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Authors: R.L. Merrill

The Rock Season (6 page)

BOOK: The Rock Season
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I sighed and turned to Maryland. “I didn’t know we had tickets for Wednesday.”

She grinned sinfully. “We do now!”

Chapter Six

 

McShane

 

“Of all the nights this could possibly happen,” I cursed into the phone.

Schroeder cleared his throat. “I’m really sorry, man. He just showed up here a few minutes ago. He’s totally trashed. And crying.”

I ran out to my car and told Schroeder I’d be there as soon as I could.

Schroeder lived in an apartment above the store. Shortly before he called, Peter showed up drunk and in tears at his door. Schroeder let him in and Peter asked him to call me. It took me forever to get out of the concert traffic and onto the freeway, but it was smooth sailing from then.

I pulled up in the rear and let myself in with my key. I ran up the steps and knocked on the door. Schroeder answered immediately and I could see Peter sitting on his couch with his head in his hands.

“He’s moaning about some girl.”

I went and sat next to him, taking a deep breath for patience’s sake. “What’s going on, little bro?”

He looked up at me and the pain in his face socked me in the gut. His eyes were glassy and he smelled like fruity puke. “I’m sorry, Aaron. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t go home. She dropped me off and I didn’t know what time it was and Schroeder let me in.”

I asked Schroeder if he’d make us some tea. He nodded and went quietly to his kitchen. I put my hand on Peter’s back and he turned into me, clutching to my shirt.

“This sucks, Aaron. Why do girls suck so bad?”  

I stifled a laugh, thinking at any other time he’d be happy about that. “I don’t know, bud. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

He leaned back and wiped his snotty nose on the sleeve of his Diamond Supply shirt. “I don’t know! I love her, man. She just won’t listen. She says she needs space but I can’t do it. I need her.” Then he was sobbing and holding on to me for dear life. I wasn’t sure how much of this was the alcohol talking and how much was truly sadness. I held him and rubbed his back until he was breathing heavily, obviously he’d passed out. Schroeder came back in with the tea and chuckled.

“Poor kid. Here, let me get him a pillow and a blanket. And a trash can.”

I nodded my thanks and held my little brother close for a few moments more. The age difference made things a little weird with Peter and Patrick. Sometimes they felt more like my children, but on a night like tonight, I felt like a big brother. I was glad he came looking for me, glad he hadn’t driven. When he was sober, we’d go for a long walk and talk about this girl who was giving him fits. I sure knew how he felt.

Schroeder came back in and helped me get Peter laid out on the sofa. I took his shoes off and tucked him in. Schroeder said he could stay the night, me too if I wanted to be here when he woke up.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll just stay for a bit and be back early. I want to check on things at the house. I hope Patrick isn’t in the same shape.”

He nodded and plopped down in a beat up recliner and turned on some soft music. I sat on the floor at the end of the couch.

“I hate it that he’s going through this,” I said after a bit. “He’s just as sensitive as me. As our Pops, too. Patrick is a little more of a player. I’ve yet to see him settle down with one girl. But Peter is more sensitive. Maybe this girl is what’s had him a mess for the past few months.” He hadn’t mentioned a steady girlfriend, but that’s where the weirdness in our relationship came in. They often kept things from me if they thought I would judge them or give them shit about it.

Schroeder grunted and said, “Girls do suck at that age, and I don’t mean in a good way.”

I laughed hard at that one. “I didn’t find many that sucked in a good way at his age. Then again, they can be hell at any age.” I couldn’t find it in my heart to be negative about girls tonight, though. “Hey, Schroeder? You ever meet a woman that is just so fucking beautiful that you lose all faculties when you’re around her?”

He frowned at me and tugged on a lock of his blonde, curly hair. “I’m not sure. I haven’t met that many beautiful women. Truly beautiful, I mean. Why? Did you get dumbstruck tonight?” He gave me a smirk and I rolled my eyes, knowing he was going to give me a ration about this.

“I sort of did. It’s this woman I saw at the beginning of the summer at a show there. She’s absolutely exquisite with crazy-hot, gorgeous red hair. She was there again tonight.”

He was watching me curiously. “And,” he finally asked.

“Well, that’s just it. I can barely breathe around her, much less hold an intelligent conversation. We stood there just staring at each other tonight and I felt like an idiot, but I just couldn’t walk away either. Talk about awkward.”

He shook his head. “You are such a sap, McShane. Does she have a name? Do you know anything else about her?”  

This was an even harder part. “I don’t know her name. She was pregnant when I saw her the first time and now she’s not. She doesn’t wear a ring. What do you think that means?”

He frowned. “That she doesn’t wear a ring? Beats the hell out of me. Did she act interested or did she act taken?”  

My turn to frown. “I don’t know. She smiled at me. She touched my...Oh shit. Hey, am I still bleeding?” I turned my head around and he cursed.

“What the fuck happened?” He got up quickly and yanked me up, pushing me towards the bathroom. “Jesus, first I gotta worry about your little bro puking everywhere and now you’re going to bleed all over my place. You McShanes are a walking, talking, cluster fuck just looking for a place to happen.”

I laughed, thinking he wasn’t too far off base. He opened his cabinet and I was grateful to see that his bathroom was fairly clean. Schroeder wasn’t the best housekeeper and he hated doing bathrooms, but this wasn’t too bad.

“Hey, you’re seeing someone, aren’t you?”  

He flinched. “What makes you say that?”  

I snorted. “Because there’s no dirty underwear all over the floor in here, the toilet seat is down and there is no mildew at all in your sink and shower. C’mon, who is it?”  

He shrugged. “A friend of Callie’s. It’s just been a few dates. I think I’m too boring for her. She’s even wilder than Callie, if you can believe that.”

That was hard to imagine.

He pulled off the now-soaked bandage and sucked in a breath. “Jesus, Aaron. I think you need stitches, bro.” He held up a mirror in front so I could see the damage.

“Goddammit. Fuck. All right. Can you watch little man while I run over to the ER?”  

He told me he would and put a fresh bandage on the back of my head. “What the fuck happened, anyway?”

“Breaking up a mosh pit gone bad on the grass. Someone punched someone’s girlfriend and about ten morons started really fighting. Some of the other security guys got hit with glass. Now I’m thinking the bottle must have broken off my head.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Always knew you were hard headed.” He walked me to the door and we bro-hugged. “So when are you going to see your redhead again?”  

I smiled like a Cheshire cat. “Wednesday.”

He nodded in approval. “Right on, man. See you in the morning.”

I waved as I headed back down to my car and then drove across town to Kaiser. I prayed that there weren’t too many other folks ahead of me.

When I arrived, I was told I was fourth in line behind a car accident, a heart attack, a baby with an ear infection and a dog bite. I let out a breath, exhausted, and figured I better get comfortable. Waiting ‘til tomorrow would probably make the scar worse and while I didn’t really mind having a scar, this cut was at least two inches long and jagged. I didn’t need to look like a thug with my bald dome.

I rested my head back against the wall, careful not to put pressure on the wound, and I closed my eyes. Her face was still there, smiling shyly at me. Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough.

 

Stevie

 

My phone buzzed the morning after the Crüe show. I rolled over and winced when the light hit my eyes. This studio apartment was so damn bright, which I didn’t mind too much most mornings, but I had a bit of a headache after last night. Nothing a swim wouldn’t cure. I looked at my phone and saw it was already 9:00, meaning Maryland had likely been up for three or more hours already as her girls were early risers. She’d sent me three texts.

 

I hope you had as much fun as I did last night.

 

I’m so glad we got out!

 

I wanted to share with you a little gift this morning...

 

Oh. My. She’d somehow managed to snap a picture of me talking to my Savior last night! I had my hand on his shoulder and he was smiling down at me just inches from my face. It must have been when I was looking at his wound. Oh! I hope he was ok! It looked pretty nasty the way it was still bleeding through the bandage! I hope he went and got it looked at. I wondered if he had someone to make sure he went.

I shook myself. Where were these thoughts coming from? I stretched out my back and slid into my swimsuit. The pool was usually empty if I got there before noon and they had a lane roped off for lap swimming at all times. I managed to find a complex with an Olympic sized pool, which was perfect. I got into the groove of my lap swim and just let my brain go empty for a while. Gliding through the water, I could forget everything and let my body relax. Swimming had been my sanctuary since I was a kid. I joined a swim club when I was in junior high and competed all through high school and college. I loved it because it forced me to push myself to better my times each week. Sure, it was a team sport, but the individual goals I set for myself were more important to me than medals and finishing stats.

After about forty-five minutes I climbed out of the pool, dried off a bit and wrapped my hair in my towel. I stretched out on the lounge chair for just a few minutes of sun. I was really careful with my skin because of my fair complexion, but the Vitamin D was so important to me. I ran my hand over my now-flat stomach, missing my little alien pod. It was so weird to be without it after all those months.

“I miss you, little alien,” I whispered and for the first time since I’d lost her, I didn’t feel the need to bawl my eyes out. It still hurt, but I wasn’t feeling so weighted down by my grief today. Maybe that had something to do with my Savior.

I went back up to my apartment and showered. When I came out and was lathering myself up with lotion, someone started banging on my door rhythmically. Maryland. I smiled.

“Baby, I dropped the kids off with Mike and we have the whole day. LET’S GO SHOPPING!!!”  

I hugged her and pressed my forehead against hers. “Thank you soooo much for taking that picture. Maybe I’ll make it my wallpaper!”

“I thought as much. He really is delish!” She hurried me to throw on some easily-removable clothes because ‘we might just try on the whole damn store! ‘  

We ended up hitting some of the discount stores and for a very little amount I bought a whole new wardrobe. When we got back, Maryland helped me box up all of my clothes that didn’t fit anymore. I dug through the back of my closet to make sure I hadn’t missed anything and I came across a plastic bag. In it was an outfit I had bought for Nancy. My stomach lurched and I carried it over to Maryland. She smiled sadly and hugged me tight. We both let a few tears fall before we got it together.

“Do you have any other memories of her? Your ultrasound pics or anything? Maybe we can put them in a nice box and put them away? You know, we never did have any sort of service, nor did we scatter her ashes. Have you thought about what you want to do?”  

I nodded and blew out a breath to calm myself. “I’ve thought about it. I’m just not ready yet, Maryland.”

Her ashes were in a small urn on a shelf in my closet. I didn’t have them out, staring me in the face anymore, but I didn’t know if I was ready to completely let them go.

“You know I’m here for you whenever you are ready. In the meantime, let’s get this stuff out of here!”  

We hugged again and then carried the boxes back down to the car. After we grabbed an early dinner, we took them, as well as my box of maternity clothes, to a donation center. By the time I got home I was beat. I’d glanced at my phone several times over the course of the evening and at bedtime. I let myself fall asleep thinking about seeing him again Wednesday. I had so many wonderings about him. Maybe I’d at least find out his name, but I’d probably always call him my Savior!

 

McShane

 

I managed to get through exactly six hours after leaving the hospital without my family seeing my injury. I went from the hospital to Schroeder’s, where I picked up a still-sleeping Peter. I dropped him back at the house and then went in early to work. Patrick came in when we opened at 10:00 and I drilled him about what happened the night before.

“No clue. We were over at Tina’s and then he left with Gretchen. I didn’t see him again. He texted me later and said he was going to the shop to look for you and I answered that you weren’t there but I never heard back.”

I had sent Mom a voicemail telling her where Peter and I were the night before. She was the least likely to flip out.

“I hope he’s ok,” I muttered. “I’m glad summer school is over or he’d be hurting right now.”

Patrick was helping me with a display and when I climbed up on the ladder and asked him for the hammer, he exclaimed, “What the fuck happened to your head?”  

“Pipe down,” I said, hoping our customers hadn’t overheard him. “I broke up a fight last night and got hit in the head with a beer bottle. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? Did you fuck anybody up?”  

I rolled my eyes. “No. I left that for the police. Now don’t go running your mouth about this. I don’t need to hear it from the grandmothers or Pops, you hear me?”  

He nodded and looked at it again. “Did you have to get stitches?”  

I nodded. “Yeah, like twelve or something.”

He smiled in approval. “That’s gonna leave one badass scar.”

I groaned. “Will you shut up about it and hand me the other end of that banner!”  

“Sure thing...Badass.”

And that was just the beginning. Of course he didn’t keep his mouth shut. As soon as we were done, he texted Peter, who told Pops, who told Mom and who then told the grandmothers. So when he and I went home for dinner, everyone made a huge fuss.

BOOK: The Rock Season
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