Page 62 of See Her

“So when you came on the scene already married to Erin…” I prompt him, hoping for any grain of wisdom he’s willing to share.

“It was hard on her.” He looks up solemnly, as if he’s remembering all too well. I can see, even today, he hurts for his wife. “There were fights, friction between me and the other guys. She left for a little while…” He trails off a moment while he slugs back a gulp of his drink while I do the same, hoping to burn away the sinking feeling I just got in my gut. “We’d already been married for a few years, though.” He tips his drink in my direction. “Our marriage wasn’t so new, so it was a little easier to work out the kinks,” he points out before shaking his head and waving his hands with a blink. “But listen, what matters is whether you can be steadfast through that initial storm. The only way out is through, and then it’s smooth sailing after that.”

“What do you mean?” I feel my eyebrows stitch together.

“I mean be unfaltering in your devotion to her,” he explains, “no matter how she’s reacting to things, don’t give in to any other shit. You want to stay a married man, act like one, even if she goes a few days without talking to you.” He huffs heavily, and I’m guessing he’s experienced this. Ouch. This conversation is making me feel both better and worse here. “Balance is key,” he continues. “Don’t give in, but don’t be an ass about it. Make sure people get the message that you’re off the market, but don’t let that become the focus over the band. If you see it becoming an issue, walk away before it can. Do you see where I’m going with all this?”

I nod, feeling a little bit lighter. I don’t know if it’s the talk or the alcohol, but the vice grip on my insides has lessened. I do feel like pieces of what he’s saying are clicking together. If I just stay solid, and so does Mayzie, we’ll get through this one way or another. I just hope it’s the easiest way possible. Hopefully I’ll learn when to stand up and when to stand down as we go along; that we’ll find the balance he’s talking about.

“Hic!” I hear Mayzie hiccup beside me as she grabs onto my arm to steady herself, and George smiles down at her like she’s the cutest, drunk little thing he’s ever seen. “I just saw some people getting it on in the bathroom,” she reports. “I didn’t want to interrupt. Hic!” she squeaks again.

Sweet Jesus.

My girl is tossed. Add that to the fact it’s been a long day and she’s the early-to-bed, early-to-rise type, and her minutes are numbered.

George tosses his head back and laughs. “You know, Jack, it’s the first night and you guys have been real troupers. Why don’t you take your poor girl to bed? You’ve put in enough face time.”

“Are you sure?” I say, reaching out to steady Mayzie. I think she’s only got a couple more minutes of consciousness left in her before she involuntarily shuts down.

“Yeah, I’m sure. This part takes some easing into.Go ahead; we’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks, man,” I say, clapping him on the back, before putting my hands on Mayzie’s waist and steering her towards the exit.

We get to our room and clean up, with Mayzie half asleep during it all.When she walks over to the bed and strips down to absolutely nothing before climbing in, I decide I’m notthattired. I follow suit, climb in, and sweet talk her into making lazy love with me for a while before letting her pass out. She’s such a sweet and willing participant. It’s after three in the morning, and I have an arm draped over her when I finally drift off to the sound of her adorable snore.

Mayzie

BEEP!BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Ugggghhh…A happy wake-up, this is not. I hear a groan beside me as Jack’s hand slams down on the alarm clock. That’ll show it. My head is pounding and my mouth feels like cotton. He rolls over to me and kisses my shoulder.

“Morning,” he says, cuddling into my back.

“Uggghh,” I grunt in response.

“Hungover, baby?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Not really.”

“How dare you.”

“Tired as fuck, though.”

Lucky him. He’s so much bigger than I am, and can hold his drink.

We get in the shower, which makes me feel marginally better, and get dressed.We pack up our things and head down to the lobby, which has a coffee cart, thank the merciful heavens.Lattes in hand, we pull our luggage to the back exit of the hotel, as we were instructed to do the day before. There’s an SUV waiting for us, and it drives us back to the concert venue.

The next couple of weeks is a spinning blur of performances, sound checks, radio interviews, nearly getting taken out by roadies carting heavy equipment, screaming, predominantly female fans trying to weasel their way into backstage areas, meet and greets, and more.

I’ve learned lingo likeload-in,bus call, and my personal favorite,subject to change.

The bus has become my favorite place. It’s like the only scrap of normal crammed into a tight space. The interior is sleek, with plushy lounge chairs and couches built into the window seat,and that’s just the lounge area at the front.There is also a bunk area that runs down the middle of the bus, each one the size of a twin bed with a curtain to draw for privacy.

Sometimes the hustle freaks me out, and other times it inspires me. I’ve taken time out from my copyright jobs to log the crazy things I see into a rapidly growing document. For one thing, the guys seem to have gone a little stir crazy and have taken to pranking each other to keep themselves sane. Things like that, along with crazed fan shenanigans, have made for some interesting writing, and I’m thankful. When I can’t hang around Erin or be with Jack, I have something going to keep me grounded as one crazy tour stop blurs into the next.

30

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