by Daisy Allen
“Party?” Ben asks, squirming in his seat trying to see out the window.
“You’ll see. Just be a good boy for the doctor and stay completely still.”
Ben spends the next ten minutes mesmerized by the saw cutting into his arm. And I’m mesmerized by the clown standing next to me.
***
“What are you doing here? And why are you wearing…that? And what are you doing here? And why are you a clown?” I ask, pulling him into a quiet part of the corridor.
“I’m going to need you to prioritize your questions, Ms. Journalist.”
“Okay, then, ‘why aren’t you kissing me again, you clown’ is my first one.”
“Well, I could answer that, or I could just show you.”
“Shut up and do it.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him hard before he can say another word.
“You’re getting white paint all over your face,” he laughs when we finally pull apart.
“I don’t care.”
I don’t care. I only care that Brad is here, and I’m in his arms, and nothing else matters.
“Next question…What are you doing here?”
“I came to see Ben.
“Oh.”
“And you.”
“Oh.” I don’t even care that it makes me grin like a loon.
“And to tell you that you can never leave my sight ever again.”
“Done,” I say, slipping my hand into his.
“And not to disagree—wait what?”
“I said, ‘done.’”
“Well…now you’ve ruined the rest of my speech. The one time I’m prepared for your stubbornness and you thwart my good deed!” He pouts.
“Oops, sorry. I mean ‘NO!’”
“That’s better. The rest of my speech goes something like this: You can’t leave because…because I told you I would protect you and Ben forever, and I’m sorry it took so long, but I’m new to this. I’ll get better.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t have to work for Silas anymore. I know all about it. But you don’t. He can’t blackmail you anymore.”
“Wha? How?”
He hands me a stack of paper. I can’t focus on all of them—just the few words ‘Give up all rights as biological father to Ben Butter.’ I look up, mouth open.
“How…How did you get him to do this?”
“It doesn’t matter. I did. And now I want you to consider signing this form.” He hands me another contract. My eyes can barely focus through the tears.
“What is it?”
“Read it.”
They’re adoption papers. For Brad to adopt Ben. To make him his.
“Oh my God. Brad. No.”
“Oh.” His entire face falls in an instant, and it pulls my heart with it.
“No, I mean…have you really thought about this? What if you want to have your own child one day?”
“I hope I will, and not my own, our own. From this moment on, we’re going to be a family, Butter. Like we were always meant to be, and Ben is going to be my child, in my heart, in his, and on paper.”
“This is the weirdest proposal ever,” I blurt out, trying to process everything. The relief, excitement, the emotions.
“Oh whoa, wait, I wasn’t proposing!” Ben clarifies, and my ears roar with disappointment, and I turn away to hide the blush rising up my cheeks. Had I misunderstood everything he’d said?
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
I turn around and my clown is on his knees.
“Now I’m proposing.”
“And now I’m saying yes!”
Brad jumps to his clown feet and picks me up, and my hair falls down around us, just like it always did. And I kiss him, and it’s perfect, just like it always was.
There’s a giant cheer and Jez, Marius, Sebastian, and Cadence come barreling around the corner, knocking us over in hugs. I barely have time to register that the rest of the band are in clown costumes, too.
All I know is that everything is finally as it’s meant to be.
Epilogue
Emily
“Another bucket of chicken wings, please,” Brad tells the waitress, “and please ask the cook to make these ones extra spicy—like my girl here. Since she’ll be the one eating them all anyway.”
He ducks as a chicken bone comes flying at his head.
“When does this thing start anyway?” Marius sits down, a beer in each hand.
“It’s been on all day, willy-wanker. We just wanted to watch the headline act.”
“Hey, you never told me, how did your label react to you guys pulling out?” I ask them.
“EMILY! A lady shouldn’t ask such questions,” Jez jokes, batting his eyelashes.
A chicken bone goes flying in Jez’s direction as well.
“You know what I mean, perv-pucker. They can’t have been happy that you pulled out of the festival.”
“Yeah, they weren’t. But let’s just say we promised we’d do whatever we had to to win another Grammy this year.”
“But your album’s already out now,” I say, confused.
“Yeah, I said we promised. I didn’t say we’d actually do anything.”
“Well, whatever happens, I can’t thank you guys enough. You…we both can’t thank you enough,” I say, reaching over and giving Jez a pat on his shoulder.
“What about me?” Brad pipes up.
“Okay, we three can’t thank you enough.”
“Ah,” Jez bats me away, “don’t mention it. You’re family.”
“And when Jez needs a new liver, it’s family we’ll be calling upon,” Cadence giggles.
“Oh hey, look, it’s starting.”
“How did they get Radiohead to reunite to headline the RockFever Fest?”
“I don’t know,” Sebastian shrugs and reaches over for a bite of my burger. “Maybe they had nothing to do.”
“Did you ever hear from Silas?” Cadence leans over and asks me.
“No. Just through the grapevine that after those pictures were released the festival’s organizers dropped them like hotcakes. Obviously knowing the music industry, the festival had a morals clause in the contract, and well, these days, no one really wants that kind of publicity. I can’t imagine how they must be feeling.” And frankly, nor do I care.
“And you? What about him and Ben?”
“He’ll calm down. I don’t want to ban him from seeing Ben. I won’t let him alone with him until he can prove he can be trusted. But he’s Ben’s biological dad and I know he loves him, as much as he can love anyone I guess. And a kid can use as many people to love him as possible.”
“Hear, hear,” Cadence replies and clinks her glass against mine.
“So, Mrs. Almost-Windsor, where do you think we should have this wedding?” Brad slides in next to me and whispers into my ear, his lips tickling my neck.
I lean into him, still not used to being able to reach out and touch him. “I dunno, maybe on a nice little cliff in Scotland somewhere.”
“That sounds like the perfect place to me too,” he sighs and kisses me.
“Hey! Maybe we can have a double wedding!” Sebastian suggests, and is rewarded with a horrified look from his fiancée.
“You have no idea about women! No woman wants to be the center of attention only to look out the corner of her eyes and see another woman in a wedding dress parading about!” Cadence explains, her arms in orchestra teacher mode, waving around, furiously.
“Wha? I thought it’d be fun. I mean we have the same guests, we can save money on you know… jalapeno poppers and stuff.”
Cadence turns to me, the horrified look on her face growing.
“JALAPENO POPPERS?” she yells.
Her fiancé grins at her. “Yeah, and then maybe we can just rent out a giant double king suite and all hang out together on our wedding night.”
The last thing I remember is a crash as I see Sebastian fall to the ground, hi
s chair toppled over by his soon-to-be wife, and a bucket of barbecue sauce tipped over his head.
~*~
SERENADE ME
A ROCK CHAMBER BOYS NOVEL
~*~
Written by
Daisy Allen
Copyright © 2018 Daisy Allen
Serenade Me: A Rock Chamber Boys Novel
By Daisy Allen
All rights reserved.
This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the properties of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
For Rick –
who serenades me with Dad jokes
and pedantic puns that keep me on my feet.
And is the music of my days.
Prologue
I always knew he’d come for me.
I waited.
Fearful that he wouldn’t
Fearful that he would.
And now he’s here.
To collect.
But I’m all out of pain to pay.
And there’s no currency in joy.
Chapter One
Marius
“Ohhhhhmmmmm. Ohhhmmmm. Feel the air pass through every portal of your body, collecting the toxins and negativity, and then slowly release them in a long slow exhale. Ohhhmmm.”
“Ohhhhm. Ohhhmmmm,” I chant along with the recording, taking a long deep breath, feeling the air fill my lungs and then slowly breathe out.
In the back of my mind I hear the sound of footsteps, but I ignore them, trying to concentrate on my morning meditation.
“Ooogey boogey woogeeey,” speaks up a familiar, decidedly non-meditative voice. “Feel the rotten egg smell pass through me and into Marius’ nostrils.”
My serenity vanishes in a second and I snap my eyes open, only to see two perfectly round, bright blue pupils, barely two inches from my face.
“AHHHHHH!” I scream, jumping to my feet and taking five steps back, tripping over the coffee table and ending up in an awkward somersault, head over heels, crashing against the base of one of the leather recliners.
“Bloody Titbiscuit!!!” I yell at Jez, my band mate, glaring at him as I rub the back of my neck.
“’Titbiscuit’?!” Sebastian, our band’s other cellist, repeats. It sounds even more ridiculous in his French accent. “That’s a new one, any other pastry themed nicknames you want to teach me before Cadence leaves? “Honey” and “Sweetie” are getting old.”
“Honeysweetums, I call you other things as well,” Cadey, his fiancée, clarifies while winking at him.
“Yes, but nothing the boys can hear, Sugarcakes,” Seb gushes, returning the wink and reaching out his hand to her.
“Well, we hear you calling her ‘the ol’ ball and chain’ all the time,” Brad, our violinist, contributes, returning Seb’s glare with a wide, innocent smile.
“Oh, you do, do you?” Cadey turns to her fiancé who starts to squirm in his seat. “Let me tell you then, there won’t be any sort of ball action going on tonight, my love.”
“Thanks, fuckers! She’s leaving in a few days, too.” He throws his fiancée a pitiful look and she only grins in reply before straddling him and giving him a deep kiss.
“Ugh, guys. Gross.” I scrunch up my face at their public display of affection. “Some of us are still digesting our lunch, you know.”
“Your body’s not digesting that vegan not-dog you had, it’s trying to propel it from your stomach,” Brad says, chewing on a stick of beef jerky, then opening his mouth to display the masticated contents to me.
“Hey, my body’s a temple,” I tell him, pulling my sleeve up and flexing my bicep.
“That’s where you’re going wrong, what you want is for your body to be a liquor store. Six-packs galore, baby.” Jez pulls his t-shirt up and pats his bare stomach. I have to admit, his symmetrical lines of rippling muscles look good. I wonder, not for the first time, where all the beer and chicken wings he inhales goes. Even cutting meat out of my diet, I have to work twice as hard to keep myself in shape.
I grab the remote and shut off the meditation YouTube video still playing on the TV.
“Hey,” I say to Brad, trying to get his attention. I roll my eyes and gesture to the loved-up scene on the couch, Cadence in Sebastian’s lap and their foreheads pressed against each other’s.
“What?” Brad asks, his mouth still full of cured meatstick.
I frown at his response. I’d expected him to make a loud gagging noise, but then I remember. “Oh, yeah, I forgot, you’re one of THEM now,” referring to his recent engagement to his high school sweetheart, Emily.
Brad grins and shrugs. “What can I say, when it’s love, it’s love.” He comes over and nudges my shoulder. “Or in your case, ‘love-love’ as in big ol’ noughts when it comes to wins against women. I mean, have you ever even had a relationship that lasted longer than a plane ride?”
I elbow him back and he squeals in mock pain. “Hey! I’m looking for spiritual connections, okay? It’s not just about bra-size and skirt length for me, like for you manslutsticles”
“I’m pretty sure Jez is the only “Slutsticle” around here these days.” Sebastian grins at his fellow cellist bandmate who bows at the accolade.
“Someone’s gotta do your dirty work, boys. You think our fans like that you two are strapped into chastity belts now? Gotta take care of the fans that got us here.”
“Speaking of chastity belts. Hey, Cadence…?”
“Whoa, flattering segue. Thanks, Marius,” Cadence snorts.
I wink at her and she rolls her eyes before I continue. “Cadence, are you really going to leave us in the lurch?”
Her face falls when I ask the question and I almost wish I hadn’t said it. I hate to make her feel bad. Before we’d lured her to come on our European CD launch tour with us, Cadence was a high school music teacher in Sydney, Australia. She’d always made it clear that come the school year, she’d be going to go back, leaving us without a pianist for the French leg of our tour.
“I’m sorry, babe, the school year starts up in Australia, and well, some of these kids are coming into their senior year. They’re going to need a lot of support and I just can’t abandon them after working with them all these years. I guess… maybe I can organize to come for some of the weekend shows? And take a few days off, here and there? I mean, the tour’s only got about a month left, right?
She looks at Seb who just shrugs. I know if he could, he’d be begging her to stay. For him as much as for the band. And the fans. She’s easily been the favorite of all the guest musicians that have played with us.
But it’s obvious she doesn’t want to leave her students. And I wouldn’t want her to. As much as she’s been a big sister to me while she’s been with us, as much as she and I have formed a pretty special bond, I wouldn’t want to take her away from what gives her the most joy, just as I wouldn’t want anyone to do that to me, or any of us for that matter.
“We’re really going to miss you,” I say, as I walk over to her. She climbs off her fiancé’s lap and pulls me into a big hug.
“I know. I’m going to miss your dumb-ass, smug faces and your brilliant music and your weird looking brown salads and late nights and early mornings and finding bras that aren’t my own in my laundry and…BED…” She turns and scowls at Jez who just grins.
“Speaking of other women,” Jez says as he pulls Cadence from my hug and slings his own arm tight around her shoulders, before pulling back when Sebastian growls, “I think I know someone who might just be able to take Cadence’s spot.”
“Who?” Brad asks, pouring himself a drink from t
he bar.
“Hang on, I have to ask one question first – Cadey, are you absolutely sure you’re not going to stay? Because I wouldn’t even dream of suggesting this if there was the tiniest chance you could come with us. You know that.”
She smiles at him and kisses him on the cheek, then rubs the lipstick stain off his skin. “Hey, I’m just the hired hand here. Well, hired hands.” She wiggles her fingers at us. “If you can get someone to come help out that you’re happy with, then I can go guilt free.”
“No one can replace you, Cadey,” I say, not sure if I’m ready to hear what Jez has to say. We’re a tight knit group, always have been. Infamous for our cliquishness. It’s taken some very special people for them to be accepted by us. We’ve been through too much, betrayed by too many on our journey to stardom, to trust just anyone.
Jez looks at me, knows what I’m thinking, and lays a hand on my shoulder before continuing. He knows, he knows that I might not say it, but after him, I’m the one who has the most trouble trusting.
“Look, if… IF we were to find someone to take over Cadey’s part, she’d have to be a freakin’ insane musician, right? Top of the bloody game. And she’d have to be discreet. Work hard, work long, not be a bloody diva on tour. And she’d have to available, obviously.”
We all nod, wondering where he’s going with all this.
Jez continues, “Well, I think I know someone who might just tick all those boxes. She’s just graduated from the London College of Music, she doesn’t have a lot of experience playing non-classical music, but there’s no reason why she couldn’t pick it up pretty quickly. She’s totally grounded and won’t let the attention get to her. And best of all, she can be here… tomorrow. Meaning, she can meet with everyone and can get some rehearsal in with Cadence before she goes back to Sydney.”
He stops, looking at all of us in turn, gauging our reactions.
