Delivering His Heir

by Jesse Jordan

  Her voice is quiet but intense, fiery as she looks at both of us. With a strength that I've seen before. A strength built from years of working hard and sticking together as a family no matter what, and this time it's supporting me. I swallow, and instead of answering I give her a hug, squeezing her petite frame tightly. “I love you, Maria.”

  “Te amo, Andrea. Te amo.” Maria hugs me back, wiping at her eyes. “Okay, now that we've had our little emotional moment, I'm going to go check on Mama. You two talk things over or something, figure out what you want to do this evening. I've got a babysitting job I'm doing near Moorpark, so I've gotta rush. You mind if Angel stays home? It's going to be one of those late jobs.”

  “We're good,” Joey says. “I think Andrea and I might go for a walk though. You mind if we take off for an hour or so?”

  Maria's cool with that, she'll prep dinner for everyone tonight, giving us time to be alone. Outside, Joey and I walk, holding hands for a couple of blocks before Joey has us turn down a side street, one I haven't been down before. “What's here?”

  “A block up is an elementary school, it's one of the reasons I chose this house for us when we moved. It's close enough to the school that once Mama and Maria get their paperwork taken care of, they're going to have plenty of clients who are within walking distance, and it'll be good for Angel too. The school district is a good one. I don't know how long this music thing is going to last so I'm going to make sure my family is taken care of and set up while I can,” Joey says. “I... until I met you, I thought taking care of them was enough. But now, I want more. I want you too.”

  “Joey, I don't know how to be a good girlfriend, or spouse, or mother, or any of that,” I admit, sighing. “I mean, I'm trying, but... my mother left when I was seven. And considering what I've found out about my father, I'm surprised I'm not as bitter and hateful as he is.”

  “What happened?” Joey asks quietly. I see the school up ahead, and we climb the short dirt hill that's on the corner, going up into the parking lot where I see that school's still in session, the buses are idling to take their students back home. We sit on the ground underneath a big oak tree at the edge of the parking lot, watching the school as the minutes tick by. The bell rings before I can start, and soon students are coming out of the classrooms, bikes rolling, kids running, and some lining up for the bus. It seems to go so fast, but it can't have been more than ten minutes. Finally, when it quiets again, I start talking again.

  “I don't really remember the details, I was young and my parents were both trying to keep it quiet. I do remember that Mom and Dad started taking dinners apart from each other, and sometimes I'd eat with Dad, but normally with Mom when she was around. The one argument I remember, Mom was yelling at Dad about a dress he'd bought for me. I don't even remember the dress, really. But Mom was yelling that it was totally inappropriate for me, and there was no way in hell that she was going to let me be treated that way. I didn't really understand it at the time, all I knew was that Mom and Dad were fighting and that it was somehow about me. I felt like hell, and I shrunk down in my room, trying not to listen. Not that it helped, they were both too loud this time to hold back. Dad yelled back that I was his daughter to raise as he saw fit, and that if he wanted to buy me a dress, he was going to buy me a dress. Mom then said something that I still don't quite understand to this day. She threatened him with going public about his habit, something about his tendency to order in. As a child, I had no idea what she meant, and even now, knowing some of the different meanings of ordering in, I can't quite peg it except that I think it was something illegal or at least publicly embarrassing. Darren Coates likes to drink, but he never did any sort of hard drugs that I know of, and I never saw him with anyone that could be classified as an escort. Besides, he had plenty of girlfriends after he and Mom got divorced, he didn't need to find an escort unless it was on business trips or something like that. I never saw anyone I'd classify as a call girl around the house, that was for sure.”

  “So, your Mom left?” Joey asks, and I shake my head. “What happened?”

  “Dad happened,” I reply simply. “I found out some of the details in high school by poking around in his home study, but basically he kicked her out. He had a team of legal eagles, including Chad's father, more or less bully her into accepting a no-fault divorce that kept to a prenup that she'd signed a long time back plus an extra ten million dollars. He kept full custody of me, and she was given enough money to keep her mouth shut. The agreement stated that if she contacted me, or tried to give even a single interview about the marriage, she'd forfeit all the ten million, and be left with just the prenup money, which wasn't much, barely a half million. Mom was a decade younger than Dad. I don't think she understood what she was signing at the time.”

  “Did you ever try to find your mother?” Joey asks, and I shrug, shaking my head after a moment.

  “Until I left for college, I didn't have the means. Dad showered me with stuff, but beyond a credit card that he had full control over, I didn't have any money of my own. And I was too angry, too. Until high school, I thought she'd walked out on us, not the other way around. At college, I thought about it, but a lot of things got in the way. I mean, I haven't seen her in fifteen years, Joey. What if she's moved on? What if she's got a new family, maybe even a new child? Like I said she was younger than Dad by a good margin too, she'd only be forty-three right now. That's still young, young enough to have remarried, had a new family, all sorts of things. What if she doesn't want to see me?”

  “What if she does?” Joey asks quietly. “What if she knew that your father was a bastard, and has worried about you ever since? Even if just to tell her that you're free now too, maybe you might want to tell her that much.”

  I think about it, then shake my head. “Maybe you're right, but not until this shit with my father is over and done with. I won't have him polluting any chances with Mom. Also, I've got to figure out my own feelings about some of the things Mom had to be aware of, things that I wasn't, like Dad's racism, and whatever this ordering in is. Besides, you've got a gig to get ready for, and then a wedding to do.”

  Joey chuckles, nodding. “Yeah, tomorrow night out at Twenty-Nine Palms. I still can't believe the guys agreed to that, with the wedding just a week from tomorrow.”

  “You guys are rockers. It's what you do, it's who you are. Besides,” I muse with a grin, “I've got one hot date for the Marine Corps Ball. Sounds like a lot of fun to me, and I already have something to wear. All that crap that you helped me move in from my old place? There's a dress in there for that, I'm sure of it.”

  Joey

  “Dude, looks like you're going to get dressed up normally. No stage makeup?” Ian asks as I help him load up the Gashouse van, putting the garment bag with my clothes for tonight inside, hanging it on the side wall. Gashouse maintains two vans that today are being used to transport a small performance kit to the Marine Corps Ball location.

  Rocky's taking responsibility for making sure my family is safe so this evening Mama, Maria, and Angel are going to spend the night with Cora and Bella at Rocky's house, having a 'sleepover' for the kids. I figure with three grown women and both Rocky and Cora's parents being within a few miles of the house, they're safe.

  Rocky, on the other hand, is escorting Andrea from his house to the ball in his personal car. We're going to be on the base itself, which I'm both dreading and looking forward to. It's been a very long time since I've been on a Marine Corps base. The Fragments have played on Army bases, Air Force bases, and even a Naval base... but not the Corps. I was just a little kid the last time I was there. I was so angry at the Corps, even though I know Papa chose that life. At the same time, I know he got a lot of his strength from the Corps and he taught me how to have that same strength.

  “Tonight's not a night for going over the top. This is the Corps, and well… you know,” I explain to Ian as I pick up the biggest of the amps and lift it into the van. We don't know what equipment the Ma
rines are going to have in the big ballroom that they're holding this at, after all. Better to be prepared to have to play with just these instead of banking on a sound system that may not be available.

  “Good idea,” James says. He's helping us out and will be driving the van. “And not just from a publicity standpoint.”

  James holds out a kit piece to Ian, but Ian doesn't take it from him. Instead, he's looking across the parking lot, his eyes squinting. “What the... who the fuck is that?”

  James and I follow Ian's look, and I see a guy on the other side of the parking lot, poking around some of the cars. He's looking very intently at the license plates, and every occasionally, he's taking photos of cars too. With what Chad told Andrea yesterday, my alarm bells are ringing already. “Hey! Hey, buddy!”

  I start walking across the parking lot, and the guy looks up. He recognizes me immediately and turns, taking off running. I chase after him, but he's off and around the corner before I even reach the sidewalk, and a moment later a dark blue SUV pulls out into the street, nearly sideswiping someone before pulling away. Ian comes running up behind me, huffing. “What was that?”

  “I don't know,” I mutter. “I missed the fucking license plate, I really gotta work on my whole crimefighting skills.”

  Ian laughs, catching his breath. “And I gotta work on running more. Jesus, how'd your little ass move so fast?”

  “Little? I'm five ten, man. That's still above average. Not everyone's built like a Yeti, you know.”

  Ian pats me on the back, his breath returning slowly. He's not much of a runner, but he's actually in decent shape. “Yeah well, starting tomorrow I'm going to start doing more cardio. Maybe I need to get me a bike or something because jogging kills my knees.”

  “We'll figure something out for you, man. Come on, we've still got a gig to do,” I reply, walking back to the van with Ian. James has his phone out, putting it away when he sees us come back.

  James sighs and picks up the piece of drum stand that he set down, putting it in the van. “Well, I'll give Larry a call after we get this loaded up, tell him to have the Gashouse people keep an eye out. Unfortunately, there isn't shit the police will do. You can't get a restraining order against someone just because you think they're a creepy bastard.”

  “Which is the only way you survived your twenties,” Ian jokes to James, who snorts in amusement. “How many women did you perv on?”

  “It was a very distinguished list, all fine, upstanding women.”

  “Short list though.”

  James snorts again, and even I grin at Ian's one liner. “You know Ian, you can be an asshole sometimes?”

  “I know. Come on, let's get the rest of this loaded up so we can get out to Twenty-Nine Palms.”

  It doesn't take us much longer, Ian and I have loaded up cars and vans for trips before. For the first four years the Fragments were around, we were our own roadies more often than not, and I haven't forgotten all the old habits, tying things down quickly and efficiently, making sure there's nothing that will slide around for James as he drives. It's just after ten when we finish up, and I slide the door closed, slamming it tight. “Okay, road trip time. Ian, are you driving, or am I?”

  “I'll drive, my car's better for doing drive through burritos,” Ian notes, and I agree.

  “You and Andrea....” Ian says as we pull up to a drive-through Mexican restaurant. I've learned to never discount anything this man says about wanting food, “you guys are looking more and more serious the more I see both of you.”

  “It is serious, man. She's... Ian, I think she's my one,” I tell him, waiting while he orders. We've done this enough times he knows my order by heart, and after he gets four burritos (two for me, two for him) and drinks ordered, I continue. “I'm not saying things are perfect, I'm living in my garage for fuck's sake... but still, that's the way I feel.”

  Ian nods, looking out the windshield at the taillights of the Prius in front of us, his eyes never wavering. I've seen him like this before, he's about to drop wisdom, and for a guy who's barely past twenty-six, he's got a lot of it. With a life like what his has been, even with as much as he's kept secret about his past, I can understand. “Good. She's good for you, Joey. You keep giving to others, and aren't taking anything for yourself.”

  “Andrea needs things too, Ian. In case you forgot, I'm living in the garage that you helped me turn into a living space.”

  The Prius pulls out, and Ian and I creep forward to await our food. When we stop, Ian speaks up again. “Real relationships are giving and taking on both sides. And I could see it as she and I did that little video interview for the website, she's giving to you as well. I don't know what, don't want to know what, but you two are good together.”

  Our food comes, and Ian takes the bag, setting it in the console between us where the four paper wrapped burritos stand like slightly slumping trees. I take my drink and put it in the cup holder attached to the dash, thinking. “You don't mind? I mean Ian, Rocky and Cora... now me and Andrea, you're going to find yourself single and by yourself soon, things keep going this way.”

  Ian laughs, taking a burrito out and tearing the paper, holding it in one massive hand while he steers us towards the freeway again. “Man, I'm never going to be the last single member of the band. In case you forgot, we've got James with us now too. If I can't find a girl before he does, I don't deserve to be in music.”

  “Here's the beta on the website,” Andrea says, showing all of us her laptop. “What do you think?”

  James looks it over, and I can tell already that he's impressed. “I like it. It's uploaded?”

  “I've got it on the server, but it's not live yet,” Andrea says, taking her laptop back and closing it. “I wanted to make sure you guys approve before that happens.”

  “I'm good,” Ian rumbles, wandering off to go set up his drum kit. He starts opening the cases and setting things up. He’s using an electronic kit tonight, which I know he hates, but it saves space.

  “I'll take that as a rousing endorsement,” Andrea jokes as Ian walks away, looking at Rocky and James. “Guys?”

  “It's good, really good,” Rocky says, smiling. “James?”

  “I'm going to ask Larry to launch it live right around your wedding, Rock. It's a great way to combine real life good news with the relaunch, drive more traffic. Speaking as a publicist, of course.”

  Andrea's smile grows, and she puts her laptop back in her bag, proud of her work. “Thanks, guys. Listen, my plan was to get some shots of you guys all setting up, maybe see if the Public Relations Office here will let me interview a few Marines about the fact you guys are playing the ball, and then cover the event itself.”

  “In that?” I ask, surprised. Andrea's not dressed badly, but when she said she had something for the ball, I thought she was going to dress up more than a blouse and some slacks that make her legs look amazing, but at the same time are more daytime office work and not formal ball to me. Andrea raises an eyebrow, and I blush. “Sorry, you look amazing Andrea, but...”

  “But the rest of my stuff is in Rocky's car, and I'm not showing any of you until it's time for the ball,” Andrea teases, winking. “Hope you have plenty of water for hydration, I'm planning on making you sweat Joey.”

  Andrea goes over to Ian, taking my camera out of her bag and taking a few pictures before leaving the ballroom, Rocky, James, and I still speechless. “Was that the same casual, slightly shy, and the thankful woman I helped move into your house?” Rocky asks, snorting. “Looks like you woke up a fiery side to her.”

  “All that Puerto Rican influence,” I joke, recovering. “I'm looking forward to seeing what she's got up her sleeve. James?”

  “I'll escort her around the base if she's leaving here, I'm sure the PR Office won't mind if she talks to a few people, but you know Marines better than I do,” James says. “I agree, it's nice to see her blooming I guess is the best word.”

  James leaves to follow Andrea, while Rocky
and I start getting set up. Thankfully, a couple of guitars are nothing, and the ballroom has some people who are familiar with the sound system. We've still got three hours until the ball starts when we finish our sound checks, and Ian gives me a thumb’s up. Rocky is all smiles too, and I unsling my guitar, sighing happily. “Rocky, you don't mind playing a small ball like this?”

  “You mean like playing my prom, or that impromptu bar job we did before Four Letters dropped?” Rocky asks, hopping down from the small stage that's been set up. “Man, this is what I got into music to do. Play for people who are going to enjoy what we're doing. Who cares if the crowd is twenty thousand or two thousand or two hundred? Hell, give me the right appreciation, and I'll play for a crowd of two that pays us in potato chips.”

  “Good point,” I reply, setting my guitar aside. Other than me playing a version of the Marine Hymn, the set list we're going with is nothing hard, a few standards thrown in with a lot of our popular songs. We've played these songs at least a thousand times together, and I could play all of them nearly asleep. “I just hope I don't screw up my solo.”

  “You'll play it with guts and balls, two things Marines appreciate,” Rocky reassures me. “You sounded fine in practice, you'll do fine tonight.”

  The door to the ballroom opens, and Andrea comes in with James, still smiling. “Hey guys, how's setup?”

  “Just finished,” I reply, hugging Andrea when she gets close enough and giving her a kiss. “How were the interviews?”

  “Pretty good. I got an offer for you guys. General McClintock offered to have you guys poke around a tank if you'd like. What do you say?”

  I glance at Rocky and Ian, who are both grinning. “As long as we've got the time to change and get ready for the ball.”

  “Follow me then,” Andrea says, taking me by the hand. James is also nodding happily as we leave the ballroom and are met by a group of Marines, a Captain, and two NCOs. They introduce themselves as members of the 1st Tank Battalion, and we jump in a couple of Humvees to ride over to the motor pool. It feels awesome, almost like I was a kid again on the days that Papa could let us into the actual Marine areas, and as I look around, talking with the Marines and being shows their Abrams tank, I must stop a few times to get control of my feelings. Andrea takes plenty of photos, Ian hamming it up a bit for her while I step away, collecting my thoughts.