“I’m twenty-one, Jake! I’m not a kid anymore! When are you going to stop treating me like one?”
“When you’re grown up!”
“I’m twenty-two,” I interjected. I should’ve stayed out of it, but I hated when people referred to me as a kid. “Are you saying I’m not a grown up?”
“Thank you, Cooper,” Mattie said. Crossing her arms over her chest, she scowled cantankerously at her brother. “Cooper’s only a year older. She was allowed on the bus.”
“Coop’s an adult, Matilda. She’s raised her son on her own for the last two years. She’s a single, working mom. There’s a huge difference in maturity!”
“So if I didn’t have the sense to use protection and I got knocked up, that would make me an adult? What world do you live in?”
At this, everyone glanced at me and then quickly diverted. I felt about an inch tall. Yes, twice I’d made that mistake. Thank you. No need to point it out. Mattie offered an apologetic look in my direction. It came out wrong. I know. She hadn’t meant it that way. But still.
“That’s what I’m trying to prevent, you moron!” Jake stressed. “You’re not staying on the men’s bus! It’s full of men with questionable morals!”
Shane and Carter looked at each other in confusion and then at Jake. “Dude,” Carter spoke up. “Are you insinuating that I’d touch your kid sister? We’re talking about Mattie here. That’s seriously messed up.”
At this point, all the blood rushed to Mattie’s face. She looked about to blow a gasket. Her hands clenched at her sides. The tendons in her neck flexed. “I. AM. NOT. A. KID.”
“Technically,” Tate reasoned, “we were married when it happened.” His defense was a little late in the coming, not to mention everyone’s attention was focused solely on Mattie at this point.
“I’ve been in college the last four years!” Mattie continued. “Do you know what kind of things go on in college? I’m not as innocent as you think! So butt the heck out, Jake off!”
“Wow, Matilda,” Jake scoffed. “That’s real mature.”
“Wait wait wait,” Em said, joining in. The large coffee she was drinking barely had a chance to work its way into her system. She wobbled on her feet as she squeezed between Jake and Carter. “Back up a minute. Are you saying that Coop’s pregnant?”
The room miraculously silenced.
Except for Carter’s video, which Tate had removed, we hadn’t told anyone outside the band, our bodyguards and my parents. And my parents only knew because they couldn’t make it to Thanksgiving dinner, when Tate had wanted to make the official announcement.
“Oh my God, you are!” Em blurted. “You’re pregnant!” For some reason, she took offense to this. Surprising me, however, she aimed her glare at Tate. “You idiot! What are you thinking? What about her career?”
I gasped. My hand went to my mouth again. “Em!”
“Do you see?” Jake said to Mattie. “Pregnancy is no joke! They’re married, Matilda, and it’s still a serious matter! There are repercussions for Christ’s sake!”
“Oh shut up, Jake!”
“And you,” Em snarled, directing her attention at me. “How could you not tell me this? I’m your best friend, Coop! We tell each other everything!”
“Oh, everything?” I replied icily, finding my voice. “I hardly think that’s true, Em. What about all your ‘Save Coop’ group meetings, huh? The only reason I found out is because Tate made Marshall tell me!”
“I was looking out for you!”
“I deserved to know!”
Breaking through the chaos, Marshall put his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Evan took it from there. “Cars are waiting out front. Bags are loaded. We’re gaining an audience, people. I suggest we move the show somewhere more private. Thank you.”
Indeed, a small crowd of bystanders had gathered just outside the gate. Some were taking pictures with their cell phones, and I spotted one or two white lenses. Nothing major. Local papers, most likely. A few smalltime photographers looking to make it big.
Though I knew Grant was dead, old habits were hard to break.
I hated having my picture taken.
Taking my hand, Tate tucked me behind him and followed Evan. “Dad, Emily, Carter, you’re riding with us.”
“Do you have room for one more?” Mattie asked, trotting after us.
“Sorry, with Levy’s car seat, we’re full.”
“She can squeeze in the third row with me and Dad,” Carter offered. Always the troublemaker, he smirked at Jake and draped his arm over Mattie’s shoulder.
“Thanks Carter.”
“Anything for little Mattie.” Mattie’s mouth twisted as if it wasn’t quite what she anticipated, especially when Carter reached up and ruffled her hair. I could suddenly see Jake’s concern. Mattie was crushing.
A few minutes later, we were seated in the Escalade. Evan took the driver’s seat, and Tate the passenger’s side. Carter and Nolan squeezed in the back, sandwiching Mattie between them. Em and I sat in the center row, with Levy in the middle. No one said a word.
“You know what?” Em said, breaking the silence. “I think I’ll take the other car.”
“Em.”
“It’s ok, Coop. I’m just not feeling too well. I drank too much. The walls are closing in on me. There’s gotta be a little more space in the other car. Oh god let me out.” She scrabbled frantically at the handle, trying to get the door open. “Why won’t this darn thing open?”
“Child locks,” Tate explained, releasing them from the front. He climbed out and helped Em to the Suburban. Nolan used the time to move to the center row, giving Mattie and Carter more room in the back. Levy looked up and showed Nolan his teeth in a squinty smile.
“Yew dad?”
“No, he’s Grandpa,” Carter corrected. “He’s old. See the gray hairs?”
“Carter!” Mattie chided.
“Carter’s appointed himself Levy’s teacher of family relationships,” I explained. “Now he thinks everyone is ‘dad.’”
“He does not. Who am I, kid?”
Levy giggled. “Yew bad!”
Nolan found this particularly amusing and belted out a laugh. “You got that right, son. He’s bad.”
“Funny. I’ll remember that, kid. Next time you want chocolate ice cream or lollipops. Then you’ll be calling me Uncle Cawtah again.”
Nolan was still laughing when Tate slid back into the passenger’s seat. “Yew Dad!” Levy crowed, pointing a pudgy finger in his direction. Tate turned, looked over his shoulder, then reached back and tickled Levy’s feet, eliciting an ear-piercing squeal from him.
Evan pressed the gas and pulled onto Broadway, which would take us to the Adams Center and back to our buses. There Em, Nolan and Mattie could refresh before having dinner at the Sky Club, a private facility situated above the arena. It was a catered event for the crew and their families, those who could make it here or couldn’t make it home for the holiday.
“A grandpa,” Nolan mused. “It’s true then. I’ve been hearing the rumors on all those gossip columns. I didn’t believe it, to tell you the truth. I thought I would be the first to know.”
“We planned to tell everyone tonight at dinner. Coop wanted to wait until after the first trimester, but we figured this was close enough. She’s ten weeks. It’s ten, right, Coop?”
“To the day tomorrow.”
“When does that make you due?”
“June fourteenth. We’re going to see a doctor here on Saturday before we leave for Nampa. We should be able to hear the heartbeat then.”
“She could go on your birthday, Tate.”
“Don’t rush it, Dad.” Tate’s recollection of Levy’s delivery had him squirming in his seat. “Anytime is too soon.”
“Trouble with this one then,” Nolan surmised, nodding his head in Levy’s direction. “Though, the wife’s smiling. It either wasn’t that bad or it’s a good thing men don’t have babies.”
“I
t was that bad,” Tate replied. “It’s a good thing men don’t have babies,” I said at the same time. This educed another round of laughter from Nolan. He had a hearty laugh. It was round and wholesome. I liked him even more.
“I have high hopes,” I explained. “This pregnancy is completely different than the last one. I’ve hardly been sick at all, mostly in the mornings and then it tapers off in the afternoon. I had hyperemesis gravidarum carrying Levy. I was sick all hours of the day.”
“It sounds like some kind of Harry Potter spell,” Carter laughed. “Hyperemesis gravidarum!”
“I’ve read that morning sickness can be linked to the father of the child,” Mattie observed. “Maybe it was just bad genetics.”
The car fell silent again, except Carter whispering in the back. I suppose he was apprising Mattie of my relationship with Grant. It was actually somewhat nice that not everyone in the world knew. It was in the past. I just wanted to leave it there.
“How was Em?” I asked Tate, changing the subject.
“Marshall was offering her a Green Machine when I left.”
“He thinks the stuff is a cure all, like Windex.”
“She’ll be fine,” Nolan added. “As long as she sticks to water and gets some food in her stomach. I don’t think she ate. Had a lot on her mind. Said something about some Tommy fellow showing up at her door. Didn’t seem too happy about it.”
“Oh my God.” Tommy was her ex. There was a chance he might get parole early with good behavior. She never thought it would happen. He was a fighter. If anything, she thought he would get time added onto his sentence. Sitting forward in my seat, I stretched my seatbelt as far as it would go, looked Tate in the eye. “Did you know about this?”
“Marshall might’ve mentioned it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I the last one to know?”
“You weren’t talking to her!”
With that, I drooped in my seat, burying my face in my hands. I was the biggest asshole on the face of the earth.
“Technically, you’re not the last person to know,” Carter spoke up. “I have no idea what’s going on. Anyone care to enlighten me?”
“Tommy’s her ex,” I mumbled. “He’s out of prison.”
“Prison. Do you know any normal people, Coop? God, you really know how to pick ‘em.”
“I don’t pick them. They picked me.”
“I’m not jumping in front of any bullets again.”
“You didn’t jump in front of any last time,” Evan scoffed. “I told you to keep your butt down. You had it sticking so high in the air that I thought you were waiting for someone to come tap it.”
This time, Tate laughed. So did Mattie and Nolan. Despite the topic of conversation, I might’ve smiled. It wasn’t often Evan chimed in so I rather enjoyed it when he did.
“Eff you,” Carter said. “The booth was really small. I got stuck when I was climbing out.”
By the time their laughter died down, we were pulling into the parking lot. I was surprised to find my hands shaking as I unbuckled Levy from his car seat. Maybe I wasn’t as resilient as I had thought. The news of Tommy’s release raised echoes of my past, far from long or forgotten. They floated in my memory like a specter, unwelcome and haunting.
“May I?” Nolan asked, placing his hand over mine.
I forced a smile. It was weak at best. “Sure. There’s a button underneath and then the clip—”
“I’m not that old, sweetheart. I can figure it out. Go on and talk to your friend. You’ll both be the better for it.”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Tate was waiting for me by the door, Evan at his side. “Are you ok?”
“Yes. No.” I shook my head. “It’s too fresh.”
“It’s not like last time, ma’am,” Evan assured. “The perpetrator is on parole, and has to wear a tracking device at all times. They’re designed to be tamper resistant. If he attempts to remove the device, the authorities are alerted. If he moves out of range, the authorities are alerted. He must call in as stipulated from his landline phone, upon departing and arriving at his designated residence. If he misses the call, the authorities are alerted. You’re in no danger.”
“That is actually tremendously relieving.” I felt like I could breathe again. I was even able to return Evan’s smile.
“It’s all part of my job, ma’am.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze and walked away. I could’ve hugged him, in truth. Tate did instead.
“Better?”
“Yeah. I should go talk to Em. I feel horrible.”
“Why don’t you show her inside. Mattie too. I think they could use a few. I’ll take the kid and go hang with the guys.”
“Really?”
“They’ll behave, I swear. Dad will keep ‘em in line.”
“Ok.”
“Remember, dinner’s at five.”
Rising up on my toes, I pressed a brief kiss to his lips and then went in search of Em. I found her lying in the Suburban with a compress on her forehead. It was a break-and-shake from the emergency kit. Her feet overhung the seat. Her red sparkly heels stuck out like the wicked witch of the east. I would’ve done a Carter and taken a picture, but it wasn’t the time.
Shane was standing by the door, Mattie and Marshall beside him.
“How is she?” I asked.
“She,” Em answered, “is feeling dandy. Nothing a little laughing grass won’t cure.” Sitting up, she swayed slightly, but what got me were her eyes. The irises were dark, almost completely black and glossy. The goofy smile didn’t help either. She was stoned.
I unleashed my glare on Shane. “What did you do?”
“Cured her hangover.”
“By getting her stoned?” I had nothing against weed, but I needed to get Em sober. We had dinner in just a couple hours, and she could barely stand upright.
“It’s proven medical science,” Shane said. “It reduces nausea and increases your appetite. She’ll rehydrate faster if she can eat and drink without tossing everything back up.”
“Whatever. Just help me get her inside. Marshall, can you grab her bag. And grab Mattie’s too.”
Mattie’s back went up. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tate segregated us, didn’t he?”
“No, he just thought we might like some time to get changed. He even took Levy so that he wouldn’t be in our hair.”
“You were played, Coop. He sent you as the messenger because he knew I wouldn’t be rude to you.”
“Did you call me?” Marshall asked. When I looked up, he had Levy balanced on his arm. I hadn’t realized Marshall was missing. He had been standing there just a minute ago.
“What—where did you get him?” I pointed to my son as if his source of origin was questionable. I knew exactly where Marshall got him. Mattie was right. Tate had played me.
“Tate,” Marshall answered.
I made a sound of disgust in the back of my throat. “Whatever. We have the nicer bus. It has two bathrooms. And neither one of them smell. Come on, Em.” Draping her arm over my shoulder, I helped her stumble to my bus. “Just don’t throw up in it, ok? I love my bus.”
“She’s not going to throw up,” Shane promised. “I know what I’m doing.”
“Hey, Coop?” Em slurred. Her breath reeked of marijuana and vodka, not a pleasant combination. “What happened to your car?”
“Don’t ask.”
“I thought I already did.”
“It got broken, Em. Grant stole my lug nuts. A little help here, Shane?” I went in first, but Em would’ve liked to pull me to the ground with her persistent wobbling. In all honesty, she wasn’t really trying. I thought I was going to go down until Shane steadied her from behind.
“Holy crap!” Em exclaimed as we rounded the stairs. Her eyes went wide. She panned the room. “Fuck the Mini! Look at this thing! My God, is that real leather?” Plopping down on the sofa, Em kicked her shoes off nestled into the cushions. “It is real
leather. I’m in heaven. I don’t even care if you’ve had sex on this couch. I’m sleeping here tonight. Oh my gosh! Look at the lights up there. There’s so many! It’s like a sky full of stars! Look at the stars… Look how they shine for you… And everything you do… Yeah, they were all yellow…”
“She is so stoned,” Mattie observed. “I’m jealous.”
“You want stoned,” I pointed out. “King Bong is right there. Just go outside to do it.”
“Me? Uh uh,” Shane refused, jabbing his finger at Em. “She’s one thing, but no way am I getting Jake’s little sister stoned.” Wisely, he made a break for it and headed for the door. “Adios amigas. You’re on your own from here.”
“I told you, we’ve been segregated.”
Rubbing the back of my neck, I hated to say it, but she was right. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Em’s arm shot into the air. “War!”
Chapter 21
War it was. We denied all men access to the Prevost. This didn’t bother Carter, Jake or Shane as much as Tate, but it had definitely instigated a full out battle. They were brothers in arms. You mess with one; you mess with them all. It was like poking a stick at a hornet’s nest.
It was the most fun I had in years.
Due to downtime, pranks were common between bands during touring. Between crashing each other’s shows on stage, filling the buses with confetti filled balloons, and sending strippers to the dressing rooms, I learned to expect the unexpected. Hence, when the guys tried to pry open the front door, we were waiting on the roof with snow balls, and when they decided to help Tate climb in through the sunroof, he found Mattie waiting in the bed instead of me.
The latter was Mattie’s idea, seeing that Tate had a brotherly relationship with her and would be most discomfited with the anticipated outcome. Tate had one hell of a surprise, and left the bus voluntarily under the agreement that neither side would mention the incident again.
Round three went to the men.
They shut off our water heater sometime during the night.
Round four went to the women.
Let’s say breakfast in Missoula during late November was…nipply.
Someone to Watch Over Me Page 29
