by HB Heinzer
By the time we got back to our condo, there was an amethyst cocktail dress hanging in the closet. Emerson managed to find something classy enough for our dinner at Oba, yet funky enough for Rain to be comfortable. She pulled part of her hair back, leaving the rest in soft caramel curls floating across her bare shoulders. The skirt came to mid-thigh, accentuating her already long legs.
I had made reservations at Oba months ago, knowing it was one of the best places in Portland for Valentine's Day. Sure, there were fancier places, but neither of us would have been comfortable there. We were seated in the Havana Room to give us a bit of privacy. I wasn't expecting any major issues, but I wanted the night to be perfect. This way, there were still other diners around, but I didn't have to worry about psychotic fans or former managers awaiting sentencing.
Everything was even better than I thought it would be. The three-course meal was served with an extra level of flair I paid well for. I needed Rain to feel like the only woman in the restaurant on a night she would never forget. After melt-in-your-mouth scallops and beef tenderloin you could almost cut with a fork, the waiter brought our dessert. Because we were in the private dining room, we weren't hurried out of there to accommodate the fast turnaround needed in the main restaurant on a holiday.
We talked about everything: buying a house together, the possibility of having a family someday, what that would entail since we were both content living on the road, and how to spend the downtime we had decided to take for much of the spring. Then we left.
My plan may have worked a little too well. I wanted Rain to be caught off guard, but I wasn't prepared for the icy reception when I came to bed. As soon as I laid down, she rolled away from me, pushing me away when I tried to pull her close to me.
"You just about ready?" I yelled down the hall, needing her to get a move on. "Travis is going to be here in ten minutes, and you're still not ready." I stood at the bathroom door watching her putting on her makeup wearing only a black lace bra and panties that did nothing for my resolve to get us out the door on time.
"I still don't know why we're going to this thing. It's not like we know anyone there." Travis had told Rain one of his friends was having an art showing at L'Heure Blue with a small reception to celebrate her upcoming gallery exhibition, all of which was true. Unfortunately, after my Valentine's games, Rain wasn't pleased to be going anywhere with me.
"Because Rebekah has been there for us every step of the way. Now, it's our turn to support her." I wrapped my arms around Rain's bare waist, feeling her creamy skin beneath my fingers. After feathering her neck with kisses, I pulled away before I wound up being the one to make us late.
Everyone looked great when we walked into Bluehour. I looked to Jon, sitting at the bar sipping on a beer, and he subtly nodded in my direction, letting me know everything was in place. As I looked around the dining room, I could see friends and family sprinkle amongst ordinary diners.
"Would you like a drink before we go in?"
Rain nodded, barely looking at me. Luckily, her focus was on something at the other end of the bar, not towards the dining room. "Get me a Good Fellow," she said, looking down at the cocktail menu.
Instead of flagging down the bartender, I turned her stool to face me. "Are you mad at me?" I knew the answer, but we had to start somewhere.
"No, why?" She replied coolly.
"You just... ever since last night, you seem... off." I glanced around to see everyone now peeking in our direction.
"I'm fine." She started to turn on her seat but I braced my hands on the back of her stool, keeping it from turning.
"Good to know," I said softly. I leaned down and kissed her forehead, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.
"You know, you'd think that after almost six years, I'd understand you," I laughed. "In that time, you've transformed from being this shy, broken girl Travis brought home into a boisterous, badass rock chick that other girls want to grow up to be like. But more importantly, you've become my best friend."
I took a draw off my beer and handed Rain the Good Fellow that Jon took care of ordering for her. "Never in my life did I think there would be a woman I'd be willing to chase after for five years when she kept turning me down. And then I met you. And more than once, I thought I was insane to keep trying when you told me you'd never date a band mate. At least once, I debated leaving the band, so that would no longer be an issue. All I knew was I needed to be with you."
Rain gasped when I dropped to a knee in front of her, opening the ring box with the real ring I had intended to give her when the time was right. Rain was far too unique for diamonds, so I found her a one carat round amethyst set in white gold filigree.
"I know that since we've been together, I've been an idiot on more than one occasion. I'm not saying that's ever going to change, but I promise that I will spend every day until the day I die trying to do right by you."
"Madeline Grace Neumann," I started, brushing a tear away from her cheek. "I will never deserve it, but would you do me the honor of being my wife?" I reached for her hand, sliding the ring to her first knuckle.
Rain looked at me and nodded, her eyes catching a glimpse of her brothers standing behind me. "Where did they come from?" She sobbed into my shoulder after I slid the ring into place on her left ring finger.
"Surprise, baby." I pressed my lips to hers, staying cognizant of the fact we had an audience cheering for us. "I wanted them to be here for this."
She pulled back to look at me while her hands were still clasped behind my neck. "So, all those other times?"
"Thank you for saying no," I laughed. "Those times were part of the plan for tonight."
"And the ring?" She looked down to see it wasn't a traditional ring. It wasn't until that moment that I wondered if she would be upset not having the diamond all little girls dream of getting someday.
"Do you like it?" I asked nervously. "I couldn't find a diamond that reminded me of you, but when I saw this, it felt right."
"It's perfect, Colton." She pulled me down so our foreheads pressed against one another. "I love you. Forever."
The day I graduated high school was the day I was paroled. After an eighteen year sentence, the "princess prison" I was born into could no longer hold me. As the only daughter born after three sons, Mom dressed me in pink from birth and enrolled me in ballet as soon as I turned three. Lucky for me, my father drew the line when she started talking about beauty pageants.
In high school, I was on my school's dance team. Okay, so we were cheerleaders who performed dance routines during the winter season but confessing to the lowest point in my adolescent existence makes me want to vomit in my mouth just a bit. I wasn't thrilled by the idea but mom thought it would keep me out of trouble. She doesn't need to know how flawed that plan was. Let's just say encouraging your daughter to jump around in a skirt that barely covers her nether regions is never the way to keep her pure.
Madeline Grace Neumann died graduation night when I climbed into my 1977 Chevy Malibu determined to live my life on my own terms. I wasn't looking forward to resurrecting her as we drove down the Interstate. By the time we pulled off at Lexington, Rain Maxwell would be shoved in a box and the pretty, polished Maddie Neumann would walk off the bus I've called home for the past five months.
"Come on, Rain," Colton urged, "We all know you're one of the toughest bitches out here; but we want to be there for you."
I'd been having this fight with all of my band mates since I got the phone call. Mom's cancer had been worse than they thought. It turned out three to six months was an optimistic prognosis. Within a month, she was gone. She was gone and I wasn't there for her.
"Absolutely not," I snapped narrowing my eyes. "Trust me when I say it's the last place you guys want to be. Think I'm kidding? Take a good look at me when I walk off this bus."
Colton's thick arm wrapped around me, drawing me closer to him. "You shouldn't have to do this alone. You don't have to do this alone," he whispered. "When was t
he last time you went home?"
It killed me to think about the last time I'd seen my mother alive. I had been home once, about a year after graduation. I hadn't hooked up with the band yet, but I had already transformed myself into Rain Maxwell. When I walked in the front door of my parents' golf course community home, she cried. She actually cried when she looked at me. And they weren't tears of joy.
My naturally sandy blond hair had been dyed deep red, styled with blunt bangs and big curls to the middle of my back. My brown eyes were a brilliant emerald thanks to the magic of colored contacts. While she didn't understand those changes, I think it was the lip ring, my first three tats, and the patent leather knee-high combat boots that caused her breakdown.
I've spent the past five years avoiding home, unwilling to hide who I was and unprepared for a hysterical encore from my mom. Sure, there were times I missed my family but they didn't understand me any more than I understood them. The guys in the band have been my family since shortly after that trip and that's good enough.
"I haven't been home since before Trav asked me to join you guys," I answered. Having said it out loud, I curled my knees to my chest and began to sob. "She…the last time…my family didn't approve of my life after I left home. Please, Colton," I begged, "It's not that I don't want you guys there. You just can't be there."
The gentle sway of the bus cruising down the highway lulled me to sleep in the kitchen area of our home away from home. Colton never left my side. He pulled my head to his shoulder gently rubbing my arm as I slept. It was the first time I had let my guard down since my oldest brother, Matt, called me with the news.
"Hey, man," Travis whispered. I felt him bump into the table as he slid onto the bench across from us. I could hear everything going on around me but exhaustion forbade me from opening my eyes. "Make any progress tonight?"
Colton shook his head, "No, she's still being stubborn."
I heard the crack of a beer can being opened and I felt condensation dripping on my head as Colton took a drink. "I think we just have to let her do it her way. She doesn't need us telling her what's best for her. I have a feeling she'll be getting plenty of that from her family. Maybe we just need to drop it."
"I don't know man," Travis sighed, "You didn't hear the call from her brother. She was pretty upset when she hung up."
My head bobbled against Colton's chest as he laughed, "No shit, man; she just found out her mom died. I'd be more concerned if she wasn't upset."
"Not like that." Travis drew a deep breath, "Let's just say it might be good we're not going. He was cocking off to her about not being there. Told her she was a selfish bitch for wanting to finish out the tour. If he's as charming as he sounded, I'm not sure we'd all make it out of there without someone going to jail."
Life on the bus wasn't that different from life growing up in one way: I still had three older brothers. I had no doubt in my mind that Travis was telling the truth. Colton, Trav and Jon didn't put up with anyone giving me shit. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that one of my band brothers would clobber the hell out of one of my blood brothers if this trip went the way I was fairly certain it would.
Matt was furious when I told him it would be two days before I could get home. Selfish bitch, I believe, was what he called me. More than once. When he told me I would have made it a priority to come home to see Mom if she meant anything to me, I might have snapped on him.
"Screw you, Matt," I screamed, "When Dad emailed me, he told me she had more time. You have no clue what my life is like out here." I wished I had waited to call him back until I was inside the bus. There, I could have locked myself in the back bedroom and had a little bit of privacy. Instead, I was crouched behind the bus where all of the roadies and local help could hear every word.
"I told him I'd be home as soon as we're done with the tour. He said that would be fine," I continued, "Do you really think I wouldn't have jumped on a plane if I knew how close it was?"
"Honestly, I don't know Madeline," he spat placing emphasis on my given name. I hate that name. "You can be a selfish bitch, so no, I'm not sure you would have come home. You're so worried about your precious fans and your image. You forgot all of us when you left."
"You have no fucking clue what motivates me or where my priorities lie. I was going to be home the day after the tour was done," I sobbed, "Why didn't you call me when you knew it was time? If you'd called, I would have been on a plane as soon as I could get to an airport. Now I'm the one who didn't get to say goodbye." The kohl eyeliner and mascara combined with tears to form black streams down my face. From what Matt told me, they sat there and watched mom slipping away from them for days. Realizing they had robbed me of my goodbye, I was pissed.
"I have to go. The sooner we get this bus moving, the sooner I'll be there," I managed to say through ragged breaths. "Keep me posted."
Last night's show was hard to get through; I'm not going to lie. The guys told me to go home, that they could rearrange the set. I didn't really see the point. Flying home wasn't going to bring my mom back. There wasn't anything to do except sit around the house with Matt and Mike scowling at me, making comments under their breath while Mark tried to get everyone to calm down. This way I could keep my mind busy for one more night, hopefully missing out on the decision making that I wouldn't be allowed to have a say in anyway, and then get home to say goodbye to my mom.
I managed to keep it together through most of our set. Normally, there's a rise and fall to the set list to keep the energy level going. Knowing I was teetering on the edge of falling apart, Jon reworked the set list with Trav so we started high and just kept getting higher. When I almost lost it during If You Only Knew, Colton was by my side. He had been my rock for the past thirty-six hours.
After listening to the guys pick apart our entire show while they thought I was sleeping, I opened my eyes. "Hey," I said softly. When I started rubbing my eyes, the guys all started laughing at me. "What?" I snapped.
Colton kissed my forehead as he slid from the bench. "You might want to go take care of your face," he chuckled. "You didn't take off your makeup when you got on the bus. You kinda look like a murderous clown right now."
Tech week is affectionately dubbed "Hell Week" by theater companies everywhere with good reason. It doesn't matter how well everything has gone from casting through rehearsals; everything that can go wrong will in the last week before a show opens. Carly Turner knew everything was going too smoothly with the latest production at the small theater on 42nd Street.
"Turner, get out here," bellowed the stage manager. "Do you see the problem? How are we supposed to open in three days like this?" he shouted, flailing his arms towards the ceiling.
Weaving her way through set pieces, trying to avoid moving anything off its mark, Carly assessed the cause of Dax's current freak out. Yes, this was definitely a problem but Carly had no clue what he expected her to do about the two dark light rigs hanging above the stage. She wasn't a lighting tech; she was a gofer working on the show because she was desperate for experience.
Carly nodded. "Yes Dax, I see the problem. What, exactly, are you hoping I will do about it?" Dax Jameson was the one person she wasn't going to miss when this show closed. She'd worked with difficult stage managers before, but there was something about this one that made her skin crawl.
"I don't know, just get the damned lights working." Dax moaned as he stormed off the stage leaving Carly alone to solve the latest in a long line of hell week problems.
By the time Carly reached the control room, one of the junior lighting techs was leaning against the door frame waiting for her. "Here," he said, flicking a business card at her. "You're gonna to have to call ETS. Cheapskates around here keep putting off fixing shit until it's too late. Now we have three days to get the work done. Accounting office is gonna love that."
"Thanks, Clark," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek. "You're a lifesaver."
Grabbing her purse, Carly ducked out the ba
ck door into the alley. If she had to sit on hold, she was going to do it while getting some fresh air. And by fresh air, she meant she was going to enjoy a cigarette while surrounded by the smell of rotting garbage from the deli next door.
Just her luck, less than halfway through her cigarette, the hold music stopped. "ETS, this is Adam. How can I help you?" His voice was deep and rich, the type of voice that made Carly go a little bit weak in the knees.
"Hey, Adam. This is Carly with Schumann Theater in New York. I'm hoping you can help me. We're supposed to open in three days and we have a dark stage."
"Well, that would pose a problem." He laughed, instantly putting Carly on edge. It was easy to see the humor in the situation from behind a desk wherever the hell he was. From where she sat, there was nothing funny about it whatsoever.
Adam started running through a script of troubleshooting questions that Carly didn't have answers to. Why isn't someone from lighting making this damn call. Beyond knowing the end result of the problem, Carly was clueless.
She crushed her cigarette against the side of the building on her way inside and ran to the booth. "Here, you talk to him." Carly snapped at Clark as she shoved the phone into his chest. After assuring the ETS rep that they had already gone through the entire process and still couldn't get the lights to work, he handed the phone back to Carly.
"Told you so. They're going to send someone out. But we're going to be dark for tonight's rehearsal. He said their tech will meet someone here at eight tomorrow morning." Clark laughed. "I feel bad for whatever sap draws the short straw on that one."
Carly already knew who was going to get stuck opening the doors for the techs. No way in hell would Dax get out of bed before noon when he could tell Carly to come in early.
