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Desperate Chances

Page 3

by A. Meredith Walters


  My chest felt tight and I tried to swallow around the large, annoying lump in my throat.

  “He’s better off, Viv. Trust me.”

  Vivian scowled at me. “If this is about your demons or whatever—”

  “Drop it, Vivian. Please,” I interrupted her.

  We stared at each other for a long few minutes, but finally she nodded and picked up her phone again.

  “You’re making a big mistake by not trying to work things out with Mitch. You love him. You belong together. I know that if you don’t go for it you’ll regret it for the rest of your life. Just sayin’. And that’s all I’m going to say about it. This time.”

  Her threat was given with a smile, but I knew she wouldn’t let it drop.

  My stomach clenched as her words bounced around in my head.

  You’re going to regret it for the rest of your life.

  I was already swimming in a sea of regret. And I was pretty sure I was going to drown.

  “You’re back!” Vivian shrieked, throwing open the front door, letting it bounce off the wall. I watched her from the couch as she propelled herself at the person standing in the hallway.

  “Viv, please, let me in before you maul me,” Maysie laughed, pushing her way into the apartment, pulling a suitcase in behind her.

  I got to my feet and went to give one of my best friends a hug. “Hey you,” I grinned, wrapping my arms around her thin frame.

  Maysie gave me a squeeze. “Hey back.”

  Vivian frowned. “Why are you here? What’s wrong?” she demanded, her joy at seeing our friend erased by suspicion.

  “Wow, thanks for the warm greeting,” Maysie muttered, sitting down on the couch. She looked tired. Her skin was pale and there were dark circles under eyes.

  “You look like shit, Mays. What’s going on?” Vivian asked, sitting down beside her. I joined them and the three of us sat squished together like we had done a hundred times before. If Riley were here it would have felt like old times.

  “Vivian, don’t be a dick,” I scolded.

  “You are what you love,” Vivian giggled and I groaned.

  Maysie laughed, but it sounded halfhearted. “Nothing’s going on. I just needed a break. Living on a bus with a bunch of guys takes a lot out of a girl. Sometimes I need a breather. Nothing to worry about, Viv, so stop freaking out.”

  “Things with Jordan okay?” I asked her quietly.

  Maysie smiled and it was genuine if a little on the exhausted side. “Yes. We’re fine. Don’t worry. I honestly just missed you guys and wanted to spend some time in a place that doesn’t smell like gym socks and aftershave.” We all laughed. “And things have been tense since the phone call with Pirate. I thought it would be best for the guys to have some time without the wife around.”

  Vivian had mentioned that the outcome of the phone call with Pirate Records hadn’t been very positive. The label, unhappy with diminishing album and ticket sales, had told them that unless things turned around, they would have no choice but to drop them. Now the guys felt more pressure than ever to make the last three shows on their tour successful.

  “I just wish there was something more that I could do to help them. But Mitch called his cousin Josh, who is now head of marketing for another label, to see if there’s anything more they can do. Pirate isn’t giving them much to work with unfortunately so they’re feeling they have to do it for themselves.” Maysie sighed and I could see how upset she was. If Jordan was bothered by something, then Maysie was too. It’s how they operated.

  Vivian got to her feet suddenly. “I need to call Cole. I can’t stand the thought of him worrying about this. He’ll need me!” she exclaimed, dashing from the room.

  Maysie shook her head. “It’s hard to believe they used to have a no-strings-attached arrangement.”

  I grinned, “Now they’re all pet names and baby talk. It’s nauseating.”

  Maysie patted my knee. “Now we just need to find someone for you so we can all be nauseating together,” she teased. I instantly tensed and pulled away slightly.

  “I’m fine on my own,” I remarked dismissively. “Who needs a guy when I’ve got Friday nights full of General Hospital marathons and Chinese takeout?”

  “Damn, that sounds pretty freaking fantastic! Where do I sign up?” Maysie laughed. “But seriously, I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t fine on your own. We’re modern women after all. We don’t need a man.”

  “But you have a man, don’t forget,” I reminded her with my patented Gracie Cook everything-is-fine-here smile plastered all over my mug. I flicked my hair over my shoulder. “Besides he has to be super hot and saves puppies in his spare time for me to even bother.”

  “Well of course,” Maysie agreed, patting my knee.

  “Well of course what?” Vivian asked, coming out from her bedroom.

  “That was a quick conversation. Did Cole even have a chance to put his hands in his pants?” I asked, tongue in cheek.

  Vivian pursed her lips. “They were on their way to get something to eat. He said he’d call me later.”

  “How did he seem?” I asked after she sat down on the chair opposite us.

  “He seemed okay. He mentioned that Josh had called Mitch earlier and given him some advice but Cole didn’t get into specifics.”

  Mitch. Ugh. Cue stomach clenching and butterflies.

  “Oh. Well that’s good. Josh is a great guy,” I said lamely. Josh was Mitch’s cousin who had helped schedule Generation Rejects’ very first tour years ago. He had been working in the music industry for long enough to know the ropes.

  “Let’s talk about something more upbeat,” Vivian remarked, changing the subject abruptly. “How about the wedding? Have you and Jordan finally set a date?” she asked Maysie.

  Maysie ducked her head and started playing with a piece of string on the hem of her shirt. “Well it’s hard to plan a wedding when we’re on the road all the time,” she excused and Vivian and I both groaned.

  “Come on! You’ve been engaged for forever! Are you going to be one of those couples who won’t get married until you have grandkids?” I asked her, nudging her knee with mine.

  Maysie threw her hands up in the air. “I’m surrounded by men most of the time and Jordan is zero help! We know we want to get married this summer. Probably in August. But every time I try to talk to him about it all he says is ‘whatever you want, baby.’” We all started laughing at Maysie’s dead on imitation of her fiancé.

  “What about your mom? Could she help you?” Vivian asked hesitantly. Maysie’s relationship with her parents was rocky. It was one of the things that had always connected us. We both understood what it was like to dislike your parents as much as you loved them.

  “She’s happy for me, I guess. Though it’s hard to know behind that thin layer of disapproval. It’s difficult to ask for wedding planning help when I’m fending off the usual when are you going to do something with your life questions. Apparently running the band’s social media platforms, maintaining their website and interfacing with the marketing department of the record label isn’t good enough for her. And let’s not even bring up my dad’s feelings about my life,” Maysie huffed.

  “Well, we’d love to help you. Hello! Flowers, decorations, cake tasting! I’m all over it,” I enthused.

  Vivian was practically bouncing up and down in her chair. “Oh my god, Mays, let us help you! We’ll make it fabulous!”

  Maysie face split into a large grin. “You girls are the best. What would I do without you?”

  “Get married on the tour bus, and then eat pizza and drink Bud Light at your reception?” I offered.

  Vivian leaned down and pulled out a stack of magazines from the side of the coffee table. “It so happens I just bought the newest bridal magazines the other day.”

  Maysie and I exchanged a look, each of us raising our eyebrows in surprise. “You’ve been buying bridal magazines?” Maysie asked, not able to hide her amusement.

 
“Does Cole know what you do in your spare time?” I teased.

  Cole Brandt and marriage seemed as incongruous as eggs and ketchup. Some things just weren’t meant to go together.

  Vivian stiffened marginally and I wondered if this was a sore spot for her. “A girl can dream, right?” she said breezily. She opened up the magazine on top and flipped through the pages until she landed on a page that had been dog-eared.

  “Look at this dress. I saw it and immediately thought of you,” she exclaimed, handing it to Maysie.

  I scootched over and looked down at the beautiful woman in a sleeveless wedding gown. It was pretty simple. No long train or elaborate stitching. It was tasteful with a straight skirt that ran to the floor. The scooped neckline was plain but for a line of beads stitched along the edge.

  “Wow, it’s amazing,” Maysie breathed, her face going all dewy.

  “That dress is perfect for a summer wedding! Oh! You should have an outdoor ceremony. Something small. Just friends and family. Maybe you could have it in the meadow behind Garrett’s. The one that borders the river!” Vivian continued.

  “That sounds perfect,” Maysie smiled, running her fingers along the lines of the dress.

  “So figure out what day in August you want to get hitched so we can start planning. I think everyone could use something to look forward to,” I suggested.

  “Oh my god, we have to wear these bridesmaid dresses!” Vivian squealed, pulling the magazine from Maysie’s lap and turning to another page. When she pointed to a dress I made a face.

  “No way, Viv. You are not going to get me in a dress with rhinestones!” I shrieked.

  Vivian stuck out her tongue. “If you have your way, the bridesmaids would be wearing something boring with sleeves and a sash.”

  “And if you have your way, we’ll all be wearing leopard print with our boobs falling out,” I threw back good-naturedly.

  “Okay, no need to duke it out over dresses. I’ll pick something with everyone’s tastes in mind,” Maysie assured us.

  We spent the next hour looking through Vivian’s secret stash of wedding magazines while Maysie made notes of what she liked and didn’t like. We called Riley and put her on speakerphone as we hashed out ideas.

  “Okay, well before I get off here, are you guys all still planning to come to the show in Norfolk this weekend?” Riley asked as we were winding down the conversation.

  “Of course! We wouldn’t miss it. I told Jordan I’d be back on Friday,” Maysie said, closing up the magazines.

  “What about you, G, are you coming this time?” Riley asked and I could picture her standing in front of me with her hand on her hip and a no nonsense expression on her face.

  “I—uh—I have stuff going on,” I said.

  “Is this the same stuff that has kept you from coming to the last ten performances?” Riley pressed and I wished she were here so I could strangle her. She was too invasive for her own good. Or my own good.

  “I’m a very busy woman,” I stated forcefully.

  “Busy doing what?” Riley pushed.

  Vivian snickered. “Yeah, busy doing what?” I glared at my roommate.

  “I scheduled a facial for Saturday morning and I had some plans to reorganize my closet. You know how seriously I take de-cluttering,” I muttered, knowing how ridiculous I sounded.

  Riley didn’t say anything and Maysie was furiously chewing on her bottom lip. Vivian rolled her eyes and gave me a pointed look that I refused to interpret.

  “Oh come on. It’ll be fun,” Riley said and I sighed.

  “Fine. I’ll go. But I can’t stay the whole weekend. I need to be back early on Sunday. I have to finish the article I’ve been working on and get it off to my editor,” I caved. I knew my excuses would never hold up against Riley Walker’s pushing and prodding.

  Besides, maybe it would be fun. It had been a long time since I had hung out with my friends. And I loved listening to Generation Rejects.

  More importantly, I loved watching Mitch Abrams play.

  “Woohoo!” Riley shouted and I grinned.

  “Let’s plan to meet at the hotel on Saturday evening. I’m getting into town on Friday afternoon, but Viv says she can’t leave until the next day, right?” Maysie asked and the conversation was steered to finalizing plans.

  I got up and headed to the kitchen. I opened the refrigerator and by habit searched for a bottle of wine that I had at one time always kept in the door.

  Instead I grabbed the jug of orange juice and poured myself a cup.

  “Hand me a soda,” Vivian said, coming into the room.

  I passed her the can and closed the refrigerator. Vivian pulled a box of crackers from the pantry and handed me some.

  I held them in my hand, not eating. I wasn’t particularly hungry so I put the crackers on the counter.

  “I’m so glad you decided to come to the show,” Vivian said.

  “I don’t think I was given much of a choice. Can you imagine what Ri would do if I told her I wasn’t coming?” I laughed.

  “It wouldn’t have been pretty. But whatever, I’m just happy she got you to come. It’ll be like old times,” Vivian exclaimed, grinning.

  Old times.

  Not quite.

  “Sure. Old times,” I agreed unenthusiastically.

  Vivian took a drink of her soda, watching me the whole time. Her phone chirped in her pocket and she fished it out, quickly tapping out a text. When she was finished she looked back at me.

  “Well, it could be like old times if you’d stop being so stubborn,” she pointed out.

  Her phone beeped again and I was relieved for the distraction.

  “I think you’re being summoned,” I said.

  Vivian’s face went soft. “Yeah. I’d better go call him.”

  When she was gone, I picked up the crackers and ate two of them.

  Maybe going to the show this weekend would be a good thing. Maybe I could talk to Mitch.

  And maybe I could just go and enjoy myself and not worry about what Mitch Abrams was doing or who he was doing it with.

  I could just go and be with my friends and forget about the bullshit.

  Yeah.

  That sounded like a plan.

  An extremely unrealistic plan.

  I was heading out to lunch when my phone rang. I was instantly filled with dread, thinking it was most likely my mother.

  Could I get away with ignoring it?

  There was no way. I’d pay for it in spades later if I dared.

  So I pulled out my phone from the depths of my purse and glanced at the display and was surprised to see a name I hadn’t expected.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey there, girlie. Long time, no talk. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” The lazy drawl made me smile.

  I chuckled, instantly in a good mood. “I’m not avoiding you, Garrett. You wouldn’t let me anyway.”

  “Damn straight. I know where you live,” he teased.

  “Now that’s a threat if I ever heard one,” I joked back, enjoying our easy banter. Garrett Bellows was someone I could not speak to in months and pick up the phone and chat like no time had passed. We had always been close and I was thankful that our friendship hadn’t been destroyed during my downward spiral.

  Our friendship began during one of the darkest times of my life. I had been horrible, not only to him, but to his girlfriend and my friend, Riley. But somehow they forgave me. Not only that, but our friendship became stronger than ever.

  I hadn’t realized how much I missed him until I heard him on the phone. There was something soothing about Garrett’s slow, easy voice.

  “No threat. Just a promise,” Garrett replied.

  I stopped outside the deli where I typically got a sandwich for lunch, waiting to go inside. It was cold and the air felt like snow, so I tightened the belt of my coat.

  “How’s everything going?” I asked.

  Garrett sighed. “They’ve been better. I’m sure you
’ve heard things have been pretty rough on the Generation Rejects road to fame.”

  “Yeah, Maysie’s in town, she filled me in. I’m so sorry, Garrett. But stuff will turn around. I’m sure of it,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic and confident.

  “Yeah, well, we’ll see. But I didn’t call to cry like a bitch on your shoulder, G,” he remarked.

  “Oh really? I thought crying like a bitch was totally your thing.”

  “Ouch. Man, you can be harsh,” Garrett laughed and I found myself grinning like a fool.

  “So what did you call for then?”

  “Riley says you’re coming to Norfolk this weekend. That’s great news. It’s been too long.” Garrett’s voice was light but there was a note of accusation.

  Here we go again. He and his girlfriend were going to be the death of me. “I’ve been busy, Garrett—”

  “Too busy to come to a show? Since when has that stopped you before?”

  “Life happens, Garrett. I thought you’d understand that. I’m trying to get myself straight. I have a job writing. Sure it’s not Pulitzer material, but it’s a start. No more slinging coffee for this gal. I have to wear nice clothes and use some semblance of social skills and everything,” I joked.

  “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you, kiddo.” And I knew he meant it. Garrett had always had my back. My best interests at heart. But there was a note of something else in his tone that he wasn’t making any effort to hide. “I know you’ve been through a tough time. I can also tell when there’s something else going on here. I know you and I know when you’re hiding something. I’ve seen it before, don’t forget.”

  Yeah, he had to go there. I winced at the implication even if it was totally deserved.

  I was quiet for a long time, not sure what to say. How do you find the words to admit that you no longer felt like part of a group that you had once belonged to? I didn’t want to tell him that I felt like an outsider. I wouldn’t whine and feel sorry for myself either.

 

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