Higher Octave (Heavy Influence #2.5)

by Ann Marie Frohoff

  She patted my arm. “I know you’re sorry. Let’s not dwell. It’s taken me a long time to let go of the past, and I just want to keep looking forward.”

  Me too. “Does Notting always come home late?”

  “Not usually, no.”

  I tucked my arms behind my head. “Mom.”

  “Yes.”

  “Did Notting ever tell you that we’ve talked?”

  “Of course, you know that.” She rolled over onto her side to face me. “But he never shared, in depth, what was said. Just that you two bonded. It was actually a contention between us for a long time, him keeping your confidence.”

  I inhaled deeply. My heart began to thump rapidly, and I cleared my throat. “Mom. Did you ever hear that Dad cheated on you?”

  Hearing her exhale heavily, I turned my head to see her wounded eyes staring back at me. She bit down on her bottom lip and said, “I’ll assume you did, or you wouldn’t be asking.”

  “Did you believe it? Or did you know?”

  She tipped back onto her back and bent her knees up. “I knew.”

  “And you just let him get away with it? How long did you know?”

  She pushed herself up and gathered the pillows against the padded cream-colored headboard, thinking.

  “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that. It was a long time ago, and you’ve moved on, finally.” I reached over, rubbing her arm. “I’m happy for you and Notting, no matter what the story is.”

  Her eyes pooled with tears, and she wiped them away with a swipe of her hands. Her words came out slowly as she pulled her knees to her chest. “I think because of what you’re going through with Alyssa, you understand the complexity of what some people go through when being in love. Not everyone has a hard time. They meet someone and it’s just that one person. There’s no fight from another, no third party, or love triangle. I loved Michael very much, we had a great life together, but in the end I’m not really sure why I chose him. I hate to say it was a mistake.”

  But it was a mistake. I was Notting’s son, not Michael’s, I wanted to say. I was riveted by her words. It was the most open she’d been about her life before me, and I wanted to know more—her side.

  To my surprise, she remained open, and spoke more. “Are these the things Notting shared with you? Did he tell you about Michael?” she asked cautiously.

  “No. Did he know?” I asked pointedly, thinking maybe he did know and that’s why he stuck around, waiting for her to find out on her own. But then my dad was killed in a car accident, and I thought she’d never find out. I’d kept that agonizing secret, that ate away at me, for nothing.

  “We never discussed it,” she shrugged, and her chest heaved with a sigh. “Jake, I have so much culpability in how our relationship came to pass.” She reached over, taking my hand, and rested it on her stomach. “You’re my greatest accomplishment, and Michael loved you very much. He said the same thing about you.” She released my hand and cupped the sides of her cheeks as she attempted to hold back tears. “I didn’t know. I really didn’t know that you could have been Notting’s son. I look into your eyes and see mine. I…but now that you’re a grown man…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “The older you got, I’d see you standing next to Notting…it was so obvious. You’re built just like him. You have his hands. I didn’t want to think about it, I…I pushed it so far down until I couldn’t take it anymore. I just had to know, so I took a paternity test.”

  Tears dripped from her eyes. “Michael always felt like he’d won. He was proud and arrogant. Notting saw me first. He was so sweet, nothing like Michael, in the Cavern in Liverpool. I was so young. Michael and him were best friends, and…well, everything happened the way it happened.” She sank, exhausted from the memories. “Michael took care of me. He dominated me.”

  “Mom…” I squeezed her hand. “As much as I wanna know. If it’s too difficult to talk about…”

  “No. You have to know. It wasn’t until I had you that I found my voice, and Notting was always there to listen. He was my biggest advocate, and after a while, Michael just faded into his own world. Notting gave me the courage to stand up to Michael.” She hugged my hand to her chest and kissed my knuckles. “You don’t need to know all the pessimistic details. Here we are. As it should have been.”

  3

  It’d been several months since I last saw Aly. The last time I’d seen her was at Bobby and Marshall’s wedding in June, and she’d attended with Nathan. There wasn’t much to say about it, other than she looked gorgeous in a cerulean strapless dress. It killed me to spy Nathan fawning over her. I left as soon as I made the rounds at the reception. I didn’t even bother saying hello to her, just tried to pretend they didn’t exist.

  I’d been keeping track of Aly through her brother Kyle once again, just like I did during our three-year separation while Aly was still in high school. My big plans to inject myself back into her life backfired when I found out she would be away playing beach volleyball in some foreign country all summer. Then my new aspirations at a solo career took me back to Britain until right before Christmas.

  Six months flew by in a blink of an eye.

  During that time, Kyle went and got married in Vegas. Nothing eventful. No one was there, and he’d settled in Hermosa Beach, the next town over. He had a baby on the way. I couldn’t image myself with a kid. I was only twenty-five, after all. Who does that anymore? I guessed Kyle did. His wife was the epitome of the sexy librarian. Lacey was her name, and he’d met her at his tech job. She was of average size and had a decent figure, though she hid beneath knee-length skirts and oversized blouses. When I first met her, I’d recognized something bubbling beneath the surface. Her pouty pink lips and almond-shaped green eyes caught my attention. I was stoked for Kyle.

  I wondered if my generation was getting married younger than my parents’ generation; first Marshall and Bobby, and now Kyle and Lacey, not to mention Dump and Sienna right out of high school. It just seemed so early to choose whom you’d spend the rest of your life with. Yet there I was, ready to marry Aly if she walked through the door and said yes. I had zero interest in a relationship with anyone else. Sure, I wanted to get laid and have a good time, but nothing else. I pondered the difference between all of us being ready to settle down, versus Aly being against it. My stomach curled with resentment that she was now engaged, ready to marry Nathan. But what did I expect? I put so much bad energy out there, I wouldn’t have wanted to marry me either.

  There I was back at home, like a teenager, depending on other people to give me rides. Notting was even back into pseudo-managing me.

  Full circle.

  I kicked my feet up onto the padded leather ottoman in front of me and watched Notting’s tattoos dance on his arms as he wrestled with some of my mother’s painting canvases. Seeing his tattoos made me touch my own unfinished tribute to Aly. Looking at it, I wanted it finished. The strands of hair needed a blue outline, the same blue that filled the music notes.

  “Not, you know this is the first time in my life that I don’t feel any pressure. Like zero.” I strummed the chords, plucking a tune I’d been mixing with some lyrics. “I think I’m gonna finally finish this tattoo, too,” I announced, with one last strum, and then slapped my left bicep.

  He swiveled his seat to face me and moved the blank canvas he had between his legs, leaning it against the sofa arm. He’d been screwing in metal wall mounts into the wood of the canvas’ frame. My mother was on a new kick. She’d begun painting.

  “Life is good, eh?” He smiled, and his handsome face folded together like an accordion. His new reading glasses balanced on the tip of his nose. I saw myself in him. I had his teeth.

  I bobbed my head. “So-so, but better than before. There’s no struggle.” Except for Aly.

  He stood and adjusted his black wide-legged sweat pants. “I’ve been talking to your old booking agent.”

  I perked up. “And?”

  “They’re ready when you are.”r />
  I held my breath. “Okay.” I was nervous, and I found it odd, almost like it would be my first time on stage. I’d played to sold-out stadiums and for millions of people watching award shows, but this was something new. I wasn’t sure when I’d be ready. I’d never been on stage without my friends.

  Notting looked at me fondly over his rimless glasses with a smile, as if he’d read my mind. “We’ll hire a drummer and a bass player and go from there. Simple.”

  ***

  Gabe Sherman was serious about his job. He was precise. He was stoic. He was articulate, and most of all, accommodating. He had to be, I supposed; he was my driver. A handsome Clint Eastwood-lookalike, he’d worked for the same limo service for over twenty years, which catered to studio executives and A-list celebrity clientele. Gabe was directly recommended to me by one of the new producers I was working with on my solo project. He was also the driver for several rock and music legends when they came into town. Gabe and I developed a similar relationship as I had with Marty, part friendship and part business.

  It was nearly show time.

  The famed Hotel Café in Hollywood with its dramatic red curtains was the stage backdrop. That’s where Notting had arranged for me to play my debut solo gig. I had to admit I was excited, and a bittersweet sensation crawled over me as I thought about Dump. I was thankful Bobby was back home from his last tour, and he was more than stoked when I asked if he’d play with me. We’d practiced, and then hired a guy Bobby recommended, Trev Stoneham, aka Stoney, as a drummer. It was nearly like old times – in my garage at first; then we moved to a rehearsal space.

  Six weeks later, the day came. Load in at Hotel Café was at 5:30 PM, and it was about 4 PM on a Thursday in mid-March. Cool and breezy, the trees rustled with each bluster of wind, and dark clouds began to roll in. I hoped it wouldn’t rain too hard or too long. I didn’t want the fans to get soaked. I’d heard there was a line at the venue trailing down the street. It’d begun forming at around noon. I was elated and relieved. There was a bit of fear in me that no one would come, since I’d fallen off the face of the planet in complete scandal.

  I’d arranged for Gabe to drive me for the evening, and he’d pulled up right in front of my driveway. I stood in my garage, packing my very first acoustic guitar in its case, and rubbed its glossy surface. Every time I picked her up, she sang to me in an authentic, fine voice, so different than any of my other guitars. It would be the first time I’d be performing on stage with her, she was my most prized possession, and I thanked God I’d left her in her case that one time, thinking back to when I’d busted my other acoustic guitar in a doped-up mad rage over something stupid – well, I didn’t think it was stupid at all, but still. She was the one that wrote all those hit songs with me, and now the world was going to finally meet her.

  As I was loading my guitar and backpack into the backseat of Gabe’s black Escalade, time stopped. A car I didn’t recognize pulled into Aly’s driveway. My mouth went instantly dry. I didn’t notice the driver, only her in the passenger seat.

  Was she with Nathan?

  I leaned into the back seat and unzipped my backpack, pretending to look for something, peering out the back window. Then relief flooded through me when I saw Allison, Aly’s older sister, step from the driver’s side.

  I backed out of the truck and looked over at them. Allison was waving wildly at me, smiling cheerfully. I couldn’t really place Aly’s expression, but it sat between shock and joy. I waved back, shutting the door and slowly trudged back toward my garage. I wanted so badly to go say hello to them, but I didn’t want to be intrusive.

  “What?” Allison’s voice sparked, and I turned, smiling. She threw her arms out. “You’re not gonna come and say hello? I haven’t seen you in like…years!”

  My heart raced so fast that I couldn’t feel my feet as I walked toward her. She was bursting with elation in her prim office attire. It warmed my heart that she was so happy to see me. Allison met me halfway on the sidewalk and hugged me tightly when she got ahold of me. I closed my eyes. When I opened them, I couldn’t help by look in Aly’s direction. She’d moved to the trunk of the car, throwing me a gingerly smile. I wanted to kill myself. She’d gotten more gorgeous, if that was even possible. She was in workout gear, as usual, showing every bit of her natural beauty.

  “How the hell are you?” Allison slapped my shoulder, grabbing my attention.

  I chucked, focusing back on her. “I’m great.”

  “You look great.” She motioned at me with her hands. “So what’s up? Are you living back here?”

  I looked back at my house. “Just temporary.” My eyes drifted to Aly to see if she was watching us, she was. I drew in a deep breath. “How are you, what’ve you been up to?”

  “Just surviving at my sucky job.” She laughed, rolling her eyes. “Not really. It’s okay. I just wish I’d hit the lotto.”

  “Right?”

  “Just picked this kiddo up from the dealership. Her car needed some TLC.”

  My insides fluttered, staring over at Aly.

  Allison’s eyes roamed over me with a smirk on her face, and she looked back at Aly. “Alyssa, get over here.” She waved her arm and looked back at me. “Just because you two aren’t together anymore doesn’t mean you can’t be civil and grown-up about it.”

  Fuck.

  Aly reluctantly strolled over to us. “Hey.”

  I tipped my head with a playful grin. I couldn’t help myself. “Get over here.”

  I reached for her hand, and her cool fingers wrapped around mine, sending a deep charge through me. I’d noticed immediately she wasn’t wearing the ring Nathan gave her. I told myself that didn’t mean anything as I pulled her to my chest, hugging her. She’d probably taken the ring off to work out. That’s what most people did.

  “What are you doing?” She pointed to Gabe’s truck. “Is that yours?”

  I shook my head no. “It’s my driver.”

  Aly and Allison both nodded, more than likely remembering how I’d almost killed someone the last time I was behind the wheel.

  “Where you off to?” Allison gave me a strange look, almost like she knew. Maybe she did, but I wasn’t going to say anything.

  “I’m just taking care of some music stuff, you know.”

  Allison gave me a tight grin. She knew, she nodded, and Aly looked between us, confused. “What’s up?”

  “I’ve got to get going.” Allison said, changing the subject. “Gotta say hi to Mom before I leave, too, or I won’t hear the end of it.”

  Allison disappeared behind their tall courtyard gates. “Uh, okay, well.” Aly sighed, closing her mouth, and a bit of dejection overcame her. She crossed her arms, rubbing her bare shoulder. “It’s freezing. It was great seeing you.”

  “Yeah, you too.” I lingered on that last word, wanting to say more, but she turned and trotted back to the trunk of Allison’s car, taking out her own black backpack and a brown Trader Joe’s shopping bag. We’d waved our goodbyes and I shuffled back to Gabe, who was leaning against the side of his truck, watching the whole thing. I’d yet to share with him any real information about my life. He didn’t seem like the type to buy tabloid mags, seeing as he had the type of clientele who usually appeared on the covers.

  “Awkward, yeah?” He scratched his head, feeling it.

  Maybe he did know what was going on.

  “Yep.”

  4

  The line outside The Hotel Café was thick, and the excitement charged through me, erasing any anxious feelings I had about the show, or Aly, for that matter. As soon as I opened the car door, fans began to scream, waiving excitedly. I waved in return, bowing my head with hands in prayer, thanking them as I was whisked into the side door. Bobby arrived alone, still looking the same has he always had, tucking his pack of cigs in his back pocket. He wore a worn-out t-shirt and black Levi’s, and dirty-worn out Van’s tennis shoes. Marshall’s fashion sense had certainly not affected his husband in the least.

>   We did our sound check, and Bobby, Stoney and I discussed what would go down during the show. I explained to them how Marty would be filming our performance. Gabe stood off near the loading area door, waiting for his wife and a friend. He’d asked if he could invite them to meet me – “My wife loves your music…”

  What could I say? I was humbled. Bobby asked what the plans were for my music, and I explained to him and Stoney that I didn’t have anything firm, that the show was just about feeling it out, filming it, and releasing the footage – throwing the cards up to see where they fell.

  I’d removed myself from an intense political conversation Bobby began to have with Stoney, whom you wouldn’t think would know anything of politics by the way he looked, all long-haired heroin chic – though he was sober. I was dead-set on having only recovering and/or non-users or drinkers in my camp. As soon as I’d heard Congressman blah blah blah, The White House, this, that, and the other roll off Stoney’s tongue, I dashed to grab something to drink.

  Marty finally arrived, clumsily making his way through the side door with his camera bags and tripods. A camera dangled from his neck; he must have been outside snapping shots. I watched with amusement as he began setting up his cameras to record the new lease on my musical life. Everybody in attendance had a chance to be captured on camera and to appear in the video. The video would be used to announce my solo career to the masses and the music industry. This was just between a handful of people. Though the rumor mill was churning, I had everyone hanging with anticipation.

  As I stood at the bar, I watched Gabe usher two dark-haired women out from the back of the stage area. I wondered which one was his wife, when my eyes were drawn to the taller one in particular. She was one of the most gorgeous women I’d ever laid eyes on, a statuesque, raven-haired, fair-skinned beauty. I could see her ocean-blue eyes from where I stood, and her lips were full and pink, yet they didn’t look false at all. Her eyes shimmered in the light as she looked around in a bit of awe.