Authors: Karolyn James
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Family Saga, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sagas
(2)
Mack rode. He went wherever the
road took him. In his heart, he knew where he wanted to go, but tonight wasn't
the night. It would break tradition.
After burning a quarter tank of gas
and seeing how late it was getting, Mack worked his way back to his house. That
perfect townhouse that
she
would have loved. Sometimes when he closed
his eyes he could still hear her
voice. Talking about the simple dreams
of life she wanted. Never anything too big. Mack would have given her anything
in the world. But now all he had was a house. It never became the home it was
meant to be, and maybe it never would. For now, it was just a place to crash
when he wasn't out on the road.
Looking at him, it was easy to see
a man who was big, strong, and mean looking. A rough around the edges biker who
played drums. But under it all, Mack’s heart longed for a home. From the time
he was a kid, he was never given the chance to settle anywhere. It was always
about moving on to the next chapter.
Mack parked the motorcycle and went
inside. He wasn’t shocked to find the house empty considering there were no
cars parked out front or in his driveway like there was when he left. The band
knew his pain on the surface and knew what he needed to go through. That’s why
they meant so much to him. They trusted Mack when he took off on his rides and
they never got anyone else involved. Mack threw his keys on the counter and
kicked off his boots as he looked around. They had cleaned up everything. The
only thing remaining was the guitar he’d been playing. And the bottle of
whiskey. Under it was a piece of paper, a note from Luke and the guys.
All good, Mack. The world is
ours. Drink up. Jam. And get ready for
our
show tomorrow.
Mack curled his hand around the
note and threw it into the music room. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey and
left the guitar. Once upstairs, Mack sat in bed and took the cap off the
whiskey. He smelled it and closed his eyes. He saw
her
. His girl. His
love. His Kelly.
Just thinking her name put the
bottle to his lips. He could still clearly picture her standing in their old,
tiny one bedroom apartment. Kelly never complained once about Mack using their
dining room table for his practice drum kit set up. Instead, she was thrilled
to sit on the floor in the living room and eat take out at the coffee table.
They were the greatest and most romantic meals of his life.
Mack opened his eyes and blinked.
He took a deep breath and drank more whiskey. He closed his eyes again and he
slipped right back into his memories. Kelly was standing at the front door to
the apartment and he was behind his practice kit, warming up his wrists without
a shirt on. Kelly blew him a kiss and then made a comment about his muscles.
Mack made a comment about being naked by the time she came back. Kelly laughed.
Oh, she laughed. A quick laugh, but it was still her laugh.
If he had known that was the last
time he would hear it and if he had know that was the last time she would blow
him a kiss, he would have jumped over the drum set and held her tight in the
most passionate kiss of their lives. But Mack assumed Kelly would be right
back. She always came right back. A trip to the grocery store. Lunch with a
friend. A doctor’s appointment. She always came back…
But not that day.
The door to the apartment shut and
she was gone. It was less than an hour later that his cell rang. He could still
feel the butterflies he felt when he saw Kelly’s name on the screen. But it
wasn’t Kelly on the other end. It was a police officer. And just like that,
Mack's world fell apart.
Mack opened his eyes and looked at
the bottle of whiskey. It was blurry. He put his arm out and put the bottle
down. He reached up to his eye and wiped a tear. When he closed his eyes again,
there was nothing but darkness. The darkness meant he was starting to let go,
even if he was holding on with every ounce of his being. The darkness hurt more
than the memories.
When Mack opened his eyes again, it
was morning. He was still sitting up in bed. And he still had his black boots
on. His neck was stiff like, but it was nice to not be hungover.
Mack swung his feet from the bed
and stood up. He looked to the whiskey bottle and smiled. He left the bedroom
and went downstairs. He found his cell phone on the living room floor. There
were half a dozen missed calls and twice as many texts from the guys looking
for him.
They had a show today. Another
radio spot to promote the album and tour, then a show. This show was important
because Fallen Tuesday was going to be debuting their opening act, Gone By
Autumn. Mack loved the name and he loved the guys in the band. They seemed to
have their act together. They were damn near flawless live. Plus, it didn't
hurt that they already established a cult following. They were going to be
great for the tour.
Mack made coffee and tried to make
eggs but ended up busting the yolks. He stuck with the coffee and then left the
house. He got on his motorcycle and headed toward the sound stage where he knew
everyone would be hanging. The entire ride, he felt the rumble of the
motorcycle and he always felt the rumble of his phone in his pocket. Sometimes
it was annoying to have people care, but sometimes it was a good feeling. There
was a time after Kelly’s death that Mack swore to never touch drums again.
That’s what turned him to learning guitar. Strumming sad chords made him weep.
Connecting those chords into songs and turning his feelings into music was
something powerful.
But it was always about getting
back to the drums. Getting behind the kit and kicking some serious ass, like he
was meant to do.
When he pulled into the back parking,
he spotted the other cars. Frank was outside, phone to his ear, other hand at
his hip with his suit jacket open. The second he saw Mack, he hung up whatever
call he was on. Mack swung the motorcycle around and walked it backward right
next to Frank. He throttled the engine and smiled at Frank's displeased look on
his face. Mack turned the bike off and took off his helmet.
“The drummer returns,” Frank said.
“The drummer never left,” Mack
said.
“Had us worried for a few minutes.”
“Frank, look at me,” Mack said.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I do what I have to do. Just book tour dates
and help us sell albums.”
“It's true that my job description
says that I have to care about you,” Frank said. “But in my heart, Mack, I
truly do care about you guys. Especially you. You don't know much about my past…
but my wife…”
“I’m not doing it,” Mack said. He
stepped off the motorcycle. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m not going down memory lane.
Swapping tragic stories. For what? You want to get on the back of my bike and
go for a beer? You want to be each other's wingman and pick up some women to
take away the sting of the pain?”
Frank swallowed. “I guess I spoke
out of line then. Sorry. The guys are inside. Limo will be here in about an
hour. You guys are going to the radio station to debut Gone By Autumn.”
Mack clamped a hand down on Frank’s
shoulder. “Amazing. Let it be about business. My life is mine and I have the
road to console me.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that I do
give a shit about you guys.”
“You get paid for that.”
“Even if I didn’t…”
Mack smiled. “Don’t give me the
father routine, Frank. It doesn’t work on me. Remember, I never had a mother or
a father, so I don’t know what it’s like or what it means.”
Mack pushed at Frank’s shoulder and
walked away.
When Mack opened the door, Gray and
Jake were standing on the stage, guitars fired up, deep chords ringing out.
Trent leaned against his bass amp, arms crossed. Luke sat with his feet hanging
off the stage and he was holding a notebook in his hand, as always. The guys
were always working on a new song or idea. Their dedication was incredible.
None of them knew it, but Mack had dozens of songs written that he kept to
himself. The lyrics were personal and sad, and he just didn't think the band or
record company would understand and appreciate the music.
Mack slid his bag off his back and
walked to the stage. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched him. They
all looked desperate to ask a question, but Mack headed straight for the drums.
He got behind the kit, stretching his fingers and cracking all his knuckles. He
lifted a pair of drumsticks and started to play. It felt good. His hands and
feet were in perfect coordination. The thunder of the bass drum mixed with the
crash and pings of the cymbals and the extra rhythm of the snare drum, gave
Mack a high that was just as good as the open road.
He finished his makeshift drum solo
and put the sticks down. He ran a hand across his face. His four bandmates -
his four brothers - were all standing and staring at him.
“I’m not talking about it,” Mack
said. “I went out. I came home. I went to bed. Now I’m here. If you guys…”
Jake hit a chord. The guitar echoed
throughout the entire soundstage. Jake hit the same chord again and Gray did
the same. The sound was heavier. When Trent came in with the bass, Mack's
throat tightened a little. This was the band’s way of giving him a hug. Luke
smiled and nodded, turning to the microphone.
The band went into a set of four random
songs that ended with Mack standing during the last chorus. He stopped playing
and dropped the sticks. The band continued to play without him. Mack took the
time to walk to give each guy a quick punch to the arm. That was the equivalent
of a hug from Mack. It was time to be rockstars. He would have to put the
business face on for today. But in the back of Mack’s mind, he knew he was just
one day away from that horrible date. The last time he saw her alive. The day he
didn't get out from behind the damn drum set and give her one more kiss.
The next couple hours went by fast.
Mack welcomed it. The second they pulled into the parking lot of the radio
station, they were swarmed by fans. It turned out the driver had turned into
the wrong part of the parking lot. He apologized, but it didn’t really matter
to the band. Mack looked at the guys and gave a nod. They opened the limo doors
and climbed out.
It was chaos. Beautiful chaos. Fans
were jumping and screaming and charging to get their chance to touch someone
from the band. Fallen Tuesday took it in stride, grabbing markers, shirts,
CD’s, posters, papers. Anything that needed to get signed was signed the best
they could manage. When Frank appeared at the backdoor to the radio station,
his face was red and he was shouting orders at security.
Mack’s shoulders were as wide as
the guys who came to help the band. He simply just walked and let the fans do
as they may. A woman lunged at Mack, wrapping her arms around his neck and
kissing his cheek over and over.
“Hey, take it easy,” he said,
smiling at the woman.
“I love you. I want to marry you.”
It wasn’t the first time Mack heard
it. He put the woman back to her feet and hugged her. Two other women were
there to hug him and grab at him. Mack had to gently pull away. He put his hand
out and kept walking. He was the last one to the door where the band waited.
“They love the big guy,” Luke said
with a laugh.
“That’s because they know my
muscles aren’t the only big thing I have,” Mack said.
“Whoa,” Jake said.
Everyone laughed and the door shut
behind them.
They went up to the radio station
and were taken to a room to relax. Some of the station's employees lingered out
in the hall, obviously trying to decide whether they should approach the band
or not. Luke stuck his head out and offered them pictures and autographs and invited
everyone into the room to hang out and enjoy the array of food that was
provided for them. Some squealed with excitement, some cheered and gave each
other high-fives, and two girls actually started crying.
A little while later, Gone By
Autumn showed up. They had a gleam in their eyes as they stepped into the room.
“It’s insane down there,” Ryan
said. “That’s a lot of people.”
“Some of them were actually here
for us, man,” Gabe said. “They were wearing our shirts and shit.”
“It’ll all be for you soon,” Mack
said.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Frank said
as he waved his hands. The room fell silent. “We’re going to go into the studio
and talk. Fallen Tuesday will introduce Gone By Autumn and let them play a song
or two. Then they’re off to open the set outside.”
“Got it,” Luke yelled. “Just tell
us where to be and what to do.”
“Hey, what kind of station is
this?” Gray asked. “Are we going to get asked…”
“No,” Frank said. “This is strictly
about the album and tour.”
Mack looked over at Gone By Autumn
as they hung out in the corner. He walked over to Blake, and grabbed him by the
shoulder.
“Want my advice, drummer to
drummer? Don’t let your shit get out to the public,” Mack said. “But it’s bound
to happen. So be ready to deal with it.”
Mack turned and spotted a cooler
full of ice. There was water, soda, and beer. He went and opened a beer. The
rest of Fallen Tuesday did the same and once everyone cleared the room, they toasted
each other. They were then off to the studio to talk about their upcoming tour
and album and bring Gone By Autumn into the studio.
Impressively, the band handled
themselves like pros. They answered the questions without hesitation and they
all took turns talking. It was obvious that Ryan was a born lead singer. Then
the band picked up their guitars and introduced their first song. Five guys
with five guitars. Mack wondered if the presence of Fallen Tuesday would add to
the pressure, but it didn’t.
Gone By Autumn was good.