by Trudy Stiles
“How long has she been with you? Four or five months?” Heath asks.
“Why?” I ask, wondering why this is a relevant question.
“You’d think you’d know by now what day her birthday is. Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know what you’re getting at. It’s not like Sam and I are… ” What are we?
We arrive at the studio, and everyone’s cars are there. Even Alex’s. It doesn’t seem to bother Heath too much that Alex is still involved with us and our creative process. He’ll be happy if one or two of his songs make it onto the next album. Nothing really fazes Heath, and I like that about him.
Our manager and publicist are both here as well as several suits from the record label. Today is a critical day in planning for our next tour and, for the first time since Kai came to live with me, I dread having to leave him. It’s been a while since I’ve felt the need to escape. He’s growing fast, and his rough patches are starting to become less frequent. I’m conflicted about planning our tour knowing I’m going to have to leave him.
We’ve all filled the room and have jammed around a conference table. Our manager, Tom, shuts the door. “Okay, let’s get right to it. We need to know how committed Epic Fail is to finishing this next album. From what I see, you have two tracks out of twelve complete. What’s going on?”
He scans the room and tries to make eye contact with each of us. Alex is as relaxed as he could be because the pressure isn’t on him at all. He has most of the lyrics written that he wants to present to us. It’s up to us to create the music.
Dax speaks first, as always. “Tom, we all have competing priorities at the moment, and I think we need to lay out a flexible timeline that we can adapt to.”
“We’re booking stadiums for over a year from now and we need to know if you’re going to have a new album to tour with,” one of the record executives speaks up. I don’t know his name, but I think he’s been involved with planning our tours in the past.
“That’s kind of hard to say,” Dax responds.
My mind drifts as voices raise in the room. All I can think about is how big Kai will be this time next year. Will he be walking? Talking? Running? Will he be happy or will he still have residual issues from his drug exposure?
Will Sam still be helping us?
That’s the critical question and my gut tells me no. I overheard her talking with Peggy the other day about trying to get her old job back. Apparently, the hospital administration conducted a full investigation into the death of the little boy that she was caring for. They retracted their decision to suspend her and offered to reinstate her at full pay. I don’t fully understand what happened, but I think that’s good news for her. But bad news for me.
“Garrett?” Tom asks, and I realize that I have no idea what everyone was just talking about.
“I’m sorry, what was the question?” I ask.
“Can you be ready to tour in six months?” Tom asks, his tone stiff.
“No way. I don’t see us getting close to finishing our album and getting ourselves together that quickly,” I respond and look to Dax for the assist.
“I think we can all agree that six months is way too soon.” Dax jumps in, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“How about a compromise?” Tom interjects.
Dax raises his eyebrow and leans forward. “Compromise?”
“Let’s plan a small venue acoustic tour where you play your current albums and work on the new album on the road. We could potentially film it, following you as you tour various cities.”
Tristan smirks. “The Foo Fighters just did something similar with Sonic Highways. Although it wasn’t acoustic, it’s too close to copying their last tour.”
Tom shoves his hands in his pockets. “Well, I’ve exhausted my ideas.”
Heath speaks up. “I think if we set a flexible schedule, we can get moving quicker than we all think.” He looks at me. “Garrett, what about using your recording studio? Since Alex and Tristan live close to you, we can make it easy on you guys and come out there, instead of the city?”
Dax nods and seems to like this idea. Tristan would be thrilled not to have to go into the city as much as we would need to if we were recording there. My studio at home is great but could use some upgrades.
“We’ll need to do a minor configuration change to the boards and add a second soundproof section of the room.” I turn to Tom. “Can you get some guys out next week or the week after so we can run through specs?”
“It’s going to cost money. You know this, right?” Tom replies.
Dax turns to the record executives. “If you want us on the road in twelve months, this is our deal on the table. The label handles all modifications to Garrett’s studio or we push the start of our tour out indefinitely.”
Tom is clearly useless in this negotiation and Dax has taken control.
The executives huddle at the end of the conference table, and by the end of their whispered discussion, they’re all nodding their heads in agreement.
After a few more discussion topics, the meeting is adjourned and we all file out of the crowded conference room.
Alex approaches me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “How’re you doing, bro?”
“Hanging in there,” I say.
“Thanks for offering your studio.”
“Well, Heath offered it up and I just agreed. I don’t want to let my current situation affect the rest of these guys. I don’t want to let them down, you know?”
We talk in code because the label has no idea what’s going on. Our publicist advised me to keep Kai and his existence secret until he’s healthy enough to share with the world. We don’t need the extra stress of stalkers at my house.
“Tabby and the kids would love to come meet your little man. Just let me know when. She’s been itching to get over to see him. I just don’t want her getting any ideas.” He laughs. “Little Noah is in his terrible two’s, and trust me, this factory is closed for a while.”
It’s been so long since I’ve seen Tabby and the kids that I didn’t even think Noah was walking yet. “Wow, you must have your hands full.”
“You will soon.” He chuckles. “Gotta run. See you in a few weeks?”
I nod and he takes off.
“Ready?” Heath says as he approaches me.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, sorry about that in there. I just didn’t want to see our whole deal fall apart with the label. They were squirming in their seats for a while, and I was worried they were going to force a contract restructuring or something like that.”
“It’s okay. I think this arrangement will work.” I just hope it doesn’t bother Sam. She’s so used to it being quiet and somewhat peaceful at my place. I should have run this by her before I said yes. What if this disturbs Kai too much?
The drive home is short, and Heath drops me at the front door. “Want to come in for a beer?” He looks at me funny. I’ve never been super social with him, but somehow the two of us always wind up together.
“Nah, I’m exhausted.” He looks in his rearview mirror as another car is pulling up behind him.
Cassie parks next to Heath’s car and the passenger door flies open. Sam yells, “Heyyy!” and practically falls out of the car.
Holy shit, she’s wasted.
Heath laughs and puts his car in reverse. “Glad to see you’ve got this under control, G. Happy birthday.” He backs up, and I can see him laughing down my long driveway.
“I’m really sorry, Garrett. I don’t know how she got like this,” Cassie says and runs to help Sam into the house.
“You gave me shotsssss,” she says almost incoherently.
“Only a couple. Sam, what else did you drink?”
Sam mumbles something and goes limp in Cassie’s arms. “A little help?” she calls out to me, and I rush to help get Sam inside.
We bring her right upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Sam falls onto the bed, and I leave her with Cassie.
I
walk down the hallway toward Kai’s room. Peggy steps out into the hallway, holding him in her arms. He’s sound asleep and looks content. Good.
“I thought I heard the girls come in. Are they here?” she whispers.
“Yeah, Sam may have had a little too much to drink,” I warn her, and she smiles.
“It’s been a while since she got out, and I expected she would enjoy herself a little too much.” She shakes her head and turns to go back inside his room.
“You can go home tonight, if you want,” I suggest. “I can take care of Kai if you need me to.”
“That’s okay. It’s your birthday too, so you both should have the night off.”
“How did you know?” I ask Peggy, curious. I don’t make a habit of telling many people.
“Your mother called the house phone earlier and she mentioned it.”
Cassie emerges from the guest room down the hall. “I’m so sorry, I thought I only gave her a few drinks, but wow, she’s a mess.” She giggles a little and walks down the stairs. “I hope you don’t mind if I leave. I left our friends at the bar and I’m the designated driver.”
She disappears through the front door, and Peggy says, “Why don’t you get some rest? Happy birthday, Garrett.”
I walk past the room where Sam is passed out, and I’m tempted to peek in. I restrain myself and head toward the other end of the floor where my room is.
I strip down to my boxers and climb into my huge bed. I sink into the mattress and immediately fall asleep.
I WAKE UP WITH A START, and I feel my covers being pulled off of me. What the hell? I look at my feet, and Sam is curled up at the end of the bed and she’s attempting to roll herself in my comforter. She seems disoriented, and I whisper, “Sam? What are you doing?”
Startled, she sits up straight and pulls the blanket up to cover her chest.
“Where am I?” she asks, clearly confused.
“You’re in my room,” I state, and she gasps.
“How did I get here?”
“I have no idea.”
She looks around, her eyes squinted. “Wow, I feel like shit.” She holds her head, and she doesn’t look so good. I glance over at the clock, and it’s almost five in the morning. The blanket shifts and I see she’s wearing a tight tank top.
“I guess you don’t know how long you’ve been in here?” I ask her.
Her embarrassment is evident, and she begins to get up.
“Wait,” I say to her, doing everything in my power to stop a half-naked Sam from leaving my room. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just insanely hung-over.” She plants her hands into the mattress, pressing downward. She seems to be trying to steady herself.
“Why don’t you lie down for a second. It may help you feel better.” I can’t believe what I’ve suggested, and she does so without hesitation. She’s no longer at the foot of the bed but closer to the headboard. She tucks her knees up toward her chest, and they brush up against my thigh. Her legs are bare. Is she wearing pants?
“So you had fun last night, huh?” I ask.
She looks mortified. “I don’t even remember coming home. I didn’t think I had that much to drink, but apparently I did. I’m sorry for coming in here. This must feel totally weird to you.” She holds the blanket close to her face, and I see her eyes get heavy again. It’s not weird at all. It feels… good. “I must have thought this was Kai’s room.”
“I hope you had a great birthday,” I say.
“I think I did.”
“My birthday was yesterday also.” I can’t believe I just told her. I didn’t think that through. I never celebrate it because of what my dad did to himself on this day, but I just blurted it out without thinking.
Her eyes grow wide. “Really?”
I nod slowly and turn on my side to face her. “I don’t really like to celebrate it. It doesn’t elicit happy memories for me.”
“Me either,” she says, and her eyes glaze over. She looks exhausted. Is she about to cry?
“That’s understandable,” I say. “How do you do it, though? You seem like you have it way more together than I ever could.” She’s strong and confident. I’m surprised to see this moment of weakness.
“I don’t know. Sometimes my birthday is really hard. Especially because it’s a reminder of everything that I’ve lost. My family.” She pauses and looks pensively out the window. “I sometimes feel like I’m drowning without them, but then I remember they taught me how to swim.”
She’s insightful and inspiring. “It seems like you’ve been able to find peace, in a way,” I say encouragingly.
“I think I have.” She holds my gaze with her sleepy eyes and says, “You should try to find peace too. You have a really big reason to do that now, you know.”
I nod again and admit, “I never thought I’d be in this situation.”
“Being a father isn’t a situation. It’s a choice.”
“It wasn’t my choice, Sam.”
Her face hardens and her eyes fill with tears. “It’s your choice now. It’s your life now. That little boy depends on you to live. Stop dwelling on the events that you had no control over and start focusing on your future with Kai, because I know it’s going to be wonderful.”
I exhale and struggle to find my next breath. Her words are profound and tear right through me. These words come from a girl whose parents were murdered and her life forever altered. Yet she’s risen from it all and has the ability to be so positive about the rest of her life. And mine.
I reach out to push aside a thick curl that fell onto her face. She closes her eyes when my hand brushes against her cheek.
She places her hand over mine, her touch softens my soul. It transmits strength and security. Love and understanding. I don’t want her to let go. She exhales softly and is sound asleep.
“Where did you come from?” I whisper.
Sam
Past
Trenton, New Jersey
Age 20
CASSIE FALLS ONTO HER BED across from mine and lets out a sigh of relief.
“This was easily the hardest year yet. I don’t think I can take clinicals anymore.” She complains and rolls over, kicking off her tennis shoes. We just finished our microbiology final and we’re done for the semester.
“Seriously, Cassie? You’ve gotten straight As so far. What are you complaining about?”
“I don’t think I’m cut out for this, Sam. You’ll make a better nurse than me. You’re built for this. You have the desire to help people. Me? I’m disgusted by them. If I have to wipe another ass…” She stands up and pulls her tank top over her head. “I need a shower.”
We share a one-bedroom apartment that I swear is smaller than our dorm room was on campus. She takes three steps and is already in our bathroom. The water turns on and she’s still complaining. “How am I going to continue? Sure, I can do the book stuff just fine, but when you put me in front of a patient, I can’t do it. You saw what happened last week when I had to find that dude’s vein and draw blood. It was a mess! I should be wearing a sign that says ‘Beware – Nursing Student.’”
I shrug my shoulders, knowing she’s so much better than she thinks she is. Her confidence when it comes to her nursing abilities is lacking, but her skill is not. We’ll just need to work on that some more.
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I almost vomited all over my patient right after I was told I had to give her an enema. Imagine that!” I laugh and stretch out on my bed. Googie is perched on my pillow, and I rub her like I do every day. She’s as old as I am, and her stuffing is practically gone.
Cassie chuckles and I can hear the shower door close.
“Just think, this time next year, we’ll be on our own in a hospital, saving lives every single day,” I call out to her and wait for her response.
“Fuck that!” she says from the shower. “I need to find something else to do.”
“Stop being so dramatic,” I say and roll over on my side.
“Always so damn dramatic.”
The water turns off and she’s in the room with a towel wrapped around her head and another one around her body. Drips of water trail behind her.
“Didn’t you dry yourself off at all?” I scold her as she drips onto the carpet.
“You didn’t listen to a word I said, Sam. Really listen. I can’t do this anymore.”
Her expression is serious, and I sit up on the bed. I quickly toss Googie to her and she catches her clumsily.
“Googie says you can do it, so you can. Now stop this nonsense and get your shit together.”
She looks at my floppy childhood friend, and I see the smile in her eyes.
“Well, if your dog thinks I can do it, then maybe I can.” She tosses Googie back to me and laughs out loud.
She slips into comfy leggings and a tank top and crawls into her own bed. Her eyes find mine and they glisten a bit. “Sam, I’m so proud of you,” she says.
“Don’t get sappy on me now,” I respond, wondering where this conversation is going.
“Seriously, look at you. You’re the star student. You do everything with ease and you have this innate desire to help people. You want to make them all better. Every last one of them. You have a gift and you don’t even know it.”
Her tone is serious, and I know she means every word that she’s saying. Aunt Peggy says the same words to me all of the time.
“It’s weird, Cass. I feel like I have a purpose, you know? I appreciate what I have and how I can help others. It scares the hell out of me that somehow I’ll mess it up, but I know what I’m supposed to be doing. Don’t you feel that way?” I ask her, curious.
“Hell no,” she answers definitively. “I don’t know what my purpose is or the reason I’m even in nursing school. I’m following your lead. Following in your footsteps. I see what makes you happy. What makes you tick. And I want to feel the same way. I want to be like you.”
I snort out loud.
“No you don’t. Trust me. You know me better than anyone and know everything that I’ve gone through. You do not want to be like me.”