In Harmony

by JN Welsh

  A figure blocked the sunrays. “Hey,” Nyah complained.

  “Okay, baby girl. You can’t hide here forever,” her father said. Had she spoken her thoughts out loud?

  “I’m not hiding.” She squinted up at him and the doubt wrinkling the age lines on his face. “Okay. Maybe I’m hiding.”

  “You look like you’ve been through the wringer,” her father said. “You said you were having a tough time, but I guess I didn’t expect you to actually look like it.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  Her father always had a little difficulty navigating his way to a nurturing center when she was visibly upset, but he eventually got there. Nyah didn’t know how long she’d be able to hold it together before she completely unraveled and bawled her eyes out some more over losing someone she’d finally loved hard enough to make her this discombobulated.

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “She cleans the kitchen at the homeless shelter downtown today. Remember? She’ll be home soon.”

  “It’s Thursday, already?

  Her father nodded solemnly.

  “I lost track of the days.”

  He offered her his hand. “You want me to make you some tea, like Mom makes, and we can talk about it?”

  “You’re going to have to give me something more hardcore than tea, Dad.” She grasped his hand and eased off the lounge chair.

  “That bad, huh?” her father asked as he pulled her up by the hand, then they headed to the bar.

  “You have no idea. It’s a shit show,” she mumbled.

  “Sounds like a job for...” He evaluated her for a moment. “Cognac?”

  She smiled. “Double.”

  Her father raised his eyebrows at her.

  She told him everything from start to finish. He hugged her shaking shoulders when she sobbed and choked on her alcohol and handed her a napkin when her runny nose dripped to her chin.

  “You and Tommy do a piss-poor job at hiding your love for one another. Mom and I got a kick out of how you both were running around like headless chickens trying to look all professional when we showed up. We’ve been around the block,” he said. “A couple times.”

  “Dad, I hid my whole DJ career from you and that’s what you focus on?”

  “Baby girl, you grew up in a house with a DJ. I heard you spin music night and day when we lived in New York, as well as when we moved here. When you wanted to get on the scene, I knew your mixed tapes back and forth because you were following in my footsteps. Do you really think that when buzz about Queen Roe started floating in the underground that your dear ol’ dad didn’t recognize our sound? I knew, Nyah. I’ve always known, but you needed to do this your way and if that meant breaking ties from me to do it, then that’s what you needed to do.”

  “What?” Nyah yelled as tears streamed down her face. “Dad...” She squeezed him so tight she felt his bones. She felt so small, like his little girl, and found comfort and protection in his arms. “I’m sorry. You must hate me for denying you.”

  “Hate you? Nyah, you’re my one and only baby girl. You had to do this your way. I mean it when I say I’m proud of you. You’re really good, sweetheart, so innovative. I know you want to keep a low profile and still pursue your love of classical music, and that’s okay, too. This is your life. You have to live it on your own terms.”

  She sniffled in his shoulder and nodded.

  “The bigger question is, what are you going to do about Tommy? He betrayed you and if I didn’t know him and his character, I’d say good riddance.”

  “Are you taking his side?”

  “Not really. I’m thinking of you both. I’m not going to sugarcoat this, baby girl. Relationships are hard and a ton of work. If you really love him, you owe it to both of you to at least talk again with cooler heads. He’s an ambitious guy, but a decent one who made a mistake. Do you think you have another chance for him somewhere inside you? If not, call it quits and move on, but if a little part of you thinks that you both can save this with some elbow grease, then don’t hesitate to try again.”

  She clutched her chest. “I want to, Dad. I just... He hurt me, but I hurt him, too. I walked away and that’s a big deal for him. We messed it all up.”

  Her father sipped his drink. “The good thing about a mess is that you can always break out the supplies and clean it all up, one spot at a time.”

  Nyah had been running from the shadow of her phenomenal dad for so long that she’d forgotten just how awesome he was. “What would I do without you, Dad?”

  “You’d have figured it out without me, sweetheart. It just might have taken you a little longer.”

  “I want to play with you,” she blurted.

  Her father shook his head. “You don’t have to. You’re upset and emotionally drained.”

  “No, Dad. I do. I want to play at Sunburst with you. Before, when that whole thing happened when I performed, and Carlo... I know he handled your career great but he really dropped the ball with me, Dad. I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “I know. You were really trying to carve out your own space, but I found out and I let him have it for that. I know he wanted to make things right...tried to, but it was too late.”

  “I’d bailed by then.” She wiped her nose. “I’ve always been really proud of you, Dad. You’re my role model and I love you.”

  “I love you too, Queen.” They hugged again.

  Nyah wiped her face. “Okay, give me the details.”

  Her mother came in shortly after and collected Nyah in her arms. The combination of ammonia and kitchen grease emanated from Eva Monroe’s clothes. “Your eyes are red. What happened? Did you two have a fight?” Her mother frowned.

  “No, baby. Quite the opposite,” her father assured her mother.

  Her mother slapped down her bag on the bar. “Okay, you two. Fill me in on everything, right now.”

  * * *

  Carlo Hutton stopped by her parents’ home for drinks with her father. Nyah’d had plans to reach out to Carlo by phone but when she saw his dark hair and matching linen top and bottoms with loafers she’d realized how much she’d grown and how much he appeared to have not. It was like she was a teenager again but instead of looking at Carlo as the one to make her great, she pitied him for missing out on a really talented artist.

  “Hey, Carlo,” she greeted him as she poured herself a margarita from a sweating pitcher.

  “Hey, kiddo.” He leapt to his feet and kissed her cheek. “It’s nice to see you. How are things going in New York?”

  Nyah glanced at her father. “Does he know?” she asked. She air drew makeup on her face.

  Her father shook his head.

  “I’ll give you two a minute,” her father said and disappeared.

  Carlo took a sip of his drink, a clear liquid with ice. “It’s been a few years.”

  “Yeah, it has been. How have you been?” She forced the formalities like one did with a relative they weren’t close to anymore but had blood ties with. She didn’t have blood ties with Carlo but he was family.

  “Dad told me about Sunburst.”

  “Yeah. They’re doing a tribute to your father. I know you love your dad and appreciate his contributions to the music industry. His influence has trickled down to you. I know you’re focused on classical.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Pete still keeps me up to date and is excited about your acceptance to the London Symphony. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.” She smiled at how tight she held her cards. Was this what it felt like to truly have the upper hand?

  Carlo scratched the day-old hair on his chin. “Though you rest in the classical space, it would be great to have you there, Nyah. Pete wants you to play but I know that’s a long shot.”

  She kept silent and took a long slow drink of her margarita.


  “I think I had a hand in that,” Carlo confessed, and she nearly choked on the liquid in her throat.

  “Wow.” She coughed in a fisted hand to clear her throat. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Maybe, but I didn’t do right by you. I watched you grow up and there may have been a great opportunity to develop you as an artist but I’d been only focused on your dad and making him great. I thought you’d take that Mills kid as your agent and, well, when you didn’t... You just weren’t in my cards, kiddo, and I should have just told you instead of doing such a piss-poor job for you.”

  She stared at Carlo. Had she expected an apology she might not have been so shocked. At best she’d wanted to clear the air enough to communicate to Carlo what she wanted to do for her father. What she experienced now was way more than a resolution; this was therapeutic.

  She blinked her blurry eyes. She hadn’t made it all up. She’d been right and him voicing it lifted an anvil off her chest that had been pressing her down, and she finally breathed away the past. “Thanks for saying all that, Carlo,” she said simply.

  He nodded. “I owe you,” he said. “Anyway, like I was saying, even if you don’t want to try to put a DJ set together and perform, it would be a really nice moment if you introduced him.”

  She hadn’t come out as Queen Roe and now that she had a better understanding of who she was and why she wanted the things she did, she didn’t feel like she was competing with her dad anymore. Part of her conversation with Tommy, when they’d had dinner together on the cruise, popped into her head.

  “I don’t know how revealing Queen Roe will impact my classical career and that is still very important to me. I also don’t know if I can manage both if I got too big. I’d lose control over, well, everything,”

  “You can’t know unless you put yourself out there, Queen.”

  She was no longer hiding from her legacy as Pete Monroe’s daughter. She’d claimed her own personal throne as Queen Roe with the help of Nyah Monroe, and in this moment the two merged together and she embraced who she was with open arms.

  “Actually, Carlo, I have my own ideas about how I want to participate in Dad’s ceremony if you’re willing to listen to a little story.”

  Carlo gave her a thick brow that barely arched. “Am I going to like this story?”

  “I ten out of ten recommend.”

  “Okay, kiddo. Shoot.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Tommy’s footsteps were heavy as he walked a plank right into the sea of career sabotage. He hated having to do this but the guilt tore through him like a flesh-eating disease, ugly and painful. As much as he hated having to have this meeting with Herman, he still had integrity. Integrity he should have had with Nyah.

  We’re done. Nyah’s words echoed through him. What a fool he had been. This wasn’t who he was. And having finally found someone he cared for more than himself was evidence enough that he loved her. Yet, he’d gone against her will for his own benefit.

  He pulled his slumping shoulders back enough to be presentable to his longtime associate.

  “You look fucking ghastly, man,” Herman said when he saw him. “You all right?”

  Tommy ignored Herman’s evaluation and jumped into the deep end of a broken glass-filled pool, from which he would likely come out battered and bruised. “I got some bad news for you, Herman. Queen Roe won’t be performing at Sunburst this year, or any year for that matter.”

  “Today is bad joke day, or what?” Herman asked.

  “I’m serious. I’m pulling her,” Tommy said.

  “We’ve been promoting her as one of our key artists that fans are dying to see. A lot of marketing dollars have been directed toward advertising her,” Herman complained.

  “Both you and I know that what has been done can be redirected. You want me to front money? I will, but she’s out.”

  “What the fuck, Tommy? I finally accept one of your clients, because our shit finally lined up, and this is the thanks I get.”

  “Look, I did my client a disservice by even agreeing to put her on the bill. She never wanted this. I did. Now I’ve lost her as a client and...” He rubbed his face. “She’s not performing.”

  “You know that we’ve got some new investors and even though we still have some creative control, the organizers are looking at who they can count on. I told them you could deliver. You have a rep, man. You gonna jeopardize that?”

  “I’m well aware that what I’m doing could tarnish the name I worked hard to make for myself. When people heard Boombox, they knew they could count on me to present talented artists, make sound business deals, and make decisions based on expansive industry knowledge. If pulling out one of my artists from Sunburst ruins me, then my career was never shit to begin with.” Tommy leaned against the wall.

  Herman rubbed his sweaty forehead. “It’s gonna be impossible for us to book someone at this late date.”

  “You’re talking to someone who knows how this works. You’ll have to pull her picture and name from the lineup like she never existed. She’s not your headliner so you’ll get a few cranky tweets and the kids’ll move on. They have a whole festival to see.”

  “Cranky tweets? Her profile’s still trending, man.”

  “I get it, Herman.” Tommy’s raised tone was more from frustration with his own idiotic behavior than anything Herman said or did. “And... I’m sorry. I screwed you, but it’s done.”

  “Okay, man. Chill, I’ll handle it.” Herman started to pound on his computer keys. “I hope she’s worth it.”

  “More than you know.”

  * * *

  Back in New York and repaired in a way that only being home with her parents could accomplish, Nyah embodied Nancy the Manager and called Herman. She’d agreed to play Sunburst as Queen Roe for Tommy so that she didn’t spend the rest of her life feeling responsible for any damage to his career. He’d hurt her and betrayed their trust, but that didn’t stop her from loving him. She clutched her chest. They shared so many memories and she missed him—his raunchy jokes, the laughs they shared, and the closeness between them. Regardless of her feelings, she still had to do what was right for her sanity and her heart.

  “Hello?”

  “Herman? It’s Queen Roe.”

  “Oh. Hello.”

  Nyah wondered if he answered all the artists on his lineup with such a dry reception.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?” she asked.

  “No. I just don’t know why you’re calling.”

  She stared at the phone for a second and bit back the urge to call him a dick.

  “Well, I’m calling because as an artist on your lineup I wanted to connect with you directly to get the details about my performance.”

  “Is this some kind of joke, because I’m not amused.”

  “Joke? No, I’m handling my own details this time, without Tommy. If you need to transfer me, that’s fine.” She clenched her teeth because Herman was working her last nerve.

  “Boombox pulled you out,” Herman said. “Apparently there must be some kind of communication breakdown, because this happened a hot second ago.”

  “He did what?” Her voice climbed an octave or two. Tommy pulled me from the lineup? She’d ignored all his calls, left his texts on Read with no response, and archived his emails. When she said she was done, she meant it, but being pulled out of Sunburst might have been some pertinent information. “But I thought he couldn’t do that.”

  “Well, he did, and at the detriment to his stellar rep, I should add. The investors are pissed and new festival management will definitively blacklist him from submitting future artists.”

  “Why’d he do that?”

  “You’ll have to ask him, but I have my suspicions,” Herman said. “Pulling you out left us with a gaping fucking hole in the part of my lineup that’s supposed to be sava
ge and—”

  “I can help,” Nyah blurted. She shirked the training bra and straightened into her big girl brassiere. She’d written Tommy off but he’d risked the reputation he cherished to do right by her and honor her wishes. She made a note to try to retrieve the deleted messages and check the archived emails he’d sent her. Her heart raced but she cooled her jets. Trust had been tested and lost and she wasn’t so sure if letting him back in was the right choice.

  “How? You’re going to perform?” Herman interrupted her reflections.

  “Better than that.”

  “You’ve got my attention,” Herman said.

  “Well, you’re going to have to expand your span until I get back to you.”

  “You’re asking a lot and not telling me much.”

  “And I’m sorry about that but can you give me until tomorrow?”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You can’t, but I’m asking you to give me until tomorrow.” She prayed he’d say yes because if what she had planned worked out it could help everyone she loved.

  Herman chewed on her statement for a bit. “Okay. You got ’til tomorrow. Noon. No later. I’m only doing this because Tommy’s a friend.”

  “Thanks, Herman. I appreciate it.”

  She hung up and paced for several minutes until she developed her plans and sorted through the kinks and all the things that could possibly go wrong. She sat down and closed her eyes to rest her firing brain. Was this what it was like to be an agent? She rolled her phone in her hands a couple of time and finally sent her first text.

  Queen: Emergency situation. I need to see you.

  * * *

  All clubs lost their allure in the daytime when the flattering light gave way to the sun that revealed dirty floor, old, overstressed, shellacked wood bars, and dingy walls. Rebel was no different. Nyah had never walked into the club without her cloak, her makeup, or her dagger—her music. Now she called upon her two worlds and hoped that she wasn’t about to make another big mistake.

  She saw Oscar first, and he gave her that I know you but I don’t know you look. Even though he knew who she was, she never showed up to the club or at any crew event as Nyah.