“Annie!” he screams and throws his arms up touchdown-style. My aunt, the rock star, catches his eye. She’s beaming. Tonight probably won’t be the start of her cowbell career, but it might be the reboot of a ’90s love that lay dormant, waiting for the reaper to bring it back to life.
After Auntsie steps off the stage and reverts back to being a music fan and librarian, Malcolm and the guys continue their set, playing four of the new songs in a row before mixing in some songs from the Gatsby years. I’m so busy I haven’t had a chance to do more than hug Auntsie after her song before traipsing back to the bar to wash glasses, retrieve food orders, and restock the bar fridge with cold bottles of beer and fruity vodka and tequila drinks from the storage room.
Malcolm’s oozing confidence and swagger tonight, his role as a front man fully restored since the first time I saw him play here. I’m happy for him, but at the same time, I can’t wait for his set to be over so we can both get on with our separate lives.
I’m carrying a tray loaded with appetizers from the back to the bar when Malcolm and I lock eyes and I freeze. He’s alone onstage with his acoustic guitar, while the band takes a break. He addresses the crowd but stares directly at me.
“We only have two more songs for you tonight. Both are from my new album, which is available for purchase tonight at the merch table.” Malcolm pauses to point to Kiki, who waves to the crowd from behind the table that’s laden with CDs, vinyl, stickers, and all things Malcolm Trent.
“You can also download these songs at all the usual places. Now that my shameless plug is over, I’m going to play the title track, ‘Cat’s Eye.’ I once joked that this song started off being about drugs and ended up being about a girl. That was a lie. It’s always been about a girl.”
I forget that I’m standing in the middle of the crowd holding a tray until Auntsie swoops in to rescue the food, followed by Evie, Mom, and Kiki, who swoop in to rescue me. To say I’ve got all the feels right now would be an understatement. I’m embarrassed, touched, humbled, and grateful. Even if Malcolm and I have nothing else, we have this.
I’m surrounded by love and it’s perfect.
When the song ends, half the room turns to look at me, but my eyes stay fixed on Malcolm. With a quick nod toward the drum kit, he beckons me toward the stage. I shake my head.
“Hey, everyone, guess what? As a special treat tonight, Quinn Gallo is going to sit in on drums for this last song.”
I’m still shaking my head as Malcolm nods his. We’re warming up for a standoff when Mom whispers in my ear.
“Can you do it for them, baby?”
I turn to see Lynn’s parents waving from the bar. Holy shit! When did they get here? Mrs. Sullivan raises a glass and smiles, and whoosh, just like that, all the fight leaves me. Mom helps me take off my apron, then gently nudges me toward the stage. There’s a smattering of applause as Auntsie hands me my sticks. My sister follows me and squeezes my hand before she moves to stand behind Travis’s vocal mic. I get myself situated behind the drums and signal to Malcolm when I’m ready. He’s standing behind his keyboard, which is angled to face me. This time, I want to see him as we play this song.
“This is ‘That Last Night,’” he says, then begins to play those hauntingly beautiful opening chords.
We’re minus a cellist and standup bass, but Travis does the song justice with his electric bass and my sister’s backing vocals are plenty for this small room. Chills ripple up and down my arms. I breathe deep, filling my lungs and my heart with the energy of the room. I look into as many faces as possible as I await my part. I want to remember this.
Malcolm starts the third verse, and Liam steps toward me to exchange a knowing look that means it’s about time we join this party. I tap the hi-hat and Liam strums his guitar, and I try not to think about how this is the last time we’ll play together before they all leave and I go back to being Quinn Gallo, not Q, or Cat’s Eye, or even Quinny.
I’m ready for whatever happens when the song ends. My heart’s light and my body’s in control as I let go of my anger, my fears, and my regrets and allow myself to experience the pure joy of making music with my friends.
Before I know it, the song’s over. We turn to face one another, all smiles as the last notes fade from the keyboard and we hear the applause. Twice this song sent me running, but tonight I stay put, accepting that this is the last time I will be connected to these people in this particular way.
“Thank you, everyone. Good night,” Malcolm says, and the room erupts with a swirl of activity. I’m hugging Evie, Kate, Ashley, Liam, Kiki, Mom, the Sullivans. It’s like a clown car emptying, with everyone I’ve ever known coming at me. I see Mom talking to Malcolm, and I want to go over, but I owe it to the Sullivans to stay here and talk to them.
“I can’t believe you made the trip to see me,” I say.
“We wouldn’t have missed it, hon,” Mrs. Sullivan says.
Mr. Sullivan smiles nervously, like he’s afraid to say anything more. We stick to small talk after that, each of us sensing that it’s the only safe ground. Once they leave, and the crowd finally settles down, I scan the room for Malcolm. He’s stepping outside with the woman from the record label. He gives me a helpless shrug when he sees me, but I’m not jealous anymore. It’s business, though I still wish we could have shared a moment before it was all over.
After I say my goodbyes and so longs to my family and friends, Caleb bellows from behind the bar.
“Quinn! Liam! If you two divas are done, I could use some help with cleanup.” I glance toward the stage. Malcolm’s gear is all packed up and stacked on the side, so I’m assuming he hasn’t left for good yet.
“Hey, baby girl. That was outstanding,” Arnie says.
I clear the empty plates from the appetizers that he and Spoon Man shared and wipe down the bar in front of him.
“Thanks, Arnie.”
“I’m glad I got to hear you play.” He stands to leave, and I notice there are tears in his bloodshot eyes.
“Don’t worry, Arnie. Liam’s leaving on tour, but I’ll still be here.”
“Good. This place would be just another shit hole without you.”
He gives me a small salute, and then he’s gone, along with everyone else it seems. Liam’s nowhere to be found.
I get to work washing glasses and upending chairs onto tables so the cleaning crew can sweep and mop the floors.
“Why don’t you take off, Quinn. I got this,” Caleb says when he comes in from taking out the trash. “I think Malcolm’s waiting outside for you.”
“You sure you don’t need me to stay?”
“Positive. I’m glad you’re sticking around this fall. Arnie’s right—this place would be a shit hole without you.”
I smile. “Thanks, Caleb.”
“See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
I don’t usually work on Sundays. Not much happens at Keegan’s then.
“Your aunt invited me over for a barbecue.”
I give him a conspiratorial smile. “Bring dog biscuits and Pinot Grigio if you want to score extra points.”
“Thanks, Quinn.”
I take off my apron, and turn to leave when Caleb calls me back.
“Quinn?”
“Yeah?”
“Me and your aunt. I’m not sure how much she told you, but I’m the one who screwed up. Musicians, we’re not… Let’s say I spent my twenties trying to make my teens last as long as possible. I didn’t deserve all she was willing to give.”
I’m not sure if this is a confession or a warning.
“I don’t think she sees it that way.” Well, except for the arrested development part. She’d totally agree with that.
“That’s because she’s always been a better person than me. Anyway, I want you to know, if I get a second chance, it’s because of you.”
“I feel the same way about you and this place,” I say. “I probably should have said this sooner, but thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The exchange leaves us both a bit flustered and we talk over each other, me saying I’m going to take off as he simultaneously shoos me out the door with his dishrag. I’m relieved we didn’t have to hug it out.
I push open the door to the parking lot and sense Malcolm before I see him. He’s leaning against the building and snaps to attention when he sees me.
“Cat’s Eye. I’ve been waiting for you.”
I flick a thumb over my shoulder. “I was helping Caleb with the—”
He cuts me off with a gentle kiss on the lips. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night.”
I step back. “I thought that was against the new rules.”
“About that, Cat’s Eye. I fucked up. What else is new, right?” He moves closer, reaching for my hand and playing with my fingertips. “I miss you. I miss playing music with you, the way you bite your lower lip when you play drums. I miss having you fall asleep next to me. I haven’t slept more than three straight hours in two weeks. Nothing’s been the same since that night at the studio. And I know it’s my fault, so I only have myself to blame. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. We were both wrong. That’s what happens when friends fight.”
He places his hands on my hips.
“I don’t want us to be friends, Cat’s Eye. That’s what I’m trying to say. I don’t want us to be apart. I know I have no right to ask you this, but come with me on this tour, please. I want you there, I need you there.”
Why couldn’t he have said this sooner? I’m annoyed and yet his words, his touch, the way all my senses come alive when we’re standing this close, make me want to leave with him right now. But I can’t be sure he won’t change his mind tomorrow.
“You say these things, Malcolm, and then you take them back. You hinted that you loved me, but when I asked you who I was to you—”
“I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and that says a lot coming from an ex-junkie. I should have said everything. You are everything to me, Cat’s Eye, and I don’t want to let you go. I spent the past hour talking to some record label person who made me the types of promises I’ve been dying to hear, and all I could think about was getting back to you.”
“Malcolm, I don’t know. I finally had a life plan. A way to make my life work here, without you. You can’t do this now. This isn’t fair.”
“I know, I know. You’re right. Look, don’t decide now. Promise me you’ll think about it. Seriously think about it.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead and each cheek before brushing his lips against mine. His eyes ask permission. I answer him by kissing him back, tentatively at first but in a way that dispels the notion that he and I could ever be only friends.
“I should go. My family’s waiting up for me,” I say when we separate.
Malcolm is still kissing my neck, sending shivers across my skin.
“Promise me you’ll think about what I said?”
“Promise,” I say. But I’m pretty sure my mind’s already made up.
FORTY-THREE
It’s the day before Labor Day, that last hurrah before the ceremonial end of summer. Newscasters love to remind us summer isn’t really over until September twentysomething, but why kid ourselves? We know it’s done. Mom and Evie will be leaving tomorrow morning. School starts on Tuesday, the same day Malcolm and the band leave. The big question is, will I be going with them? I hardly slept last night thinking about how I was going to bring this up with my family.
“I think I might be going on tour,” I blurt out to Mom, Evie, and Auntsie, as we swirl around the kitchen performing a food prep ballet.
It’s like someone hit the Pause button on our dance.
Mom suspends her potato salad stirring, Evie quits dicing the watermelon, and Auntsie halts construction on her veggie tower.
“What? When?” Mom asks.
“In less than forty-eight hours.”
Auntsie looks like her head might pop off her shoulders like a bottle rocket. “That’s crazy talk. I thought this was settled. What about classes and the job lead from Ricky you told us about? We talked about this.”
When I got home last night, after we replayed the success of Auntsie’s cowbell debut and the gig as the whole, I told them about Ricky calling and offering to hook me up with an actual paying job at Atlantic Trax, where we recorded. I can’t believe he went ahead and talked to the owner for me. Ricky is definitely one of the good guys.
I look down at my bare feet, where Reggie has just licked my big toe. I scoop him up.
“It’s only for three months.”
“Only? You can’t expect the job to be there when you get back,” Auntsie says.
“No. But college will be. And I’m sure Caleb would take me back. He understands. Sometimes people are more important than jobs.”
“Oh really? Well, maybe Malcolm should stay then,” Auntsie says.
Bringing Caleb into the conversation stirred old feelings in my aunt. I wish I’d left him out of it.
“I would never ask him to cancel his tour for me. You know why this is so important to him. He was sitting right there when he told you.” I point to the chair where Malcolm sat when he came for Sunday dinner. It seems so long ago.
“So, what’re you going to do?” I can’t tell if Evie’s curious or upset.
“I don’t know.”
Surprisingly, Mom reacts not like her usual Type A self, but like someone who has taken back-to-back yoga and meditation classes.
“Well, I don’t want to rush you, hon. But you need to decide. I’m not sure how one begins to pack for a road trip like that. I was going to try to beat the holiday traffic tomorrow, but Evie and I can stick around a little later and help you.”
Auntsie looks at Mom, incredulous. “You’re okay with this, Gem?”
My, my, my, how times have changed.
Mom looks at me when she answers. “It’s Quinn’s decision. I trust her.”
Auntsie stiffens. “Well, if you’re leaving, you need to break it to Reggie. He’s gotten quite attached to you.”
I kiss the top of Reggie’s head and he licks my cheek. “I’ve gotten attached to him too. I love him. And I’m grateful for the unconditional love he has for me. I hope he’ll understand that I’ll be back.”
I meet Auntsie’s eyes. Emotion flickers there for a second, and then she re-hits the play button on party prep.
“Okay then, chop, chop. Let’s getting moving. We’ve got people coming over in an hour. It’s time to light the grill.”
“Light it up!” Evie cries. It’s possible she’ll be imitating Ricky for the rest of her life. I hope that night in the studio isn’t the most exciting thing that ever happens to her.
People start arriving a little while later. In addition to Caleb, Auntsie has invited our entire block, her coworkers, some people from the shelter, and Kiki and Liam to her annual barbecue. Malcolm’s spending the day with his parents, but we agreed to spend tomorrow together. If I don’t go on tour, it might be the last time we see each other for a while and he wants to do something special.
The party at Auntsie’s house goes on well into the night. The backyard is strung up with paper lanterns, and stereo speakers have been propped in open windows so we can hear Caleb’s music mix outside. He assumed the role of DJ shortly after arriving, dressed as an adult for the second time in two days. The only time he leaves Auntsie’s side is to put on another record. And Auntsie? She’s been walking around with a wineglass in one hand and a grill spatula in the other, Reggie strapped across her torso in one of those baby carriers made for dogs. A pooch pouch, I think she called it. She’s soaking in Caleb’s attention, and he lo
oks at her so adoringly it’s like she’s wearing a ball gown and tiara instead of a dog strapped to her chest. Mom sits at the picnic table with Auntsie’s coworkers, while Evie, Ashley, and Kate chat up the neighbors’ nephews who are here for the holiday.
The chilly easterly breeze carries the promise of cooler autumn nights, prompting Caleb to get the fire pit going while Auntsie breaks out the ingredients for s’mores.
“Hey, so the ever-elusive Andrew remains a mystery. I never did get to meet him last night. I’m beginning to think this friend of yours is imaginary,” I tell Liam as I wink at Kiki.
The three of us are reclining in Adirondack chairs around the fire. Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” drifts toward us through the open windows.
Liam scowls. “He never made it there. Something about a camp counselor party.”
“Ah, well. Some other time.” My mind turns toward the tour. “So, are you all packed?”
“If by packed, you mean thrown two pairs of jeans and five T-shirts into a duffel bag, then yes. I’m ready to go.” Liam clicks his tongue and gives me a thumbs-up.
“That’s all you’re bringing? I notice you never mentioned underwear.” I imagine life on the road with four boys will be challenging and somewhat smelly. “You better throw deodorant in too or I’m definitely out.”
Kiki laughs and nudges Liam’s leg with her flip-flopped foot.
“Hear that? You better smell good for Quinny. She’s the only girl you’re allowed to smell good for.”
“What’s the verdict, Q? You do realize it’s shit-or-get-off-the-pot time.”
“Liam!” Kiki says.
“What? You know what I’m saying. It’s go time.”
Kiki jumps to my defense. “Don’t rush her. Maybe she’d rather stay here with me. You know, September is local summer at the Jersey shore, Quinny. We can have a blast.”
My aunt has told me all about local summer—warm September waters, empty beaches. It’s what everyone around here lives for.
“Keeks, there will be other local summers. Q may never get another chance to tour with a band. It’s a no-brainer.”
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