The Rock Season

by R. L. Merrill

  The day after the Killers show, I sat down with Mom and asked her about pre-eclampsia. She explained to me it was brought on by the mother’s high blood pressure and that it caused the placenta to stop working properly. I explained why I was asking and her hand flew to her chest.

  “That poor girl! I’ve miscarried before and that was terrible enough.”

  Startled, I reached for her hand. “Mom, no! When did that happen?”

  She smiled at me and ran her hand over my cheek. “Oh, son, I’m sorry I never told you. It was before I became pregnant with you. Your father and I desperately wanted children. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves. That may have caused it. Perhaps this young lady was under a lot of stress?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. She said she’s not ready to talk about it so I don’t want to scare her off.”

  Mom nodded and thought for a moment before she spoke. “Aaron, I don’t want to discourage you, but if she is grieving the loss of a child, she may not be in any place to start a relationship with you. Can you accept that? For her?”

  “Of course! I just want to know her. I wouldn’t care if I never touched her as long as I could just talk to her, look at her. She’s so beautiful, Mom.”

  My mother smiled and her eyes got teary. “I only hope that this one appreciates my wonderful son. Come here and hug your mother,” she said as the tears spilled from her eyes.

  I hurried to her side and knelt before her. “Mom, what is it?”

  She tried to wave away my concern, but I could see something else was bothering her. “You are too good at reading me, son. I’m sorry. I’m just thinking how wonderful you are, how like your father.” The sad look on her face told me what was wrong.

  “He went back to the doctor,” I started and she nodded, sighing heavily.

  “They’re afraid the cancer may be back. He needs more tests this week and next.”

  “Done, Mom. I’ll take him. You don’t need to worry.”

  She nodded. “I know you will, Son. I’m just so afraid. I know I have you to lean on and you’ve been so good with your brothers, but I’m not ready to lose your father, Ali Salaam. I love him so much. We have so much life to live yet together.”

  My heart was aching for my mother and father. I knew part of the reason they had so much life to live together still was somewhat because of the birth of my brothers. I had just graduated from high school when she found out she was expecting twins. It put a lot of strain on her. She thought she was done raising children and now here she was with teenagers again! She and my father should be enjoying retirement together. Instead, she was working full time and then some, helping women and children who suffered from abuse navigate the legal system and start new lives. She was so important to so many people. She just wanted more time with my father.

  “You will have that time together, Mom. Somehow. Let’s just hear what the doctors have to say.”

  She sniffled and I handed her a tissue. She took a few shaky breaths and I did the same. As much as she wasn’t ready to lose Pops, I wasn’t either. He was my idol, not to mention I wasn’t ready to take over completely being the man of this family.

  Thankfully the doctor’s visits were positive. The oncologist said he just needed more time to heal from the chemo and that there were no more signs of cancer. We all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

  The Heart show was a week away. In the meantime, I had to work a Kid Rock show, which was obnoxiously rowdy, and a Country Music Festival. Schroeder and I went through a bunch of our vinyl at the store to put on our online auction. I took the twins to get school clothes and we went with Pops to a Giants game to celebrate their 17th birthdays. We tried to go to a game for their birthday every year. We took the ferry from Alameda and Pops had a great time, even if he was really wiped out by the experience. The twins were really concerned watching him walk up the steps. I tried to reassure them that he would get better, but they were really troubled by it. I wasn’t surprised when they burst into my apartment that night, without knocking of course, while I was working out.

  “Aaron, can we talk to you?”

  I sat up on my weight bench and wiped the sweat off my dome with my t-shirt. Lifting weights and working off my frustrations on the heavy bag nightly kept me sane.

  “What’s up,” I asked them, preparing myself for their questions.

  Patrick spoke up while Peter chewed on a fingernail. “We just wanted to know about Pops. Is he going to get better?”

  I stood up to grab some water and gestured for them to sit on the couch. They sat side by side, looking miserable.

  “He is better. He’ll get better. The chemo just took a lot out of him and it’s going to take a while before he gets his stamina back. That’s why I’ve been walking with him. Most men fully recover from prostate cancer. I’m taking him to the doctor Monday for them to run some more tests and we’ll see. The last visit was fine so we’ll just keep praying.”

  Neither of them looked pleased with my answer. Peter looked up at me and I could see tears in his eyes. “Is he going to die, Aaron?”

  It was a double-edged sword in the gut. How did I prepare them for the very real possibility that they wouldn’t have much longer with Pops and also encourage them to be hopeful and strong?

  “He will, someday, but I have faith that it won’t be anytime soon. I know it seems bad, but that’s just because we’re so used to seeing him as a tough guy, fixing shit around here, working for the city.”

  Patrick snorted. “Yeah, and he used to be able to bench press a helluva lot more than you.”

  I laughed and wiped my sweat off again. “He’s a strong man, which will help him. For now, you little shits will have to accept that I can bench press the most in this house.”

  Their shouts of disbelief grew louder and soon they were ripping their shirts off and taking turns with my weights. Their swimmer physiques were a little more muscular than the usual 17-year-old boy because they liked to mess around with my weights. Peter topped out at 175 lbs and Patrick was able to hit 190. They bitched and whined when they watched me lift 275 for my last set.

  “Damn, asshole! I guess I’d be ripped like that, too, if all I did was sit around my apartment instead of going out and getting laid.”

  I shook my head. “You know what, Patrick? I can’t wait for you to find a girl who can knock you on your ass with just one word. The smell of her just sucks all of the oxygen out of your brain and you can’t speak. And when you find the right one, you’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.”

  I noticed Peter, grinning out of the corner of my eye.

  Patrick looked back and forth between us. “Both of you are pussies!”

  That comment pissed me off. “Patrick, you better fucking have more respect for your brothers and you damn sure better be more respectful to the girls you are dating. You may think it’s all fun and games, but did you ever think about how she might feel once you’ve messed around with her? I guarantee most teenaged girls don’t have sex with boys because they are enjoying it. For one, you barely know what the hell you are doing and number two, it’s a hell of a lot more invasive and scary for a girl. And if you do find a girl who acts like she’s enjoying it, she’s probably a fucking mess because of some asshole who came before you. So just keep that in mind the next time you call someone a pussy for actually giving a shit what their partner thinks and feels. Trust me. Sex is much better when it’s mutually enjoyable.”

  Patrick was scowling at me. “How the hell do you know so much about it? You never seem to be with a woman for long. You never bring them around here.”

  Peter laughed. “That’s because he knows better than to bring them around here. You should hear Grandma Samadi getting after him about great grandbabies.”

  He shook himself and I laughed. “I’ve had a few relationships, but the older I get, it’s harder to find someone who wants the same things I want. The last girl I dated ended up fucking someone else because I was ‘spending too much tim
e with my family’.” Their faces fell and I knew I’d struck a nerve.

  “That’s bullshit! Didn’t she know about Pops?” Patrick’s face turned red at that statement.

  I nodded and said, “Some people only care about themselves. I don’t want that for you.”

  Peter was sitting on the arm of the couch and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Aaron you do more for everyone else than you do for yourself. You deserve someone who takes care of you for once.”

  My little brother’s words warmed my heart. I hugged them both, taking care to get them as sweaty as possible. They slugged at me in return and I kicked them out before we started really brawling.

  I took a hot shower, my muscles still shaking a little from my workout, my hands shaking from thoughts of my Pops, my breathing shaky from thinking about Stevie. But then I smiled. Only one more night to go and then I’d see her. My body instantly warmed to the idea of being close to her again. When she rested her head on my shoulder, I wanted to pull her in and hold her close, offer her comfort. I just really didn’t want to blow this with her by getting too hot and heavy. I’d have to save the hot and heavy for times like these. In the shower. By myself. Thinking of her.

  Chapter Nine

  Stevie

  “I’m trying to get the girls’ stuff packed right now. MIKE! Can you please grab the laundry out of the dryer? I think Serena’s blankie is in there and she won’t leave without it.”

  I heard him holler something back.

  “They’re yours! You left them here last weekend, REMEMBER?”

  I heard him chuckle over the evidence of their consorting he’d left behind.

  “That’s right! Now where was I...Oh, yes, miss baby girl! I am going to text you Aaron’s number so you can text him directly. I probably won’t have service in Alaska to be your go-between.”

  “I guess not. Thanks. For everything. I don’t know how I would have gotten through this...”

  She pulled me in for a hug at her doorway. I’d stopped by to see her before she left tomorrow. I was a little afraid for her to be gone, but I made sure I put on my big girl panties this morning. Well, at least the lacy ones with the satin ribbon. They made me feel better! It’s not like anyone else was going to see them!

  She pulled out her phone, made a stern mommy face and snapped a picture, then texted it to Aaron with the caption “You better take care of my girl!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Niiiice. Now you didn’t specify how he’s supposed to take care of me.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her and she slapped my ass.

  “Oooo, you bad girl! Seriously, though. Do you think you’re ready for that?” I shrugged. She raised an eyebrow. “Did you take any precautions?”

  “At my last visit to the ob/gyn she talked me into taking the Depo shot. It’s working great, I barely get a period.”

  She nodded and I knew she wanted more info.

  “I don’t know if I’m ready for that. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had sex, Maryland! I don’t even know what to do anymore.”

  Her sly smile had me giggling. “I think he’ll know what to do. But hey, only if you feel comfortable, ok? And you’ll have to hit me on Facebook. Private message me with the details.”

  “I will. Be safe and let me know when you get there!”

  Maryland called the girls to the door to give me hugs and I waved goodbye, my heart feeling a little sad. Maryland was my rock. I knew I’d survive without her and I was grateful for the Internet, but this was weird. And I’d never gone to a concert alone before. I didn’t mind it, actually. It was going to be emotional for me to see Heart again. So many memories of my parents, my childhood, and my Nancy. I smiled. Today’s cry was very slight. I was singing along to ‘Love Me Like Music’ and stopped to touch my non-existent belly. Instead of feeling hollow, I felt grateful that I’d had the experience.

  The show was tomorrow and I still needed to go home and write on my blog. I figured now I was ready to tell my tale.

  For those who don’t know me, I was gearing up to be a mom this summer when the Fates decided that wasn’t to be my destiny. My baby girl was stillborn in May and I was devastated. I didn’t think I’d ever climb out of the grey and back into the light. But just as it has always done, music stepped in and soothed me. I’ve been to two shows since I’ve been back on my feet and they were both very moving experiences.

  Tomorrow night will be different for me. I’m going to see Heart, whom I have many personal connections to. My parents named me after the sisters (middle name is Nann), and my first concert experience was seeing Heart with my parents when I was a little girl. I remember my parents holding onto each other and singing to all of Heart’s songs. My mother told me one day I could grow up to play like Nancy and sing like Anne. Unfortunately for her, I’m kind of tone deaf and I really struggled with playing guitar. My fingers and the frets didn’t get along. But every time I hear one of their songs, it takes me back to those innocence-filled days. Before my parents died, before my child died. I named her Nancy, by the way. Nancy Ann.

  I have new memories to make this time. I’ve potentially found a new concert buddy and I am determined to continue to find peace in the music. I’ll post my review for you all when it’s over. Good night!

  Sleep didn’t come easy that night before. I prattled around all day trying to stay busy so I wouldn’t fixate on seeing Aaron again. That didn’t help when around 3:00, in the afternoon, he texted me a picture of what looked like a work schedule. It listed a bunch of positions and then I saw his name highlighted:

  McShane: Artist Entrance and Backstage.

  I giggled to myself and felt my cheeks getting hot. I texted back:

  How did you get this number? Do you have the proper security clearance?

  I received his answer very soon after.

  Maryland must have thought you wouldn’t use mine. At least that’s what she said she was afraid of. I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just wondered if you might want to keep me company for part of the evening? I might be able to sneak off and watch Heart with you. If you don’t mind.

  Maryland. Of course. Keep him company backstage? Oh, that would be terrible! In all the shows I’d ever been to, I’d never been backstage.

  I don’t know. How can you be sure I won’t accost anyone backstage? Maybe I’m a crazy fan. I might not be trustworthy.

  Why was I flirting with him? I felt out of control. It was fun, but scary. I didn’t want to get out of my comfort zone and not be able to go back. I just wasn’t sure I could be trusted yet. His answer came five minutes later.

  I’m a highly trained security officer. I think I can handle any potential security breaches. I am curious, though. If I were thinking of changing careers to a ‘concert buddy’ position, could you tell me what the job description entails?

  “Whoa,” I said to myself. This was it. I was pretty sure he was asking me what I was comfortable with. He was too good to be true!

  I don’t have an official job description to share, but your duties would include: enjoying a wide variety of music, searching out excellent specimens for people-watching, making food and drink runs on a rotation basis at shows with General Admission, staying until the house lights come on (traffic be damned! ), and never leaving a fallen concert buddy behind (fallen can describe anything from drunk and being stupid, to unwanted attention from the opposite sex that becomes too difficult to do away with on one’s own). Oh! And you must be willing to dance and sing with abandon no matter who is on stage! No snobbery allowed. Think you can handle it?

  I decided to get ready while I waited for his response. I showered and dressed in one of my mother’s old hippie dresses. It was a tank-styled sundress with patchwork and batiked panels in greys, blues and purples. It had a twirly skirt and I felt really feminine wearing it. I didn’t have one specific style, my clothes had to fit my mood, and tonight, I wanted to feel soft and pretty. I’m sure that had everything to do with my potential new concert buddy. Speaking of which,
his response:

  Sounds like a dream job to me. Can we add a couple of duties, for both of us? How about always being honest? Like if the concert buddy were to bring you a regular Coke and you wanted Diet, not saying “Oh, it’s ok, I don’t mind.” Or if for any reason the concert buddy says or does something that makes you uncomfortable, that you tell him right away? It’s important to have open communication for any working relationship to succeed, don’t you think?

  Oh my sweet, sensitive eyes do deceive me! Could he be real? I hurried to finish my makeup and messy bun and tapped back a response.

  I am agreeable to your additions as long as you can be agreeable to one further stipulation? It’s important to always be understanding and patient with your concert buddy. She very much wants a successful working relationship, but is pretty rusty and...Well, yeah. That’s all. Just be patient? I’m leaving here in about 15 minutes. Do you think Security will bust me for sneaking in some breath mints? I know the sign says no outside food or drink, but do breath mints really count as a food? I’m just asking. I thought maybe you might have some experience with this. See you in a bit.

  I giggled to myself, pleased to be leaving things on a lighter note. I had high hopes for this night, that I would get to know more about him and hopefully chip away at this fear I had about getting involved with someone. Because something told me Aaron just might be the kind of man I could safely get involved with.

  I checked my phone one last time before pulling out of my lot.

  Breath mints definitely are not a food and will not cause Security to frown. They are a personal hygiene item and therefore perfectly acceptable. Just out of curiosity, where are you driving from? Just want to see how much longer I have to wait to see you again.