Stepping out of my car, I take a deep breath and fill my lungs. The smell and sounds of home soothe me as I make my way to the front door. I cross our crowded, cluttered porch and ease the front door open. It’s unlocked, as usual.
“Hello?” I call, stepping inside. I can hear people moving about in the living room, and catch the last snippet of a heated conversation that cuts off the minute I come in. Quick footsteps echo through the front hall, and my mom steps out to meet me.
“Ellie...” she breathes, her face white.
“Mom?” I say, stepping toward her, “What’s wrong?”
“What are you doing back?” she demands, “You’re supposed to be at the festival.”
Her anger cuts me to the quick. I’m so startled by her manner that my words leave me. Here, I was expecting a warm welcome, a loving embrace. But instead, Mom stands before me, quivering with outrage. What the hell is going on?
“Did I...did I do something wrong?” I ask, my voice trembling on the edge of despair.
Mom’s eyes widen, and it’s like she sees me for the first time right at that moment. Her hand flies to her mouth, and sympathetic tears spring to her eyes.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she whispers, pulling me into a tight embrace, “I’m so sorry. With everything that’s happening...You must be so overwhelmed. You poor thing...”
I collapse against her, relief and confusion fighting for prominence within me. Nothing about this feels right. “What’s going on?” I ask, “Are you mad at me?”
“No, darling,” she says, smoothing down my hair, “The world has just gone mad, is all. I wish I knew you were coming. We...We have a situation on our hands, here.”
“Is everyone OK?” I ask, “Did something happen to Kate?”
“We’re both fine,” she says quickly, taking hold of my shoulders, “Everything’s going to be OK. It’s just...I wish you weren’t here for this.”
“For what?” I ask, growing annoyed with her vague answers.
“Ellie?” I hear Kate gasp from beyond the foyer. In a heartbeat, I’m wrapped up again in my sister’s arms. I can feel her chest heaving with suppressed sobs, even as she holds me.
“Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on?” I ask, looking back and forth between them.
“This isn’t fair,” Kate mutters, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”
“We didn’t even want you to know. It’s so...”
“Mom, Kate,” I say, “Please. What do you have to tell me?”
In their silence, I look up in surprise as another figure emerges from within our home. I watch as a tall figure makes its way to where we’re standing, clustered around the front door. There’s been a man here this whole time, listening to our strange and tearful hellos. For a moment, I stare at him dumbly, wondering who it is that has my family in such a state. But as he takes a step into light, an eerie, nauseating sense of familiarity comes over me.
He stands before us with his hands in his front pockets. The clothing on his back is worn—a thin flannel shirt and corduroy slacks that have seen better days. His scuffed-up shoes are planted firmly on the floor, as if he has some divine right to be here among us. The mop of hair on his head is nearly white, though I’d guess it was blonde at some point. A shaggy beard obscures most of his features, save his big, prominent eyes. It’s his eyes that finally usher me to a place of understanding.
“Hello, sweetheart,” he says to me, opening his arms, “Long time no see.”
“What the hell is he doing here?” I ask, my voice just barely above a whisper.
I haven’t seen this man in years, hardly once in the latter half of my life. Part of me had hoped to hear one day that he’d died and disappeared without a trace. But apparently, that was just wishful thinking.
“Hey,” he says, pouting theatrically, “Is that any way to greet me after such a long time?”
“I think it’s pretty appropriate, yeah,” I say. I can feel my fingers balling into fists, itching to slam into that miserable, grinning face of his.
“I just wanted to stop by an congratulate you on all your recent success,” he says, smiling obliviously. “I never would have thought my little girl would be such a sensation!”
“Let’s get one thing perfectly clear,” I say, advancing toward him, “I am not now, nor have I ever been, your little girl.”
“She’s got my stubborn streak,” the man says to my mother.
My mouth falls open in wordless anger as my father grins dumbly around the room at the three women he abandoned so long ago. And here, I’d been thinking that things couldn’t any worse.
Chapter Thirteen
“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Kelly screeches.
I push past her, my clothes dripping wet. “Did I stutter?” I growl, stomping back to my bedroom, “I’m going after her.”
“No you’re not,” Kelly says, hurrying after me, “You don’t even know where’s she’s gone, Casanova. How the hell are you going to follow her?”
“I’ll figure that out along the way,” I tell her, slamming the flimsy bedroom door in her face. As fast as I can, I rip the sodden clothes from my body. The storm is well upon us, now, drenching the entire festival. For once, I’m glad to have the rock star treatment. I wouldn’t want to be down in a tent during this downpour. The festivities are sure to be put on hold for at least the duration of the storm.
I’ll have plenty of time to go and find Ellie, wherever it is she’s gone.
“Trent,” Kelly says from beyond the door, “Trent, I’m sorry for acting the way I did. I’m under a lot of pressure right now. I’m not sure if you know this, but you’re not exactly the easiest person to manage. Keeping everything in line hasn’t been easy lately, with your priorities wandering. Why don’t you just open the door, and we can talk about all this. I just want things to be OK between us.”
“I’m sure you do,” I mutter, pulling on a dry pair of jeans.
My every muscle is tensed with pent-up anger. I’m halfway worried that I might throw Kelly bodily from the bus if I spend more than three seconds speaking to her. What she pulled just now was reprehensible, tasteless, and downright mean. She purposefully tried to drive a wedge between Ellie and I, and even worse, she may have succeeded.
If that little stunt proves to have ruined any chance of something between me and Ellie, my turncoat manager is going to have hell to pay.
The look on Ellie’s face as she stood outside before me will forever be burned into my memory. The lost, bewildered hurt in her eyes was almost too much for me to bear. And to think that I’m partially responsible for that pain? I won’t let it stand. I can’t. I have to go find her.
But the trouble is, I have no idea where she’s gone. With the head start she has now, she could be well on her way to just about anywhere. Will she camp out in a Holiday Inn somewhere until the media forgets about our little photo spread? Or maybe she’s off to find her gloomy music partner, wherever he’s run off to?
Neither of those scenarios seems right. If I had to guess, from what I know of Ellie, she’d want to be with people she trusts right now. She’d want to be home. But I have no idea where “home” is, for her.
Still, I have to do something. I can’t just stay here and continue along with the festival as if nothing’s happened.
I scramble around the room, trying to locate a clean shirt. Frustrated, I rip the covers off the bed, hoping that some stray v neck will be concealed among the sheets. As I toss the linens away, a little dark patch catches my eye.
Looking closer, I realize what it is. A small leather wallet, buried underneath the bedclothes. I grab it up and open it eagerly. A little shout of joy escapes me as I see Ellie’s drivers license, with her home address printed right before my eyes. That joy is chased away by the realization that the girl I care about is careening across Kansas without any money or ID.
All the more reason to hurry.
I finally manage to get myself dressed and bu
rst out of the room, nearly bowling Kelly over as I go. She’s still chattering at me, but I’ve long since stopped listening. As I stalk through the main cabin, I hear the grumbling of my half-sleeping band mates. Kelly’s racket has finally roused them from their sleep. Rodney, Rodger, and Kenny stumble off their bunks, blinking at us in the dim light.
“What the hell is all this?” Rodger mumbles, rubbing his bloodshot eyes, “Do you guys know what time it is?”
“I thought we had a ‘no fighting before noon’ rule?” Kenny whines, looking imploringly between Kelly and I as though we’re his parents, in the middle of a fight.
“Sorry guys,” I say, “I need to take off for a little while, and Kelly’s throwing a shit fit about it.”
“Take off?” Rodney says, taken aback, “What are you talking about?”
“Something’s happened with Ellie. She left—”
“How is that your problem?” Rodger asks.
I look at the guys, at a loss. I wasn’t expecting to give them an explanation, although they are entitled to one. Kelly crosses her arms smugly and waits for me to say something.
“I just need to find her,” I say finally, “My best guess is that she’s gone home, and—”
“Dude. You can’t leave,” Rodger cuts me off, “Have you forgotten the fact that we have a show to play, here?”
“Not to mention that the only reason we’re here in the first place is because you wanted to come,” Rodney adds.
“I don’t understand,” Kenny says, “Are you and that girl, like, a thing now?”
“None of that is important,” I say, exasperated, “I’ll be back in time for the show. We’re closing the festival, I have time.”
“And how are you planning to go after her?” Kelly asks sharply.
She’s got me there. I can’t really go careening through the rain in the tour bus, can I? “I...Um...” I splutter, “I hadn’t really gotten to that part of the plan just yet.”
“Of course not,” Kelly scoffs, “That’s because I’ve been holding your hand through every practical element of your life for years. That goes for all of you. You all need me, especially you, Trent. I try to give you some wiggle room when it comes to bullshit antics, but things have gotten out of control. Look at us! We’re camped out here in the mud, while we could be playing shows in New York and Paris, ordering room service and trashing hotel rooms like real rock stars! We’ve gotten seriously off track, here. I think we’ve all lost sight of our priorities. What we need to do is finish off this festival, then take a serious look at what we want from this band.”
“You keep saying ‘we’,” I say through gritted teeth, “But I don’t think you understand, Kelly. You’re not part of any ‘we’. And if we’re off track as a band, it’s because you’ve been pushing us to sell out from the very beginning. If there’s a problem here, I assure you that it’s not us. It’s all you. You’ve been manipulating me from the start, and now you’ve got us all between your teeth!”
“I doubt that the rest of the band feels that way,” Kelly huffs, turning toward the guys, “Isn’t that right, gentlemen?”
My friends stare at us, slack-jawed. A heavy, awkward silence descends upon the cabin.
For the first time, we can all clearly see exactly how distant we’ve become from each other. When we started out as a band, the four of us guys were inseparable. Writing music, we were practically of a single mind. Our first album was something that we were proud of, an equal effort between the four of us with no meddling from Kelly.
But now? We’ve put out three records in three years, and none of them have come close to the raw, unique power of our first. Something has been wrong here for a very long time, and I think I’m starting to realize what it is.
“I know it’s rude to speak for the group,” I begin, glaring across the space at our manipulative manager, “But I’d like to float a suggestion, here.”
“What is it, Trent?” asks Kenny.
“I don’t think there’s a place for Kelly in the structure of this band anymore,” I continue, “And I move that we let her go, effective immediately.”
Kelly lets out sharp laugh. “You can’t fire me, Trent,” she says, “I’m the only reason you have a career in the first place. Let alone the fact that I have a contract, if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be tending bar in the valley, playing for tips.”
“That may be true,” I say, “But I think you’ve let personal feelings cloud your judgment as a professional. I no longer feel that—HEY!”
I duck as Kelly snatches up a glass bottle and lets it fly at my face. The projectile just misses me and shatters against the wall. She’s just about to grab another missile when Kenny gets a hold of her and restrains her with some difficulty.
“Christ!” Rodney yells, “Get it together, people!”
“I second Trent’s motion,” Rodger puts in, “We need to get her out of here.”
“Fine!” Kelly screams, elbowing Kenny in the gut. “I’ll go! I’ll watch from my cushy apartment while you idiots run this entire business into the ground.”
“It’s not a business,” I snarl, “It’s a band. A band that you no longer have a hand in ruining.”
“No,” Kelly says, “I’m sure you’ll be able to do that perfectly well all on your own.”
She turns on her heel and stalks off into the back of the bus, hopefully to pack her bags. I look around the cabin at the faces of my three band mates. Everyone is more than a little disoriented.
“So...Now what?” Kenny asks, holding his stomach.
“Now, I need to go,” I tell them, “I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t let her just disappear. I have to make things right between us.”
“But you’ll be back for our show, right?” Rodger asks nervously.
“Of course,” I tell him, “No matter what, there’s no way I’ll miss our show.”
“Well, let me just put this out there,” Rodney says, crossing his arms, “If you’re not back in time, I’m walking. Things have been bat shit crazy around here for way too long for me to put up with any more bullshit. We’re down a manager, our fans are turning on us, and we’re stuck out here on a hill in the middle of a thunderstorm. If you blow us off, that’s it.”
“I understand,” I tell him, “I do. And it’s not going to happen. I’ll be here for you guys. I just...have to be there for Ellie first.”
“But, Trent,” Kenny says, “How are you going to go after her?”
“Ah. Right. It keeps coming back to that...” I say.
“We can’t take the bus,” Rodger says, “It’s not fast enough.”
“I think you’re forgetting something pretty crucial,” Rodney says.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Dude,” he groans, “You’re a rock star. You happen to have about ten drivers and a private jet. You do the math.”
I run to Rodney and throw my arms around him, bear hug style. “You’re a genius!” I shout.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Now get a move on, would you? We’ll get Kelly out of here if you hurry up.”
I whip out my cell and start making frantic calls to my drivers. I have a good idea of where Ellie’s gone off to, and the means to go after her. In the darkness of our predicament, a tiny little light of possibility is flaring. There’s the smallest chance that I can make everything right, here. All I have to do is ignore the staggering futility of it all and go full speed ahead.
No matter what the odds happen to be, I have to at least try. I am a rock star, after all.
Destiny is my bitch.
Chapter Fourteen
“Ellie, why don’t you sit down?” my mom suggests, awkwardly patting the couch cushion beside her.
I keep my feet planted firmly on the ground, across the living room from where my parents are seated stiltedly on the sofa, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Kate has taken to splitting the difference, pacing anxiously across the carpe
t. My sister is used to being able to control emergency situations as a nurse—it must be killing her to have no way of fixing this particular mess.
“I’m fine where I am,” I tell the room, crossing my arms firmly across my chest and keeping my gaze well away from my father.
He’s planted himself in our home as if he has every right to be here. The same dopey, oblivious grin has been plastered onto his face since I walked in the door. Mom’s ushered us all into the living room for some deranged version of a family meeting, or something. And to think, I came home from Hawk and Dove for the sake of finding a little pocket of sanity waiting for me. Right on the nose, as usual.
“I can’t believe how grown up you girls are,” Dad spouts cheerfully.
“Go figure. Years pass, children get older,” Kate mutters, “Maybe it wouldn’t be so surprising if you’d actually been around to watch us grow up.”
“That’s not entirely fair,” he says condescendingly, “I didn’t leave you three. Your mother thought it was best to buy a house behind my back and move out on me.”
“Gee Dad,” I spit, “You think the double life of coke and hookers had anything to do with that?”
“That has been wildly exaggerated,” he sniffs, leaning back into the couch.
“I resent that,” Mom says quietly.
“Damn right, you do,” Kate says.
I watch my mother shift uncomfortably in her seat. Why does she feel squeamish about her role in all this? Getting us away from this man was the best thing she could have possibly done for us. I can barely remember my parents as a married couple, but watching their dynamic now only makes me more furious.
My mother, an empowered and actualized woman, is shrinking away from my dad, as if he still has some kind of control over her. I never realized how entwined they’d actually been, or how hard it must have been for her to pick up and leave him. I feel a new sort of respect for my mom in this moment, and a whole new level of contempt for my father.
“I don’t know if anyone’s said it yet,” I begin, “But I really don’t think you should be here, Dad.”
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