Not to mention that my father was up there with them, so, nope, not going there.
Anyway, she was one to talk, now that she’d basically hooked up with Max, Wiretap’s bass player. She said they weren’t actually dating (yet) since he was still grieving (and now in therapy) over his girlfriend’s death, but there was something going on. Something that had caused a profound change in the formerly broody and moody musician, so whatever that something was, I approved.
My dad said Max was returning to the guy he’d first hired to join the band, which was a relief to everyone. Not that I’d ever met that guy, but I was starting to see glimmers of him, and I liked him much better.
While he’d never be the super-outgoing and jokey guy in the band (which was fine, since we had a couple of those already), he’d come a very long way since Sandy had worked her magic on him, whatever that was.
For that alone, I was thankful, but for her sake, I was really, really happy that they’d found each other.
Until she did things like go out of her way to embarrass me. Like at that moment when she was making a mocking kissy face at me which made me blush harder. I did my best to ignore it, since the guys wouldn’t see it anyway but made a mental note to somehow get her back later.
Once the bus pulled to a stop, the guys knew the routine and had finished up their game and tucked the console away, ready to head out and start their work day. We’d only been on the road for—I had to stop and do the math—twelve or thirteen days, but they’d quickly learned once we were at a location, it was time to work.
“Looks like a great day out there,” Chris said as he bent down to look out the side window of the coach. “Good crowd already.”
“This festival pulls a big crowd,” my dad said. “And they start early, it being the holiday and all. They put on a good fireworks show, too. Should be a good day all around.”
It also meant a long day, but we were used to that and the chronic fatigue that always plagued tour. Nonetheless, the guys were buzzing with energy, which was a good thing, especially since an unspoken melancholy had descended the night before when it sunk in that no one would be home for the fourth.
The good news was that there was time enough for us to linger in Salt Lake so we could take in the fireworks after the concert. Realizing the guys were probably a bit homesick, Sandy and I would make sure there were lots of snacks and blankets, too, so that while it wouldn’t be just like home, it would be as close and comfortable as we could make it.
Like my dad was reading my mind, he came up and put an arm around me. “You missing being at the beach house this year?”
It was kind of a stupid question, but the truth was, I wasn’t missing it as much as I would have thought. Being with him—my entire family—was the most important part of the holiday, and that we were on tour meant we were already together. Though there was something to be said for sitting on the beach, eating a pile of seafood and watching the fireworks out over the water—our longstanding tradition. For good reason.
“A little,” I said with a shrug.
“Well,” he said, giving me a wry look. “If it makes you feel better, Linda’s out there enjoying herself, so we can live vicariously through her.”
“What?” Sandy demanded. Had our plans not changed, she would have been on that beach with me. Not that she was complaining about our stint on tour being extended.
Dad smiled over at her and then back at me. “Well someone should get use of it. But don’t get too jealous, She’s working,” he said with a shake of his head.
Sandy pouted. “She’s probably hosting a huge party.”
I doubted that but looked at my dad to get his reaction, since I still wasn’t sure what his relationship with Linda was. Were they just close work colleagues? Dating? Friends with benefits? Ugh, maybe I didn’t want to know.
He shook his head. “Unlikely, but maybe a few neighbors will drop by. She’s still supposed to be taking it easy. I’m glad she’s resting.”
“Any word on when she’ll be joining tour?” I asked, not sure where I stood on her returning, especially now that things were going so well.
“Not yet. It can be so physical on tour,” Dad said unnecessarily, and I read from his disappointed tone that he maybe expected her to be out all summer.
His phone rang then, triggering Sandy and me into action, getting ready to grab our respective gear to follow the guys off the bus. We’d check out the venue and start on setup. The crew vehicles had already arrived, so we’d go out and join them to get the lay of the land.
“Hey Linda,” Dad said as he answered his phone.
“Speak of the devil,” Sandy muttered as she tied her hair back into a ponytail—it was funny how low maintenance she’d become in our less than two weeks on tour.
“What?” Dad said, his surprised tone drawing my gaze to him. His eyes were wide in shock.
I glanced at Sandy, who shrugged, and then back at him. “What’s wrong?” I asked because there wasn’t much that shocked my dad. “Is Linda okay?” I hoped she hadn’t had a setback in her recovery. It’s not like she would have been playing beach volleyball or something like that to reinjure herself, but another fall...
Dad ignored me. “Are you sure?” he said into the phone as his left hand rose to scrub over his face, his palm coming to rest over his eye. “No, of course. Yes...no, it was a stupid question. I’ll...I don’t know what to do. What should I...?”
Okay, so now I was getting really freaked out. My dad never got flustered. Ever.
“All right. No, you’re right. I’ll get back to you as soon as I have five minutes to think. Okay?” He nodded, said a quick, “Thanks, Lin,” and then ended the call.
He looked haunted as he slipped his phone into the pocket of his Dockers, his eyes on mine.
“What is it,” I said, my heart pounding so hard in my chest, I had to press my palm over it. “What’s wrong?”
He took a deep breath, his chest expanding. He blew it out before he said two words that nearly bowled me over. “Your mother.”
“Huh?” I said, not comprehending. My mother died in a plane crash after she’d run off with one of Dad’s young musicians. Did this have something to do with her estate? Then: Oh God, I thought, they’d finally found her remains in the ocean.
I dropped onto the sofa, thankful it was behind me, or I might have ended up on the floor. “What is it?” I asked. “What did they find?”
“No, it’s not...” my father said, taking the seat beside me and reaching for my hand, his trembling as he did. “Nothing like that, Nessa. She...my God...she showed up at the beach house looking for us.”
I just stared at him as his words seeped into my brain but didn’t seem to make sense. Because she was dead. She’d died in the plane crash over the ocean.
But then he made it really, really clear: “Nessa, your mom...somehow, after all this time. She’s alive.”
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Find me online at http://katrinaabbott.com, follow me on Twitter @abbottkatrina and to see my inspirations for the band members, check out my Pinterest page where I’ve created a board just for them!
Also by Katrina Abbott
The Rosewoods
Taking The Reins
Masquerade
Playing The Part
Reading Between The Lines
This Point Forward
Making Ripples
Acting Out
Hitting the Target
Turning the Page
Crossing the Line
New Beginnings - The Rosewoods Series - Books 1 - 3
Fresh Start: The Rosewoods Series Prequel
The Rosewoods - Bonus Content
I'll Never Forget
Risking it All
The Rosewoods Rock Star Series
Along for the Ride
Going on Tour
Working for the Band
Watch for more at Katrina Abbott’s site.
Working for the Band Page 21
