by A. M. Jones
I only laugh. Everything we’ve been eating lately tastes like “Thanksgiving.” After taking my own bite, I say, “It does taste like Thanksgiving.” It’s some kind of chicken and cornbread dressing. Only in the South.
“Right?”
Not realizing how hungry I was until now, I scarf the whole helping down with my guitar in my lap. I glance at my mom’s plate—untouched—and then at dad’s favorite spot. A spot he’ll never occupy again.
Taylor brushes my wrist with her fingertips. “It’s okay to grieve, Eli.”
I nod, looking at my hands on the strings and pluck the opening notes for Ink Slapped to get back in the working mood.
Taylor’s laptop is open from being immersed in her story, but she watches me while she finishes her food. I’ve been furiously working out kinks in songs I wrote just for my acoustic. My meeting with Dash Top is nearing and I need to have several selections ready and perfected. For the billionth time, I think about telling Taylor, but I don’t want to give her any false hope in case my plan falls through. I have an inkling she’s still holding back because of Madison. Besides, I have enough hope for the both of us.
My mom appears in the doorway. “You two don’t have to babysit me. Don’t you have work at the shop?”
“Mick and Milo are good with taking over for now.” I’m content with being here. I’m almost happy to have Taylor’s constant attention. Although, she refuses any rolls in the sack. No matter how much I try. She says it’s out of respect for my mother and father. And yeah, she’s offered to come to my loft but understands why I need to be here right now. I can’t help but adore her more for that. And anyway, there’s something to be said about the anticipation. Every move she makes seems like an attempt to seduce me, but I know it’s only me. Like now, how she pulls her fork from her lips. Geez.
Mom trudges to the coffee pot as if her body weighs three hundred pounds. Her hands seem skeletal under the huge sleeves of her robe. Taylor and I share a worried look. “Well, surely you have something else to do?”
“You’re not getting rid of me.” Not while she’s still on that medication and shambling around like a zombie. “I’m okay, really.”
She nods, sitting next to Taylor and pushing the plate full of Thanksgiving away. “Maybe I need something to focus on.” She scans the kitchen, finding it clean. “What I am going to do?” Her face crumbles and her upper body drops to her arms on the table, making it shake. Scalding hot coffee splashes from her mug. Her shoulders tremble with sobs.
Taylor seems stricken as she rubs her back. I rush to help her to her room, so she won’t fall from the chair and hurt herself. After I tuck her in, she seems to fall asleep right away.
When I return to the kitchen, Taylor leans against the counter wringing her hands. I sigh, wrapping my arms around her waist. “Thank you.”
She pulls back to meet my eyes. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Yes, you have.”
Daniel Ezell sits on a plush couch, waiting. He stands when he sees me and shakes my hand. “They’ll call us in any minute.”
I nod and place my instrument cases on the floor. One holds my Martin while the other larger case holds my setup for a one-man band. If I’m going unplugged, I’m going all the way. When I sit, my knee won’t stop bouncing. I don’t know how long I stare into space before Daniel’s laugh breaks me out of it. “It’ll go great. I’ve done preliminary work. Just show them what you’ve got.”
I nod.
“This was a smart move, by the way. Took balls.”
“Yeah, well. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” Not to mention all the inspiration I’ve been getting lately. If I write songs any faster, I’m going to start selling them.
“Mr. Gregor? Mr. Ezell?” A short man with an iPad waves us in.
We exchange glances and put on our game faces. This meeting with Dash Top Records will determine when and how I move forward from here.
We enter a huge conference room but there are only a few people seated. They wait patiently as I setup my foot drum.
I grip the neck of my Martin as if my life depends on it. It kind of does.
“You’ll be okay?” she asks, zipping her laptop bag.
“No.” I bump myself from the greasy doorframe. Though I’m only kidding, I like her spending time here while she works in my office. I’ve been back at work for two days. My mom seems to be doing a bit better. She’s been showering every day and went to the cinemas with one of her friends. She took orders from our website to the post office. She even asked me about Madison. So, I explained the situation and told her what I was doing about it. Even so, I’m still staying at her house for the time being.
Taylor laughs. “I have faith you will. Besides, you need to go to practice.” I haven’t practiced with the guys since my dad passed away. We have a few shows in the near future courtesy of our new managers. These shows will have a videographer.
Plus, I need to give them the rundown of what’s going on with Dash Top. I sang my best song and left them a disk of rough tracks. If they like any of them, I’m hoping to negotiate an opt-out for the Highway contract. They can keep the song and Madison, I’ll be free of her, and Tainted District will still have a big name to lean on.
They like what I have to offer, but I sensed their reluctance about renegotiating Highway. Daniel agrees with my assessment. I’m not sure how the guys will react to me possibly making a solo single. I like to hope they’ll be for anything that gets me away from Madison.
“I guess I better.”
“Don’t sound so enthused.” Worry pinches around her eyes. “You should show the guys your new songs. It’ll help.”
I grin, remembering her watching my process these past weeks. “You’re exhausted.” She’s been around people for weeks. She no longer gets anxious around me, but I notice she still does with others.
She shakes her head. “You’re scary sometimes, but you’re right, I am.”
“I’m scary?” She seems at a loss for what to say. It’s not that I have to walk on eggshells, per se, but I don’t want to push her. She’s coming around and it does me well to show patience. “It’s okay. I know. Don’t worry about it.”
She shoots me a grateful smile. “We’re good?”
“Better than.”
She wraps her arms around my waist. It’s hard not to do the same, but grime covers my arms and hands. She inhales against my neck, giving my brain naughty ideas. Easy to do. I could easily take another hiatus with Taylor, and I will as soon as everything pans out. She deserves no less. “I love the way you smell when you’re working,” she mumbles.
Pulling back, I look at her. “Like grease and B.O.?”
“Like petroleum and Fast Orange.” She smiles. “It’s real.”
“Speaking of Fast Orange, I’m gonna clean up.” I wink, holding my hands away and giving her a kiss. She pulls on my shirt to deepen it. I let her do whatever she wants because the truth is, if she wasn’t around, I’d have already drowned in a sea of my grief and depression. Right when we get heated, she pulls away and gazes at me with a parted mouth and lowered lids. Her chest rises and lowers on a huge sigh.
“Want to lose your phone in the cushions of the couch?” I grin.
She bursts into laughter, probably remembering the last time she lost her phone in my couch. “I better go. Brenna and Camden are leaving soon.”
“They’ll be back.” The twins will move here as soon as they get things at school straightened out.
After I walk her out, I scrub my hands and smile at the orange-scented suds running down my forearms.
Upon hearing the clicking of high heels, my smile falls. Madison’s been aloof these past few weeks, and it gives me a bad feeling—especially with her visiting out of nowhere.
I poke my head from the bathroom.
She cocks her head, twirling her hair around her finger. “Trying to get your own deal now.”
“Oh. Hi, Eli. How are you? I’m fine. Doi
ng better. Getting along great even, some might say.” I send her a glare as she scoffs. “Thanks for coming to my dad’s funeral. Enormous of you.”
“Don’t act like I was missed. Your tramp was there.” Her eyes narrow. “I could have sworn she’d be out of your system by now.”
I freeze as her words burrow beneath my skin. “You were wrong.”
She glares. “So, are you going to tell me about Dash Top? They contacted my lawyer about a possible new contract for Highway if the other is terminated.”
“Really?” There’s no mistaking the happiness in my voice. Holy shit! They’re going for it. I focus on Madison and wince at her angry glare.
She pulls out her own phone, punching a few buttons and putting it to her ear. After a few seconds, she says, “Let’s run it.” With that, she spins and walks out.
Heat races through my system as I stalk behind her, grabbing her arm before she gets in her car. The look on her face is one of fear and she flinches, throwing her hands in front of her face.
I let go, stunned. “What the fuck is going on, Madison?” I ask through clenched teeth. My heart beats so fast it thumps in my ears.
“You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure.” She gets in her car, slamming the door. All I see is her sneer before she drives off.
It takes a few long moments before I’m able to move my stomach sinks. This can’t be good.
Band practice goes to shit and not because I told the guys about Dash Top. Madison. I’ve called her without an answer. All I can do is wait for the shoe to drop.
“You listening?” Crockett snaps his fingers in my face.
“Yes. No. That’s not all. Madison came by the shop earlier. She called someone and said, ‘Let’s run it.’”
Jack sits beside me on the couch, smelling like tobacco. “What the fuck does that mean?”
I shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I don’t think it’s good. She knows the Highway contract might be dissolved because they scheduled a meeting with her.”
“Holy, shit!” Crockett jigs his hips with his bass in his hands. “That’s great news. And as far as Madison is concerned she’s crazy and we’ll deal with whatever when we have to cross that bridge.”
“I can’t believe you’re going solo on us.”
I shake my head. “No. I’m not. I’d never do that. Tainted District’s my life.”
The next day while I’m sorting part orders, Daniel Ezell calls. I pick up on the first ring.
“They don’t want your song.” I close my eyes as my stomach drops. So, Madison was just assuming. Suddenly, I’m glad I hadn’t spilled the beans to Taylor. “They want a whole album.”
“Wait. What?”
He laughs. “Great news, my friend.”
“Hang on just a second.” I place my phone on my desk and dance wildly with pumping fists and sidekicks. I probably look like I’m fighting off a spider web, but I don’t care. I huff a breath and run my hands through my hair before picking my phone back up. “That is great news. Terms?”
“Well, the negotiation process starts. What I need to know about is Unplugged Moments.”
Oh, that’s right. If we’re redoing contract terms, I can see how that’d include Madison’s hit song I have partial rights to. “What about it?”
“The whole reason you regained partial rights to begin with. To protect Ms. Dabney. They might want these rights back which would leave her wide open for a lawsuit.”
“They’ve already signed off on her use of the lyrics.”
He sighs. “All right. I’ll mark it as non-negotiable.”
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” Brenna asks as she neatly packs her things in the open suitcase. Camden strolls into my bedroom with a bundle of clothing in his arms.
“You got any room, Bren?” Without waiting for an answer, he stuffs his load in her case.
She scoffs, using a hand to flip the wad back out. “You’d have room if you folded everything.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Waste of time. They’re dirty.”
Brenna’s eyes widen. I swear steam would shoot from her orifices if it were possible.
I smile. “I’m going to miss you guys.”
After Brenna bags Camden’s dirty clothing and puts it in her case, she zips it. “We’ll be back soon. I’ve already looked at a few habitable places.”
“Let me know if you need me to do anything while you’re out west.”
“You’ll be busy.” She sends me a secretive smile. I laugh.
Later that night, after I’ve sent the twins back to the west coast, I make a phone call.
Crockett laughs when he answers. “They haven’t been gone for five hours and you’re already calling me.”
“I think I’m ready.”
He pauses as my words sink in. “Really? So soon? I’m impressed.”
“You should be. Now, let’s get on with it before I change my mind.”
“Lucky for you, I’m prepared and have already found a place to work around Eli.”
“Good.”
My fingers fly across the keyboard. The End. The sense of accomplishment after I type those words always sends me soaring high. This book has turned out better than I expected it ever would. Now to let it sit for a few weeks. It needs to ferment in my mind so when revision time comes, I can add all the details to my bare bones. Good timing because now I can work on my super-secret project.
My chair squeaks when I sit back and take stock of my empty apartment. Without the twins here, it feels quiet and messy. So messy. They never had to clean after themselves. All the time I’ve spent away and with drafting a novel, nothing got done. Dishes are piled in the sink. Old food containers are stuffed into the fridge. There are coffee rings everywhere with dust stuck to them. My bathroom is the worst. Dirty laundry spills from the hamper. The wet towels on the floor, I’m afraid to contemplate too closely.
I stretch before gathering my empty cans of Redbull that helped me through my last chapter.
The clock reads twelve nineteen. I check my phone and no sign of Eli or Gina. I guess all three of us have a lot to catch up on but I did sort of expect to hear from him by now. Biting my lip, I contemplate making first contact. Are we even to that point yet? Ah, fuck. Now I’m going to drive myself crazy.
Maybe it’s a good thing he’s stayed MIA. I keep myself busy by cleaning the apartment. Hopefully, those Redbulls aren’t out of my system. While I’m scrubbing the bathroom sink, I get a good look at myself. When was the last time I showered? As soon as the twins left, I hopped on my laptop. So… yesterday morning at Gina’s. Gross. My hair gleams in its messy bun and I have two-day-old mascara under my eyes. Coffee stains my shirt. I look like a rabid raccoon. I hate to say this, but I’ve been worse.
This is the most pathetic thing about drafting a novel. Everything goes to shit, including hygiene. I’m surprised I did so well with helping Eli and Gina these past few weeks.
I fall face first onto my bed. I’ll get to it later.
I groan and turn over, pulling my pillow over my head at the loud banging that comes from the living room.
Shit! I sit up so fast, my head whooshes. My phone rings. Eli. “Hey,” I answer.
There’s a long pause before he laughs through the phone. “You’re sleeping.”
“Was. I was sleeping.”
“Sorry. I’m out in the hall.”
“What’re you doing here?” I blurt.
“Um, bringing you lunch? Am I crossing a boundary?”
“What? No. That’s not what I meant. What time is it?” The sun blares through the window as I open the door for him. He has on a grease-stained t-shirt.
“Almost noon.” He pockets his phone when he sees me. “I figured you’d be working on your book since you weren’t answering your phone.”
I pause and grin. “I finished it last night.”
His face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah, and then—” I halt when I get a good look at my apartm
ent. Myself! Even my teeth feel grimy. My face heats and I’m sure I’m a million shades of red. “I need to shower and—stuff.” We both look around. My sink is still full of dishes. Water bottles, takeout containers, and energy drink cans litter every available surface. He bursts into laughter.
“It’s not funny. The twins are slobs.”
“Right.” He keeps laughing and I laugh with him. When we calm down, he grabs my wrist. “Come on. You’re probably hungry.”
“Give me a minute.”
He kisses my cheek and scrunches his face. I slap his shoulder. “You’re no better, grease monkey.”
I smile at his laughter as I leave the room.
After I take a quick shower and brush my teeth, I eat a healthy portion smoked pork from a hole-in-the-wall barbeque joint. “Thank you,” I tell him even though he watches me like I’m a monkey at a zoo.
“I need to tell you something.” He scratches at his stubble. “And since you finished your new book, I think we should go out and celebrate.”
“So, you don’t have to tell me what you need to?”
“No, so we’ll be celebrating what I need to tell you. Two birds, one stone kind of deal.”
“And you decided not to tell me now.”
He grins. “Yeah. Just now. But, I do need to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Why have you been rejecting the agents?”
I freeze. “How do you know about that?”
“Because I made music for a song in exchange.”
I close my eyes. “Kate Conner told me you were asking about agents.”
“I did, so answer my question.”
“Because I had a feeling Madison was behind for some unknown reason. Plus, I should get my own agent, Eli.”
He stares at me for a long moment and swallows.
“What?”
“I don’t know. She’s been—she’s—” He sighs. “I don’t know. Just trying to figure out her own motivations is driving me nuts.”