“I’ve got an idea,” Jack says, and then rattles off his sister’s address to the driver. “Let’s hope none of them have found out where she lives,” he says as he gets his phone out to call her.
Sarah and Mike are saints. They agree to go stay at our house for a couple of days under the pretense that they are taking over house sitting from Ian. Hopefully this squashes any hope the group waiting on our lawn has of getting a glimpse of Jack in his habitat, and they’ll move on. Plus, we’ll have our privacy in their house. As fun as it will be, playing house in their palace, I’m itching to get back into our home together for a while. And poor them, going from their giant house to our tiny one bedroom. Two hours later, we’re snuggled on the comfy couch in a two-story living room with an equally tall Christmas tree all lit up before us. We’ve foregone beer for tonight, and gotten into Mike and Sarah’s wine stash.
Having all this space and privacy to drink wine in our sweats is heavenly, and it’s the first time we’ve been able to hear ourselves think in weeks.
“I hate to say this sweetheart, but I think we have to move,” Jack says, rubbing one of my legs that’s draped across him.
“I know,” I say reluctantly with a sigh, with one half of my face smushed against the cushions. “I’m going to miss that little house.”
“What’s your favorite thing about it?” he asks, turning to me.
“Besides it being the first place we lived together? The breakfast nook, definitely. It’s such a cozy place to sit and talk, and it gives the place so much character.”
“Then we’ll make sure our next house has one. Dad and I will build one in if we have to.” I smile at him, telling him he’s the best with my eyes. “Think you want a place like this one day?” he continues. I consider this for a moment. I love this house, but I like simplicity and practicality too.
“I don’t know,” I say. “Maybe one day. Not yet though.” I shrug. “What about you?”
“I’d like something big and spacious, with high ceilings and stairs. Not necessarily this style. And like you said, not yet. But as long as the band is doing well, we can’t stay on that crowded street. We need something with privacy, no neighbors.” I sigh and nod in agreement.
“We’ll have to look for something after the tour.”
“Yep, after the tour. But for now,” he says, patting my leg and standing as I move them off of him, “as long as we’re staying here, let’s live it up.” He grabs the wine bottle along with his glass, holding them both in one hand and reaching for mine with the other.
“What do you have in mind?” I ask.
“Taking this wine to the jacuzzi tub.”
“Hmm,” I say, following him up the stairs. “I guess I can learn to deal with staying here.”
Jack
The next morning, I call Sarah to check in. She tells me that the mob of people has taken the hint and are gone, but there are still “neighbors” that are frequently “walking their dogs” and “going for a run.” Damnit. As nice as staying in their house is, I know Mayzie wants a sense of being normal for the two weeks we have off. Not to mention, we miss the hell out of our dogs. I tell Sarah that she and Mike don’t need to stay there anymore; we’ll just have to stay here with them. I do ask her to bring Penny and Trooper, so that we at least have them. This house is big enough that we will still have at least some privacy. It’s not ideal, but we’ll have to make do.
“Is the coast clear yet?” Mayzie asks, walking into the huge kitchen and pouring a cup of coffee.
“No good,” I say. She twists her mouth and nods, obviously disappointed as she rummages through the cabinets. “There’s a drum of sugar in the pantry, baby.”
“You’re hysteeerical,” she sings, moving to the fridge and opting for the flavored creamer.
“I know. So Mike and Sarah are coming back here, and they’re bringing the dogs.”
“Yaaaayy,” she cheers, with an actual smile on her face. She leans on the counter with her cup and takes a sip. “Do you think I could get to the dance studio at some point? I’m having withdrawals,” she says, staring into space with a true look of longing.
“Well so am I, so we’ll get you over there.”
“You don’t dance.”
“But I miss watching you dance. And who knows? Maybe I could start,” I say as she walks around the counter and I pull her on my lap. “We could reenact some Dirty Dancing scenes.” She busts out a laugh.
“You’ve watched that movie?”
“Two sisters,” I remind her. I’m serious though, these last two months have been all about me and the guys. I want to give her these two weeks. And then a realization hits me. Holy shit. I married a dancer and never gave her a first dance. I am remedying that shit, soon.
Later, Sarah and Mike return home with not only the dogs, but they drove my truck over too so that we’d have a vehicle. The next few days, we enjoy their company but for the most part, stick to the guest room, or snuggle in the smaller living room with the dogs. Alone time is just not something we get much of on the road, and while we don’t want to be rude, we want to soak up as much as we can before the madness resumes. This means a lot of time in the bedroom of course, but also spending time on the couch and zoning out to movies, napping, or just sitting quietly while she writes and I work on songs.
And even though we’re not at our house, oddly, it feels like home. When I bring it up, Mayzie says she’s feeling the same way. At first, she was bummed about not being at our house, but she feels over it now, and that just being together is enough. It’s like we’re home to each other.
And I’ve noticed something different about Mayzie when she’s writing. Right now, as we’re having a quiet afternoon in the living room, she doesn’t have the frustrated look of concentration she normally does when she’s copywriting. She looks relaxed, yet her fingers are typing on her laptop with rapid fire.
“What are you working on?” I ask, setting down my guitar. She looks up from her screen, sitting curled up on the end of the couch. She’s in a fuzzy grey sweater with black leggings underneath. We’ve never been together in the winter. She looks beautiful like this.
“Uh, I’ve been keeping a journal during this whole thing, with the band finally getting discovered, this new life, being on the road… Now I’m throwing it together in sort of an article. I’m hoping it gets some good attention, and maybe it can be a blog, or even… a book? Maybe… I don’t know.” She shrugs, giving me a causal smile.
“Really?” I ask, and she nods. “Baby, that’s incredible.” I get excited at this possibility. Something needs to happen for her. So far in our marriage, the focus has been completely on me and the band’s success. I want there to be more give and take, supporting each other, not just her supporting me. I get up and walk over to her as she pulls the computer off her lap and sets it on the coffee table. She stretches out, welcoming me to lay down on top of her. “Seriously, I think that’s amazing,” I say, giving her a kiss.
“Thank you,” she says quietly. She’s so happy and at ease right now, and I hate to say it but I can’t wait for this tour to be completely over so we can have more of this. “I’ll do anything I can to help with that.”
“What do you think you’re going to call it?”
“I was thinking, ‘Rock Life as a Rock Wife’,” She answers. “Rock Life has kind of a double meaning, you know?”
“That’s perfect,” I say, shaking my head in amazement. Seriously, I’m amazed. She amazes me every day.
Mayzie
Later that day, Jack drives us up to Dance It Out. It’s closing time, and I’m using a studio after hours to avoid getting any attention. Annie makes sure she’s the only one there to let us in. After a few minutes of hugging and catching up, she hands me the keys to lock up with and disappears. We walk in to one of the studios, I sync my phone to the sound system, and take off my bulky jacket. I find a playlist that is a mix of upbeat and slow. I want to do it all, and I just want an hour.
/> “I’m just going to make a couple of calls,” Jack tells me, and goes to slip out the door. I sit down and start doing stretches. It’s been a while, so I take my time, making sure to work out each muscle. A slow song is playing as I’m finishing up, and Jack walks back in, a sneaky smile on his face.
“Good phone call?” I ask, standing.
“I talked to George and he pulled a few strings. The dogs are coming with us when we go back on tour.”
“Stop it!” I say, crossing my arms in disbelief.
“We have two bunks on our bus that aren’t being used, and if it comes down to it, he and Erin have plenty of room on theirs, and they’re good with it. George spoke to the tour managers, so it’s a go.”
“Oh my gosh, that is so amazing!” I clasp my hands together. I can’t believe he did this. “Oh, that is going to make that last month so much easier.”
“I know. I can’t wait either.”
After our excitement settles, Jack leans back against the wall to watch as I start sashaying around, and wrap myself into a few slow spins. I’m just starting to fall into the zone, going through a series of chaînés turns when the song switches over to a slow ballad, ‘All That You Are’. I look to Jack to see my phone in his hand, eyelids half lowered as he gives me a heart-melting, closed mouth smile. The sound of the opening chords and the look in his eyes touches me down so deep, I feel tears stinging behind my eyes and I press my lips together as I smile, trying to keep them away. I can tell what he’s doing, but I ask anyway.
“What are you up to?” I say, playing coy and trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.
“We never had a first dance,” he answers.
“Baby, it’s okay. It’s not like we had a reception to do that at.”
“No excuse,” he says, walking over to the light switch on the wall, sliding it to make the studio go dim, setting a mood. He walks back over to me and I smile as I watch him, feeling warm and fuzzy all over. I love that this is the part of him that I get. His fans see him go nuts on stage, but I get to see how romantic he can be. “I’m sorry baby, but I never learned anything other than the junior high sway and shuffle,” he says, wrapping his arms around me.
“That’s all I need,” I say, putting my arms around his neck and resting my head on his chest, letting him sway us back and forth, getting lost in the beautiful moment of our first dance. We keep holding each other and moving as the song turns into another slow one, and Jack gets experimental with some turns and dips. When a more upbeat song comes on, we start to let loose and play. He chases me while I dance around him, and I show him a couple of lifts and turns. Christmas is around the corner, and I couldn’t ask for a better gift than tonight, than this time.
33
Mayzie
The two weeks off really helped us reset and gear up for another month of life on the road. We spent a lot of time relaxing, catching up on sleep, and seeing our families. We weren’t disturbed once by any road managers or producers.
The next month was hard, like the rest of the tour, but we did it. Having the dogs along for the ride made it feel just a little bit more like home. I even bonded individually with the rest of the guys, including Josh, making me feel more like I belonged. Whenever there was down time, we’d watch movies or play cards, shooting the shit. I managed to finish my article and have submitted it to several news sites. Now I just cross my fingers and wait, hoping that maybe it will open the door to a serious writing career.
I did get a call from the producers of America’s Next Top Dancer. It’s a reality dance competition show where aspiring dancers compete for the title by learning and performing dance pieces. The ’See Her’ video alone has garnered so much attention, but when I occasionally turned up on celebrity news sites alongside the band, the two were easily put together. The producers asked me how I felt about making guest appearances on the show as one of the choreographers. I think Jack was more excited than I was, and pretty much took the phone away from me and told them that I’d do it. It starts shooting in the spring, so it looks like we’ll be spending a lot of time in L.A.
And now… now I’m trying not to go blind, or grab at the little purple spots floating in front of my face. I blink rapidly against the flashing lights going off all around me like thousands of twinkling, bursting stars. Photographers are shouting out all the guys’ names, and some just shout out the name of the band, trying to get their photo. All the guys are dressed up in fashionable suits, but I have to say, I’m most impressed with Jack’s, of course. He’s in a silver metallic looking jacket and slacks over a black button down, and black silk tie and vest. And while I’m a blue jeans and t-shirt kind of girl, I have to say that I’m enjoying this night of glamor. I’m so proud of the guys and all they’ve worked for leading up to this night. We’re at the AMAs, and they are up for two awards: Best Single and Best New Band. They’re also one of the performing acts of the night.
I’m at Jack’s side, doing my best to represent him and the guys. I’m in a black, floor-length gown that bells out past my waist and just barely skims along the red carpet, giving the impression that I could be floating instead of walking. The top of the gown crisscrosses over my chest, and has long black lace sleeves. I have a short diamond necklace and diamond drop earrings to complement the look, and my hair is swept to one side in sleek waves that cover one eye a little bit. I feel like this, paired with my eye make-up and bright red lipstick, gives me a classic Hollywood look.
I keep my back straight and my smile unwavering as Jack holds tightly to my hand, keeping his arm straight so that I’m close at his side as we make our way down the long, carpeted entrance, along with all the other musical acts being honored tonight. As instructed, we smile and act like we don’t mind a bit that we have to stop every ten feet or so for photo ops. The camera flashes go especially crazy anytime Jack leans in close to whisper something to me.
Later, after the guys give a riveting performance of ‘Breakthrough’, complete with strobe lights, smoke and pounding beats, they’re seated next to me again, Jack’s fingers laced through mine, as he leans in towards me, eyes closed as we both hope with everything we have to hear Turn it Up’s name for Best New Band. Unfortunately, Best Single went to the newest teeny bopper boy band. That’s the way of the industry sometimes, and the guys shake it off, but I’m really praying for this one.
“And the award for Best New Band goes to…” I hold my breath as the current hot country star announces, “Turn it Up!”
Jack pumps his other fist and gets to his feet, pulling me with him. He kisses me and leans around me to whisper in my ear.
“You helped us get here,” he says before leaning away. I give him an admonishing look but he gives it right back to me before he turns to follow the guys up to the stage. George and Erin, who are seated on the other side of me, huddle close as the guys climb the stairs to accept the award. They all take turns thanking their loved ones, while Matt cradles the award. Jack goes last, saying thank you to his dad and sisters, and finishing with me.
“And last, my wife Mayzie.” His eyes find me in the crowd. “You’re the sun that makes everything in my life shine, and I love you more than any song lyrics could ever say.”
“I love you,” I mouth, before they are ushered off the stage accompanied by roaring applause.
Epilogue
Mayzie
3 years later
“Jack?” I call from our living room. “Can you come hang these now? I’m afraid if I try it, I’ll hit a stud or something,” I say impatiently, standing by the empty wall that lines our stairs. I have framed posters of all three of Turn it Up’s album covers, including ‘Tempest Highway’ that was just released. It’s a seriously great picture. The guys are all standing side by side with their backs to the camera. Jack, Josh and Matt are all holding their guitars with the necks angled down, while Chris has his drumsticks in his back pocket. Their hair and their tattered looking clothes are blowing in the wind, and they’re standing on
a rundown road, facing a mass of black storm clouds in the distance. The road is cracked, its yellow line faded, and powerlines are down, looking like they’re sizzling on the ground. The rest of the land is barren plains of dirt. They look like they are ready to embark on a dangerous journey.
“Hang what?” I hear Jack call back from the garage. I hear a wrench or some other kind of tool clang and clatter as he tosses it back in its box before he appears in the doorway that leads from the kitchen to the garage. He lets out a huff when he leans in the frame and looks at the poster frames at my feet.
“Aw, baby, not those. Come on…” he’s a bit bashful of putting the band’s success on display.
“I like them. Aren’t you proud? I am,” I say, picking one up to admire it.
“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I want them hanging in our living room. When we have people over, it’s going to look like I’m bragging or full or myself or something. Now, this...” he says, grabbing my book off of one of the shelves he put up for us. “Let’s blow this up and hang it.”
The words Rock Life as a Rock Wife by Mayzie Krasinski glare back at me, suspended over a picture of me in a button-down shirt, cut-off jean shorts, and motorcycle boots. I’m on my stomach with my legs up behind me, crossed at the ankle, while I lean my chin on my hand. In my other hand, I’m holding a cord connected to an amp that has a wedding veil draped over it.
“No, that’s fine where it is on the shelf,” I say, setting down the poster, and crossing my arms. He tilts his head at me, eyebrows raised. “Fine, you made your point,” I say. “But I still like these. Can they go in the guestroom? Or the hallway?” I say, throwing both my hands out, asking him to throw me a bone.
See Her (Turn it Up Book 1) Page 29