Never Say Never (16 page)

            Just as I thought of
him, the phone rang: Kyle was calling. “What?” I was still angry about last
night.

            “Look, I know you
don't want to be disturbed, but Steve and Luc called me to tell me you didn't
come back home last night. Are you okay?” His voice turned bitter. “Are you
with your lover?” He sighed. “Just let me know you're okay and I'll hang up.”

            I sighed. Kyle was
being clingier than normal. “It's seven in the morning and I told you I needed
my sleep. What's wrong with you? Of course I'm okay.”

            “You don't sound
okay,” Kyle said. “You sound like you've been crying.”

           
Crap.
I should
be furious with Kyle – he knew that – but I was so heartbroken by what had
happened with Danny that I couldn't bring myself to be mad. Before I could stop
myself I blurted it out. “We broke up, okay?”
            “So your casual and meaningless relationship...not so casual, huh?”
Kyle was straining on the other end of the line.

            “It was...” I
started, before stopping myself. I didn't need to bitch to Kyle about my
problems; in fact, that was absolutely the last thing I should do right now.
“Oh, Kyle, I'm just being stupid. It's fine. I don't...”

            “Where are you,
Neve?” Kyle's voice was urgent. “I'll be right over.”

            “Kyle, it's okay.”

            “Neve – I'm sorry,”
Kyle said. “I've been a real jerk to you. But if you need me as a friend –
just
a friend – I am there for you, okay? I love you as a friend. Always have,
always will. And if you don't have a best girlfriend – well, I can try to fill
that role for you.”

            “Oh, Kyle...” He
meant so well, I knew that. But he
couldn't
be my “best girlfriend” -
not after the fight we'd had.

            Before I could say
anything, the door to my room flew open.

            To anyone else, the
sight of Keith Knight in a fuzzy white bathrobe, holding a baseball bat next to
the negligee-clad figure of Jessica Botano, holding a fire extinguisher, would
be something out of an LSD-induced hallucination. But to me, it was just Mom
and Dad.

            “I told you it was
Never!” Mom turned to my father. “But you wouldn't listen. Put away your bat.”
She turned to me apologetically. “He thought it was burglars.”

            “Babe Ruth himself
signed this bat, I'll have you know! And what are you doing back here, anyway?”
My dad grinned. “You need to warn us first – your mom and I thought that once
you were out of the house we could finally...have some fun.”

            “Keith!”

            “Dad!”
Great.
Keith
Knight, famous for the threesome he'd had with Mick and Bianca Jagger, was
better at having a happy monogamous relationship than I was.          

            “Is that your
parents?” Kyle's voice sounded urgent. “Are you at home? I'll be right over.”

            “Please don't,” I
said, as firmly as I could. “Do me a favor, Kyle. Go to bed. Be well-rested.
That's the best thing you could do for the band right now – or for me.”

            “Sure,” Kyle said,
sounding disappointed. “Goodnight, Neve.”

            “Goodnight.”

            “So what are you
doing back here, baby?” My mother sat down next to me on the bed.

            I looked at my dad.
“Guy stuff,” I muttered.

            “Out!” My mother
declared, and my dad sighed and shuffled away. “Our daughter needs her Mommy,
don't you, sweetie?”

            “Goodnight, Crabcakes,”
my father said. “I can see where I'm not needed. Just tell me where to send the
hit men.”

            “Dad!”
            “I'm just saying – I know people.”

            “Is it Luc?” My
mother hugged me.

            “No.”

            “Kyle?”

            “
Definitely
not!”

            “Really,” my mother
looked perplexed. “I was sure it would be one or the other eventually.”

            “It's neither.”

            “Neither!”

            “He's someone from
school.”

            “Oh.”

            “We were together –
and now we're...well, I guess we're broken up.”

            “You guess?”

            “I kind of left
before he could finish the job.”

            My mother hugged me
close. “Oh, baby... sometimes things like that just happen, you know? Sometimes
it's for the best. But even a bad relationship can teach you something
important about yourself. Or what you want. It's a learning experience – even
the painful ones. Especially the painful ones.” I felt the tears well up in my
eyes involuntarily. I couldn't help but think of Danny – how much I'd cared for
him, how much I'd started to love him...

            “I dated a lot of
toads before I met your father,” said my mother. “In the LA celebrity scene at
that time – there were a
lot
of guys who weren't great to women. Guys
who just wanted sex, guys who wanted total emotional control, guys who wanted
you to give them cred in the tabloids – all of it. And your father wasn't such
a peach when we met, either. He wasn't ready to settle down – be a family man.
And for our first few years...it was hard...” she sighed. “We came pretty close
to calling it quits a few times. And then we had you...and....well, it was a
combination of things. Keith and I were both getting older, more mature. We'd
been through so much together. And when you were born, your tiny fingers and
teeny toes seemed so much more important than LA parties or the covers to
tabloids...and now, your father and I couldn't be happier.”

            “Thanks, Mom,” I
snuggled into her arms, feeling like a child again.

            “Whatever and
whenever you need me,” she said. “I can help you. But I can't help you unless
you help yourself. Get some sleep before you do anything. You'll need to be
fighting fit for your performance at the Palladium tomorrow.”

            My stomach dropped.
“You know about that?”

            “Of course I know,”
my mother said. “I listen to college radio. I've known for ages. I never said
anything since I knew you wanted to keep it from your father – but...I'm proud
of you.”

            “And Dad?”

            “He wants to talk to
you in the morning. But for now – sleep!”

*****

            Things felt a little
bit better in the morning – being in my childhood home, the familiar light
streaming through the windows, made things seem a bit better. And then I
remembered. Dad wanted to talk to me. I gritted my teeth as I changed into my
pajamas. I knew how this conversation was going to go – I knew what Dad was
going to tell me. To quit the band, to give it up. He was going to tell me the
same lecture I'd heard so many times: that rock bands were no place for a
teenage girl even at eighteen, that the scene was filled with sex, drugs, and
booze, that he'd seen his friends die, choking on their own vomit, overdosing,
dying of AIDS contracted from drug use or unsafe sex. He couldn't look at me –
he'd said this many times before – without looking at his past, at his
mistakes, mistakes that almost cost him his life, and with it the family he had
today. I sighed. I wasn't in the mood to have this sort of conversation today,
not after the day I'd had. Between my fight with Kyle and losing Danny, it was
all I could do to get out of bed and shuffle into my slippers. I tried to dry
my tears, to strengthen myself for the day. Whatever my dad said, whatever he
threatened me with, I had to get to the Palladium tonight. I had to face Danny
– even when seeing him made my heart break into a million little pieces. I had
to face everything. I'd promised myself when I first started seeing Danny – I
wouldn't let my drama interfere with the life of the band. I wouldn't let my
heart get in the way of my voice. And that meant forcing myself to get through
this day.

            I walked into the
dining room, where my father was already sitting in a black satin dressing
gown, eating a plateful of eggs. He didn't look angry, I noted with surprise as
I tentatively sat down next to him. His eyes were wide – almost sad – he sighed
softly when I took the plate next to his and started to eat.

            “Hey, Crabcakes.”

            “Hey, dad.”

            “Pretty rough week,
huh?”

            “You saw the post?”

            “Who was that guy?
The one who kissed you.”

            “A stalker called
John Flint.”

            “Anyone you know?”

            I shook my head.

            “I had crazed fans
too. Stalkers. One girl kept sending naked pictures of herself to the house,
writing threatening letters to your mother. There are so many reasons to worry
in this business – that was only one of them. The tabloid coverage – the
constant supervision. I remember once, when your mother and I were first
married...it was hard at first, Neve. I didn't give up being a rock star right
away. I...saw other women. I was too drunk or too high to care that what I was
doing hurt your mother. And then I saw that the tabloids had caught me with one
of these women...and I knew your mother would see the pictures when she was checking
out at the grocery store. And I knew then – at that moment – that if I wanted
to keep a wonderful, smart, kind woman like your mother, I'd have to shape up.
The life I'd lived as a rock star – it wasn't just the sex, Neve. Or the drugs.
Or the lifestyle. It was the person I'd become: a person so strung-out and
selfish that I couldn't see that I was about to lose the people I loved most.
And that's what I don't want for you, Neve.”

            “Dad, it's not like
that.”

            “When I saw that
picture of you on TMZ, it was like seeing that picture of myself with...that
woman all over again. A reminder of the life I used to lead. A reminder of the
life I
cannot
lead if I want to be a good dad to you and a good husband
to your mother. It's so easy, as a rock star, to get so wrapped up in your own
drama and your own issues that you stop caring about the people around you.”

            I thought miserably
of Danny.

            “Then I decided to
listen to you play. I listened to the single that your band put up on Myspace.
Figured I'd have a listen before I judged. And it was
good
, Neve. Really
good.”

            I blushed slightly.
Dad had never complimented my music before. After all – how could any music I
created measure up to the sounds of Keith Knight and his band?

            “It reminded me of
why I went into rock and roll to begin with. Not to get rich or famous. Not to
get women or score drugs or get free booze. But to tell stories – beautiful
stories – with music and with words. To touch people. To make them feel
something.” He looked up at me. “Your songs made me feel something, Never.
Pride – in having a daughter so talented, able to find her own voice. I saw in
the liner notes that you wrote some of the songs, Never. You have...something
special. And you did it without me.” He smiled. “And I'm proud of that too – as
sad as it makes me to see my girl growing up. I was so afraid you'd turn into
one of the other celebrity daughters I know – trying to make a career on the
back of an over-indulgent father.
But
you weren't like that. You did it
by yourself. And I've never been prouder of you than I am now, Never.”

            I was speechless –
utterly shocked. After all this time I spent worrying about my father
forbidding me to be in a band, was he giving me his blessing?

            “This isn't an
unqualified showing of support, Never,” my dad continued, putting his hand on
my knee. “I'm still worried about you. The lifestyle – the rock n' roll scene –
it's no more innocent now than it was in the '70's and '80's. Maybe worse. And
I worry about you – as my daughter, as a human being – of the way that fame can
change you. There are so many dangers for a young woman these days. STDs,
pregnancy, drug addiction – and don't think I'm being alarmist, Never; I've seen
all these things happen to friends of mine back in the day.” He looked up at
me. “If you're going to do this, Never, at least let me keep you safe.
Introduce you to the right people, the people you can trust. People who won't
betray you or steal your money or try to get you hooked on drugs.”

            “I don't want you to
interfere, Dad,” I said, my voice choked with emotion. “I just want to make it
on my own – every step of the way. I don't want to be just Keith Knight's
daughter.”

“But you'll
always be my daughter, sweetheart,” he said. “And I'll always love you.” He
hugged me tight. “You wow them tonight at the Palladium, okay?”

            Tears were streaming
down my cheeks. “Okay,” I said.

            There wasn't time to
reflect on my conversation with my father. No sooner had we said our goodbyes
than I had to hop into the shower and get ready for tonight. My father's
strength had given me renewed energy, renewed vigor – the conviction that I had
to
wow them
all tonight. Not just the audience, but Danny too.
Let
him see what he's missing
, I thought angrily as I looked through my
wardrobe, in search of the perfect outfit to show Danny precisely what he could
have had – and what he'd lost.  I decided to go all out – a deep black leather
miniskirt with red trim, a lacy black bustier top that pushed up my breasts and
emphasized their shape, and red faux-crocodile heels that added a few inches to
my already not inconsiderable height. I left my hair long, allowing the dark
tresses to flow freely around my face, lining my eyes with copious amounts of
eyeliner to bring out the green-hazel tint Danny had once found so inviting...