Page 14 of Rock and a Hard Place

“That’s beautiful, Peter. Something new?” Peter’s mom eased into the seat across from him to enjoy the gentle melody he played on the guitar. The bus rolled on toward New Mexico, and his brothers played video games in back.

“Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about it.” He held the guitar as if it were an extension of his body. His fingers manipulated the strings on his acoustic guitar and created a beautiful sound that drifted through the bus.

“That’s always a good sign,” she said.

Peter knew he possessed an innate talent for songwriting. When inspired, magic flowed and hits were born, but if he tried to force it, the songs flopped.

“You were gone a long time when we stopped in Rockville,” his mother said.

“Yeah, great day for a walk.” He strummed, working out a chord. “Did you know there are amazing rock formations farther in the park? One trail goes way back, and the temperature is, like,twenty degrees cooler, with ferns and moss growing everywhere.” He stopped playing. “It’s really cool.”

“Is it your inspiration for this new song?” she asked with the hint of a smirk.

“Yeah, I guess.” He resumed playing, the music calling him back.

“Did your new friend show it to you?”

His head snapped up, and his mom smiled. “How’d you know?”

Her eyebrows rose, and her head tilted in suggestion.

“Adam.” Peter frowned. “Of course.”

“He can’t help himself. He’s just having fun,” she said with a gentle smile. “So tell me about this girl. What’s her name?”

“Libby.” Her beautiful face flashed in his mind.

“And?”

“And what?” He grinned, not about to offer more.

“Tell me about her. When my son disappears for two hours with a girl, I get to ask questions.”

“Mom, I’ll be eighteen soon, and then you don’t get to ask anymore,” he teased.

“That’s what you think. Mothers have amazing powers of persuasion.”

Peter laughed. “There’s not much to tell. She lives in Rockville.”

“Two hours and that’s all you got? You want to tell me how you filled the rest of the time?”

Petergrinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He strummed randomly.

“Peter.” She pierced him with her sternest mom glare. He laughed. “Okay, here’s something juicy for you.

She’s never heard of Jamieson.”

His mother looked doubtful. “I didn’t think that was possible. Everyone knows about Jamieson, unless they live under a rock.”

“I’m not gonna lie—I didn’t think it was possible, either, but she seriously had no idea. It’s pretty nice, really. When I told her about the band, she figured we play weddings and school dances.”

“I see why you like her,” she said.

“She’s nice,” he said, but offered nothing more and began to play again.

His mom sat quietly and listened for a while.

“You know, on Saturday we’ll be going back through that area.”

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