Ivory

by Hadley Quinn

  My tour started two weeks later, but the first show was right in my hometown of Chicago. I was a bit doubtful that the concert would fill the United Center…but I was wrong. Tickets had sold out completely a week before the show. I was blown away, but Aaron had an ample amount of gloating to do. I could give him that, but I guess since Ryan and Howie were signed to do my tour with me, my band was mostly back together again. We didn’t have our guitarist, John, for the first show since he was currently finishing up a tour with another band. He’d be joining us for our next stop in L.A., but I had Wes filling in and that was even better. We had a fresh set to share and I was looking forward to it.

  On the night of the show, Ivory was backstage with me while I did some VIP meet-and-greets with the band. Various ticket winners from radio stations were lined up to do a quick hello with us, including a photo. It took about an hour to get through the group, and then I joined Ivory in the next room where she was watching a live feed performance of the opening band on a television screen. I sat with her on the couch, and while we were talking and laughing about a variety of things with Wes, it wasn’t the first time that I noticed Howie’s attention on us—more particularly Ivory.

  It bothered me, obviously. First of all, I’d known Howie and Ryan since I was nineteen years old. We were introduced by our first record label when I was starting out in L.A. We all got along great, had the same goals, and really meshed well instrumentally as a team. That’s how we formed Elixir.

  Ryan and I were more equal personality wise, John was pretty quiet and just did his thing, and Howie was a bit rougher around the edges but we liked him anyway. However, any bad publicity about the band usually came from him and it became a problem. Our manager and label ended up dropping us after one album because Howie Rhodes was a “liability.”

  When my dad introduced me to Aaron, he became our second chance. Howie was told to watch himself and to stay out of the negative spotlight or they’d find someone else to replace him. Over the years he’d matured quite a bit and was a pretty solid bandmate. Our success had skyrocketed with a new manager and label, and I think he realized he was in a good place. Every now and then Ryan and I had to deal with one of Howie’s moods—mainly a cocky attitude or some kind of drunk, aftershow issue—but for the most part he kept himself in check.

  Right now, as I watched him eye my wife every now and then, I was thinking back to all the women he’d taken to his bed over the years. Whether we were on tour or back in L.A., Howie loved the ladies. It was no secret, either. And after he noticed I was watching him look over Ivory, he paused and then gave me a smug smile as he turned away.

  I wasn’t feeling the best vibes from him lately, ever since we’d agreed to do this tour. It wasn’t essential that I had my former band members with me—there were plenty of musicians I could have offered the invitation to—but Aaron had insisted that bringing back Elixir would be a huge fucking treat for the world.

  Something was making me question that now.

  I had to put my feelings aside in order to face the current challenge of performing for a crowd of twenty thousand people. Nerves weren’t an issue—I was actually excited for this show—but the mix of adrenaline with the recent changes in my personal life were a new sort of thrill. I guess I could admit I was a music junkie through and through, and the idea of sharing my passion with Ivory was a huge rush for me. She’d watched us run through sound check earlier, but she was extremely excited to see the show in full effect.

  It’s hard for me to explain the experience I have up on stage. I’ve got my piano and my lyrics, and an audience that paid good money to be immersed in it all. There is something within that interaction for me—sharing my music and conversation with a building full of devoted fans—that fills my soul to the brim. Most of the time I’m at the piano, but sometimes I’m up at a center stage mic to mix things up a bit. I guess the supercharged atmosphere takes me to a different realm of my life; the energy and just plain happiness is contagious and uplifting.

  I never resented my time away from it all. I’d needed it. There wasn’t any reason for me to travel and put myself in front of people at that time. I didn’t need the money, and I didn’t need the exposure, but what I did need was my own direction for a bit. I’d thought that had been my problem—no direction—but looking back, I’m pretty sure I was wrong. Just because I didn’t see my own progress at the time didn’t mean I wasn’t making any. The right people still needed to show up in my life.

  That had been the key turner.

  When the show was all said and done, the energy continued backstage. Ree had watched from VIP seats with Aaron and a few other industry heads, but she joined me twenty minutes later, giving me a huge hug that literally squeezed the air out of me.

  “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

  I wanted to joke about how sweaty I was as she pressed her body up against me, but the thought passed. I could feel her joy and let it linger, allowing my reflection of the night to end on the best note ever.

  Having Ivory in my life.

  “How do you feel?” she asked.

  “Fucking amazing.” It was no joke, either. It felt like the biggest performance high I’d ever had.

  “Well the show was amazing,” she smiled as she leaned back from me just slightly. “Absolutely amazing, Jude. My heart… I just can’t even express how incredibly moving it all was. And not just the talent, but knowing how far you’ve had to walk to get here again. My chest is so full of love and respect right now.”

  Having someone understand you in ways that no one else did was one of the greatest blessings in life. I would have verbally thanked her, but something was said in the room that caught my attention, and it was Howie stating something to Aaron like, “He’s too busy with wife number two right now.”

  I looked his way, just to make sure I’d heard him correctly, and his eyes were on us again. Aaron scoffed and said something under his breath, obviously trying to direct him away, but Howie said, “No, if he’s gonna change shit up and make it into a show for her, then we have a problem.”

  Not really knowing what they’d been discussing, I excused myself from Ree and made my way over. I’m not sure what he’d been referencing, but I’d dedicated one song to my wife and the endearments to introduce it lasted fifteen seconds tops.

  “What’s the issue?” I asked calmly. At this point, Luke wandered closer. As my personal security detail he was always close by, but he was right there by my side if something didn’t seem right.

  Aaron held up his hand like he wanted me to walk away from Howie, but there was something up and it needed to be addressed. I stood there and waited for my bandmate to acknowledge my interest in a conversation, but all he did was reveal some kind of hostility through his eyes.

  “Talk,” I finally said with a shrug. “If there’s something on your mind, say it.”

  His smirk was pissing me off, but I could tell my insistence was challenging him for an argument. That wasn’t my intention, but so be it.

  “I don’t think you really want to tangle with me, Jude,” he narrowed his eyes, even giving Luke a defiant stare.

  I didn’t fucking care if I had a bodyguard right now, and if I wanted a piece of Howie, I knew Luke would step aside and let me take it. “I’m asking you what’s the deal, so spill it.”

  He scoffed. “The deal? The deal is this. If you’re gonna turn every show into a fucking monologue for her, then this tour is a fucking waste of time.”

  “It was one song,” Aaron cut in. “And what’s your problem with that anyway? Jude’s always sharing parts of his life on stage. The crowd fucking loves it. Get over the envy, Howie. Unless you want your ass off this tour, quick being such a cock.”

  Howie laughed, but it wasn’t the jovial, humorous kind. And I was beginning to wonder about Aaron’s “envy” comment. Especially thinking back to his comments weeks ago about this being titled a “Jude Collins Tour” instead of an “Elixir Tour.”

>   “You want more focus on you?” I asked Howie sincerely. “Is that what this is about?”

  “More focus?” he mocked. “Now that you’ve pulled him on board, it’s possible to give me more focus?” He’d motioned to Wes, and even though he was across the room, he and several others were listening to the exchange.

  Wes was a talented musician, and with John not with us tonight—our lead guitarist who could also sing and was very interactive with the crowd—a replacement was needed. There wasn’t a better guy than Wes to take his place. I didn’t regret that for a single second, but I didn’t know why Howie did.

  “Man, I’m up for ideas if you have them,” I said. “I always ask you guys for input and this tour was no different. Speak up.”

  “Well this tour is a little different. And you’d better realize that, Jude.” He leveled me with his gaze before glancing toward Ree. I needed to know what the hell his issue was with her.

  “What the fuck does that mean? And if you have a problem with my wife being here, you can go fuck yourself, Howie.”

  “Come on, guys,” Aaron mediated, putting a hand against both our chests. “Let’s not do this here. Let’s go eat with the rest of the crew, get some sleep, and we’ll talk about this at your next rehearsal. Just cool off, guys.”

  Howie stepped back with a huff. He was glaring at us both, but his smirk was telltale and I knew something assertive was coming next. “You can both go fuck yourselves. And find a new bass player, I’m done.”

  “Whoa, hold on, dude,” Aaron called after him as he turned. “Don’t be so rash, Howie! Your fans would be extremely disappointed if you backed out now.”

  “It’s not my doing,” he retorted over his shoulder as he walked away. “I’m sick of this bullshit.”

  “Man, come on…” Aaron sighed, shaking his head. He looked at a loss for words.

  “Just let him go,” I said. I was extremely disheartened by whatever was going on, but obviously Howie needed to step away for a bit. If he wanted to talk later on, fine, but if not… new things were in store. I didn’t have room for drama in my life.

  He suddenly turned around and faced us with a sarcastic chuckle resonating from him. “That’s right, Jude, just let me go. Like other people in your life, huh? You don’t care if they’re around so you just turn your back and pretend they aren’t there?”

  “What the fuck is he talking about?” Aaron murmured.

  I shook my head because I didn’t know either.

  “What about this one?” Howie asked, motioning to Ivory. “She another one you’re gonna get tired of and pretend doesn’t exist? Oh you talk her up big now, but she’s just another Lily to you. Don’t think we’re all stupid.”

  I was not expecting that at all, whatever it was, and why he’d bring up Lily was beyond my comprehension.

  “What are you talking about?” Ryan asked him, my drummer now coming closer to the group. “And why is Jude’s personal life any business of yours?”

  “Why is Jude’s personal life…” he muttered under his breath.

  “I bring my wife to these shows, too. You have a problem with that?” Ryan’s arms were now folded across his chest and I could tell he was seriously affronted.

  “You at least keep tabs on your wife,” Howie smiled as he looked between the two of us. Then he looked straight at me and added, “Wife number one for Jude wasn’t so loyal.”

  30

  News spreads pretty quickly, even when it starts in your own camp. All it takes is a piece of information to be heard and then whispered in “confidence” to someone else, and so on and so forth. I’m not saying I didn’t have people I could trust, but it was inevitable that there was always someone that didn’t see the harm in sharing gossip. Eventually that “news” travels into the hands of people who don’t give a damn where it goes.

  There were some amazing write-ups about the show in Chicago. It was obviously a huge success, fans were satisfied and raving on social media and beyond, and ticket sales for the four other venues we were scheduled to perform at all sold out within the next few days. However, with as much music talk as there was, there was an equal amount of tabloid coverage on the other issue, which was “the unfortunate shock that Jude Collins got backstage.”

  I’ll admit it was definitely a cruel and spiteful thing to throw at someone like that. I couldn’t entirely blame Howie, though—especially if what he’d insinuated was true. He seemed to be in a bad place in life and I faulted myself for not realizing it. During our meetings and rehearsals as a band he’d been somewhat subdued. I associated it with the four-year hiatus of mine and the lack of communication between he and I, but maybe there’d been more to it besides just being disappointed that I’d essentially pulled our band out of the scene back then.

  But despite whatever was going on with Howie, the hardest part of the frenzy was when questions of my daughter’s paternity started getting thrown around. That’s when I almost lost my shit and went to war with the media. I knew without a doubt Annalise was mine. Not only did she have my eyes and the same birthmark on her shoulder, but I’d done a paternity test on her after she was born. With all of the uncomfortable feelings I had about Lily, I needed to be sure.

  The rest of the world could go to hell for bringing my little girl’s name into a negative light.

  “Missy called.”

  My grief was granted a reprieve as Ivory draped her arms around me from behind. I’d been sitting at the computer, trying to replace one set of thoughts with another. An ounce of creativity wasn’t to be found in my body, so work was out of the question, and social media was turning into another fathomless ocean of rumors and hearsay and I avoided it completely.

  Aaron was busy sorting out shit with Howie’s abrupt departure—apparently the guy really wasn’t coming back to finish out the tour. I couldn’t say I held it against him. Obviously there was a lot of buried issues that were starting to resurface, and even though Aaron told me to let go of it, there was so much history between us it was hard to do that. Wes could fill in and play bass as soon as John returned, but I wasn’t even worried about that. Logistics always worked themselves out on stage somehow; when human elements were involved it was a different story.

  “What’d she want?” I asked, spinning in my chair to face my wife.

  She straddled my lap and sat down, wrapping her arms around my neck. “She just wanted to check on you. Make sure I was feeding you.”

  Her smile made me smile. “If Missy lived here, we’d both be twice the size we are.”

  “I have no doubt about that,” she agreed. She leaned her forehead against mine. “I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Let’s go get milkshakes.”

  The idea was appealing, so I instantly agreed. I gave Luke a call to see if he’d drive us, and thirty minutes later we were pulling out of the basement garage for an impromptu date.

  I’d been pretty lost in my own thoughts for the past week, caught up in innumerable scenarios because of Howie’s drama after the show. I knew Ivory was willing to talk about anything and everything, and we did, but I was still torn between resolving past issues or deciding if they even needed resolving. Whether or not Lily had cheated on me with Howie, I didn’t know. And if she did, there was nothing to be done about it now. The only thing that concerned me was how blind I must have been to it all. And then all of my conversations with her continued to repeat in my head, conversations that may have been her way of coming clean.

  Especially the night she died. Everything about that night held so many secrets still. The way she’d been acting was unlike her, and just my overall feel for some reason. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever have all the answers I needed, but maybe that’s what I needed to accept. Once my life had moved on with Ivory, I’d put all of that behind me.

  Funny how the past never seems to stay buried. Something still didn’t feel right.

  “Hey man, can we stop at The Urchin?” I asked Luke as we headed ba
ck home.

  “Sure thing.”

  Ree didn’t even cast me a curious glance because she knew. Some things just needed to be said from a piano, and that’s where I was headed.

  We entered through the back door. It was only four in the afternoon on a Thursday and the restaurant had less than two-dozen patrons. Blake wasn’t at all shocked to see us, and when I went straight for the piano, Ree sat down at the bar and faced the stage. As always, the customers that day were surprised. I introduced myself anyway, admitted to feeling the urge to play and hoped they didn’t mind that I’d dropped by.

  I began a simple, familiar-to-me cadence to start out, feeling exactly what it was I wanted to play. It came to me effortlessly, almost like an act of kindness because it’s what I needed. It was a cover song, but one I could relate to. I sang about the land of a billion lights, the hills of Hollywood on fire, being lost yet finding yourself.

  It was my time spent in Los Angeles in my earlier years. It was an intense and extremely reflective piece for me, one of my favorites to just let go on. My connection to music was extreme, and oftentimes I would put myself in someone’s place—like Ivory’s—and view my own stuff with that kind of passion. It would seriously make me emotional. If my music could do for some like others’ music did for me… I’d found my purpose. It was all I could ask for in life.

  There was no better feeling than to be transformed and refined through the power of music.

  I ended up playing a couple more songs just for fun, said departing words, and then left. I felt good. My soul had been recharged. My wife was holding my hand and we were headed home, and there was nothing for me to complain about. I was blessed in a way I knew others were not, and even though I had my hangups that slowed me down and peppered me with doubt, I would never lose sight of what I wanted in life.

  “You know I am extremely afraid right now,” Wes mock whispered to me.