See Her (Turn it Up Book 1)

by Natalie Parker

  “Look, it was an honest mistake, I’m sorry,” I say. I fucking hate that I’m in nothing but a towel in front of him. Since my bag is in the bunk, he’s blocking my access to my clothes. Add in the fact that he’s pissed, it makes me feel extra vulnerable.

  “Just like always,” he says, finding a t-shirt and pulling it over his head, before digging out some cologne. “Everywhere I turn, there you fucking are.” He sprays the cologne about seven times. “Tell me something,” he says, throwing it back and grabbing a comb. “How did I miss you at practices and shows over the last ten years? Really, what did you do to help get us here?”

  The truth comes out. I pull my towel a little tighter and try to obscure myself as much as I can, clinging to the wall. Water is still dripping off me, and I’m starting to shiver.

  “Look, I agree it should just be the four of you here, but it was a really hard call with Jack and I just getting married a little while ago.”

  “Yeah,” he says, grabbing his phone and wallet. “Funny how that happened so quickly after the song’s release.” My jaw drops at what I’m hearing.

  “What the hell are you trying to say?”

  “Josh, what the hell? We’re waiting for you. We’re late!” Matt comes trudging onto the bus, stopping abruptly when he sees Josh and me, seemingly having a face off. “The hell’s going on here?” I don’t even want to think about how this must look. A heated argument with my husband’s bandmate while I’m dripping wet, in nothing but a towel. Josh pushes past Matt and stomps off the bus, while Matt turns back to face me. I don’t even know what to say, so I duck back into the shower, just to avoid any interaction. I don’t care to have another half-naked conversation with another band member. When I finally hear the bus door slam shut, I slump against the door and close my eyes. After I’m dressed in black yoga pants and black tank top, I take a walk to clear my head. In the back lot of the venue with buses and trucks everywhere, it’s pretty hard to find any peace. After a while, I find myself knocking on Erin and George’s bus door. Erin swings it open, dressed pretty much the same as I am, but looking far more glamorous. Sigh.

  “Mayzie! Hey, get in here.” She steps aside, letting me on to the luxurious bus. I’ve hung out with her a couple of times before in here, and while I think our bus is nice, this is a mansion on wheels. We sit down on the couch after she’s poured us both some iced tea. “How’s it going?” she asks.

  “Actually, not that well.” She takes a sharp inhale through her teeth at that.

  “Really? What’s going on?”

  I tell her how the tour has been going, how the band hasn’t seemed to have found their groove yet, and how Jack almost missed the sound check in San Francisco. She listens, nodding her head, and occasionally looking down in her lap. And when I tell her about the three-minute altercation with Josh that shook me so bad I can still feel the reverberations, she blows out a big breath.

  “At what point in your first tour with George did it get easier?” I ask, throwing my hand up in frustration. She pauses, drawing in a deep breath before answering.

  “It didn’t. The first tour was hell, the whole way through. The rest of the guys were frustrated, George was frustrated because he felt pulled in two directions, and there was so much he and the guys had to learn. Things got seriously tense between them all, and they argued a lot. The way George and I saw it, we were married, and there for a package deal.” She lifts a shoulder, shaking her head at the memory. “But being in a band is like a marriage in its own way, which I always knew. I always accepted that. What we just didn’t realize, is that during delicate times like going on tour for the first time ever, the band relationship was the one that needed the attention for a while.” I nod as I look out the window, considering all this.

  “If I had it to do over,” she continues, “I’d have stayed home for the first tour. I would’ve let them figure out how to live together and work together on the road. It’s like being in a whole other dimension that’s centered around them, and if I had stayed out of it until they got their bearings, it would have gone a lot smoother. For the band and for our marriage.”

  “How do you know it would have?” I ask.

  “Because I stayed home for the second tour. We decided that was best, and we were right. George was able to focus on the music and the routine. It made things flow between them easier.”

  “So you spent a whole tour apart?” I ask, cringing at the idea. That sounds like it would be awful. I can’t imagine going that long without Jack. It doesn’t matter how quickly our love developed, it’s real. It’s deep, and it’s a part of me now. An immeasurable part.

  “Actually… no,” she says with an emphatic nod of her head as she prepares to delve into a whole other piece of the story. “That was the plan, but the distance made our relationship struggle. Their schedule was so jacked that sometimes I’d go two or three days without hearing from George. Obviously I’d get upset, and then we’d argue when we finally did talk. I was a wreck the whole time, not knowing what was going on with him, wondering if he was really thinking about me, missing me…” She gazes off, shaking her head. I can tell how hard that must’ve been. “For all I knew, he was enjoying life without me, and our life wouldn’t be the same when he got back. That was mistake number two: not communicating well while we were apart. Anyway, after three weeks, neither of us could seem to take it anymore. I flew to their next tour stop to catch the show and visit him. When I got there, things were flowing so well for the band. They’d established a rhythm with each other and they’d learned to roll with the schedule glitches really well. George and I were so relieved to be with each other and reconnect that I stayed on the tour. It was like night and day. He was able to compartmentalize so much better, and both relationships were getting the attention they needed. It was like finding a happy medium.”

  My eyes are beginning to sting in response to all of this. I’m happy to hear that things panned out eventually for Erin and George, but this whole story is only reaffirming what needs to happen here. I blink back the tears, and take in a shaky breath.

  “Do you think… do you think I should go back home? Should I leave the tour?” I look her in the eyes, wanting to know what she truly thinks.

  “It’s hard to say, sweetie. It was different for George and me, only because we’d already been married for three years when The Shock Wave started to take off. Our marriage already had a sturdy foundation. You and Jack still have some groundwork to lay down.”

  “Fuck,” I say, running a hand through my hair, not caring about standing on ceremony. Erin was right, we’ve become fast friends and I can let go in front of her. One of those traitorous tears escapes down my cheek. I feel like a cinder block has been dropped on my chest. “I don’t want to be away from him Erin,” I say, holding my hands up, completely at a loss.

  “Oh God, do I know that, honey. Believe me. But do you realize how much Jack loves you? I know I’ve only known you guys for two weeks, but I see things. Hell, just when he introduced you to us, I could practically see his heart bursting. It will be okay,” she says, placing a comforting hand on my knee.

  A little while later, I step off of Erin’s bus, and start slowly walking back to ours. I feel like some evil creature has reached inside me and is squeezing and twisting my insides, as I focus on putting one foot in front of the other the whole way. As our bus comes into view, I see Jack stepping off of it. Relief comes over his face when he sees me, and he helps me close the distance.

  “Hey, there you are,” he says, stopping in front of me. “Are you okay?” I’m sure he’s referring to the pain on my face and my slumping shoulders. He wraps me in a hug, and I close my eyes and breathe in his scent. After a few seconds, he pulls back enough for me to look at him.

  “How’d the radio show go?” I ask.

  “It was fine, but I don’t want to talk about that. Listen, Matt told me you and Josh got into it or something. Josh won’t tell me what happened and he’s avoiding me like t
he plague. I especially don’t like that it seemed to happen with you in nothing but a towel. What’s going on?”

  “He was just… pissed that I was in the shower when he needed it,” I say as I shake my head, downplaying the whole scenario. Jack doesn’t need to get revved up about that right now when there is something so much bigger we need to address. “Listen, baby… I’ve been thinking…” I say, putting my hand in his. My eyes are swimming in unshed tears as I look up at him. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with as much oxygen as possible, as I get ready to have one of the hardest conversations I’ll ever have.

  24

  Jack

  I’ve got my arms locked around Mayzie’s waist as I rest my forehead against hers. Closing my eyes, I try to pretend we’re back on that beach… or on top of that hill… Anywhere but curbside at the fucking Phoenix airport. Back by the bus, she told me how this chapter needed to just be me and the guys, at least for a while, while we get used to this new life. I’ve been hearing it from other people too, like George and Erin, and Matt didn’t want to say so, but he told me she had a point. I knew she had one too, I just didn’t care. I want her with me anyway. Selfish? Definitely. But I can’t help it. It feels like not long ago I was carrying her across our threshold, because it wasn’t that long ago. We should be enjoying our new married life together, but instead, she’s going to be in our home, alone, and I’m going to be stuck on a bus. It makes me feel sick to my stomach.

  “Keep your phone close to you, because you’re my first call when I wake up every day,” I say.

  “I will,” she says, looking at me with her hands resting on my arms.

  “I mean it. Before my head’s even off the pillow, I want to hear your voice, first thing.”

  “I will, I promise,” She repeats.

  “I don’t like this,” I say, letting out a frustrated sigh.

  “Me neither,” she says, closing her eyes. “But we’ll get our turn. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Uh, it kind of looks like you are,” I say, waving my arm and gesturing at the airport. She sighs and looks down.

  “You know what I mean,” she says quietly. Damnit, I’m acting like a child. It’s not like she wants to do this, I remind myself. She thinks she’s doing the right thing for me. She’s putting me and Turn it Up first, which is what you do when you love someone. The thing is, she won’t hear of me doing the same for her right now, because that would mean letting other people down and giving up on a dream that could actually be coming true. I just hope that one day I can do this for her, and I vow right then to myself that I will. I wrap my arms back around her and kiss her nose, silently apologizing. After another minute of silence, I use my thumbs under her chin to tilt her head up to look at me.

  “I love you.” I just can’t think of anything else to say that would convey how I’m feeling right now; how amazing I think she is with how selfless she’s being, even though it’s ripping me apart. How much I’m going to be missing her touch the next few weeks. How her presence keeps me sane… all of it. I try to tell her with my eyes.

  “I love you,” she says back, speaking a million words with her gaze right back at me. Her eyes are shimmering with threatening tears, and one escapes down her cheek. I swipe it away with my thumb and bring my mouth down to hers, kissing her deep, long, and hard. Everything I just tried to tell her with my eyes, I try to put into this kiss. And once again, I don’t give a shit who sees. My arms tighten around her as I feel hers go around me and hook under my shoulders. Our heads tilt and switch sides with the stroking of our lips, and it just can’t go on long enough. When it’s time to reluctantly pull away, her lips look slightly swollen. I hope that means she’ll be feeling me on her lips for hours. My heart gets a little heavier when she slings her carry-on over her shoulder and walks away with her suitcase behind her. She pauses at the entrance to look over her shoulder at me before walking through, the automatic doors closing behind her, sealing her in. And just like when I walked out of the coffee shop the day we met, I can feel the distance stretching between us deep down inside, and it feels all kinds of wrong.

  Mayzie

  The entire plane ride, I sit still as a stone, afraid that if I move, the pain will shatter me. I don’t look around either, afraid that if I do, I’ll have to acknowledge this reality. I shoot Ian a text when I land, hoping he’ll make himself scarce when I get home, and walk almost robotically to baggage claim to get my suitcase. In the back of the Uber, I rest my head back and refrain from looking out the window. It’s early evening; the sky is grey and the weather is damp, but that’s all I can tell. I don’t want to face the proof that I’m in Michigan just yet. It’s like I’ve turned my mind into a plain white barren room, containing as little stimuli as possible, as if a sensation of any kind will send me over the edge. When the car drops me off in front of our house, I notice my mother’s car in the driveway. Ian must’ve told her I was on my way. I really am not in the mood for whatever she has in store for me, but I’m too weary to react. Deciding I’ll just dismiss her with the notion I’m tired and jet lagged and just want to go to sleep, I push my way through the front door to find her sitting on one of the stools at the kitchen island. She turns and stands when she notices me, waiting patiently as I set my luggage aside and close the door behind me. Rather than looking like she’s chomping at the bit to give me a lecture, her expression actually shows nothing but a nurturing concern. I look from her to the lasagna dish cooling on the counter, to the bottle of wine sitting next to it and back to her again. My stiff posture slackens with the realization of why she’s really here, and I soften just a little as I walk into her arms. I rest my head on her shoulder as she wraps me up in a hug and my hands come up to rest on her back as I return it.

  “Hi Mommy,” I say, finally deflating.

  “Hi honey,” she says back, still holding me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

  “Stay with me tonight?” I ask, my mouth partially smushed on her shoulder. She nods.

  “My overnight bag is in your room, dinner is ready, The Bachelor is cued up, and there’s Moose Tracks in the freezer.”

  “Thank you,” is all I can say as I close my eyes and blow out a sigh.

  “Do you want to talk about it yet?” my mother asks, as we sit on the couch flipping between dumbass reality shows.

  “About what?” I ask, cramming a spoonful of ice cream into my mouth. I know what she means, I just don’t know what part she wants to know about.

  “Everything. How you’re feeling, how Jack is feeling, what your plan is?”

  “I think it’s pretty clear that I’m letting him do his thing on tour while I hold down the fort here.”

  “What made you decide to do it that way?” she asks, her tone calm and patient. Ugh. This is exactly what I didn’t want to talk about, but she’s not nagging or prodding. She’s just being attentive and listening, so I bite.

  “I knew from the start that it was going to be a crazy shift, a whole new reality centered around them as a band. I didn’t think it would do anyone any good to have me in the mix, and I was right. I felt like the monkey wrench that kept getting thrown into the cycle when they were trying to get this new machine running smoothly.”

  “But you were there because Jack wanted you to be.”

  “Well, yeah, but I wanted to be there too. We’re in love, we didn’t want to be away from each other.”

  She nods to herself, taking in what I’m saying. I go into more detail about what life on the road is like, further describing how I felt like I was in the way, and how I felt like it would be better if Jack’s attention wasn’t so divided.

  “Well it’s commendable how you could see the bigger picture like that, especially being in the middle of the whirlwind that you are.”

  “He’s been working for this for ten years. It’s best if he gives it and the guys his focus so they can see it through together. I just hated the idea that I was getting in the way of that.”

&n
bsp; “But you’re not just going to sit back while he’s gone, are you?”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, slowly bringing another bite to my mouth.

  “Well, your marriage is going to take a little extra effort now. You’re both going to have to do your best to be present, without actually being present. Communication will be more important during this time than ever,” she says plainly, her expression still gentle. I start lazily waving my spoon at her.

  “Are you… rooting for us? Are you… on board?”

  “I still don’t like it,” she says with a shrug. “But it’s done. You’re married and I want to see you both treat it like the commitment it is.”

  “We are,” I say, and I feel a small sense of relief at how confidently I was able to say that. I let out an exhaustion-riddled sigh as I go back to consulting my ice cream bowl. This seriously sucks.

  Jack

  The SUV pulls up to where all the buses are parked outside the arena. On a mission, I get out and slam the door, trudging to the bus I’ve been living on for the last two weeks. I climb on and walk a line straight to the back, hitting the jackpot as the person I’m looking for is in the back lounge area, and he’s alone. Josh is reclined back on the window seat, one leg in front of him with his other foot on the floor. I walk right up to the flat screen and turn off whatever game he’s watching, before sitting down across from him in one of the chairs. His eyes widen briefly in protest, but he reels it in when he gets a look at my face. He puts his other foot on the floor and leans forward slightly, gearing up for what he knows is coming. I don’t meet his eyes as I lean forward with my elbows on my knees and run a hand through my hair, leaving it threaded in the strands as I stare at the floor.