by Unknown
Neal paused inside another large, over-decorated room to stare at his father. Surrounded by books, bookcases lined with more books, a large, wooden desk half-hidden by more reading materials, father and son stared in mutual silence.
Exhaling slowly, Neal set his jaw in a show of defiance. “It’s come to my attention that we need to clear the air.”
James raised a curious brow; a thin, dark brow not unlike his son’s. They both had the same light green eyes, clear, smooth skin, and facial structure with defined yet slightly flat cheekbones, thin, dark lips, and slightly narrow eyes that spoke volumes about their inner thoughts and demons.
Setting aside the newspaper, James sat forward in the throne and gestured to a nearby wet bar, asking his son what he wanted to drink. Neal shook his head, pursing his lips and trying hard not to appear as agitated with his father’s casual attitude as it made him feel. Even after close to thirty years, Neal still believed the man should be on his knees and in tears, begging for forgiveness and living a thousand times worse type of hell as Neal was forced to live.
On second thought, Neal turned and started for the bar, pouring himself a whisky and downing the first glass before pouring another and turning aside with a narrowed eye glare. He took another sip before facing his father again.
James gestured to an antique chaise situated close to the throne and suggested that Neal get comfortable.
“What is it we need to get out into the open, then?”
Neal held his breath, eyeing his father blankly before he started slowly toward the wooden chaise with its chartreuse velvet upholstery and ornate, curved headrest. It was difficult to look at James for very long when Neal clearly saw himself in the man and didn’t like it at all.
“I’m getting too old for this,” Neal snarled, resenting the blush he could feel creeping up his throat and appearing on his cheeks. “I can’t help resenting you still, though. Every time I think about you, it pisses me off to the point of wanting to break something.”
A glance at James showed Neal that the man stared at him with those piercing eyes of his, and with his long, slender fingers slid together, elbows resting on the arms of the throne. In response, Neal lifted his squared jaw just a bit higher and proceeded with what it was he thought he should say.
“I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t expect to be treated like one, but . . .” he paused to sip more of the whisky. “Entering this house makes me feel like that angry child again. I used to think about burning this place to the ground, and there were even nights when I thought about sneaking into your room to toss all your clothing out a window or shake itching powder in all your shoes.”
A quiet snort of laughter from James forced Neal to bow his head. The last thing he needed was to see his father’s similar smile. Nothing he had to say was funny to him, and knowing he never got anywhere by talking to his father in the past made Neal realize just how stupid it had been to think his mother’s suggestion was a good idea.
“May I?” James asked, still narrowly eyeing Neal, his fingers still slid between each other in front of him, and sneering in a way that made Neal’s blood boil.
Neal nodded stiffly and focused his gaze on one of five tall, thin stained glass windows along an outer wall of the study.
“If you had truly wanted to do any of those things, Neal, then you would have done at least one of them at some point. The fact that you never followed through tells me a few things about your character.”
“I didn’t come here to listen to more of your sanctimonious –.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Neal pursed his lips and rubbed a thigh, not feeling remorse or guilt but more of a desire to stay silent. His father would always be right. He would never admit to possessing any faults, and if Neal said that the sky was blue, then James would beg to differ.
“I doubt you’re a coward Neal, but I agree its time you let go of the anger and resentment you’ve held inside your heart all these years. What your mother and I did was never a concern of yours despite your inability to see it any other way. And whether you believe me or not, I adore that woman as much as you apparently do. It was her decision to keep you from me and not the other way around. Had I known, and had I found out the kind of life she led with you, I’d have stepped in a lot sooner.”
“Leave my mother out of this.” Neal snarled, shooting James a look that was meant to kill but that ended up having the opposite effect. James smirked and Neal held back the strong urge to punch him.
“That’s the spirit,” James said. “I still admire you for the love you have for your mother. And yet, if it’s the truth you seek, look no further than her. I asked her to stay with me, Neal. If I’m not mistaken, I think I even begged.”
Startled, Neal stared at his father for the first time since he arrived at the man’s home. They weren’t the words he had ever expected to hear James utter, and the unfamiliar feeling of satisfaction now washing over him was supposed to make him happy, but it didn’t. Too little too late, perhaps?
“Surprised, I see.” James grumbled before snorting and turning aside to down the last of his cognac.
The butler appeared like a wraith to refill both their glasses, and then he left the room with similar cat-like silence.
“It was the first time I ever felt that way about a woman,” James admitted. “There was just something about her that kept me . . . spellbound. I never stopped thinking about her. I think about her even now. She’ll pop into my head at the most unexpected moments to make me smile.” He eyed his son narrowly, and through gritted teeth he said, “I love her.”
Neal shot from the chaise and turned aside his upper body, faking a much-needed stretch of weary muscles. The discomfort he felt about the turn of events in their suddenly one-sided conversation became more than Neal could bear.
“Sit down,” James growled, garnering a startled gaze from Neal. James didn’t back down though, and after a few, awkward seconds, Neal returned to the chaise but refused to look his father in the eye.
“This was your idea remember, and now that you’re here, you’ll listen to what I have to say. I’m a lot older than you, and despite the convoluted way a child tends to think about his parents, I’ve been where you are and know a thing or two. Like being able to read your thoughts and understand the reasons why you say and do the things you do.”
“Thirty years isn’t a whole hell of a lot of difference,” Neal grumbled, sitting back and resting a bent leg across his knee. Subconsciously, he had also slid his fingers together on his lap.
“That’s right,” James hissed. “Let it all out now, Neal. Get it off your chest and then keep moving forward. I’m relieved to know you’ve finally decided to stop looking back. And with that said, I’d like you to think about the life you led. Was it really so bad? Yes, your mother made some bad choices and ended up in some awful situations, but the two of you remained together through it all. The bond between you is stronger as a result. Not many sons today look after their mother’s as well or with as much concern as you do. That’s something to be proud of and not harbor any resentment for having learned. I’m sure that behavior has carried over to the women you’ve met over the years, too. They must certainly appreciate your thoughtfulness.”
While James went on to explain about his own relationship with his mother, how he grew up in luxury while not learning much of anything; resulting in his decision to become a rock & roll hero just to spite his mother, Neal returned his attention to the stained glass. The mere mention of women brought him back to Liv and how he felt about her; what he hoped to accomplish with her, and how desperate he was to win her love.
He felt ridiculous, too. The things he had started out wanting to say to his father never materialized. Instead, he ended up looking ridiculous after hearing everything James had to say. And, it seemed painfully obvious now that he would never escape the man’s ominous shadow. Not in his career or with women. James’s story about Neal’s mother sounded eerily similar
to what he currently faced with Liv, making Neal angry as well as depressed.
“You said I’m strong,” Neal interrupted, forcing James to stare at his son with a blank expression he’d seen Neal offer earlier in their impromptu meeting of minds. “I must get it from Mum, because if you were strong, you’d have figured out a way to get her to see your side of the situation and I wouldn’t have had to grow up feeling so obligated to make everything right and better in my own life.”
“What,” James grumbled, “like, force her to live with me? Demand that she love me back and make me as happy as I hoped to make her? How is that proving strength, Neal?”
Neal sucked in his breath and rubbed his knees, hating that the conclusions he had come to about his relationship with Liv were being thrown back at him by a man he still couldn’t help but despise. “Then we’re stubborn,” he said and eyed the floor. “Mum and I are too filled with pride to let anyone change or manipulate our own thoughts and ideals.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” James offered. “Your mother, maybe, but not you. I’ve already said you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re a responsible man who knows what he wants and doesn’t let much stand in the way under any circumstances. I’m that way as well, but when it came to your mother . . . she ended up being my one and only defeat.”
Neal left the chaise and that time his father didn’t stop him. While he paced inside the musty room, James stared at the floor and his own, distant thoughts about love lost and time wasted.
“The career I chose out of spite ended up biting me on the ass instead of my mother’s,” James quietly admitted.
Neal didn’t turn in his direction and narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the stag that leapt over a green hedge in one of the stained glass windows.
“Ah, it’s like I said,” James continued. “Your mother went through plenty to get where she is now. It took a lot, but she’s content and happy. It wouldn’t have been that way had I been the one to get my way I think, so it worked out in her favor, Neal. Which brings me right back to the first thing I said, that our relationship and you are two separate issues. You have no business sticking your nose into our private affairs.”
“You’re right,” Neal said and turned to glare at his beleaguered father. “I was simply born into the mess you two created, that’s all.”
“Yes,” James groaned. “And that life you tend to despise so much is and always will be your own, too. Go off and find someone to love, Neal. Have a child of your own and wait to see if I’m not right. God willing, I’ll live long enough to welcome the day when you look at me with that sheepish expression otherwise known as ‘gee, father, you were right after all’.”
Neal opened his mouth to speak; to argue even when he couldn’t think of anything smart-ass to say in response. The butler entered the room, distracting them both.
“Begging your pardon, sir,” the butler said, “but, it’s the BBC studio again, calling about your guest appearance on that show.”
James groaned, and when Neal looked at his father, he saw the man close his eyes and rub them with a thumb and index finger. Then James gazed ahead in silent thought before he asked the butler to take a message.
“Guest appearance?” Neal asked. “Your group’s twenty-year reunion album isn’t set to be released for another month.”
“I know,” James said and leaned back in the throne, resting both arms on the sides and almost offering his son a smile. “I’ve done a few interviews, but this is different. They want me to test drive a silly compact car.” James exhaled quiet laughter. “I can’t even remember the last time I drove a car. I was probably nineteen; when the band became famous and suddenly we were being chauffeured everywhere. Of course, I grew up with a chauffeur, so –.”
“Top Gear?” Neal whined. “Are they asking you to test drive the reasonably priced car on their show?”
James smiled tightly as he nodded, sighing aloud. “Nothing like asking a hometown hero to make a complete ass of himself.”
“Ask them if they’d be interested in having your son do it for you.”
James shot Neal a strange look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he grumbled. “Then our secret will be revealed. It was you who insisted our relationship remain a secret for life remember.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Neal mumbled, holding up a hand and trying not to smile as brightly as he felt like doing just then. He loved the show and had always wanted to test drive the car just to see how fast he could get it to go. “My life as I know it is shot to hell now anyway. May as well go out with a bang. Call them and ask. If they say no, at least I tried.”
“And, if they agree?”
Neal stared at James before a smile slowly crept up and gave away the excitement he felt. “Then I end up being the son of a famous guitar legend, I guess.”
“You’re sure,” James prodded. “Don’t make me do something spur of the moment and then come back at me later to argue about how wrong things turned out as a result.”
“Will you just pick up the damn phone?”
James stared at Neal for a few minutes before he finally rose from the throne and went to a phone docked atop the cluttered desk. As he waited for someone to pick up, he stared at Neal. “You’re absolutely certain this is what you want to do?”
Neal nodded, still smiling as the excitement continued to build. “Getting behind the wheel of that cheap car is a life goal, old man. And, be sure and tell them I’m a huge car buff. I raced Bonneville a few times, did a few rally’s, and even got to drive a Bugatti around an Italian formula-1 track once. I’ve owned more cars than you ever will, that’s for sure.”
James turned aside and said hello. Neal slowly crept up on him, anxious to find out the answer to the request to have him appear on the show instead of his father. James hung up and hesitated before turning to face Neal. He nodded and Neal raised both hands, holding his breath before gradually allowing the happiness to surface.
While he jumped around punching the air and hollering with glee, James smiled and returned to his cognac.
“What say you and I pluck a few strings, son?”
That worked to settle Neal down and deflate a good portion of his exhilaration. He followed his father out of the study and across the grand foyer to the conservatory. Inside the glass enclosed rotunda were two grand pianos, several priceless violins, and a half-dozen guitars; some signed by other famous guitarists and the rest owned by James.
It still embarrassed Neal to think back to a time when he used to listen to and enjoyed hearing his father’s music before ever knowing who the man was to him. Since then, Neal had stopped listening to his father’s music along with anything in the genre that was popular during that era.
While they played a riff and rhythm section from one of James’s more popular tunes, Neal couldn’t help but notice the similarities in their playing style. Even the way the two held the instrument, picked at the strings, and moved to the beat; it was almost like watching himself play in a mirror.
Groaning inwardly and in denial about how good it felt to be where he was just then, Neal attempted to throw James off with a few slides and exaggerated whines. It only served to make James smile before he did something similar, and then the music took on a life of its own.
Chapter 23
With a long layover in London, Liv walked around the International terminal and stopped when she saw a poster for her favorite BBC America show. The three male hosts grinned at her in their familiar styles, prompting her to smile back. At the bottom of the poster, it read that tickets were available for an upcoming show.
Thinking it might be the last time she would ever be in London, Liv wondered if it was a good idea to go with her gut instinct and buy a ticket.
She glanced around, hoping no one saw her admiring the poster. Walking away slowly, she thought some more about buying one of those tickets. She felt confident knowing that the secret hangar where they filmed the show was north of the city.
Afte
r rescheduling her flight, Liv left the terminal and hailed a taxi. With the variety show ticket in hand, she went to a hotel and phoned Sherry to let her know about the change in her flight plan, the engine trouble, and her decision to stay in London for a few days.
“I’ve got to wait three days before the show, but I promise to keep in touch.”
“I envy you, Liv.”
“Why?” she laughed.
“I can’t even go shopping for groceries by myself, and here you are traveling all over Europe alone. Now, you plan to attend a television show alone. You’ve got guts.”
“You’ve just never been through what I have,” she admitted. “When I get home, we’ll have a nice, long talk about the differences between us, Sherry. I’ve made some interesting discoveries, and I think they might help you uncover some of your own.”
“No,” Sherry said, pouting and shaking her head. “I wouldn’t dare go anywhere alone, but whatever. You sound better. I can’t wait to hear all about your family and Hungary, Liv. Hurry home. I miss you.”
“Of course,” Liv giggled. “I miss you, too. Tell Carmen and Noelle I said hi and we’ll get together in a few days, okay?”
“I will, and please remember to be careful.”
****
The day of the show arrived, and Liv met some new friends while waiting outside on an overcast day to enter the hangar/studio. There were hundreds of fans standing in line, and Liv was halfway down that line when the doors finally opened.
Grateful for the chance to be so close to her favorite television personalities, Liv tried to concentrate on the fun she would have and not the anxiety that overrode things as a result of her behaving so impulsively. Being on her own in a foreign country and surrounded by strangers. Sherry had been right about it being something her previously cloistered friend tended to shy away from, and yet Liv had become a recluse by choice.
On top of that emotion, there was the internet buzz about Neal having arrived in London. Images of him with several pretty women graced nearly every new article about him, making Liv suffer more than just a twinge of jealousy.