Whisper (10 page)

“Because of you, we
both
got away and ended years of some pretty awful times.” She needed to make Heather understand how important that night was. She didn’t want her feeling guilty for saving them both. “I loved him once. But relationships can change. Our marriage was bad, and it never really dawned on me until that night.”

“How bad?”

“Horrific.”

“You’re not angry I caused us to leave? Or because you wound up divorcing him?”

“You made me make a choice. I’m thankful every single day. I don’t know what would’ve happened if we hadn’t left.”

“Why does he want you back so much?”

“My name. When I’m drumming for the Robert Black Band, the money comes in because a piece of Bob Black is up on stage.”

Heather smiled a little. “You’re a wicked drummer, Wendy. Whisper!” she immediately corrected herself. “Sorry.”

She couldn’t slip, not even when they were alone. It was bad enough she’d decided to use the last name
Neuman.
Most people knew her as Wendy Black. Her married name never really took hold to 78

Whisper

replace the name she’d had with the media. Besides, using her married name after the divorce was absurd. Using his name to hide from him gave her some form of deep satisfaction.

“Was Doug ever a good drummer? I remember him practicing when I was really little. Then he went away. Mom wouldn’t let me listen to the music.

I never knew he was famous until after she died.”

“He was the best once. One of the reasons I married him was because I was so impressed with his talent. That, and when I toured with Dad in the beginning, Doug kept me company. He amused himself with drugs back then. Nothing like since Dad died. That’s when he stopped drumming and started playing manager. Eventually, his addiction was the only full time career he handle. Besides, when I took his spot, sales and money skyrocketed.

He figured out real quick he didn’t have to do much to profit. He sat back and counted the income.” Heather grew quiet and appeared thoughtful.

“How’d you know I’d listen this time? I mean, I heard you before but there was a wall up or something. The words made it in, but they didn’t make sense.”

She stroked her hair. “Corey.”

“What?” She looked up, startled.

“Has he kissed you yet?”

“No.” Her brows came together.

“You’ve probably avoided it.”

“How would you know something like that?”

“I watch. I see some things. With you feeling guilty about trying to
seduce
Doug, I doubted you’d ever let a boy get close.”

More tears threatened to escape, this time from anger. It was about time! “I never tried to seduce him! Never!”

Whisper felt dizzy with relief. “I know that. Now you know it, too.”

79

Kathleen Lash

“Wendy?”

She didn’t correct her. Heather appeared younger again and vulnerable. “Yes, honey?”

“One more question.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“That night—what he said to me—he pulled my hair and pushed me down. The things he said…”

“It’s over now. Don’t think about it anymore.”

“He thought I was you? He did those things to you?”

She’d wanted to make certain issues clear in Heather’s mind. She’d never meant to create new nightmares for her to dwell on. It hadn’t occurred to her that Heather would put it together from the conversation.

“No,” Whisper said quickly, “he came home really messed up that night. It was worse than ever.

He was angry about the concert.”

“Why—what happened?”

“I had a terrible night. I slammed my hand in the car door that day. Do you remember?”

“Yeah, I do. Your hand was really swollen.”

“Well, you don’t cancel a concert because the drummer has a problem. Twice I lost sticks and Doug was back stage getting really mad. The longer he thought about it, the angrier he got until he wanted to fight.”

“You couldn’t help it.”

Whisper smiled, partially because Heather remained ignorant about a lot of the trouble that took place between her and Doug. “I think he was embarrassed. I was his wife and he thought my actions directly reflected on him.”

“If he was angry over a few lost drumsticks, I wonder how he’s dealing with you divorcing him.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think about that any more.

He probably just wants more money.”

“Are you ready to start baking?” Heather asked, 80

Whisper

holding out her hand. She’d forced poor Heather into dredging up history on the day before Thanksgiving.

Holiday’s and special occasions were generally a time they had fun. They both tried making up for a lot of lost years.

Whisper accepted her hand and stood. “We’ll be at it all afternoon.”

“Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. Can’t you call off tonight?”

“I’d rather work tonight and get tomorrow off. I could switch however, but that’d leave you and the others with all the dishes.”

They made it to the kitchen and began pulling bowls, spoons, and ingredients out of cupboards. “Do you like Keith?” Heather asked.

“Sure. Do you?”

“Yeah, but I mean, do you like him as more than a friend?”

“Oh, I don’t think about that stuff anymore.

Besides, I have this sassy girl I’m trying to make go down the right path in life.” She opened the container of flour. “What about you—does Corey do it for you?”

“Whisper!”

“I see all that sizzling eye contact going on between you two when he sings. He’s got an amazing voice for a boy. It changed early and he can really groan the lyrics out.”

“Do you think they’ll ever make it big?”

“Sure, if they have enough determination. Too bad for you, though. My mamma told me to stay the hell away from musicians. Dad certainly caused her a heap of trouble when they’d been younger. I didn’t listen though. You will.”

“Corey wouldn’t hurt me like your dad did your mom. Or Doug did you.”

“No? You have some secret plan guaranteeing it?”

81

Kathleen Lash

“Yep. I’d tell Keith on him.” They both started laughing. Heather could be one smart and sassy young lady.

****

Whisper and the kids worked all afternoon preparing Thanksgiving dinner. Other families celebrated with a gathering of people and an abundance of food. Prior years involved the gathering at his house. The homemade meal however, had most definitely been lacking.

He listened as they talked in the kitchen. Their voices remained fairly quiet, considering how many of them spoke. Corey said, “No, really, Whisper. Tell me what I should do different.”

“Honey,” she replied, “I said not one word about you changing a thing.”

“Fine, you didn’t say it, but you got a look on your face.”

“Help him,” Heather said. “Tell him what you know. Please?”

A bunch of children started whining at the same time.
Please, please, pretty please.
He smiled.

Whisper’s hands were probably full cooking and they didn’t care.

He could make out every word she uttered with that soft voice of hers. His hearing seemed more acute since she’d been around. “All right, but it’s just my opinion.” The kitchen grew very quiet except for the occasional bang or clang of a pot or pan. “The lyrics are good. There’s depth of emotion, and you’re making some pretty strong statements.” 82

Whisper

“But?” Corey asked.

“You’re sixteen. You’re making those statements to impact an audience of peers. They’re fine.”

“I think what Corey wants is to refine his four letter vocabulary,” Mark said.

Everyone laughed. Whisper replied, “Well, seems to me those four letter words are in most post-grunge lyrics.”

“That’s the problem,” Corey said. “You helped us lengthen and stagger the tempos. Now that we’ve changed, the words don’t fit.”

“We lack sophistication. Yeah, we need bigger words to say what we mean,” Jade chimed in.

“All right,” Whisper said, “let’s talk about a
higher concept
.”

“What?” Corey asked.

“Like your music, you want the band to have a unique quality. That’s why you quit doing cover music and started writing your own. What you say should also be unique.”

“Give me an example.”

“You all love the word
death
.”

“So?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it. It describes what you want to say. But it’s blunt, like I’m being.

What if you were to make it more subtle, treat your listeners like they had a brain?”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you understand the difference in meaning between assault and coercion?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t,” Billy said and Keith smiled. The conversation fascinated him. He could hardly wait for what she’d say next. Some of the lyrics were more than a little blunt. Actually, they were downright scary.

“The word
dead
or
death
is an assault. The word
afterlife
gives the same general meaning in a less 83

Kathleen Lash

blunt manner. It forces a person to get the message, without beating them over the head.” Jade piped up. “And what the hell rhymes with
afterlife?
”

“Knife,” Whisper replied. The kitchen fell silent.

Yeah, they could definitely use the word in the types of songs they wrote.

“I get it!” Corey said suddenly. “
He went for
death, with crystal meth, and then he fell, straight
into hell.
That’s too blunt. But how would you
allude
to something like that?”

“Why is he killing himself?” she asked.

“Does it matter?”

Keith chuckled quietly.
Let’s see her get out of
this one.

“Sure it does,” she replied. “If he’s some psycho meth-head that wants to die, that’s fine. But why is he in love with the drug?”

“Again,” Corey asked, “does it matter?”

“Yes. You’re telling this poor guy’s story, and we don’t even know why he’s so desperate. Give him history. I’ll be shocked when he dies, but I’d cry if I knew why.”

“Fine. He had his leg blown off in a war. How’s that.” Legs seemed to be an issue with Corey lately.

Poor kid.

“What’s the story? A missing leg isn’t a reason to kill yourself.”

“Sure it is. Probably happens a lot.”

“Again, think about the higher concept. Why does it affect him? He doesn’t feel like a man anymore? He can’t support his family? His girlfriend left because she couldn’t handle his disability?”

“I get it. Wife puked when she saw him. He couldn’t take it. Now what?”

The kitchen fell silent and Keith reached over to get some water. He drank and placed the empty glass down silently, waiting for her answer.

84

Whisper

“He came home from war, she hit the door.” Dishes rattled before something scraped a pot. “Half a leg, half a life, alone in hell, with no damn wife.

Light the pipe, up the dose, peace is coming, getting close. The pipes redemption, a clouded brain, six stories down, would end the pain.” The kids started clapping before she hushed them.

“I have to write that down,” Corey said.

“Please don’t. You get my drift thought about a higher concept? You don’t necessarily need bigger words; you need a deeper meaning. And when you throw in the four letter words, make it for impact.”

“How do you know this stuff, Whisper?”

“I have ears. I listen to music. I read. Sometimes it’s what a person
doesn’t
say straight out that really communicates what’s going on.” The kids all started talking. Keith pondered her last statement. It described everything about her.

Her compassion, ability with the kids and laughter surrounded them. It was blunt. The subtle flinch when he caught her unaware, the apologies when they got close the night he came home, were more subtle. She’d never said so, but she’d been hurt. Her and Heather both.

The way she handled the kids, the house, and jumped right in to take care of him, showed one thing. Her knowledge of drugs and post-grunge music didn’t fit in with the rest. Smoking meth and linking it to
redemption,
also struck him. It applied to the story and rhymed, but she almost effortlessly blurted the words out. Had she been an addict? She seemed connected to the lifestyle.

He’d need to be watchful of her and not get too close. Then again, maybe their play from the other night wouldn’t happen again. Damn, he hoped not.

That mouth of hers and those warm little hands!

God, she smelled so good. The pills could account for 85

Kathleen Lash

his perfect slumber after they’d enjoyed each other.

It more than likely came from the scent of her desire wrapping around him in the warmth of his bed, making him content and calm. He’d never had a woman in his bed. Not in their house.

He thought one day he’d get married and have his own private life, fulfilling needs while the kids surrounded him. That dream died at least five years ago. No woman would put up with his brothers and all their friends, let alone the occasional trouble.

And his family came first. Always.

A warm hand rested on his arm. He turned his head and found her crouched beside the recliner.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“You hungry?”

He gazed at her and those damned usual eyes.

The urge to kiss her and pull her across his lap overwhelmed him. He wanted her. He would’ve wanted her if they’d met any other place under any other circumstance. “Yeah, I’m starving.”

“You look comfortable. Would you like to eat in here?”

He shook his head and started the process of rising. She helped by taking the blanket and moving the pillows out from under his leg. He walked in the door a week ago, and there she was. He should probably be guarded about how natural it felt having her there. At his age however, when times seemed good, he tended not to question too much. He simply enjoyed the above average hours and days, facing the rest when it happened. And it always happened.