Hard As Rock (27 page)

“Oh. Well… I’m sure it’ll be okay…”

“No, because she’s probably going to divorce him.”

“Oh.”

“But that’s not even the thing that upsets me,” I sniffled. “He was really, really mean to me just now.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered into his chest. “But I want to leave.”

He pulled back and looked at me in bewilderment. “Now?”

“No… tomorrow. I want to leave tomorrow morning.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you should just stick around…”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’ll come around.”

“Not likely.”

“What about your mom and brothers?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my chest filling with guilt. “I don’t know. All I know is I just need to get out. I can’t deal with it. I don’t
want
to deal with it. Not now. Can we please leave tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want. If I only get to spend a little bit of time with you before everything blows up, then I want to spend it with just you and me.”

He knew exactly what I was talking about: when Derek got back from rehab. When that happened, Bigger was done for, and everything was going to hell. I was sure of it. In fact, I had never been more sure of anything else in my life.

“Okay,” he whispered as he held me close to his chest.

Ryan and I slept in separate beds. My mother wouldn’t have minded at all if we slept together, but my father would have – and Ryan was intensely uncomfortable with doing anything to piss him off. So I slept in my old bedroom. Tim volunteered his bed to Ryan, who took it only after much protesting.

We got up the next morning and broke the news at breakfast. Ryan took the hit, saying that he had gotten a call late last night and had to get back to Athens on urgent band business. He apologized profusely.

I said I wanted to go with him to support him. I gave a pretty convincing performance.

Rob and Tim were crushed – about Ryan leaving. Me, they couldn’t have cared less about.

Mom was disappointed, too, but she took it in stride. Though I was pretty sure she knew I was lying.

My dad
definitely
knew I was lying. He was close-lipped at breakfast, but he cornered me when I was alone in my room packing.

“You know, you don’t
have
to leave,” he said. His voice was much nicer than the one he’d used in the study last night, but there was an undercurrent of resentment. A kind of passive-aggressiveness.

“I want to be there for Ryan.”

“I don’t believe this is about Ryan.”

“Believe what you want,” I said, focusing on my suitcase as I continued to pack.

“Kaitlyn.”

“What,” I said, still not looking at him.

“I’m sorry for the way I reacted last night.”

I looked up, stunned – and hopeful. My father hadn’t ever apologized to me about anything my entire life. Maybe this was him turning over a new leaf; maybe this was him coming around!

“But you really shouldn’t have said those things,” he continued, his voice now chiding me.

My stomach clenched in anger. I was pissed.

But there was another reaction I was having, too. Like déjà vu.

His tone seemed really,
really
familiar…

“I was just trying to talk to you,” I said angrily.

“I understand that,” he said softly – and then slipped in the knife right afterwards. “But that’s your mother’s and my business, not yours.”

“It’s the entire
family’s
business, Dad,” I snarled. “We all went through it, not just you.”

“Okay, okay,” he said gently, placating me.

I relaxed the tiniest bit.

“…but you don’t understand because you’re not married,” he said condescendingly. “You just don’t understand what a married couple goes through.”

And then it hit me:

Kevin.

He sounded like my high school boyfriend – the one I had cheated on with Derek.

It was the
I’m sorry
voice followed by
But you were the one at fault
.  The immaturity and anger of last night, then an apology that wasn’t really an apology, but a wheedling attempt to still get his way and show you that
you
were the one in the wrong.

Realizing that was a shock to my system. I stood there with my mouth gaping wide.

He apparently took that as some kind of sign that I had come around to his way of thinking, and it made him much more pleasant. “You’re young – but you’ll get married one day, and you’ll see that there are things that happen in a marriage that don’t make sense to someone who hasn’t experienced a long-term relationship yet.”

That condescending tone was like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Fingernails on a chalkboard make me want to scream.

“I think I heard somewhere that in long-term relationships, you need to forgive people,” I shot back. “Or at least not lie and say you will, and then punish them for the next twelve years.”

BAM. That had the desired effect: his face suddenly became a mask of rage. “I cannot
believe
we are fighting about this again, when you clearly don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Underneath my anger, I got an eerie little chill. Like I had heard something very much like that before.

But not from Kevin.

“You can say I don’t know what I’m talking about all day long, but I’m not the one who lied and said I forgave somebody when I clearly didn’t,” I spat.

“That’s between me and your mother! Why are you even angry about that?”

“I’m not!”

“Oh,” he sneered, “what exactly are you angry about
this
time, then?”

Again, déjà vu.

“I’m angry that you can’t even talk about it like an adult without you losing your temper and treating me like I’m five years old!”

Suddenly he switched gears. His face relaxed, and he reached out and put his hands on my arms.

“Kaitlyn,” he said, his voice soothing. “I’m just not very good at conflict. Your mother and I don’t fight because of that.”

And look where that’s gotten you,
I wanted to say, but he seemed to be trying to apologize – or something – so I let him continue.

“You and I just haven’t been around each other much lately, so this is normal. We’re rubbing up against each other’s edges, raising each other’s hackles. No wonder things got heated. It’s nobody’s fault.”

Again, that eerie sense of having heard all this before –

And suddenly it clicked.

Derek.

He sounded like Derek.

The whole
What are you angry about THIS time?
crack was like when Derek had yelled at me when I called him out about ogling other women.

Now my father was using the same fake niceness – the same
It’s not your fault OR my fault, we just need space, no wonder we’re fighting
tactic
–
 that Derek had used in Vegas, right before he went out and cheated on me.

The floor felt like it was dropping out from under me.

First my dad had channeled Kevin’s condescension and passive-aggressive bullshit. Then he’d swung over to Derek’s
What’s wrong with you?
blaming and fake-ass apologies. Not to mention he’d displayed the thing both my exes shared in common: a temper they couldn’t control.

But my father had come first. He had been in my life long before I had met either Kevin
or
Derek.

I’m no psychology PhD, but it was pretty fucking clear in that moment that the shit I had learned to put up with from men had its roots in my relationship with the first man in my life.

We hear stuff like that all the time, but it’s an intellectual belief, not a gut-level
knowing.
The first time you’re presented with those facts in an obvious, inescapable way, let me tell you – it’s a mindfuck.

I stepped back from him, shocked and horrified – and suddenly realizing that I wasn’t going to win this battle. I wasn’t even sure I could fight it right now.

“I have to go,” I said, zipping up my suitcase.

“Kaitlyn,” he snapped, reverting back to the temper.

“We have to get back to Athens,” I said numbly as I dragged my suitcase along behind me, out my bedroom door and down the hall.

“Kaitlyn! Don’t you walk out on me! DON’T YOU
DARE
WALK OUT ON ME!” he yelled.

I remembered someone else screaming at me in the rain in much the same tone of voice.

You walked out on ME, Kaitlyn! YOU WALKED OUT ON ME!

I walked out on my father, and this time I didn’t feel one tiny bit bad.

We left under a dark cloud. My mom and brothers were great; it was my dad that was the problem. He was cold and distant the entire time.

On the other hand, my mom was a total sweetheart. “Come see us again soon as you can,” she said as she gave Ryan a hug.

Tim and Rob tried to be cool, but that only lasted for about 30 seconds. Then they were begging for one last selfie with Ryan before we hit the road.

While the boys were busy, Mom came over and got me alone. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you, too.”

“Is everything okay?”

“It’ll be fine.”

“If it’s your father, don’t mind him – ”

“It’s fine, Mom. Seriously, it will be okay.”

She gave me a long, searching look, then finished with a hug. “Don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t,” I said – and meant it.

Before we left, I hugged my father, and Ryan shook his hand. It was awkward – more like keeping up appearances than anything else. But then it was over, and we were off.

Tim drove us to the nearest rental car place, and he and Rob helped us get our bags out of the trunk.

“Hey, not to be pushy – ” Rob started.

“But you’re going to be anyway,” I interrupted.

He ignored me. “ – but could we get tickets to your next show?”

Ryan hesitated. “Um – sure – but it might take awhile. We’ll be recording our next album for months, and I don’t know when we’re going on tour next.”

I knew he was thinking about whether the band would even be together for one more performance, let alone a tour.

Tim picked up on the hesitance in Ryan’s voice, though he couldn’t know the reason. “Don’t bug him,” he told Rob.

“I was just asking,” Rob said petulantly.

“Quit asking,” I snapped, which got me a nasty look.

Ryan laughed at our bickering. “How about this – once the band starts recording and everybody has gotten back into a routine, I’ll have you guys come up and sit in on a session. How does that sound?”

My brothers stared at him in awe.

“You serious?” Tim asked.

“Holy shit, that’s awesome!” Rob exclaimed.

“Ryan,” I said, a bit of warning in my voice. He’d already been nice to my brothers way beyond what was called for – and now he was writing a check he might not be able to cash.

“It’s cool,” he said, and winked at me. “We’ll work it out.”

When my brothers finally drove off, I think it was the happiest I’ve ever seen them in their lives.

“That was nice of you,” I said to Ryan as we walked inside the rental place.

“Whatever I can do.”

“You’re not worried that – well, you know…”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

He sounded calm and unconcerned.

Maybe he really DOESN’T care if the band breaks up.

I didn’t like thinking about it, though, so I let the topic drop.

Ryan rented an SUV, the best the rental agency had. It was really nice – very comfortable, super plush. But I would be lying if I didn’t say that I was a little nostalgic for a powder blue 1969 Mercedes convertible. The SUV seemed ordinary by comparison. In fact, the whole experience was ho-hum and totally non-rock-star-ish. We stood in a line, Ryan paid by credit card, and then we were off. No one even recognized him at the register. No drama, no issues.

Responsible. Real-world. What ordinary people do.

But I knew it wasn’t an experience I would remember for the rest of my life.

We got into Athens about four hours later and drove into the gated community where Ryan lived. His two-story house was extremely nice, though understated from the front. In the expansive backyard was a pool, a hot tub, and a goldfish pond, all situated amongst a beautifully manicured jungle of flowering plants and fruit trees. A barrier of closely-spaced firs ringed the yard, shutting off all visual contact with the neighbors.

“What are you going to do about the rental car?” I asked.

“We’ll return it tomorrow.”

Inside the house, family photographs and pieces of artwork hung on the walls. Just like South Dakota, a grand piano sat in the middle of the house, and there was a massive studio filled with guitars, computers, and speakers. Ryan showed me to the upstairs master bedroom, where I unpacked my bags in a closet that was bigger than my New York apartment.

Ryan had called his part-time housekeeper while we were on the road, and she had stocked the refrigerator with food. We sat down to a late lunch of filet mignon and asparagus he grilled out on the patio, along with a bottle from his wine cellar.

As we ate, I was a little uneasy. Now that I was finally in his house, it was all…
real.
The entire situation.

I had just moved in with him.

Holy shit.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I lied, then realized I needed to come up with some sort of excuse for my fidgetiness. “I just… I was wondering how it’s all going to go with the rest of the band.”

“We’ll probably start finding out pretty soon.”

We did.

Riley was the first. She showed up the next afternoon in typical Riley fashion: drunk and smelling like she hadn’t bathed in ten days.

From where I was upstairs, I heard Ryan answer the door. My heart froze in my chest; I half expected to hear a deep, booming voice start cursing at him.

Instead, it was a slurred teenage girl’s.

“What up, fucker?”

“Riley!” There was a pause, during which I assumed hugs were being exchanged. Then – “You smell like a brewery.”