Keep Coming Back to Love

Home > Other > Keep Coming Back to Love > Page 11
Keep Coming Back to Love Page 11

by Christa Maurice


  Sobs broke from her chest.

  “Oh come on, don’t cry. Jeez, I’m sorry.” Brian wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Look, Tyler’s a jerk. We’re all jerks. But I know he still likes you.”

  “Obviously not as much as I love him. I wouldn’t need another man.”

  “Yeah.” Brian stroked her hair. “I’m sorry, Candy.”

  “You understand, don’t you? You understand that I need to get away from him. I can’t see him. I want him so much and I want him to love me and he doesn’t.”

  “He does. It’s just, there’s all these girls and there’s not much else to do.”

  “It’s not fair.”

  The kettle clicked off.

  “I know. None of it’s fair. You want that coffee?”

  “No, I’m so tired.”

  “Why don’t you sleep here tonight?”

  “I’m not having sex with you, Brian.”

  “I know you’re not. We’ve done the brother speech already. You’re tired. Things have been rough with Joe and your school and stuff. I know you want to throw Tyler under a bus right now, but if you do that, you do it to all of us. We’re your friends, too. Let’s sleep on it and in the morning we’ll get some room service and talk it over when you can think. I won’t be able to contribute much though. You were always the smart one.”

  Candy leaned on him. All of them helped her move out of her dad’s house and surrounded her those first fragile weeks after. She had been living with the Callistos until Joe’s chemo forced her to move in with him. When Joe was diagnosed with cancer, they’d all called every day for the first few weeks trying to find out what was going on. Bear and his brother found her a car and Tony was still maintaining it for cost. Marc had been following along her classes, helping her study. Within a week after they met her, they’d trusted her to pick out their stage clothes, cut their hair and arrange all their advertising. They were the only family she’d ever really had. “I’m really tired, Brian.”

  “I know, Candy. We’ll get some sleep and figure it out in the morning. I promise.”

  * * * *

  “What did she say?” Jason demanded as Brian climbed onto the bus. He looked like shit, but no worse than Tyler felt. All night after they’d let him go back to his room, he’d listened at the wall with a glass trying to hear anything.

  “She isn’t quitting, but she won’t be meeting us in person anymore. Not all of us.” Brian slouched into the couch. “She’ll send us what we need to know.”

  “And how’s she doing?” Bear asked. Their driver climbed on and started the engine.

  “She’s tired and depressed and confused.” Brian shrugged. “The usual cocktail.”

  “You are such a dick, Tyler.” Marc shook his head.

  Tyler pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. They were just girls. Why couldn’t she understand? It wasn’t like he loved them or they loved him.

  “She said Joe isn’t responding to the chemo the way the docs hoped. It’s pretty bad. He’s only working on like half a lung or something now and she said the docs are afraid it’s spread to his liver. She hasn’t told him because she wants to keep his spirits up.”

  “Shit. He was fine when we started this tour.” Bear shook his head.

  “That’s the way it happens.” Sandy sat down as the bus started moving.

  Tyler peered at all of them over his knees. When she said she’d come to the hotel, he’d thought he had it made. Now he was a huge moron. A huge, lonely moron.

  As miles ground away under the wheels, the others drifted off to other things leaving Brian open.

  Tyler settled on the couch beside him. “Hey.” What happened last night in your room? Did she cry? Did she talk all night? Will she ever give me another chance? I need to know everything.

  “Hey.” Brian kept staring out the window.

  “So—”

  “Look, I know what you’re going to ask.”

  Did you have sex with her? Tell me she didn’t have revenge sex with you. If it was anybody else I wouldn’t care, but you. She likes you. It would mean something if it was you.

  “And I don’t think you’re an asshole.” Brian rubbed his face. “Candy’s being totally unreasonable. She can’t expect you to be totally faithful like that. It’s not fair. But she’s my friend too and her feelings are really hurt. She hardly stopped crying all night. I didn’t get any sleep.”

  She wouldn’t. Not with Brian. Not with anybody. She was too loyal.

  “The whole situation sucks.” Brian heaved a heavy sigh. “Really sucks. But nobody thinks you’re an asshole. I’m gonna go take a nap.” Brian shuffled back to the bedroom.

  None of the other guys were looking at him, let alone glaring at him like he was the world’s biggest jerk. Maybe Brian was right. In a couple of years maybe Candy would listen to reason.

  * * * *

  Candy leaned across Helen Wheals’ desk to look at the list of travel immunizations the older woman had gotten from the public health office. “Are you sure you don’t mind doing this?” Candy asked. “It’s not really your job description.”

  Helen kept her eyes focused on her list. “I’m happy to do it and the new computers are already doing a lot of the billing and invoicing I used to do for Joe. I have to do something to justify my pay. How’s he doing?”

  Candy smiled. “He’s doing really well. This California sun is good for him. You should give him a call.”

  “I will.” Helen rattled the paper in her hands. “I think we should talk to the boys’ mothers and get their childhood shot records.”

  “Why?”

  Helen looked up. “Some of those things you were immunized against when you were babies are still running rampant in other countries. We don’t want the tour to be derailed because they come down with measles. It’s a system we should have in place if we run tours for any other bands.”

  “All right. I’ll get in touch with their mothers about the shot records. Thanks tons for getting this together for me.” Candy stood up.

  “No problem. I sent the band’s account records to Sandy three days ago, but I haven’t heard back from him.”

  “He’s pretty tired. I believe he landed about midnight. The boys have a one-week break between shows. Bear’s brother picked him up at the airport.”

  “All right, I won’t panic yet.” Helen held out the list.

  Candy stood. “Thanks again.” She took the list and walked out of Helen’s office. On the way down the hall, she was stopped three times by the three teams competing for the Crest account. Everybody told her she was crazy to tie up half the agency’s resources chasing one client, but this was a big client and Joe was backing her. Once she arrived in Joe’s old office, she closed the door and stood staring at his desk. It was glass and chrome and she hated it. His desk in the office back home was oak. She much preferred it, but the sun here was good for Joe. She slid into his black leather chair that still felt too big and surveyed the list. They boys were not going to be happy about all the shots. The tattered phone book she’d been carrying since high school had settled to the bottom of her purse, but it was current.

  Connie found Jason’s shot records while they were on the phone. Mrs. Callisto was very organized. She promised to drop off a copy at the local office of the Goldman Group.

  Marc’s mother sounded hammered but swore she remembered him getting all his shots before he started school. She promised to look for the records. Candy made a note to call back tomorrow. Maybe if she tried earlier in the day Marc’s mother wouldn’t be at the bottom of a bottle.

  Mrs. D’Amato kept Candy on the phone while she rooted through the attic for Bear’s baby book. She wanted to know everything that was going on, but she was as impressed with mentions in the local paper as with heavy rotation on MTV. She meant well and she found Bear’s shot records in Tony’s baby book.

  Brian’s father promised to leave a not
e for his mother. Candy didn’t doubt that Brian had had all his shots or that his mother would deliver copies to the local office.

  Leaving Mrs. Franklin. Candy lifted the phone from its cradle and dialed without looking at the number. They hadn’t spoken since she and Tyler broke up three years ago.

  “Hello?” The voice on the phone was too young and too bored to be Tyler’s mother.

  “Hi Tiff, it’s Candy Perry.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Is your mother home?”

  A heavy sigh and the phone clanked on the other end. Candy knew Tiff had started college the previous fall. Tyler was paying for it just like Jason was paying Tessa’s law school tuition. Those bills were among Helen’s many duties.

  “Candy! Hello. It’s so good to hear from you.” Mrs. Franklin sounded breathless. “How is everything?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Franklin.”

  “I thought I told you to call me Angela.”

  “Yeah, that was a while ago. I guess I forgot.” The first time she met Tyler’s mother had been at his high school graduation. Tyler had been wearing jeans and a dress shirt that Candy had picked out for him. Candy had been wearing a pale blue sundress and white sandals. His mother had walked over to her, smiled and hugged her telling her what a great influence she had been on Tyler while Tyler blushed and rolled his eyes. Then she’d told Candy to call her Angela and that she hoped to see a lot more of her. Five years later and this was probably not what Angela Franklin had meant. “I was calling about Tyler’s immunization records.”

  “What for?”

  “The boys are going to Japan and Korea on tour and we need to make sure they stay healthy. There are immunizations they’re going to need to go overseas, but we wanted to make sure they’d had all the standard childhood shots while we’re at it.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Candy leaned into the phone as if hearing better would throw some meaning on what Angela had said. “I’m sorry?”

  Angela sighed. “Tyler has never liked getting shots.”

  “Does that mean he didn’t get his mumps and measles vaccinations?”

  “No. He got them, but I don’t know where the records are. It was traumatic for everyone.” Heavy sigh. “He doesn’t like shots. Or hospitals. Or doctors much.”

  Candy scratched her neck. In the past five years the band had had a number of medical brushes. The time Brian fell off the stage. That other time Brian fell off the stage. When Jason slipped on the edge of a hotel swimming pool and hit his head going down. Marc had had bronchitis at least three times and several sinus infections. Bear fell off his drum riser in the middle of a show. He also fell off the top of the tour bus once and no one had determined what he was doing up there in the first place. Dozens of slips, sniffles and drunken accidents that had landed four of the five members of the band under the care of a physician. Never Tyler. “Is this a phobia?”

  “He hasn’t been diagnosed.”

  Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t like doctors. Great. “Well, thanks for the warning. If you can find a vaccination record for him, we’d like to have it on file.”

  “Not a problem. It’s been so lovely to hear from you. I hope you’re doing well.”

  “Yeah.” Candy turned the chair to the window so she wouldn’t be facing the door. The view out the window was of another office building. “I’m fine. And you? Tiffany doing well in school?”

  “Tiffany? She’s fine. It’s been an adjustment.”

  Candy nodded. “Well, it was good talking to you, but I have work to do.”

  “Feel free to call anytime.”

  “Certainly, Angela. Goodbye.” Candy hung up. Tyler’s mother had to be blowing the whole thing out of proportion. Brian was super clumsy, Bear drank too much, and Marc smoked. It put them at greater risk to hurt themselves. Tyler happened to be the most graceful one in the group. That’s what kept him healthy. Not some imagined fear of needles.

  * * * *

  Tyler watched Candy and Sandy talking as if he was watching a ping-pong match. He hadn’t taken in anything they’d said for the last ten minutes because he stopped processing when Sandy mentioned immunizations.

  “We can go to our family doctor, right?” Brian asked. “At home?”

  Candy looked at the paper in her hand as if she hadn’t heard. She’d meet with the band now, but she was doing her best to pretend they weren’t there. It had taken a year to get her inside the same room with him and it wasn’t enough.

  “I can get someone to come in and do it. I think if you guys are going to tour outside the US, you’re going to need immunizations.” Sandy frowned. “I don’t like this hepatitis one. It’s going to take some time and we’re running on a short schedule.”

  “They only need the first two injections before exposure.” Candy glanced up from her notes. “They can do the other one any time within six months after the first two.”

  Tyler wiped sweat off his forehead. Three shots over six months?

  “Japanese encephalitis?” Sandy asked.

  “Helen talked to a doctor about that and he said unless the guys were going to be out in the country, they won’t need it. They won’t be going out of Tokyo or Seoul.”

  “Good, that will eliminate one.”

  Tyler glanced at the other guys. Bear was poring over a car magazine. Marc, chewing on his pen, had a newspaper open to the crossword. Jason was twiddling a pick between his fingers. Only Brian looked at all concerned with the conversation, and he wasn’t interested in stopping it.

  “Typhoid fever? In this day and age?” Sandy asked.

  “It was on the list, but the doctor Helen talked to said it was unlikely and we could skip that one. I did talk to the guys’ moms and they dug up their shot records from when they were babies to make sure they’d had all the vaccinations. Helen thought we better check.”

  “Clever woman that Helen. One of these days I’m going to hire her away from you,” Sandy muttered. “If we ever get to have an office to put a business manager in.”

  “Tyler?” Candy said.

  Tyler swallowed hard trying to work out the knot in his throat.

  Candy stared at him. “Are you okay?”

  The fact that she’d acknowledged him should have been exciting, but he couldn’t remember why. They were going to make him go to a hospital. Germs. Needles. People died in hospitals. “Fine,” he whispered.

  “Your mom said she knew you’d had your MMR when you were a kid, but she can’t find the records. I think we should have a blood test to make sure. We’d rather you didn’t pick up the measles on tour.”

  “No.” Tyler clenched his fists.

  Sandy looked up from his paper. “No what?”

  “I don’t want to go.”

  “To the doctor or to Japan?” Sandy frowned.

  “Japan. I don’t want to go. Cancel the tour.”

  “Cancel the tour?” Marc threw down the crossword puzzle he’d been working. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “No, I think it’s a waste of time.” Tyler jumped out of his chair.

  “Wow, Japan is a waste of time? What have you been smoking?” Jason muttered.

  “Tyler! Have you been smoking? You know it’ll damage your vocal cords. And whatever it is better be perfectly legal.” Sandy glared at Marc.

  “What? I swear my cigarettes are just cigarettes and I’m trying to quit.” Marc threw the newspaper on the floor and stormed out of the room.

  “You have all been in little rooms together too long.” Candy set aside her pencil. “Tyler, why don’t you want to go to Japan all the sudden? You were all for it six months ago when we discussed it.”

  “Well, I’ve changed my mind.” Tyler headed for the door. Marc had the right idea. Too many small rooms for too many months. They were suffocating him.

  “You can’t do that,” Jason shouted after him.

  Tyler paced down the hall to the ice machine.
The first tour had been incredible. Too damn long, but incredible. Except for the breaking up with Candy. Then they were six months in the studio working on the second album, which was slaughtering all the sales figures from the first one.

  “Hey man, what’s up?” Brian, the last person he wanted to talk to, asked.

  “I don’t see why we have to tour all the time.” Smoking seemed to calm Marc down. Maybe he should give it a try. The Beatles smoked. Weed was good, too. Sandy hated anything and everything that smacked of drugs, but how bad could weed be? Damn, most nights he walked off stage with an excellent contact high.

  “Because that’s how we make our money and keep our fans happy. Besides, you love performing.” Brian grabbed his arm. “Can you slow down? If I wanted a workout, I’d go to the gym.”

  “Then go. I’m not stopping you.”

  “Tyler?” Candy caught him as he passed the door of the room they’d been meeting in. Great, now he had Brian and Candy out here. “Tyler, what is the matter?”

  He swept past her. There was a cigarette machine in the lobby. He could call down and have somebody bring a pack up for him. On his next circuit, Candy had stepped into the middle of the hall with her arms folded. When he tried to dodge around her, she stepped in front of him again. The next attempt was just as successful. “Will you let me past?”

  “No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

  She was so beautiful. Way back when he met her, she’d been hot, but time gave her something else. Something way beyond the expertly tailored gray suit whose jacket she’d left in the room or the expensive haircut. Would she listen to reason now? Could he make her understand that he really loved her and none of the other girls meant anything?

  “Tyler?”

  “Come on, man. Tell us what’s wrong,” Brian asked.

  “Just fucking go away!” Tyler shouted at Brian.

  Brian flinched. “Dick.” Then he stomped into his own room. Before the door slammed, Tyler could hear Brian’s current steady groupie, Bonnie, asking what was going on.

  “Tyler,” Candy said softly. “He’s trying to help.”

  Was that what he was doing when he took you to his room before I could talk to you last year? Helping? With friends like that who needs enemies? I could have straightened it all out if they’d just given me the time.

 

‹ Prev