A Road to Let Go (Fallen Tuesday #4) (3 page)

Soon there were dozens of hands
clawing at Jake.

The rest of the band came to him
and the crowd started to swell. Everyone pushed and pulled, wanting their
chance to get near Fallen Tuesday.

Jake felt people pushing and let
out a whistle.
“
Hey! We
’
ve got time. Relax. Everyone
have fun.
”

The band took their time and walked
up and down the parking lot. Shaking hands. Fist bumps. Autographs. Pictures.
Answering questions
…
denying marriage proposals
…
the usual.

A woman worked her way through the
crowd carrying a baby. When Jake spotted the infant, it stopped him dead in
tracks. The first person he thought of was Chloe. The woman and her baby wore
matching Fallen Tuesday shirts. It never dawned on Jake before that they made
Fallen Tuesday shirts for infants.

“
Look
at this guy,
”
Luke said.

“
We
love you guys so much,
”
she
said.
“
He listened to you
from the time he was in my belly. I swear on it. His father put headphones on
my stomach.
”

“
That
’
s awesome,
”
Mack said.
“
What his name?
”

“
Lucas
Mack
…”

“
No
way,
”
Luke said.

The woman
’
s face blushed as she nodded.
“
I would have named him everyone
one of your names. But when we have more kids, I swear, we
’
ll name them after the rest of
you guys.
”

Jake was taken back. He just stared
at the baby. The infant looked around with big blue eyes. Gumming two of his
fingers. Slobbering everywhere. He had fat cheeks and fat little fingers. Jake
put a hand out and the infant grabbed his pointer finger.

“
Hey
buddy,
”
Jake said.

The baby -
Lucas Mack
-
smiled a big toothless smile.

“
Look
at him!
”
his mother cried
out.
“
Shaking hands with
Jake from Fallen Tuesday!
”

“
Take
a picture,
”
Trent said.

The band huddled together with
mother and son for a few pictures. She thanked the band ten more times and then
they moved on.

Jake
’
s
heart had too many emotions running through it. For the next few minutes, he
was in autopilot. Engaging with fans but not really sure what he was saying or
what it meant to them. Two girls cried as they recalled a story of how their
father recently died from cancer. They wanted to thank the band for their
music, because it was all he listened to for comfort during the worst of his
days. That made Jake think about the pregnancy even more; would he be a good
enough dad that his child would miss him that much if he passed away?

The small stage was just a hundred
feet away, but the path to it was like a metaphor for Jake
’
s life in that moment; he was so
close to having his rockstar life, but there were obstacles and people between
him and the stage.

“
Hey,
check this out!
”
Gray said.
“
We have another fan in
training.
”

Jake turned and almost lost his
step. There was only one thing that could have been harder than seeing a woman
with an infant son. And that was seeing a pregnant woman.

She stood holding her belly. Two
security guards surrounded her and fought the crowd back.

The rest of the band rushed over. Jake
hung back.

“
She
okay?
”
Luke asked.

“
Yeah,
”
one of the guards said.
“
Crazy enough to stand at a gate.
Thought she was going to hurt herself. Or her baby.
”

“
I
’
m sorry,
”
the woman said.
“
I
had to meet you guys. I couldn
’
t
help it.
”

She touched her stomach and blinked
away tears.

“
What
’
s wrong?
”
Mack asked.

“
Just
…
life
…
but your music means so much
…”

Christ,
Jake thought.

He could see it in the woman
’
s eyes. She was alone. Probably
knocked up by some random guy or maybe some asshole who used her and ditched
her.

His heart ripped a little more. It
made him feel terrible for contemplating leaving Chloe. He would support her.
She
’
d have more than enough
money to survive. To raise a baby on her own. Nobody would go homeless or
hungry. But what kind of father did that make Jake then? How fair would it be
for Chloe to be alone all the time with no one to comfort her when she felt too
big or was too uncomfortable?

Jake turned and faced the stage. He
ignored everything around him. He saw the speakers, the mic stands, Mack
’
s drum kit. Life was happening
too fast and felt way too real. Part of being a rockstar was about living in the
fantasy of it, and this did not feel like that at all.

“
Hey,
you okay?
”

Jake turned to Trent and nodded.
“
I'm good.
”

“
You
look
…
out of it.
”

“
Overwhelmed
a little,
”
Jake said.
“
So many people, right?
”

“
Bro,
we played in front of forty thousand people,
”
Trent said.
“
This is
nothing compared to that.
”

“
But
we
’
re hearing and seeing
their lives, man,
”
Jake
said.
“
Up close and
personal.
”

“
Is
that all?
”
Trent asked with
a smile.

“
Come
on, man. You know how I am with this stuff. I
’
m
not like Luke and Mack.
”

Jake nodded in the direction of the
band -
his brothers
- and watched Luke and Mack talk to and work the
crowd as if they were all old friends. That wasn
’
t
how Jake operated. He liked being the quiet guitarist. His mystery only made
his guitar playing better. His demeanor drove fans wild and five years ago, it
was one of the biggest reasons women did
anything
to get on the band
’
s old touring van.

“
I
get it,
”
Trent said.
“
But look how close we are to the
stage.
”

Jake didn
’
t respond. He heard Trent but that was about it. He
simply looked at the pregnant woman. She was still touching her very round
belly. She was blinking fast, tears in her eyes. Luke had his arm around her.
The crowd cheered and cheered. Jake
’
s
heart raced and he grew nervous.

He was never nervous.

And the nerves had nothing to do with
the show the band was going to put on. It had to do with the pregnant woman
back at his apartment.

He had only wanted to have 'for old
times sake' fun with Chloe for a little while
…
not forever.

(3)

Mel Burhden struggled to carry a
large bucket of ice. Both arms were shaking, her knees were buckling, and a
shooting pain shot up and down her back. When she plopped it down on the floor
behind the bar, she bent over and let out a breath. She stood and tried to
stretch her back, but it just ached. It made her think of her old roommate when
she lived in North Carolina. She had the largest, most beautiful breasts Mel
had ever seen, but she always complained of back pain. Mel looked down to her small
chest and laughed. They definitely weren't responsible for her back pain. Then
again, Mel had plenty of her own problems. All of which were much more
important than the bucket of ice in front of her.

“
Come
on, Melanie, fill that up!
”
a voice called out.

Harry, the bar manager, rushed by
holding a folder of invoices. His big glasses were always down his nose. His brown
shirt barely matched his pants and he wore a name tag with the word
manager
on it as though he was part of something important.

“
On
it,
”
Mel replied.

Harry disappeared into the back.

Mel looked up and down the bar. It
had been a quiet morning and afternoon. She enjoyed having customers at the
bar. The stories were half the fun of the job. Mel wasn
’
t sure what the other half of the fun was because
if she wasn
’
t working a
shift behind the bar, she was cleaning the rooms throughout the hotel. She
needed the hours and the paycheck, so she was open to any job at the hotel and
any task that would help her find what she lost.

A set of elevators let out a ding
and a man wearing a suit with a leather bag slung over his shoulder came out.
He was face down in his cell phone as he navigated to the bar. For a second Mel
thought the man was going to walk right into one of the barstools, but at the
last moment he lifted his head and ended up sitting on the barstool. He put his
phone down and smiled.

“
What
can I get you?
”
Mel asked.

“
Just
an unsweetened tea, please. Business meeting in an hour.
”

“
Got
it,
”
Mel said.

She served the man and he put a ten
on the bar.

The man drank from the glass and
looked around. He was nervous. He looked like he needed a splash of whiskey or
rum in that glass of unsweetened tea.

“
Big
meeting?
”
Mel asked.

The man nodded.
“
Well, it
’
s an interview. For a position out here. I work in
New York City right now. Love it there. But out here I
’
d get a better position, more money, and I
’
d still travel to the city twice
a week.
”

“
That
sounds like fun,
”
Mel said.

“
Does
it?
”

“
Sure.
”

“
Yeah.
It
’
s a tough promotion to
grab. I
’
ve been here for
two days now and today is my interview. I
’
ll
find out tonight. Something tells me either way I
’
ll
be sitting right here.
”

The man offered a dry smile. His
cell phone vibrated and he exchanged the glass of unsweetened tea for his
phone. He shook his head as his thumbs went wild on the touch screen phone.

Mel looked back down at the large
bucket of ice.

Shit.

She had to lift it, again, and dump
it. It was going to make a hell of a racket. But it needed to get done. She
opened the lid to the ice chest under the bar and bent down. She grabbed the
sides of the bucket of ice and lifted. Biting her tongue and with a grunt, she
lifted it and dumped it over. The ice poured from the bucket with the expected
sound. The man at the bar stood and took a few steps back. Mel looked up and
mouthed
sorry,
but the man didn
’
t
see.

When the icy thunder sound ended,
Mel felt her muscles relax. She took the bucket to the other end of the bar and
then fixed her hair the best she could. She looked up at the clock and grew
nervous. It was almost time for her to call it quits on the long workday. She
had come in much earlier than usual that morning, and if Harry needed her
tonight, she would be back behind the bar.

Meanwhile, Mel was waiting for
someone. Someone very important.

The businessman sat back down. He put
his cell phone back on the bar and finished his drink.

“
Another?
”
Mel asked.

“
I
’
m good.
”

The man got up and headed toward
the conference room.

“
Your
change!
”
Mel called out.

“
Keep
it.
”

She took the ten, cashed it out
against the receipt for the man
’
s
drink, and then went to count her tips. It was next to nothing for the morning
and about the same she received as gratuity from the rooms she had cleaned. As
much as it sucked, Mel knew she couldn
’
t
give up. She had come all the way from North Carolina with a purpose.

Speaking of which
…

Jon walked through the main doors
to the hotel. His black coat, black glasses, and black hair did nothing to hide
the fact that he was a little different. She wondered how the hell he did his
job, but she never asked him. The man was short, thick, and intense. He eyed
the bar and gave a quick nod.

Mel looked at the clock again.

Right on time.

Harry walked by, his folder shut.

“
I
have to leave,
”
Mel said.

“
What?
Why?
”

“
My
shift is over, Harry.
”

Harry looked at the clock. He
pushed his glasses back up his face and frowned.

“
Oh,
”
he said.
“
Well, is the ice filled?
”

“
Of
course.
”

“
Everything
cleaned?
”

“
Yes.
”

“
I
might check.
”

“
That
’
s fine,
”
Mel said.

Harry put his hands to his hips. He
looked at Mel and then beyond her.
“
That
your boyfriend over there?
”

Mel looked at Jon.
“
That guy? No. Just someone
helping me.
”

Harry leaned in.
“
You on drugs?
”

“
What?
No. I mean, that
’
s none of
your business.
”

“
I
can drug test you, you know. You signed a piece of paper that said so. It
’
s my discretion. I
’
m the manager.
”

Mel felt her face burning red. She
was slightly embarrassed and even more angry. She couldn
’
t stand Harry, but she needed the job.

“
Harry,
I
’
m not on drugs. Okay? The
bar is clean. My shift is over. I
’
m
tired and I want to leave.
”

“
Tired?
Oh. Must be nice.
”

Mel let out a long sigh.
“
Is there anything else I can do
for you?
”

She knew this was the only way to
appease Harry
’
s massive
ego. He had to be the one to end a shift for someone. The clock meant nothing.
It was
his
bar and
he
was the manager.

Harry looked around the bar and
then sighed.
“
You
’
re good, Melanie. You can leave
now.
”
He looked at Mel
again. He lowered his head, looking over the top of his glasses.
“
Thank you, okay?
”

Mel forced a smile and walked away
from Harry. She rushed into the kitchen to punch out and then shook her arms
and legs, feeling icky. She hated when Harry looked over his glasses at her.
She took off her apron and rolled it up. When she came back out of the kitchen,
Jon was standing at the bar.

“
Mel,
”
he said.

“
Jon.
”

“
Out
back?
”

“
Yes.
”

It felt so secretive and wrong, and
she understood why Harry would get the wrong impression about Jon. He looked
shady and totally acted the part. But he worked as a private investigator and
had to keep appearances.

Mel went through the kitchen to the
usual catcalls from the cooks. Normally they weren
’
t this bad, but since Mel was the only woman in the
kitchen and bar right now, all attention was on her.

She waved it all off. It really
didn
’
t bother her because
most of the guys in the kitchen were decent people. Plus, she would be a liar
if she said she didn't enjoy the attention.

Out back, Mel walked to her car and
opened the passenger door. She tossed her apron onto the seat and slammed the
door shut. A few seconds later, a sleek black car pulled around and Jon opened
the door. He got out and motioned for Mel to come to him.

“
You
have anything for me?
”
Mel
asked.

“
I'll
ask you the same,
”
Jon
said.

Mel reached into her pocket and
pulled out cash. She counted through the money, putting down most of her
earnings on the roof of the car.

Gosh,
she thought,
if a
cop - or Harry - saw this, it would definitely look like a drug deal
…

Jon took the cash and nodded. He
took his sunglasses off. He had the scariest eyes Mel had ever seen.

“
I
’
m sorry if it
’
s not enough,
”
Mel said.

“
I
’
m not worried about it,
”
Jon said.
“
I did a little more research and
found that there
’
s a few
people with the Burhden name living in a hundred mile radius. I went to check
out each one and I really don
’
t
think they
’
re related to
you, Mel.
”

“
No?
”

“
Two
men, one woman. Both men are retired, one is in his nineties. The woman is
fifty-four years old, never been married, doesn
’
t
even have a boyfriend. She
’
s
an IT person for a communications company and lives in a small condo with two
cats. She has a sizable 401(k) and no immediate family. My personal guess is
that
if
they are related to you, it
’
s
a far way to track the connection down.
”

“
So
you have nothing?
”

“
Well,
nothing is something,
”
Jon
said and smiled.

Mel remembered Jon telling her that
the day they met. He also told her that this wasn
’
t
a guarantee. That it could be a lot of time, work, and money, and the results
could possibly be unfavorable. Jon would still get paid plenty. That was made
very clear, too. Jon didn
’
t
work on a contingency basis of making anyone happy. And he was famous for
saying
nothing is something
. Because, in all actuality, nothing was
something.

“
Okay,
”
Mel said.
“
There
’
s nothing else? Nothing that connects?
”

“
Sweetheart,
you gave me a copy of a faded picture,
”
Jon said.
“
A picture that
looks twenty years old. And you think your father
’
s
first name is Tim.
”

Mel nodded as her cheeks turned
red. There were days, like these, when she wondered if it was even worth
spending all this time and effort tracking down her biological father. Maybe he
didn't want to be found. For all Mel knew, she could have been in the wrong place
with the wrong name. All she had to go by was the picture she found in her
mother
’
s nightstand drawer
the day she cleaned it out, rushing to get out of the old apartment before the
asshole landlord charged another month
’
s
rent. All that coming on the heels of her mother losing her life to a heart
condition that started with a few chest pains and ended with one last short
breath.

“
I
wish there was something else I could do,
”
Mel said.

“
Well,
not to be a jerk here, but if you keep paying me, I
’
m going to keep looking. Whether there
’
s something here or not.
”

“
Do
you think there
’
s something
here?
”

“
I
can
’
t be sure of that. Tell
you what, why don
’
t you jot
down everything you know about your mother. Name, maiden name, family, friends.
Give me everything you can. I
’
ll
start there. Maybe they have a friend in common or something.
”