Snapshot (The Jamieson Collection)

by Angie Stanton

  The guitar in his hands became his only solace. While the guys waited for the sound engineers to do their thing, Adam absent-mindedly played one rift after another. He didn’t even think about playing; he’d lived and breathed it for so long, playing was like chewing food. You just did it.

  Peter tossed the cordless mic in the air and caught it with ease. “Have you talked to Marti lately?”

  “Not since the day before yesterday. We’ve texted, but that’s about it. With this crappy schedule and the time difference, we can’t seem to connect.”

  “How’s she doing at her dad’s in LA? I know she didn’t want to go.”

  “She says she’s fine, but I can tell there’s a lot she isn’t telling me. She always sounds so lost.” The fact he couldn’t do anything to help tore at him.

  “That’s gotta suck. I wish she could get to know Libby more. I think Libby could really help her through this. She was left to fend for herself, so she knows what Marti’s going through.”

  “I don’t know how that would happen when even I can’t spend time with her. This distance is killing me.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Wow, I’d say you’re whipped.”

  Adam pushed a hand through his hair. It had grown back in fast, and the ends were beginning to curl. “All I know is I can’t get her out of my mind. I’ve never met anyone like Marti, and I need to be with her. It’s like I’m dying a slow death. Suffocating or something.”

  “Geez, you do have it bad.” Peter laughed and Adam wanted to wipe the grin off his face.

  “You know, I thought if anyone would understand how I feel, it would be you.” Adam couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes.

  “Sorry, man, you’re right. It’s just everything is finally working in my life, and I’ve never been happier.” Peter waved at a group of girls showing off a We love you, Peter! sign.

  “Yeah, I can see that every minute of every day.” Adam strummed a few bars of Classical Gas. “I need to get to LA. I’m worried about her. There’s a lot she isn’t telling me.”

  “Like what?”

  Adam looked at Peter’s mic. “Is that thing on?”

  Peter checked it. “No. It’s off.” He set it at the front of the stage and turned back to Adam. “What’s on your mind?”

  Adam didn’t know how to say it. Hell, he didn’t want to say it. He glanced at Peter, who waited expectantly. Then he blurted it out. “Marti might be pregnant.”

  Peter’s eyes widened.

  Garrett appeared at Adam’s side. “Did you just say what I fucking think you did?”

  Adam swore at the heavens. The last person who needed to know his business was Garrett. “This doesn’t concern you. Walk away.”

  “Hell it doesn’t! If it leaks out that you knocked up some girl, we’re going to have a shitload of bad press.”

  Adam resisted the urge to slug him. Press was the least of his worries.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind? Getting a girl pregnant! You’re a bigger idiot that I thought!” Garrett pushed Adam.

  “Listen, asshole! You don’t know anything about this.” Adam shoved Garrett . Garrett barely caught himself. Girls in the crowd pointed and started snapping pictures.

  Peter stepped between them. “Whoa! Cool off! On stage isn’t the place to be talking about this. Garrett if you want bad press, go ahead and start a fight for the fans to photograph.”

  Garrett huffed.

  “Adam, put it out of your head until after the concert.”

  Like he could ever do that! Now that he’d voiced his worries, the problem seemed bigger than ever. Combined with how heartsick he felt for Marti, he couldn’t stand being here.

  “You know this is going to break Mom’s heart,” Garrett said.

  “You are NOT going to tell her!” Adam got back in Garrett’s face before Peter could intercede.

  “Of course not, douche bag, but it will! I knew taking that break was a bad idea.”

  “Garrett, back off!” Peter barked.

  Adam appreciated the buffer.

  “And you,” Peter added. “Stop being such an easy mark. Let’s get this show over with, and then you and I are going to talk.”

  Adam stepped to one side of the stage and Garrett sidled to the other. Adam didn’t say another word.

  Peter shot him a supportive nod.

  Adam frowned. He sighed, and they moved on with the sound check.

  The four-song mini-concert went well. Adam’s saving grace was that he could lose himself in the performance. For that half hour, he let the energy of the music and the fans carry him. Times Square wasn’t such a bad place to perform.

  As soon as they finished, said their on-air thanks to the morning show hosts, and were out of sight of the crowd, Garrett tried to corner him.

  “Not so fast.” Peter intervened. “Garrett, why don’t you stay and help Wally and Dad with the post-show wrap up. Adam and I are going for a run.”

  “I don’t run,” Adam said.

  “You do now.” Peter pushed Adam into the car parked next to the backstage area for an easy exit. Peter closed the door leaving Garrett alone with a bewildered manager, Wally, and their confused dad. “Let’s go,” he told the driver.

  Back at the hotel, Peter tossed a pair of shorts and a fresh t-shirt at Adam. They avoided the main suite and their mother.

  “Peter, I don’t need to go for a run,” Adam said.

  “Yes, you do! Now shut up and change your clothes.” Peter walked away, leaving Adam no choice.

  A few minutes later, they stepped out of the hotel. Peter wore a baseball cap, and Adam, aviator shades. Peter started a slow jog. Adam had no choice but to follow. In a few minutes, they hit the edge of Central Park. Seeing the trees and green grass caused Adam to sigh with relief. It reminded him of camp, and his memories with Marti brought him peace.

  They jogged a slow easy pace for several minutes until Peter finally spoke.

  “You want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really.” But then Adam did anyway. He talked about how he and Marti met and how much she hated him at first. He told Peter how much fun they had together and how everything about her just fit. Peter stayed quiet as Adam let it all out.

  “She’s smart and funny and stubborn. She’s so damn beautiful, and I think I love her.” There he said it. It had been on his mind for a while now.

  Peter looked at him. “Did you tell her?”

  “Hell no!”

  Peter laughed. “Why not?”

  “Beats me. How do I even know if it’s really love? I’ve never felt like this before. Maybe it’s just… I don’t know…”

  “The flu?” Peter chuckled and shook his head. “Dude, you’re the only one who can figure that one out. My guess is that you already have.”

  Adam chewed on the thought as they passed a shimmering blue lake with people paddle boating. Marti would like it here. He thought about their misadventure with the canoe and smiled.

  “But I can’t figure out how I’m ever going to see her. Why open that door when I can’t promise her anything?” Adam dragged in each breath.

  “What do you have to promise her?”

  “What every girl wants. A relationship, I guess. How are you and Libby going to handle the distance thing?”

  “First off, living in Boston will make a huge difference. My place is only ten minutes from her campus housing. I’ve been working with Wally about better scheduling. I don’t want to be zig-zagging the country all the time when we could concentrate on the west coast for a week or two and then be back out east again. We’ll add more east coast concerts, and I convinced Dad and Garrett that we should record our next album out here too.”

  Anything Peter did to be close to Libby kept Adam further from Marti. Adam’s breath labored. He thought he was in shape, but he couldn’t keep up with Peter, who hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  “Why should we hop around the country all the time? It doesn’t make sens
e,” Peter said.

  “And they’re doing it? How the heck did you make that happen?” If Peter’s hopes came true, his wouldn’t. Adam spied a water fountain. “Hold up a sec, I need a drink.”

  They stopped, and Adam took a long drag of water.

  “A lot of carefully worded conversations and logic. When Dad and Garrett saw the advantages for the band, they were onboard.”

  Adam nodded and wiped his mouth. How in the heck could he work Marti into the insanity of his life? Short of bringing her on tour, which he didn’t see happening, he just didn’t know.

  Peter took a drink and then eyed Adam. “You gonna tell me about this pregnancy scare?”

  Adam sighed. “There’s not much to tell. She might be or she might not be. I don’t know.” He avoided eye contact with Peter.

  “What happened? Did the condom break?”

  Adam started jogging again. “There was no condom.”

  Peter stopped dead in his tracks.

  “I know!” Adam bent over with his hands on his knees. “I’m an idiot, and now I’m paying the price.”

  “I think that’s yet to be determined. What are you going to do? Have you two talked about it?”

  “Not since camp, and that’s been almost two weeks. I think we’re both too afraid to bring it up.” He straightened, and they walked side by side.

  “Well, that would be an excellent place to start. Find out what’s going on and take it from there.”

  Adam shook his head in defeat. That was the problem! How did he possibly handle a problem as big as Mount Everest?

  He stared at the ground. “What if she is pregnant? I’m not ready to be a dad. Hell, I’m not even bright enough to buy condoms. How would I ever be able to take care of a kid?”

  “Let’s take this one day at a time. We’ll deal with whatever happens.”

  That made sense. Adam felt better being able to talk it through with Peter, even if they hadn’t solved anything. “Thanks for not going postal.”

  “No problem. Plus, I kind of like the ring of Uncle Peter!” His brother punched him in the shoulder, grinned and took off running, leaving Adam in the dust.

  Chapter 18

  The next morning, Marti slept in. The party had kept on until past three in the morning. She looked out the window. Broken furniture littered the terrace area, and more surprising, a motorcycle rested at the bottom of the pool. She shook her head. The Graphite Angels loved and fought like brothers. What a bunch of idiots. She couldn’t imagine Adam and his brothers acting so stupid.

  After feeding Kahlua and pulling the bedroom door shut, she wasted no time in searching for a different bedroom. She wanted one far from the pool and this part of the house where she kept running into Courtney.

  When she reached the main wing, she checked out the bedrooms there. One room had a black leather bedspread and red walls. Definitely not. Another stored furniture covered in drop cloths. A third revealed two people passed out in bed. As she backed out, she realized she knew them. Courtney and Jack! Holy crap! As silently as possible, she closed the door, but not before Courtney’s eyes popped open.

  Crap, crap, double crap!

  She did not want Courtney to come out and confront her. She rushed up the steps to the third floor. Panting against the wall at the top, she braced herself for sounds of a cursing Courtney.

  After a minute, she didn’t hear anything, so she hoped she imagined the whole thing. Courtney sleeping with Jack? How messed up was that? She didn’t know if she should blame Courtney or Jack. Probably both! Marti wasn’t about to go downstairs, so she decided to check out the South Wing of the third floor. This part of the house was furthest from the pool. Maybe that would help with the late night noise.

  The first rooms on each side were unused offices, linen closets or storage. About halfway down on the side facing the street was the theatre. She’d forgotten how she and her half-sister, Brandy, used to watch movies in there. Other than the movies, they never did much together. One end of the room held a full bar and concessions area. On the opposite end, a movie screen covered the entire wall, and rows of leather recliners, each with side tables for drinks and snacks sat in front of it. There were no windows, so the room felt like a real movie theatre.

  As she wandered back into the hall, she couldn’t shake the vile picture of Courtney and Jack together. What was wrong with them? What would her dad say if he knew? Would he even care? Hard to say. She didn’t plan on getting involved. They could live their dysfunctional lives however they wanted.

  Across the hall she passed bathrooms, and a room with a half-dozen file cabinets and storage shelves. Beyond that, she found the bonus prize! Marti opened the door to a corner suite that she never even knew existed.

  The room was large and airy, with windows overlooking the city, and she fell in love with it. Tarps covered the furniture. She pulled them away to reveal a king-size bed, dressers, desk, and sitting area.

  Not bad! Behind one door, she discovered a walk-in closet the size of her bedroom back home. Except that she didn’t have a bedroom back home anymore. She frowned and pulled the door shut. Another door revealed an enormous master bath, complete with marble floors and state-of-the-art shower. Positioned under a huge window was a huge, whirlpool tub. How weird would it be to take a bath in front of a giant window? But the house sat at the top of a steep hill and the room was on the third floor. Not much chance anyone would see her.

  She grinned at the decadence. On her way out she spotted a dial on the wall for turning on the heated floor. How many ways could she say awesome! This was perfect! And so much quieter. This should prevent any chance meetings with Courtney.

  Marti checked with Rosa to make sure that her family and the partiers had gone. Jack had left, Courtney was out shopping, and her dad was attending some tour meetings. She spent the next two hours making up the new bed and moving her stuff to her secret suite. Kahlua seemed happy with all the sunny spots to sleep in.

  After grabbing lunch, she wandered down to the music room. The grand piano beckoned. She trailed her fingers over the polished wood. Her fingers itched to play. She checked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn’t been followed. Marti sat and lifted the lid to reveal the smooth, ivory keys.

  She missed her small upright piano back home. By now, the piano would be long gone, whatever else remained in the apartment. Her shoulders drooped as she let herself reminisce about Grandma and how she would work on piecing her quilts while Marti practiced. What a perfect life they shared. Marti tried not to think about it very often, because it hurt so bad whenever she opened that door. She sighed, placed her hands on the keys and began to play.

  Hearing the rich tones soothed her in a way nothing else could. The music lifted some of the weight she carried. So many unknowns existed in her life. Where would she go to school? Would she see Adam again, or was it all wishful thinking? Would she survive living in this dysfunctional house? Or would she end up a messed up loser like Brandy and Jack? And the biggest question that nagged at her; was she pregnant?

  God her life was a mess. She attacked the keys with fervor, pounding out Mozart. And that’s how her dad found her fifteen minutes later.

  “Hot damn, girl! When did you learn to play like that?” He entered the room in his meeting attire, which consisted of flamboyant purple pants, snakeskin boots, a jacket with a bright colored scarf draped around his neck and a black fedora.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I should have closed the door.” She tried to read his mood, hoping he wouldn’t fly off the handle or criticize her.

  “Hell no, you didn’t bother me. That was some insane playing. Who taught you?”

  “You did,” Marti answered, thinking back to those early years of a bi-polar father who equally praised and cut down.

  “Not like that, I didn’t! I don’t know who your Grandmother found to teach you, but that was dope!” He slapped the piano lid for emphasis.

  He really liked it! Her heart perfo
rmed a happy dance. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, you’re the one who plays like that.” He rested his hands on the piano and looked at her.

  Marti squirmed a little, not used to such attention. He slapped the piano lid again. “I’ve got something to show you, want to see it?” He smiled with such kindness that she saw the father who used to play her to sleep with the magic of his guitar.

  “Sure.” She closed the piano and followed him outside.

  There in the circular drive she saw the cutest little Mustang convertible.

  “What do you think?” He leaned against the lemon yellow exterior.

  “It’s great! Is it for Courtney?” After the fit the woman had thrown yesterday, she could picture her dad replacing her repossessed car with this one.

  “Hell no! It’s for you!”

  “What?” She stared at him as if he’d lost all grip on reality.

  “Happy Birthday!” He grinned.

  “But… but… my birthday isn’t until…”

  “Next week. I know. The fifth. It’s an early gift.” He chuckled, pleased with her reaction. “Do you like it?”

  “I love it!” Marti touched the yellow hood. She couldn’t believe he even knew when her birthday was, let alone remembered it. “It’s beautiful. But are you sure? This is too much.”

  “Nah, it’s exactly what you should drive. Wanna take it for a spin?” He acted like an eager teenage boy.

  “I don’t have my license yet.”

  “When has that ever stopped us?” He winked, in reference to the times when she was a little girl and he had her drive. So he did remember those idiotic times, and he thought they were funny. Unbelievable.

  “I should go get my temps. They’re from Wisconsin, but they should count here.”

  “Nonsense. You’re with me. Let’s go.” He tossed Marti the keys, which she barely caught, and before she could protest, he stretched his long limbs into the car.

  “Okay!” Marti slid behind the wheel on the butter-soft, leather seats and turned the key. The engine purred smoothly. With jitters dancing in her stomach, she pulled out onto the canyon road.