Snapshot (27 page)

The vast great room was littered with empty bottles, glassware, and a multitude of ashtrays, lighters, and the familiar bong.
 

The open patio doors revealed a man in a white polo shirt and shorts cleaning the pool. The scene reminded her of staying at a hotel once where the help cleaned up while the guests slept. Warm air wafted in and tickled her skin, making her think maybe life would be okay.
 

She wandered down the hall to the kitchen for something to eat. Inside the restaurant-size kitchen, designed for catering companies instead of families, she found the granite counters covered with dirty glassware, serving dishes crusted over with dried hummus and a platter containing the remains of a dead, smoked salmon.

If Marti hadn’t heard the clink of silverware, she might have missed the tiny figure working hard at the sink. Marti moved around the edge of the giant island to get a closer peek.

“Rosa?” she asked.

The middle-aged woman looked up from her work. Her round cheeks and bobbed haircut hadn’t changed a bit. “Yes.” She took one look at Marti and squinted her dark brown eyes as if trying to puzzle something out. Then her eyebrows rose. She pulled her hands from the soapy dishwater and grabbed a towel. “Marti? Is that you?”
 

Marti nodded and smiled.

Rosa dried her hands in haste and came at her like a mama bear to a lost cub. “Oh my goodness, look at you! All grown up and such a pretty girl.” Rosa held Marti’s face between her damp hands.
 

Marti smiled again. She had forgotten all about Rosa. She had worked for her dad all those years ago and had been one of the only constants in Marti’s chaotic life.
 

“What are you doing here? Mr. Hunter never say you are coming back?”

No big surprise there. Apparently he didn’t tell his girlfriend either. “My grandma died.” Marti’s voice cracked before the words were out.

“Oh, you poor girl. That is terrible.” She wrapped her aging arms around Marti and patted her back. “I only met your grandmother once, but I could tell she was a fine lady. Things will be okay, you will see.”
 

Marti swallowed back her tears. Crying wouldn’t accomplish anything.

Rosa sighed and released her. “You must be very hungry. Let me get you something to eat. Sit up to the counter.”
 

Marti sat while Rosa pulled items out of the refrigerator and went to work pulling items from the industrial-sized refrigerator. “He didn’t even remember to pick me up at the airport.” There, she’d complained about him and felt a teeny bit better getting it off her chest.

“That is no surprise to me. Your father, he is loony. He fried his brain a long time ago. Too many bad drugs.”

That made sense. Deep down, Marti always knew that.

Before she knew it, Rosa set a dish of fresh strawberries, blueberries and bananas along with two slices of crusty toast spread with blackberry jelly before Marti.
 

“Here, you eat up.” And that was the end of the touchy feely display.

Marti sunk her teeth into the warm bread. Satisfied, Rosa went back to her work, this time humming a happy tune.

After thanking Rosa for breakfast, Marti decided to check out what had changed here in the years she’d been gone. She passed the library with books she knew no one ever read and the smoking room with dark wood, dark walls and the heavy scent of cigars. The game room was made complete with an antique pool table with inlaid wood and carved legs. Her dad’s favorite arcade games from when he was a kid, Galaga, Asteroids and Ms Pacman, lined the wall. Every room featured framed photographs of her dad with famous people including rock legends and even a couple of past presidents.

When she arrived at the music room, she lingered in the doorway. Inside, a grand piano anchored the room. Drawn by some invisible pull, she entered and rested her hands on the polished wood. Not a spec of dust rested upon it. She considered raising the lid to touch the ivory keys, but her stomach clenched, and she decided not to. Instead she examined the numerous guitars propped in their stands around the room. A different guitar for each kind of music. Her dad kept a saxophone, an oboe, and a trumpet on display. In this room, unlike the others, there were no pictures of famous people or even of her dad, which was a rarity since the man always surrounded himself with his own image.
 

The decorations in this room were things that inspired him. His first guitar hung on the wall over the fireplace. The flyer from his first gig with his high school buddies was pinned up next to his Eagle pin from Boy Scouts. Hard to picture her dad as a scout, let alone an Eagle.
 

She walked the perimeter of the room, taking in the tokens of his life that meant so much to him. As a little girl, she never noticed these things. Maybe he added them more recently.
 

When she reached the far wall, she found more pictures, but not like the ones adorning the rest of the mansion. Surprised to see herself, Marti walked closer to check out the picture of her, about four years old, at the beach. She wore the brightest, sweetest smile. Her light blonde hair blew in the wind around her sun-kissed, chubby cheeks. The little girl in the picture didn’t have a care in the world.

Next, she found pictures of Jack and Brandy. They varied from pictures of them as little kids through their teen years. One picture featured all three of them the Christmas before she left. Marti looked young and innocent; while Jack was about fourteen, his hair long, and he wore a sullen expression. Brandy, the oldest, must have been about nineteen. Her hair was cropped short, dyed black and spiked out in rebellion. Her face featured a nose and lip piercing, along with several on her ears. Dark make-up outlined the eyes of the troubled girl. Marti wondered what this messed up girl grew up to do with her life. When Marti moved to Wisconsin at age ten, they never tried to stay in touch. Not that they were ever close.

As she scanned the pictures, she came across one of a beautiful blonde girl wearing a wedding dress. The girl looked radiant, but Marti didn’t recognize her.

Marti wandered through the remaining rooms on that floor, and then back to the great room. During the time Marti explored, Rosa had cleaned the disaster of a room, leaving no hint of the previous mess.
 

The sound of splashing water attracted Marti’s attention. She walked onto the terrace and discovered her father swimming smooth clean strokes across the pool. This was new.
 

She stood in the doorway. She didn’t really belong here, and she really didn’t know the man in the pool either. He was her father, but he was mostly a stranger. He spent all of thirty seconds talking to her yesterday. He hadn’t given her enough thought to pick her up from the airport or even send someone in his place. She was no more to him than something to brag about. He’d created a kid. Big deal.

He reached the far end of the pool and hopped out, revealing his naked butt.
Eww!
Marti whipped around to avoid a more informative view. She stepped into the great room to find Courtney eyeing her. Courtney perched on a pristine beige couch eating Cheetos. She wore tiny shorts and a tank top that hugged her body so tight a blind man could see her nipples. Her mussed hair and lack of makeup gave her an air of youth and innocence, which Courtney erased by speaking.
 

“You’re still here.” She crunched down another Cheeto.

What did she expect? For Marti to disappear over night? “Still here,” Marti stated, her voice solid even if her future wasn’t.

“So how long is this little visit of yours?” Courtney licked cheese residue from her fingers.

Marti sank her hands into her pockets. What could she say? This was her new home, because otherwise she was homeless? That her dad was the only one left on the planet who could take her in? Before she could come up with a lame answer, Courtney continued.

“Because I’ve got a lot of plans, and they don’t include some doe-eyed, long lost daughter.” Courtney’s laser sharp eyes pierced Marti.

Her dad entered with a towel the color of the ocean wrapped around his narrow hips. “Hey, everybody’s up. Did you have fun last night?” he asked Marti and plopped down in the middle of the couch.

He hadn’t realized Marti left the party after a minute and a half. “It was great.” She tried not to roll her eyes.

Courtney slid next to her dad. “I was just telling… what’s her name again? Oh yeah, Martini, that we have some big stuff coming up.”

Her dad reached into the drawer on the coffee table and pulled out a joint and a lighter.
 

“We’re in the final negotiations to star in a new show. We’re about to start filming a reality show,
Lifestyles of the Rich and Rockin’
.”

Her dad lit the joint and took a long drag. He held it in for a while and then blew the stinky smoke into the air.

“This show is going to launch my career,” Courtney said. “The producer said I’m going to be the next It Girl! I’m going to be bigger than the Kardashians.”
 

“You’re planning a comeback?” Marti asked her dad, as he slowly got stoned.

“Yup,” he said, holding his breath, then exhaled. “The band’s meeting here tomorrow night. I’ve been working on new material to put with our greatest hits. It’s going to be our best tour yet.”

Courtney looked away every time Marti’s dad spoke to Marti. Courtney nuzzled up to him and drew little circles on his neck with her finger. It totally grossed Marti out.
 

“So, sweetie, how long is Martini going to visit?”
 

Despite his dilated eyes, he responded right away. “As long as she wants. I imagine at least until she finishes high school.”

Courtney’s eyes flashed rage. Marti knew Courtney would do everything in her power to make sure Marti didn’t
want
to stay very long.
 

“School? Are you sure that’s a good idea with all the film crews moving in here?”

“She can be part of the show.”

What?
No way did Marti plan on being part of a reality show or any other show, for that matter. She needed to get them off the subject of her being part of their train-wreck lives. “Speaking of school, I probably need to get registered. It must start soon.”

“Courtney will help you. Won’t you, honey? She’s good at organizing things.” He picked up the TV remote and aimed it at the mammoth flat screen. He tuned it to some show about buying junk from forgotten storage units.

Courtney smiled sweetly at Marti’s dad and then turned an evil sneer on Marti. “I’d like nothing better.”

Message received
. Marti took the signal and retreated to her room.

Chapter 16

Adam hated red-eye flights, because even though they had the comfort and privacy of first class, he could never sleep. So while his parents and brother Garrett snoozed like babies, he watched a dozen episodes of Family Guy and tried not to miss Marti. The wheels touched down at JFK, and Adam practically jumped off the plane.

To make it less likely he’d be recognized, he pulled on a cap and dipped his head as they deplaned. It helped that they looked like a family on vacation, and that Peter wasn’t along to create the more recognizable trio of Jamieson.

Adam’s dad called ahead to Roger, their head of security. By the time they reached the airport exit, an SUV with tinted windows waited at the curb. Adam hopped in the far back and stretched out while the others climbed in. Within seconds, they were on their way to the hotel, no one the wiser of the band members passing by. Someone on Roger’s team would wait for their mountain of luggage and bring it to the hotel.

The ride downtown took an hour. Adam sent Marti a text. With the time change, she’d still be asleep, which is what he wanted to be. He loved New York City. Something about the energy there felt different than anywhere else. But as they drove further into the heart of New York, the towering skyscrapers crowded closer than he recalled. This claustrophobic feeling must be due to all that time in the woods in Wisconsin where open space was plentiful and the air smelled... clean. So unlike congested New York City with its exhaust odors.

They pulled up in front of the Waldorf. Doormen welcomed them into the upscale hotel known for excellent security. Adam brought up the rear of their jet-lagged group. Roger directed them to the elevator, and they made it to the Presidential Suite without incident. They would occupy two large suites, he and his parents in one and Peter and Garrett in another. They still treated him like a child, which annoyed Adam to no end.
 

He dumped his bag on the floor, fell onto the couch and put his feet up.

“Adam, shoes off the sofa,” his mother said.

He toed them off and covered his eyes with his arm, wanting nothing more than to sleep. He listened as his mother created the family nest as she did whenever they were at a hotel for more than a day or two. He heard Roger set his heavy travel cases on the floor and fish out schedules that would be the master plan for this week, this month, and probably the entire year.
 

As Adam drifted off, he heard a knock, the door open and Peter and their manager, Wally, walk in. Great, he couldn’t even catch five minutes.