Class Mom

by Laurie Gelman

  “I’m not in New York because Raj blew me off to help work on the plans for the new addition to the library at school and Laura has been dating this bass player and his band is playing Town Hall tonight. There, all caught up.” She turns back to Max to start another game of Uno.

  There is so much mind-splintering information in that one sentence that it takes my almost-fifty-year-old brain a few seconds to process it all. I pick the most shocking thing to attack first.

  “Laura is dating a musician?” Oh, my God. Where did I go wrong?

  “She only started seeing him about a week ago. He’s nice. The band sucks, though.”

  “How come she can say ‘sucks,’ but I can’t say ‘sucka’?” Max jumps in.

  “Max, can you go play with your helicopter while I talk to Sissy, please.” It’s a command more than a request.

  “But we just started a new game.”

  “We can play later, bud. I’m here till Saturday.”

  Max seems satisfied with this promise and runs up to his room.

  Now that I’m alone with Vivs, I grab a bottle of water and a yogurt from the fridge and join her at the table.

  “Okay,” I sigh, “from the beginning, please. What is Raj doing?”

  Vivs sighs and shuffles the Uno cards with vigor.

  “He got asked to work on the plans for the new library at school. So he bailed on New York.”

  “Isn’t it a big deal for him to be asked to do that?”

  “Yeah, but we’ve been planning this trip since Christmas. He chose work over me. That’s just not a good sign for our future.”

  I nearly burst out laughing. For someone so smart, Vivs can be so obtuse, not to mention self-absorbed.

  “Sweetie, he didn’t pick work over you. He picked a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity over a trip that can happen pretty much any time. Surely to God you see that.”

  Vivs finishes shuffling and puts the cards back in the box.

  “I guess I do. I mean, I do. I’m just bummed. And I made him feel guilty about it, so now I feel worse. Am I the biggest bitch on the planet?”

  Not the biggest, I think but do not say.

  “Not even close.” I stand and walk around to her side of the table to give her a hug.

  “Just make sure you apologize to him. I mean, it’s pretty huge, what he’s doing.”

  She nods. “Maybe I’ll make him some cookies. Or you know he loves the Five Napkin Brownies.”

  I decide to change the subject before I get roped into making them.

  “So tell me about Laura’s new guy.”

  She shrugs. “I really don’t know that much. His name is Travis, he’s a creative writing major, he’s my age, and he plays in this band that’s pretty popular on campus, although I don’t know why. Their music is so average. The lead singer is this hot Asian guy. I’m surprised she didn’t go after him.”

  I can’t imagine Laura “going after” anyone.

  “What’s the name of the band?”

  “Sucker Punch.”

  “Eww.” I can’t stop my reaction.

  “I know, stupid name, stupid songs. I don’t know what people like about them. But Travis seems okay. I promised Laurs I’d go with her to see them tonight. I’m dreading it.”

  “How bad can they be? They have a gig at Town Hall,” I offer.

  “Yeah. On a Monday.”

  She has a point.

  “Wanna come?”

  “Seriously?” I can’t believe my daughter is asking me to hang out at a concert.

  “Sure, why not? You can tell me if he’s any good on bass.”

  Bass players were never my specialty, but the thought of going to hear a rock band is mildly pleasing. I haven’t revisited the shame of my youth since Max was born. I wonder if I can convince Ron to go.

  “Maybe. Let me talk to Ron and see if I can get a babysitter.”

  I pick up my phone and notice a text from Don.

  Hey, is everything okay? I didn’t mean to freak you out by asking to go for coffee on Valentine’s Day.

  Truth be told I wasn’t freaked out, but it was a bit of a wake-up call for me. I had made a promise to myself that night that I would dial down the flirt.

  You didn’t. I’m just crazy busy.

  Well, my offer for coffee stands.

  Good!

  Back in reactor mode where I belong, I start to make plans for tonight.

  * * *

  I secure Chyna to babysit, and reach out to see if anyone else wants to join us for dinner and a “show.” That’s how I present it, anyway. The Tuccis are in, and it only takes a little begging to convince Nina that she and Garth should give their binge-watching of some series on Netflix a rest and come out to have fun. I feel like I need to see Garth and Nina together to get a sense of what’s really going on. I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m the only one creating drama in their relationship.

  As I’m cleaning up the lunch dishes, Laura comes in the back door and rushes to give me a hug.

  “Mom!”

  “Hey, sweetie. Such a nice surprise that you guys are home.” I hug her back.

  “I know! It was kind of a last-minute decision.”

  “I heard.” I give her an expectant look.

  “Did Vivs tell you about Travis?” She is blushing.

  “Yes. He sounds really cool. Can’t wait to hear him play.”

  “Wait, are you coming tonight?” I can’t tell if she is excited or horrified.

  “Yes! Vivs invited me and I invited Peeta and Buddy and Nina and Garth.”

  “Oh, my God, Mom! Are you kidding me?” Yup, horrified.

  “No, it’ll be fun!”

  “Not for me! I don’t want Travis to have to meet all of you.” She’s whining now.

  “Don’t be silly. He doesn’t even have to know we’re there.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. I’m going to kill her. Vivs!” she suddenly screams at the top of her lungs.

  “Laura! Stop yelling. We’re going to come and see Sucker Punch play”—try saying that with a straight face—“and have a fun night out. If you don’t want us to meet Travis, fine. We’ll meet him another time. But we’re coming. I haven’t seen a live band in ages.”

  Laura is still sporting a pout, but she doesn’t say anything else except “Fine,” and stomps up the back stairs, no doubt to lay her wrath at Vivs’s doorstep. Better Vivs than me. I need to find a place for all of us to eat before the concert.

  * * *

  After dinner at our local Bonefish Grill—picked because of its proximity to Town Hall—we all stroll over to the venue. I have been eyeing Nina and Garth all night and I’ve come to the conclusion that I will learn nothing from watching them. They don’t give anything away except the idea that they are a very happy couple.

  We all get in line to buy tickets and discover that, believe it or not, Sucker Punch is not the headliner. That distinction goes to an all-girl Led Zeppelin cover band called Lez Zeppelin. Sucker Punch is one of two opening acts.

  Ron has his arm around me as we walk through the door, give the tattooed gentleman $40, and get our hands stamped. Our hands stamped! It’s been too many years since I’ve had the telltale sign of a night out imprinted on the back of my hand. I can’t help feeling a bit giddy.

  We stop by the mandatory coat check and entrust our garments to a painted lady whose T-shirt says “Call Me Maybe.” She doesn’t give us a ticket in return, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll ever see my black sheepskin jacket again.

  Town Hall is exactly what it sounds like—an all-purpose venue used for everything from Christian revivals to Zumba classes. It is a very large rectangular room with a stage at one end and a balcony that runs along the other three sides. It has the feel of a school gymnasium but without the smell of utility balls. You can pretty much hold any event here, but you cannot serve alcohol. It’s a municipal rule that has been challenged many times over the years but has yet to be changed.

  The joint is packed wit
h the unwashed youth of KC. Okay, they probably aren’t unwashed so much as trying to look that way. I don’t really get the whole ripped-jeans, holes-in-the-T-shirt, bedhead look that seems to be so popular, but then again, I’m sure my mom didn’t get the slutty-biker-chick look that I sported as a teen.

  There are no seats, of course, so we all just stand around waiting for something to happen. Soon enough, a group of kids, dressed pretty much like their audience, ambles onto the stage with guitars and start plugging into the amplifiers. There is some ungodly noise as they get tuned up and I realize my heart is racing. Man, does this bring me back. I turn to Ron with what I’m sure is the goofiest smile I’ve ever displayed.

  He raises an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just … it’s fun to be here, that’s all.”

  He smiles and nods like he’s humoring a mental patient. I look down the line at the rest of our crew, but don’t see anyone quite as excited as I am. Peetsa is plugging her ears, and Buddy is yelling something in Garth’s ear. I notice Vivs has joined us and is talking to Nina. I walk over to them.

  “Is this Sucker Punch?” I yell.

  “No. Next band. This is Grope. High school kids.”

  Just then Grope’s lead singer steps up to the mic.

  “Good evening, Kansas City!” he screams, and immediately gets feedback from the monitors.

  “Whoa. Sorry about that. Uh, we’re Grope and we’re here to get you rockin’. One two three four…”

  And it begins. Grope starts rattling out a song about going to hell. It’s actually not too bad, considering how young they are. I look to my right and see my friends nodding their heads to the beat. Okay. Not a disaster. Grope’s second song is a ballad—a sensitive song about a bitch who did him wrong. The melody is good, but these guys really need help with their lyrics. “I was trashed so I crashed at her hash-pad.” What?

  They get the crowd going with their third and final song—a pretty decent cover of “London Calling,” by the Clash. Always leave ’em wanting more, Grope. Well done.

  After a quick changeover, Sucker Punch hits the stage. Four guys—all adorable—take their places with much more panache than Grope. Vivs is right, the lead singer is a very good-looking Asian boy/man. He’s obviously in his twenties, but has a young look. He reminds me of John Cho, the guy from Harold and Kumar.

  I look at the bass player and see a thin blond guy with a very cute smile and a great ass. I know it’s not something I should be noticing about my daughter’s boyfriend, but I do still have a pulse, and may I say he is wearing his skintight khakis very well.

  The lead singer introduces the band, then says, “Let’s hear it one more time for Grope.”

  The audience gives a generous round of applause and then Sucker Punch kicks off their set with a slow song that eventually builds to a frantic beat. I don’t love the song, but I can tell these guys are talented musicians. Travis is totally in tune with the drummer and doesn’t grandstand like the Grope bass player did. I can already tell he’s a nice guy. I feel my hand being squeezed and I see Laura has joined us in the audience.

  “What do you think?” she screams in my ear, so loudly that I feel reverb.

  “They are awesome!” I scream back. She looks relieved.

  We listen to all three of their songs together. Laura knows every word, and my heart aches just a bit. I remember being that girl.

  When Sucker Punch finishes their set, the crowd shows its appreciation by asking for an encore. I’m a little surprised. I mean, they weren’t that good, and Lez Zeppelin’s fans have been waiting patiently through two boy bands.

  Laura is beaming.

  “Travis is going to be so happy. They’re not allowed to play another song, but he was hoping people would want one.”

  Peetsa, Buddy, and Ron join Laura and me to give their two cents.

  “This is so fun!” Peetsa enthuses. She is still yelling, even though the music has stopped.

  “Great bands!” Buddy adds. I don’t believe either of them.

  “Where is everyone else?” I realize half our party is MIA.

  “They all went to watch from the balcony,” Peetsa explains.

  “Mom, do you want to come and meet the band?” Laura asks. I’m floored. I didn’t think she even wanted me here. I guess I’ve passed some unspoken test.

  “You mean go backstage? You don’t have to ask me twice!”

  Laura winces. Whoops. Not cool, I guess.

  “I mean, sure,” I rebound. “You guys wanna come?” I ask the Tuccis.

  “I think we’ll hang here and catch the Led Zeppelin band thing,” Buddy says, and Peetsa nods her agreement. I give them a knowing smile and follow Laura to the door beside the stage.

  Town Hall isn’t exactly Wembley Stadium, but backstage still has the slightly seedy electric undercurrent of exclusivity. I’m in my wheelhouse. The only things missing are beefy security guards, a bevy of skanks, and a pass around my neck. And alcohol. But whatever, I’m here and I’m feeling great.

  Laura leads me through a common area with sofas to a hallway by the back door where Sucker Punch is packing up their instruments. Laura runs to Travis and throws herself at him. Good lord! I guess I never taught her the art of playing hard to get. Actually, I never practiced that art, either.

  When they come up for air, she is rapturous.

  “You were amazing! You sounded so good.”

  Travis seems pleased.

  “Did you see when I gave you our sign?”

  She beams and starts making out with him again.

  I realize I should stop staring at them. I turn and see the rest of the band just packing up their stuff and joking around. The lead singer is wiping off his guitar. Up close, he really doesn’t look that much like John Cho, but he reminds me of someone.

  “You guys were great,” I offer him.

  He gives me a puzzled look.

  “Uh, thanks. Are you with Lez Zeppelin?”

  “Me? No.” I start to giggle like an idiot. “No, Laura’s my daughter.” I point to the makeout session.

  “Oh, cool. She’s cool.”

  I’m about to say something stupid like “Just like her mom” when I hear a voice that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up like quills on a porcupine.

  “Jeen!”

  We both turn and see Asami Chang walking toward us. Immediately three things pop into my head:

  1. What the hell is she doing here?

  2. She looks good in those leather pants.

  3. Why did she call me Jeen?

  “Hey, Auntie!” The lead singer scoots around me and gives Asami a hug.

  Auntie?

  “You were wonderful!” Asami is gushing and fussing over the man/boy, who I now understand to be her nephew and named Jeen. I realize she hasn’t even noticed me. Time to put a buzz kill on her night.

  “Asami? Hi!”

  They look over at me.

  “Is this your friend, Auntie? I was just talking to her.”

  The look on Asami’s face is pretty comical as she tries to fit all the pieces together.

  “Jen. What are you doing here?” I can’t tell if she’s shocked or pissed off.

  “Here to see the band, just like you.” I walk toward her.

  And then something completely unexpected and magical happens: Asami smiles. It’s a genuine “I’m happy the stick is finally out of my ass” smile. It changes her face completely.

  “Weren’t they wonderful? Did you meet Jeen? Jeen, this is Mrs. Dixon.”

  “Just Jen.” I smile and shake his hand.

  “Jeen is my nephew,” she explains needlessly. She turns to him. “I like this band of yours!”

  “Thanks.” Jeen smiles. I can tell he’s happy to have her approval.

  “So different from the string quartet!”

  He laughs. “Yeah. Can’t get much more different.”

  Just then the grinding beat of “Whole Lotta Love” starts up, signaling that the
headliners have taken the stage. I can’t hear lyrics, just the muted bass and drumbeats.

  I feel like I’m having a bit of an out-of-body experience. Asami has a nephew who left a string quartet to play in a rock band called Sucker Punch and she’s okay with it. Who is this woman?

  “Has your father heard you play yet?”

  I don’t get to hear the answer to this question, because Laura suddenly appears in front of my face.

  “Mom!”

  “What? Sorry. I ran into a friend.”

  “Come meet Travis!”

  With difficulty, I turn away from the Asami show and walk toward the object of my daughter’s unbridled desire.

  Travis is hunched over his bass case. As we walk up, he straightens, hitches up his pants, and runs a hand through his hair. He’s nervous. Good.

  “Mom, this is Travis.”

  I put on my best mom smile and stick out my hand.

  “Hi, Travis. You guys really rocked it tonight.”

  “Thanks, Mrs. Dixon. Nice to meet you.”

  His handshake is warm and firm, and he looks directly in my eyes. Not bad, Travis. You’ve been raised well.

  “How many shows have you guys done together?” I ask.

  “This is our third since Jeen came on board. We’re still working out the kinks.”

  “Not at all. I thought you guys were pretty tight.”

  Travis just smiles. I’m sure he’s thinking, How the hell would you know, old lady? To which I’m thinking: Well, I’ll tell you how I know, buddy boy. Ever heard of a little band called INXS?

  “Mom, what were you talking to Jeen about?” Laura interrupts the cocktail party in my head.

  “What? Oh, nothing. I know his aunt.” I look back over and see Asami talking to Jeen and the drummer. Man, peel an onion and you get a lot of layers.

  Travis and the band finish packing up their equipment to the slow thumping beat of Lez Zeppelin playing what I think is “All of My Love.” I can’t help feeling like I’m missing the best band of the night. I go over to where Laura is standing.

  “Do you need a ride home, sweetie?”

  She blushes, which I take to mean either no or “I don’t know yet.” Travis answers for her.

  “I think we’re going to hang for a while.” He puts his arm around her.