by Andrea Smith
I was glad Coop was dealing with all the legalities for the record label and our upcoming tour. I needed a vacay in the worst way. March was a long way off, and I only hoped I could hang in there without going totally crazy here. Not only was I dealing with the situation with Mom, but also with the emotional upheaval I was feeling about the Emmett debacle.
All of this shit pissed me off, but I knew it had to be done. We needed to write a few more songs for the album, and I was hoping to approach Coop with a song I had been working on. I knew the band had songs they’d written in the past, and now would be the perfect time to sell them. It wouldn’t hurt to at least ask, though. Coop was pretty open, and he always made me feel part of the band.
I looked up from the kitchen window and my heart fluttered when I saw Emmett walking Emmie in a stroller through the trailer park. I wondered where Stacie was. It was a crisp, sunny October day. Indian summer was here, and fall was such a beautiful time of year in the Midwest. For some reason, autumn made me sad this year.
I moved to the side, not wanting him to spot me watching him. It had been a month since our elevator encounter, but I knew we’d eventually have to see one another. Coop had already sent out a schedule for practices, and it now was all business, not just some guys rocking it in some smelly garage. We still had to practice there until such time as we could afford better.
I peeked through the side of the dusty, faded sheer curtain, hoping to get another glance at him. I couldn’t spot him so I figured he must have gone back to his trailer until a knock sounded on the door. From the angle of the kitchen window, I couldn’t see who was there, but hell, I needed a break from the tedious paperwork.
I wasn’t expecting to see Emmett standing there on the redwood deck when I opened the front door.
“Emmett,” I said, not hiding the surprise in my voice. It wasn’t as if I didn’t know he lived just down the lane from me. He was moving the little umbrella stroller back and forth. I looked down and saw Emmie sleeping peacefully, wrapped in a pretty pink blanket.
As much as I fought my attraction for him, the mere closeness threatened my ability to think clearly. He was even hotter pushing that stroller than he was playing his guitar, and that was pretty hot, too.
“Olivia, I… can we please talk?” His eyes looked so sincere, but I wanted to play it off. Tell him there was no need and that I would see him at practice. But I did the next worse thing when I said, “Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do.” My response was so cold and aloof, even I shuddered inwardly at it. I could at least make some cooing remarks over the baby.
“Thanks,” he said, and I held the door as he pushed the stroller in. I was glad that Mom was taking a nap. She hadn’t been sleeping well with her new medication.
I walked over to the old, orange, floral-patterned couch and offered him a seat. “Want a beer or soda?” I asked.
“Ah,” he looked at the sleeping baby and said, “I’ll take a soda.”
I went to the fridge and grabbed the sodas. “How’s Stacie?” I asked, handing him one. I tried to sound nonchalant, but it sounded more condescending.
“I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about us, Olivia.”
Something inside me snapped, but I had to keep it quiet with a sleeping baby and Mom on the other side of the paper-thin trailer wall, napping.
“Emmett, there is, and never was an us. Don’t make this complicated.”
“Olivia, everything is complicated. You have no idea what I’m up against.”
I was boiling inside. Emmett thought he had problems? He created his problems. “Emmett, I don’t have sympathy for self-induced problems. You have no idea what I’m up against. Yeah, you have a baby to raise, but at least you have help.”
“Help? Who in the hell is helping?” he asked incredulously.
“Stacie. I mean, she is the mother. It’s the two of you. I have no one to help with my mother. And let me tell you, taking care of an adult is much harder than raising a baby.”
He scoffed. “Stacie is of no help, and it is not the two of us. Why do you think I’m walking her around? Stacie’s over there, screaming and wailing about how she needs a break. I’m the one who’s been getting up with her during the night. Stacie seems to have no… what do you call it–maternal instincts?”
“Well, you should have thought about that before you knocked her up. It was all about the sex with you, right Emmett? Well guess what? Paybacks are a bitch. It looks to me like you’re getting exactly what you deserve.”
I knew I was being totally and completely a ludicrous bitch making statements and accusations that even I didn’t totally believe, but I just couldn’t help it. It had to be over, because I saw nothing good coming of it down the road.
“What the hell does that mean?” he demanded, clearly pissed. “You don’t know shit about what happened. Hell, I’m not even sure I’m this baby’s father. That remains to be seen in another six weeks.”
“Oh yeah, that’s really convenient isn’t it? Plausible deniability. Is that your plan?”
“What plan? My only plan was to make it in the band. Yeah, I’ve made some stupid mistakes in my life, even poor choices, I admit. But I’m doing my best here, Liv. I’m trying to keep it real with you.”
He was back to calling me Liv again, and it hurt like a motherfucker. How I wished there were no sleeping bodies in this dank, crowded trailer, because I wanted to blow a gasket. It was hard whisper-screaming through my teeth.
“Yeah, and a month ago, I was one of them,” I snapped.
“No, Liv,” he replied succinctly, “that was no mistake. We were no mistake. I’ve never felt like… I can’t even describe it. It was like my soul found a home. We connected on another level. It wasn’t purely physical either. You fucking know it,” he said, his jaw clenched in anger or frustration, or maybe both.
I stood up and ran my hands through my hair. It was a moment that I wanted to agree with him. I wanted to believe every damn word out of his mouth. I wanted to believe there was nothing between him and Stacie. I wanted him to tell me more. There were so many things I wanted to tell him, like how I really felt inside. Instead, I had to ingest it, twist it up and spill it like it really was: the reality of some fucked-up drama–a tabloid cliché.
I was determined not to end up like my mother; some washed up rocker chick chasing dreams of the past, and allowing hate to boil in her veins. I wasn’t naive enough to think that if the band hit it big, that Emmett would have even more women at his disposal. High-class women. Not like Stacie or the other groupies. Probably a different one every night.
As much as Stacie bugged the hell out of me, she was the one who’d be brushed aside with a screaming baby, while her rock star baby daddy would be getting his Rocky sucked by every high-dollar socialite in every city we’d play.
Not the father? Was that even true? First I’d heard of it, and how convenient Emmett decided to share this tidbit with me and not the others. Just another manwhore hoping for a miracle.
Visions of us in that run-down motel room really spelled it out for me now. How stupid could I have been? I was just another notch on Emmett’s motel bedpost. Maybe I’d just been a bet between him and the rest of the guys. But I couldn’t really see Coop or even Ace for that matter playing along, the others I didn’t know well enough to assess.
“Look, Emmett. I fucked up. It was just all the excitement of getting a record label, nothing more. I hope you do make it big, for all of us. Who knows? You might be able to put your special brand on girls’ asses all over the country, huh?”
“Brand? What the hell does that mean?”
“Oh come on! Making Stacie get that tattoo on her ass? No thanks, I will not be part of the Rocky Horny fan club.”
“Hold up here. I don’t know shit about any tattoo Stacie has, and if she does, I sure as hell didn’t put it there. This is all whack,” he snarled.
He looked serious. How would he not know
? I was about to explore the issue further when I heard my mother call out from the next room.
“Olivia? Olivia!” she screamed. A moment later Emmie was startled awake and started to cry.
“Listen Emmett, I gotta go. What happened was a huge mistake. Let’s move on. Let’s keep it all professional, and now excuse me, I’m needed,” I said. “There’s the door.” I turned my back and headed down the hallway to check on Mom.
The following day I called Coop to see if he would meet me after work. I so hated my part-time job, but for now it would have to do. At least the manager was cool about giving me the time off for when we went to Chicago for a week to record.
I didn’t want to meet him at the garage. I actually wanted to be alone with him. At the garage, there was always the chance one of the other band members would drop in to practice solo. I wanted him to listen to a song I wrote. I planned to play it acoustic style. Though the lyrics were heartfelt, I wasn’t sure about putting the music together. I knew that Coop was the best at arrangement.
I was debating ballad or heavy rock, and I trusted his judgment. So, I asked him to meet me after my shift. There was a vacant room right outside the office, which I thought we could use. There was no way I’d ask him to meet me at Mom’s place.
I saw him pull up and waved him inside the office. “Hey, Coop. Thanks for taking the time to meet me.”
“No problem, Liv. We need to get this album filled. I was glad when you called.” He smiled, and I felt a bit at peace. There was just something about Coop that put me at ease, maybe that’s what it felt like to have a brother.
“Well, like I said,” I continued, “it’s probably not as good as your stuff.”
Just then the night clerk came in to relieve me. I grabbed the key to the vacant room. “I hope you don’t mind. Our rooms aren’t exactly five-star,” I laughed.
“Hey, maybe someday we’ll be there,” he said. I handed him my guitar as I unlocked the room. It was dark and cool inside but still smelled like bed-bug spray and moth-balls.
“Sorry for the stench. Better to have a bad smell than bugs,” I laughed, trying to break the ice.
“Hey, had my share when we were doing gigs. I don’t even smell it anymore.”
I settled on the edge of the bed and tuned my guitar before starting. Coop sat in a chair in the corner.
“Let’s hear what you got,” he said and smiled.
“Okay, here goes.”
You were never like the other ones.
Your lust for life would come and go.
Sometimes good, sometimes bad.
Who you were, I will never know.
When I was young, you were my hero.
We’d play at night and sleep the day away.
I miss who you used to be.
And all I ask is for you to stay.
We were all we had, together you and me.
You were different, but I didn’t care.
A free spirit who was misunderstood,
With your wild eyes, and golden hair.
But as I grew, you did not.
And it’s sad to be so far away.
But I’ve never left. I’m still right here.
But you keep slipping away.
Slipping away, further each day.
Come back to me. Come back to me.
Slipping away, further each day.
Come back to me, Come back to me.
As I sang the rest of the song, Coop shook his head with approval. He grinned big; I could tell he liked what he heard.
I hoped.
“Liv, it’s….”
“I know, I know, it needs work. But…”
“No man, it’s fucking great! May I ask the inspiration?”
That’s how it was with us musicians. Every song was fed and fueled by hurt or happiness, and sadly, this was both.
“It’s about my mom and me. She’s mentally ill, and this is exactly how I feel.”
“Wow. That must be tough,” Coop said, and the understanding in his voice was a breath of fresh air.
“Yeah, and if it wasn’t for you and the band, I wouldn’t have much else. I wanna thank you, Coop…for taking a chance on me.”
“Liv, you’re one talented chick,” he said. “We got lucky when I found you.”
It was quiet for a moment, and I smiled shyly. I don’t know why. I guess I’ve never had many compliments. I didn’t know how to accept them.
“So, the sound, I was thinking something like 4 Non-Blondes…What’s up.”
“Exactly what I was thinking. You definitely have the voice for it. It’s on the album. I’ll let the other guys know. We can start practicing harmony. I love it, Liv.”
Chapter 24
Emmett
I was changing the baby, and once again, Stacie had a quick errand to run in my truck the minute I’d crossed the threshold. She always seemed to time her errands whenever there was a shitty diaper to change, I noticed.
“Damn baby girl,” I said, looking at Emmie as I cleaned her bottom up, “you outdid yourself this time.” And then she did something for the first time. She smiled at me. Not a gassy smile, but a real smile and she tossed a couple of leg kicks in for good measure. “Aww, I bet you feel better having a clean bottom, huh? Yeah, Daddy’s girl is all kweened up.”
Did I just baby talk?
I taped the toxic disposable diaper up and shoved it into the Diaper Genie my stepmother had bought for us. It sure as hell made better sense than having to run it down to the mobile park dumpster every time she crapped.
I snapped up her jammies, and headed toward the kitchen to get a bottle warmed up just as Stacie came through the door. “Perfect timing as always I see,” I muttered.
It was a perfect time to ask Stacie about this tattoo bullshit stuff Olivia had spewed at me the other day. I turned around to glare at her and start the convo.
Before I could, she gave a wicked little laugh, and immediately spoke. “You’ll never guess who I saw coming out of a room at the Motel 6--together,” she emphasized the last word.
I handed Emmie over to her while I grabbed a bottle from the fridge. I actually didn’t give a damn. I wanted to get to the bottom of ‘Rocky-Gate,’ but it was obvious Stacie was itching to share it with me. “I give up. Who did you see coming out of a room at the Motel 6?”
“Cooper!” she announced, “and he wasn’t alone. He was with Olivia.”
I bristled at this piece of information, but I wasn’t about to give Stacie the satisfaction of seeing a reaction. “So?” I replied, “Olivia does work there, remember?”
She gave an exasperated sigh, “Yeah, but does Coop?” she asked sarcastically. “Besides that, I didn’t see a cleaning cart in sight. Doubt very much that she was performing maid service if you catch my drift.”
I handed her the warmed bottle of formula. “Feed your baby,” I replied, “and whatever your drift happens to be, tell me how it affects me?”
I stood there, my hands on my hips, waiting for Stacie to spit it out. I knew she was just dying to put a poison dart out.
“Just sayin’, looks like your best friend is moving in on your female band member. Don’t you think that’s a bit risky? I mean if it doesn’t work out with them, how would that affect Wasted? You could be out of a vocalist. One thing my daddy always said was not to mix business with pleasure. Gonna have to ask my BFF what the deal is. I’ll keep you posted, Emmett.”
“It’s none of my fucking business,” I snapped, heading down the hallway towards my room. “And it’s none of your damn business either, Stacie.” I slammed my bedroom door behind me.
Fuck Coop.
Fuck Olivia.
The following afternoon at practice, I kept to myself. I watched the interaction between Coop and Liv, and nothing seemed different. Maybe they were keeping it on the down low. Or maybe Stacie was playing another one of her head games she loved to play.
Stacie was a big-time shit stirrer at every opportunity.
We practiced all of the tunes that were going on the album. We still needed another one, and I’d been working on some lyrics at home whenever I wasn’t on baby duty. I hoped to have the lyrics finished by the weekend so I could pivot them over to Coop to help with the music.
Liv and I pretty much ignored one another at practice, neither of us making eye contact, even when singing the numbers we did together. One of our longer tunes was primarily instrumental with each of us doing a brief solo on our respective instruments, with limited lyrics. She sat out on that one and I noticed she grabbed her cell and stepped out of the garage to apparently make a call or maybe send a text.
A text to whom, I wondered, totally fucking up the chords on my solo portion. “Hold up!” I hollered, “Let’s take five, guys.”
Nobody objected, putting down their instruments, a couple of them heading outside to grab a smoke. I headed over to the fridge in the corner and pulled out a bottled water. I was parched and downed half of the bottle, when Coop approached, and grabbed a soda. He popped the lid and studied me.
“What?” I asked him, wiping my mouth with the back of my sleeve.
“Nothing,” he replied, “It’s just you seem kind of distracted or something today. Is everything okay?” he asked, taking a gulp of his soda.
“Yep. Everything is fine. No problems, it’s all good,” I muttered, taking another swig of water, and I wanted to change the subject just in case I was tempted to flat out accuse my best friend of something he may not have done. “Oh, meant to tell you,” I started, “I’ve got some lyrics almost finished for a new song to complete the album. Wanna get together this weekend and put the music to it? It’s gonna be a power ballad. The lyrics are emotional, but I want to put it to heavy music.”
I waited for Coop to respond, but there was a silent pause where he looked downright uncomfortable. “Hey Emmett,” he said, “we got a song that completes the first album already.”