Louder Than Love (23 page)

“I saw them here and there. Our lawyers met. We dissolved everything. But there wasn’t much. Wren’s dirty dealings and ‘back commissions’ we owed him were just the tip of the iceberg. Yes, he made a lot happen for us. But he made a lot more happen for himself. For years he was making deals behind our backs that weren’t exactly in keeping with his contract, but there was just enough of a loophole for him to squeak through. And we hadn’t solicited enough legal advisement to catch it. Luckily, the song publishing and our back catalog remained ours, or I’d be living in a paper bag right now. The bastard had copyrighted our name
himself
, not on behalf of us as we had originally assumed. So even if we ever wanted to reconcile, he’d be able to sue us if we tried to use the name.”

“You’re kidding. Why would he do such a thing?”

“Well, remember his whole ‘success formula’ he sold us over that game of pool?”

“Developing a band and a brand?”

“Yeah. I think he had imagined churning out a metal Menudo of sorts; replacing each of us after we burned out with an equally young and angry, hungry musician. Almost two decades later and I still wouldn’t put it past him.”

“And Simone . . . do you think she left?”

“Whether she did or didn’t . . . I’d like to think she’s happier now, somewhere out there.”

“Did Sam stay in touch with them? And where’s Adam?”

“Sam was always my mate, not Rick’s. He’s enjoying life as a session musician in LA. I doubt they’ve maintained a friendship. I’d be highly surprised. Adam? London. Kind of a nutter, became born-again after Cass. Harmless enough, I suppose. Met a girl in the flock and settled down. I think he’s wiped most of Corpse’s sins from his mind . . . and the blood from his hands.” He sighed. “We were gods . . . but no one has the right to be that almighty. To think nothing and nobody could stop us. That was our fatal flaw.”

With his eyes still skyward, he put a finger to his lips, tapping them yet pointing at something simultaneously. My eyes fell upon a poster ripped from the pages of a rock magazine, hanging in the corner. A decades-younger Adrian, chiseled arms clamped around his childhood chum. A heavily silver-ringed finger of Rick’s pushed against his friend’s nose, flattening it for comic effect. Both man-boys mugged pouts and grimaces for the lens.

“I’ll do my best to find him . . . if you want me to.”

Adrian assumed the same exaggerated pout he had pulled for the camera years ago. “My supersleuth,” he said softly, beeping my nose flat with his finger. “Thank you.”

“Information scientist,” I corrected, with a kiss to his finger. “Your supersleuth is downstairs with Maxwell MacGillikitty. You’ll catch the last five minutes if you hurry.”

“Come on then.” He pulled at my hands with a smile. “I’m not leaving you up here alone with the boogeymen!”

***

Adrian’s mood had lightened considerably by the time we arrived at Marissa’s. We could smell the festivities as we pulled up; steaks over apple wood chips and Kahlua-brushed salmon, one of Rob’s specialties. My entire posse was gathered on the lawn like the Welcome Wagon. Or perhaps they were circling the wagons in preparation for attack. I hoped not; Adrian had been through enough that day.

“Hey!” Rob greeted us with his customary broad smile. He wore an apron that read
GRILL SERGEANT
over his usual tie-dye. “Nice to finally meet you, man.” Adrian accepted Rob’s non-spatula hand and they half shook, half slapped in a manly guy way.

“It’s about freakin’ time!”

“Sorry, Mariss. Naptime ran long.”

Adrian kissed her on both cheeks. “Nice to see you again, Marissa.” From anyone else, she would’ve considered the action as pretentious as air-kissing, but I could tell from Adrian, she didn’t mind one bit.

“Naptime? Yours or Abbey’s?” Leanna laughed devilishly. She had what looked and smelled like a strong Jack and Coke in her hand. Ed was nowhere to be seen, which didn’t surprise me. He rarely accompanied her to social functions, and she barely seemed to care.

“Hello, Miss Abbeycadabra,” Liz greeted Abbey, giving her a high five. “Brought you something.” She pulled a kid-sized cap from her bag and plopped it on Abbey’s head.

“Awesome!” It had a glittery skull with a sequined pink bow on top; happy girly skulls were a favorite. “Thanks, Aunt Lizzie!” Abbey left me to protect it as she galloped toward the splashing and laughter coming from the aboveground pool in the backyard, leaving a trail of clothes in her wake as she stripped down to her suit. Sarah, the Falzones’ babysitter, was waist-high in the water and throwing diving sticks for Joey, Brina, and Dylan to fetch.

“Hellooo!” Karen ambled up, huge salad bowl in her hands. Mitch, with a swim diaper–clad Jasper wiggling in his arms, managed to shake hands with Adrian as I made the last of the introductions.

“Come on, ladies. I’m gonna put you to work.” Marissa tilted her head toward the house.

“I’ll keep Rob company out here,” Adrian said, accepting the beer Rob offered with thanks.

“Eeek, Tree, he is so adorable,” Marissa said as soon as we were in the kitchen door and out of earshot. “Cuter than I remember!” She began to pull fruit from all corners of the kitchen. “Le, grab that big bowl over there for fruit salad. Seriously, girl, he’s a keeper.”

“Thanks.” I winced as Leanna whacked a pineapple in half. She had all of the fury and none of the humor that John Belushi conveyed in his TV role as a Samurai chef.

“Someone needs to get on building that cloning machine,” Liz murmured.

“I could close my eyes,” Karen said with a sigh, “and listen to that accent forever.”

Leanna hacked into the poor kiwis next. “My next husband is going to be sweet like that.” She ticked off a few other qualities, as if she were talking about the next car model she was going to buy.

“Leanna!”

“I wish Ed would develop a prostitute fetish or gamble our life savings away . . . something to give me a clear sign,” she joked sardonically, pausing her fruit genocide to take a long haul of her drink.

“Bite your tongue!” I wanted nothing more than happiness for her, but wished she would take charge like the Leanna of old. “And hand over that knife. You’re making me nervous.”

***

“Think we can get the kids to clean up?” Marissa leaned back with a glass of wine. We were lounging around in a post-glut state watching the little ones chase Lickety, Split, and the Frisbee the dogs had gleefully absconded with. Every now and again, a child would whiz by the table for a bite of a ketchup-smeared hot dog or a sip of lemonade before taking off again.

“You sit, chicky. We’ll do it.” Liz, even buzzing on several beers, could swiftly and expertly bus a table. Adrian and I gathered the mountain of empties and took them around the side of the house to the recycling bin.

“How am I doing?” Adrian kissed me behind the lilac tree.

“You haven’t run screaming from the premises, so I’d say you’re doing great.”

“Go on. Your friends are nice.”

I hooked my thumbs through the loops on his cargo shorts and pulled him close.

“Get a hotel room, you two.” Liz had popped around the corner. “Smoke time?” She grinned sheepishly.

“Are you enabling her, Adrian?” I scolded. Liz was the type of ex-smoker who fell off the wagon at the prospect of having a drink in her hand and a butt in the other. Yet she hated the smell of cigarettes, so she would wash her hands with OCD frequency and chew wads of gum guiltily afterward. Why she tortured herself was beyond me.

“Apparently. Looks like I’ve created a monster.” Adrian kissed me on the cheek as he fished out a fresh pack of Marlboros from a pocket. Liz grinned, guilty as charged.

I brought the last of the dishes inside. Marissa was stashing the leftovers in the fridge between gulps of wine. “Sarah started a movie for the kids upstairs. You guys are going to stay awhile, right? I sent Robbie down to the beach to get a bonfire going.” She saw me sneak a glance at the clock. “You’re not thinking of taking him back to the train tonight, are you? Abbey can sleep here, you know that.”

“I know. Thanks. We’ll see.”

“Come on, you’ll have to get over the flatulence and morning breath thing eventually, just bite the bullet!”

“Funny, Mariss. I just don’t know if Abbey is ready.” I thought about Abbey’s early morning tear-in-and-leap and whether I wanted to subject Adrian to that yet. “Or if he is, for that matter.”

“For Christ’s sake, we could make it one big pajama party so everyone sleeps over and no one feels funny. He’s great, Tree. Really. I love how he took your hand at the table after dinner. And how cute was that when he started playing soccer with the kids?” We took a new bottle of wine out onto the deck. “Think we seem like dumb boring Americans to him?”

“Oh, come on. He was psyched to come and meet everyone. I’m always talking about you guys.”

“Check that out.” She nodded toward the far corner of the yard, where Adrian, Liz, and Mitch were all puffing away, laughing and talking.

“Mr. Health Nut, sneaking a smoke while his wife is inside changing diapers?”

“Yeah, let’s go bust his balls.”

We strolled across the lawn. Liz was folding a piece of gum into her mouth and giggling.

“H&H blows.”

“You’re on, Big Red,” Mitch said, crushing the cigarette under his Tevas. “We’ll have a bagel challenge.”

Liz gave a sloppy laugh. “He keeps calling me Big Red,” she told us. “Isn’t that funny? You know, because I’m chewing Big Red. And I have red hair.” Liz was rather tall and somewhat big-boned, but not overweight. She enjoyed her bagels and beer, and would never have a yoga and tofu-toned body like Karen.

I could tell Marissa took offense. She has no problem calling herself big, or calling her friends out when it comes to looks, but heaven help the outsider who comments on them. “Is that
not
hilarious, Tree?”

“Hmm. Indeed. Since when do you smoke, Mitch?”

“
And
he’s gonna eat some carbs,” Liz said in mock horror. “Adrian’s my witness, right?”

“What will we learn next? That you were piloting the
Exxon Valdez
?”

Mitch smirked. “I’m not the choirboy you think I am, Mariss.”

His wife was waving from the deck, no Jasper to be seen. Karen was pretty in a sharp way. Her face, rounded in pregnancy when I met her, had resumed a more angular shape after giving birth. Her cheekbones glowed under the dim light of the colored lanterns hanging overhead.

“Better give him some sugar, Big Red. Karen’s gonna smell him from a yard away. Come on, I need your help inside.” Mitch took the gum Liz offered and then let his eyes linger a bit too long on her backside as she followed Marissa back to the house.

“Adrian’s been telling me about your bike rides, Tree. We should all go sometime.” He put his arm around Karen as she walked up. “Adrian and Tree have been biking with Abbey at Bear Mountain. Wouldn’t that be great to do, too, honey?”

“Oh, absolutely. We just got the Chariot Trailer for Jasper.”

“What’s the farthest distance you’ve ever biked?” Mitch asked Adrian.

“I did the Five Boro Bike Tour last year with a mate of mine. That was forty miles. It was a bit of a cock-up with thirty thousand other cyclists, but it was fun.”

“Wow, forty miles. And you
smoke
?” Mitch was incredulous.

“Cut down from three packs a day when I started riding,” Adrian admitted. “I’m at about a half pack a day . . . less when I’m with Kat and Abbey.” His fingers played with the strap of my dress and he smiled. “Abbey tells me I smell like her Uncle Kev.”

“What!”

He laughed at my mortified look. “I’m glad she told me. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone around to smell me.”

“Bonfire time!” Marissa bellowed from the deck. She and Liz led the procession through the side yard and down to the lake. Leanna trailed behind, carrying her bottle of Jack by the neck like a cocky rock star. Karen and Mitch went inside to check on Jasper’s mood with the sitter before following.

“You know,” I started, reaching for Adrian’s hand as we navigated the sandy path, “Kev actually started smoking because of Digger.” Adrian and I often referred to his stage name in the third person as if, indeed, it was a third person in the room; like a mythical, larger-than-life character. It was Adrian’s turn to look mortified. “I didn’t mean that as an accusation,” I hastily added. “Just a weird . . . I don’t know. Ironic coincidence?”

“Well, if I ever meet him, I will apologize.” We walked in silence toward the tiny beacon of light that was Rob’s bonfire. He had set up a spot far from any of the pines or houses.

“So who is this bloke called Todd? Leanna and Liz were talking about him like he’s the life of the party. When is he coming?”

I stopped short. “TOD? Oh, no no no. TOD is not a person. TOD is pure evil.” Rob had a raging fire going, and Leanna was spreading out blankets and beach towels around it. There was a cooler of beverages and, sitting on Liz’s lap, the dreaded TOD. “Later, guys. Thanks for the lovely evening.” I grabbed Adrian’s hand. “You are not subjecting him to that. No way.”

Adrian seemed amused by the amount of cajoling and convincing the girls launched into. “Tree, it’s harmless fun. Come on! It will be a good way to get to know Adrian, and for him to get to know us,” Marissa wheedled.

“For example,” Leanna said, grabbing the notebook from Liz’s lap, “Adrian, read page twenty-three.”

Despite my protests, Adrian tilted the battered book toward the light of the fire and followed Leanna’s finger across the page. “‘Marissa to Tree—Truth: Did you spit or swallow with Kurt O’Toole? Tree takes Dare, pees in the kitty litter box.’ What is this?”

“It’s a game we played in high school. A jacked-up version of Truth or Dare,” I said. “All recorded in the book for posterity.” I had half a mind to grab it from his hands and toss it into the flames.

“You peed in a cat litter box?”

“Giving a whole new meaning to the nickname you gave her. Mittens was so pissed at you, Tree.” Marissa and the others dissolved into hysterics.

“If you don’t answer the question, you have to take the dare, whatever it is,” Marissa explained.