. I’m sure Cole and your dad would be too.”
“Well, no,” I reply, watching the light die in her eyes. “I was hoping I could fly you to Los Angeles in a couple of weeks for a televised music awards show. I’m one of the featured performers and a presenter. I’d love it if you would be my date for the evening. I could show my girl off to the band and the crew.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she says, a shadow of uncertainty crossing her face. “I would need to find someone to cover my shifts at the pharmacy, and I don’t have anything nice to wear. Certainly not a dress good enough to wear to a fancy awards show. I would need to drive up to Atlanta to one of the malls to find something, and I don’t have time in the next couple of weeks to make the trip. This is short notice.”
“You’re turning me down because you don’t have a dress?” I ask, disappointed. “What’s the real reason?”
“Levi, you know I’m not quite ready for that kind of thing,” she says, turning away from me. “I’m a small-town country girl, not a glitzy movie star. There would be photographers everywhere taking our photos. Remember the things they said about me before? I’m still trying to live that down. I don’t know if I’m ready to face the press again.”
“You’re turning me down flat? You won’t come with me as my date?”
“Not this time,” she says, give her head a little shake. “I’m sorry. I’m sure it would be fun, but I would need to work up my nerve before attending a fancy event. At least take the time to get a haircut and do something different with my makeup. I don’t want to be torn apart in the media again. The last time was rough, if you remember.”
I’m quiet, trying to gather my thoughts. I wouldn’t want to put Annie in a situation where she would feel uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I would do to her. She’s right. A big public event might be too much, and there’s always a chance the press would do another number on her. They’ll say anything to sell their fucking magazines.
“In that case, will you come to one of my concerts then? I need to see you. Even if it’s just one night. I need you here with me, Annie. You don’t know how much. Please, I’m asking you. You wouldn’t need to buy any fancy clothes for a concert so you can’t use that as an excuse. What you’re wearing right now would be just fine. Shorts and one of my old t-shirts. Though you might need to put on some shoes. Your pretty bare toes might get stomped on in the rowdy crowd. And your hair is perfect just the way it is, soft and tumbling over your shoulders.”
I hold my breath, hoping she’ll agree. Indecision crosses her face. I wait for her to tell me that I can always come back home if I want to see her so bad. That my family needs me back in Monroe too.
Instead she surprises me by nodding and smiling back at me. My mood lifts immediately.
“I can fly to Orlando this weekend for your concert there,” she says. “I’m sure I can get the time off considering how much overtime I’ve put in lately. My co-workers owe me big time. Will that work for your schedule or is another date better?”
“Damn right it’ll work, sweetheart,” I say, grinning back at her. “I hope you’re not joking around with me. This is the best news I’ve heard in the longest time. I can’t wait for you to meet my band.”
“If you want me to come, I will,” she says. “I miss you, Levi.”
“I miss you too, sweetheart.”
Her smile slowly drops and she glances down at her hands.
When she looks back up at me, her blue eyes are filled with tears.
Oh shit.
46
Levi
After my conversation with Annie, I’m restless and full of anxiety. I can’t sit here by myself in the dark anymore replaying our conversation, wondering where I fucked up and what I should’ve said to make things better.
I scramble out of bed, grab a beer out of the small refrigerator, and step off the bus into the arena’s dark parking lot.
“Great show tonight, Levi!” One of the crew lifts his hand in greeting and calls out to me. He’s busy loading our musical instruments carefully into the underside of the bus.
“Are we almost packed up and ready to go?” I ask him. “The band is still out partying. I should call them if you’re finished loading.”
“It’ll be another hour or so, and then we’ll be on our way to Charleston,” he says. “They have fantastic shrimp and grits there, I’ve heard. Do you want to come out with the crew for dinner tomorrow night? Blow off some steam? You’ve been working your ass off on this tour. We barely see you except on stage.”
“I’d love to,” I say, taking another swig of my beer. “Except Harry will probably have me booked solid once we get there. He never lets me out of his sight these days. Almost as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he gives me too much time away from him. If he had it his way, he’d put a black leather collar around my neck and keep me on a leash. Maybe one of you can bring me back a to-go plate.”
“I’ll be glad to,” he says. “You’re the only reason my bills are being paid these days, Levi. It’s the least I can do for the star of the show. I’m grateful for my job.”
“I’d appreciate it. Have you ever been to Charleston? I’ve heard it’s nice.”
“Nope, have you?” he asks.
“No, it’s just another city and another arena parking lot to me. After a while on tour they all look the same when the view is from the bus. Charleston, Memphis, St. Louis, Chicago. I can’t tell one from the other anymore. We could be playing in the same damn place every night and it wouldn’t make a difference.”
“We’re not here for a grand tour of the world,” he says, grunting loudly while rearranging the equipment so it will all fit in the luggage compartment. “You know what I mean? It’s not as if you’re giving out travel tips on stage. You’re here to sing for your fans. That’s it. And the rest of us are here to make sure you sound the best you can up on stage. If we do that, who cares where we are? Once we’re old and retired, we can buy an RV and travel around with our old ladies to see the sites. When we don’t have anything better to do.”
“That’s right,” I say. “We’ll have all the time in the world to do those things.”
When he walks away, I lean back against the side of the bus and stare up at the night sky. Not a single star is visible due to the bright city skyline. Back on the farm, every night sky is filled with glittering stars if the weather is clear. I took them for granted the same as everything else, until I began to forget the stars ever existed at all. One day I simply stopped searching for them.
Annie was smart enough to see through my lies when I told her we’d have a blast if she came on tour with me.
I was only saying things to convince her to join me because I couldn’t bear leaving her behind. I told her we’d travel and see the world together.
Hell, I’m not seeing the world.
All I’m doing is seeing is the dirty back sides of arenas and smelling the exhaust from idling tour buses.
This is no kind of life for her.
I realize that now.
A special woman like Annie needs stability and family. A home where she can plant tiny seeds and watch them grow. She deserves much better. A life with roots and family.
Maverick walks up and leans back against the tour bus beside me. “You’re mopey and depressed-looking for a guy who just blew the ceiling off a stadium filled with ninety thousand fans,” he says. “What’s making you so gloomy tonight?”
“I talked to Annie. She’s flying out this weekend for our show in Orlando.”
“Well hell! No wonder you’re depressed!” Maverick chuckles and punches me on the shoulder. “I would be too. Having a girlfriend show up in the middle of a tour is a damn downer all the way around. Man, that sucks! You have my deepest sympathy.”
“Not in my case,” I say. “I’m glad she’s coming for a visit. I miss her. It’s been five weeks since I was home.”
“Damn, you sound serious,” he says, frowning at me. “What’s the issue then if you want her to come visit?”
“She said we needed to have a talk.”
“Oh shit,” he says. “That can’t be good. Nobody wants to hear the ‘we need to talk’ line from a woman. Those little chit-chats never end well. At least not in my experience. Why do women always want to talk? Fucking is much better and can fix any problem as far as I’m concerned. Less talking, more fucking. That’s my motto. It serves me well.”
“Thanks Maverick, you’re a big help,” I say. “I feel much better already. You’re a real confidence booster.”
“Sorry about that,” he says. “I’m afraid I’m not much help when it comes to relationships or giving advice. Did you know I was engaged once?”
“No, I didn’t.” I turn to get a better look at him to see if he’s joking. “For some reason, that surprises me. I can’t see you settling down to be a family man with a house, wife, and kids.”
“I was prepared to be,” he replies. “At the time it sounded pretty damn good. I met her one night in a bar and fell head over heels in love.” He takes a swig of his beer. “Darlene was her name and she was something else. Wild and free. Full of life. I spotted her dancing all by herself in the middle of a dance floor, not caring who was watching or if anyone was. I proposed a month after we met because I was terrified of losing her to some other guy. I knew I had a good thing with her even if we were both too young to get married. Other men would see it too.”
“Why did you break up?”
He waves a hand toward the arena and the tour bus. “All this is why,” he explains. “I was with another backup band at the time. We went on tour and I had to leave Darlene behind. Her family had a little restaurant in town, and they depended on her help. We tried keeping things together for a few months and just couldn’t. It ended on a bang, the same way it started.”
“You cheated on her?”
“No, believe it or not, I didn’t.” He leans his head back against the bus and closes his eyes for a moment before continuing. “There was no one particular reason why we ended it. I could name a million reasons why. Different time zones so we couldn’t catch each other on the phone. Jealousy over what the other one might be doing. Or who they might be doing.” He lets out a long sigh. “None of that mattered though. The damn truth is we didn’t want it bad enough. We could’ve made it work if we’d wanted it to. It was just easier to find excuses why not to try. We both took the easy way out. If there’s a will, there’s always a way. We just didn’t have enough will to work through the pain until we reached the other side. One night we had an explosive fight and that was it.”
“It sounds to me as if you have regrets over not trying to keep it together with her,” I say. “I always thought you liked the wild life of parties, booze, and loose women.”
“I regret losing Darlene every damn day. If I had it all to do over again, things would be different. She was a ‘once in a lifetime’ gal. At the time, I thought there would be plenty of women to come along later who could easily take her place. After I’d sowed my wild oats and was ready to settle down. It turns out, I was flat-out wrong. She was one of a kind, and I fucked up by letting her slip away. Regardless of what you might hear, good women aren’t a dime a dozen. They’re rare and priceless.”
He inspects his empty bottle and tries to stifle a yawn with hi
s hand. “There’s no need crying into my beer about it now,” he says. “What’s done is done. Now she’s married to another man with a couple of kids and I’m here with your sorry ass. I’m heading on inside the bus to get some shuteye. I’m tired and ready to hit the sack. I’ll see you in the morning.” He claps me on the shoulder as he moves past me.
“Goodnight,” I tell him.
Maverick climbs up the steps of the tour bus, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Where will I be in five years? Or ten?
The thought of standing here by a tour bus with nothing but regrets leaves me cold.
47
Annie
I’m on my way to visit the farm when a car suddenly stops in front of me to make a left turn. I reach over to the passenger seat of my car to make sure my freshly-made chicken casserole hasn’t spilled. Since Levi left, I’ve been doing my best to help Cole out when I can, mostly by bringing the family home-cooked meals.
That’s the one thing Southern women can be counted on to do when a family is in crisis; cook and deliver comfort food.
For the past few weeks, Cole has been having trouble getting his dad to eat anything besides junk food. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because of what’s being offered to him. I wouldn’t be excited about frozen meals or takeout either.
Once I started bringing an occasional meal of Edward’s old favorites to the farmhouse, his appetite picked right back up again. I’m glad to be able to help in a small way, and being around the family makes me feel closer to Levi. Sometimes when I walk into the kitchen, I can almost convince myself Levi is upstairs taking a shower or out in the barn stacking hay bales.
Now that the construction on the house addition has started, the farmhouse is buzzing with activity. Levi hired a local construction company to complete the addition with a strict deadline in place.
When I pull up in front of the farmhouse, I’m amazed at the number of construction workers hurrying around, carrying lumber, sawing, and hammering nails.