Always Box Set

by Ward, Susan

  “Where’s that Parker confidence and charm?”

  “I left it at the door.”

  He laughed and starting moving through the crowd.

  He gestured for me to sit at a table near the stage and grabbed hold of a passing waitress to order a round of drinks. We were down two drinks when the band finally broke.

  “Let me handle this, Jack. We need to play this cool. Their singer doesn’t know they’re thinking of cutting him loose,” Reggie said quickly before they joined us at the table.

  “Reggie Dun, what the hell are you doing here?” a man said in a booming voice, and by their greeting I assumed it was his buddy Liam.

  “Just checking out the local competition, Liam,” Reggie replied jovially.

  “You still at the Firehouse?”

  “Until the end of July. You?”

  Liam laughed. “We’re booked solid all over the state for a year. Probably because of Jerry’s looks.” He gave his singer an affection shove—he was good-looking guy—and then jeered, “It can’t be because of his playing.”

  I laughed when everyone else laughed before I realized it probably wasn’t a smart move.

  Jerry planted an arm on the table and scowled into my face. “What the hell are you laughing at, kid?”

  I met his stare evenly, smiling as I leaned back in my chair. The air around the table crackled with tension, telling me it was better to double down than back down in a crowd like this.

  “A guy told a joke. It was funny. Even though it isn’t fucking funny for those listening to you that you don’t tune your instrument before you go on stage. But then, I figured with how you played it didn’t really matter, so I laughed.”

  His reaction to that—not good—might have gone badly if Liam hadn’t been laughing so hard that it was him Jerry shoved before he walked away with the rest of the band.

  Reggie stared at me, shaking his head. “I told you to play it cool.”

  “Fuck, I’m not going to roll over for a jerk like that.”

  Reggie got up from his chair and followed Jerry out of the bar, leaving me with the towering bass player standing above me.

  “You got my lead singer hopping mad, kid. You best watch where you shoot off your mouth around here.”

  “It’s a crime to play that way and charge people money. Your sound wouldn’t be half bad if it were in tune.”

  “And what would you know of that?” he scoffed.

  I shrugged. “I know when a guitar is in tune. That’s more than your lead knows.”

  He laughed. “You’re a cocky bastard, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been called worse.” I extended my hand. “Jackson Parker.”

  “Liam Ferguson.” He gave me a critical once-over. “Irish?” I nodded. “You just saved yourself from getting punched in the face.”

  “Irish Catholic. Will that earn me the right to show you how that song should be played?”

  “No, but it’s earned the right to buy me a drink.”

  Laughing, I gestured at the chair across from me, and I called the bartender to bring a bottle and another glass.

  “Your band has an interesting sound. Where are you guys from, Liam?”

  “Southie. Born and raised. How about you, Jackson.”

  “California. A small town. Santa Barbara.”

  “I know the town. Did a gig up there. Used to play with some guys out on Balboa Island. Fucking genius musicians, but their music—you kids with your feet in the sand have your own kind of sound and your own kind of rules about everything. Is that the kind of music you play?”

  I shrugged. “I play a bit of this, a bit of that. Whatever pays the rent.”

  Laughing, Liam nodded. “I do a bit of that myself.”

  “Right now I’m playing classical guitar during the dinner hour five nights a week at Moxy and doing catch gigs with Reggie when he needs me.”

  His gaze paused briefly on my ring. “I see you’re married.”

  “I am.”

  “Women, the weakness of every Irishman.”

  “They are that. But would we have it any other way?”

  We both laughed.

  “So, Jackson Parker from Santa Barbara, what the hell are you doing in Southie trying to buddy up to get some work out of me?”

  “I need the work. Plain and simple.”

  “Something tells me there’s nothing plain and simple about you. Why would a kid going to Harvard need work?”

  I pretended to be surprised by his observation. “How did you know I attend Harvard?”

  “The clothes. How else? You’re not the first Harvard boy to get lost in here. You rich boys like to come down here for good times. The music is better. The drinks are better. The girls are better than what you find in a Harvard bar.” He refilled his glass, shaking his head with an amused smile on his face. “You are the first, however, ever to insult my guitarist, then buy me a drink and ask for work.”

  The band was back on stage.

  He rose from the table.

  “Thanks for the drink.” He started to leave, then stopped and turned back to face me. “We rehearse Wednesday after hours in the back of the novelty store on Front Street. We’re booked every Friday and Saturday for the next year. Bring your guitar. You’re hired, kid.”

  I stared at him in surprise. “You haven’t heard me play or sing.”

  “Don’t have to. I’ve seen all I need to see. Reggie vouched for you. That’s good enough for me. And it’s past time to give Jerry the boot.”

  He walked back on stage and, in spite of what he’d said, I still wasn’t sure why he’d given me the slot. Frankly, I didn’t care.

  They did regular paid gigs two nights a week, and hopefully it would be enough money that I could quit Moxy and have more evenings home with Lena.

  Twenty-Two

  1963 started out as a good year for Lena and me.

  We were finally on our feet financially. I was working steadily as lead singer of Liam’s band, Still Light—fuck, I hated that name and never quite figured out what it was supposed to mean, even though it would be irrevocably linked with me for the rest of my life. But I didn’t care. The music we cranked out was better. Our sets were a blend of blues rock, pop rock, and even surf music when I felt like throwing it in.

  And yep, I was homesick, so I played surf music and thought about the beaches while I was on stage. The girls went mad when I let loose on a little Dick Dale or the Beach Boys, me with my sun-gold looks. The guys in the band hated that shit, but by then it was just about the money for all of us and they were definitely making a lot more of it since I’d started to play with them.

  Girls meant bookings, more money, and maybe a label signing us. It was the reason Liam hired me, having noticed in that dingy bar in Southie how they’d stared at me doing nothing but sitting at a table. He considered it just a secondary bonus that I could really sing, play, and contribute in the song-writing collaboration. He hadn’t had any hope that I’d be anything more than some good-looking guy fronting for them to pull in the girls.

  It pissed me off the first time he laughingly confessed that to me, and oh yeah, he knew everything about me before we’d ever met, the good and the bad, thanks to Reggie.

  He wanted Good Time Jack on stage with them, and I figured if it could support my family, what the hell, why should it matter to me? I told myself it was OK because it was just an act I put on for the sake of the band. I flirted with girls, occasionally blurred the lines without ever being unfaithful to Lena, and spent a lot of time doing a lot of things I shouldn’t have and never told my wife about any of it.

  It felt like I was living a double life—Good Time Jack on the road and married Jack at home—and Jesus Christ, it was a lot to ask from a guy of twenty-one. It was hard performing often six nights a week, sometimes days on the road, cozying up to the girls then walking away, even madly in love with Lena.

  Girls had always thrown thems
elves at me—Georgie had been right, they were a problem for me—and it was even worse than before because, let’s face it, being the lead singer in a popular band was like an invitation for them to chase after you.

  They were all around me everywhere I performed, too tempting and more than willing to do pretty much anything I wanted. More than once Liam stopped me—on those nights when I’d gotten a little too drunk and definitely too loose—before walking out the door with some girl.

  He was a good friend that way to both Lena and me. He kept me from fucking up my life and never breathed a word to Lena. In fact, I was pretty sure he was in love with her and would have kicked my ass if I ever stepped out.

  I was starting to believe that both Lena and I were in a good place as I packed up my gear in the rehearsal space we rented in the back of the novelty store.

  “You want to go to Mulligan’s for a beer before you head home, Jack?” Liam asked.

  I mulled it over and then grimaced. “Nope, can’t do it. We’re having company. My friend Patty is coming in tonight to stay with Lena this weekend while I’m on the road. Lena hasn’t been feeling well lately and if I’m not there when Patty arrives it will be lights out for Jack.”

  He laughed. “Lena definitely keeps you in line.”

  I shrugged, smiling. I was used to everyone giving me shit about my wife, but Liam didn’t mean anything by it.

  As I walked past him, I patted his arm. “You wish you were on my line.”

  He grinned, but he didn’t say it—I wish I was on more than your line, Jackie boy—but I could see that’s what he was thinking. Oh yeah, he definitely had a thing for Lena.

  “I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow at four, Jack. Don’t keep me waiting. It’s a long drive to the city.”

  “I’ll be packed up and ready.”

  I loaded my guitar into the car and went straight home. I trotted up the front steps, thinking I was on time, but of course I was late like always. And shit, it was not the night to be late.

  I entered the house, and inside my head I said, oh fuck, before I plastered a smile on my face. Patty wasn’t alone on the sofa. She’d brought her roommate along for the ride.

  Jesus Christ, what was that girl’s name?

  “Jackie,” Patty squealed, penetrating my panic.

  She jumped up and ran across the room to give me a hug, and I took her in my arms. It wasn’t lost on me that Lena wasn’t smiling. Fuck, how long had they been here?

  “Hey, Patty, it’s great to see you. Thanks for coming down. I thought you were getting in around five.”

  She smiled. “We took an early train. Jessica and I got here around two. I probably should have called, but I figured what’s the difference?”

  She laughed.

  Jessica. Yep, that was her name.

  I forced myself to laugh as well, but there was one hell of a difference; my wife had just spent three hours alone with a girl I used to fuck and I could tell by Lena’s expression and how she sat in the chair that she somehow knew.

  “I can’t believe how big Sammy is getting,” Patty exclaimed. “He’s just the most remarkable baby ever.”

  “We think so,” I said, smiling at my wife and getting nothing in return. I crossed the room anyway to give her a kiss and settled on the arm of the chair.

  “You remember Jessica, don’t you, Jack?” Patty asked, then crinkled her nose. “I probably should have asked about bringing a friend along as well.”

  Ya think?

  “Your roommate, right?” It was lame. I wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Lena, and I knew it. For the first time I looked at Jessica. “It’s nice to see you again, Jess.”

  “Nice to see you. It’s been a long time,” she replied, and the way she said that was unmistakable.

  “The Freedom Ride, right?” Patty piped up, her brow crinkling, and I wasn’t sure if she was fucking with me or if she really didn’t know the details of that trip.

  Jessica did one of those secret kind of twists of her lips. “Yes, that was it. Those two weeks. Last time I saw you, Jack.”

  Oh fuck, I’m a dead man.

  It was time to change the subject. “What’s that you have spread out on the coffee table?”

  “Oh, my scrapbook. I was just filling Lena in on all the exciting things we used to do together before you were married. I can’t believe you didn’t tell your wife about us doing the Freedom Rides together. Jeez, you’re as bad as George. You don’t tell your wife anything.”

  “Highlight of my sophomore year, Jack,” Jessica said, and I was pretty sure that was a nail in my coffin.

  “There was a riot and we got arrested,” Patty chimed in, dropping to her knees before the table to start thumbing through pages in her book. She laughed. “And of course, Jack being a senator’s son, he made front page news coast to coast just being there. Boy, his parents were pissed about that.”

  “The things the press wrote about him were so ridiculous,” Jessica said. “What did they call you, Jack? ‘A subversive fanning the flames and mocking the government.’ Something like that. We all knew Jack wasn’t really into what we were trying to do and was there for only one reason. He spent the entire night singing so us girls could hear him in our cell, and all Patty kept saying over and over again was, ‘Listen to Jackie trying to cruise the girls even from a cell.’”

  They both broke up into loud laughter.

  “What was it you sang?” Patty asked.

  “Jailhouse Rock,” among other things, inappropriately silly and intentionally mocking our circumstance.

  “I don’t remember,” I replied. I tried to change the subject again. “Do I have time to shower before dinner, Lena? I thought we’d go out tonight, Patty being here and all.”

  She looked at me directly for the first time since I’d entered the room. “I made dinner, but the three of you can go out if you want to.”

  Shit. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Lena.”

  “Someone has to stay behind and take care of Sammy.”

  It was a reasonable point, but it wasn’t reasonable the way she said it, or that she quickly took Sammy from his blanket and disappeared into our bedroom after slamming the door.

  I glared at Patty. “Thanks a lot, Patty.”

  Her brows went up. “What? What did I do?”

  I could tell then she didn’t know, that Jessica hadn’t told her about us, but it didn’t matter. Lena knew and Lena was upset.

  I stood up. “I’ll be right back.”

  I followed Lena into the bedroom. Sammy was in his crib and she was standing across the room staring out the window. Her posture was all I needed to warn me this wasn’t going to go well.

  “You can go out tonight if you want to,” she said before I could get out word one. “I know you don’t get to visit with Patty as often as you used to.”

  “I don’t want to go out with Patty. Not without you, Lena.”

  “Then why did you arrange for Patty to bring Jessica here?”

  That set me back on my heels. “I didn’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me, Jack. I know you do things. All kinds of things when you’re out on the road with the band.”

  Christ, what did she know?

  “I don’t do anything,” I insisted, coming up behind her and slipping my arms around her waist. “I’m married to you. I love you.”

  “You had a thing with that girl, Jessica, didn’t you?”

  Damn.

  “Whatever I did was before I married you, and I haven’t done anything since. Not with anyone but you.”

  “Would you rather be single with girls like that than me? You can tell me the truth, Jack.”

  “Fuck, how could you ask me that?” I tried to turn her around in my arms, but she resisted. “I’m the luckiest man on the planet. And don’t think for a second I don’t know it.”

  “But your life would have been easier if you hadn’t married me.”r />
  I turned her then, relieved that she let me, and took her cheeks in my hands. “Nope, it wouldn’t have been easier and it wouldn’t be as interesting.”

  She made a soggy laugh and lay her head against my chest as I folded her in my arms. “I’m sorry Patty brought Jessica here. But you’ve got to believe me, I didn’t ask her to.”

  “You’re a handsome man. Everywhere we go, I see it. How the girls want you.”

  I kissed her brow. “You’re a beautiful woman. Everywhere we go, the men want you.”

  She shook her head, her hair teasing my chin. “No, they don’t, Jack. And pretty soon even you aren’t going to want me.”

  “Not possible. I’d be crazy not to want you.”

  She looked up. “Jack, I’m pregnant.”

  Fuck.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” she said sadly.

  Before I could think better of it, I said, “How could this happen? We’re always so careful.” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it and Lena was in tears before I could fix it.

  “It’s not my fault. You’re not always careful, Jack. Not on the nights when you’re not on the road and you come home late. It makes me wonder what you’re doing before you get here. And makes me wonder what you do on the away nights.”

  Oh fuck.

  It was the truth. Every word she spoke was loaded and painful.

  My face covered with a burn. I stepped back from her, shoving my hands deep into my pockets. “I have never been unfaithful to you, Lena.”

  Her dark eyes clouded over before she looked away. “I know, but that doesn’t change that you want to. And it doesn’t change that I’m pregnant.”

  “Everything will be all right, Lena.”

  Those sad brown eyes burned into me. “Will it?”

  “Of course. I love you. I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.”

  After that, no matter how much I tried to reassure her and get her to have dinner with us, Lena wouldn’t. She insisted I take the girls out without her, and I stupidly went.

  I felt guilty the entire night because it felt bad after having a new worry dropped on me to sit with Patty, laughing and shooting the shit like in the old days. Even worse, when we reached home after two in the morning, I knew I’d had a good time with them.