Page 169 of Verses

“Um…that’s great, Mom.” I hoped my forced enthusiasm would quell her desire for an argument, something she’d always seemed to thrive on.

“That’s alittlebetter.” After a short pause in which I imagined she’d been waiting for me to say something but failed to take the bait, she said, “Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”

“You already saidMexico.”

“Yes, but that would be like me saying I’m visiting the United States.”

And here we were arguing anyway. Much as part of me wanted to keep bickering because I found her manipulative tactics irritating, I more wanted her to get to the point so I could end the conversation. “Okay,wherein Mexico?” I could have also pointed out to her that I knew nothing of Mexico, so whatever she said would sound like another planet anyway.

“Ensenada.”

I could simply say something nice, likeoh, that’s great, but I chose the truth. “I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s in Baja California.”

“Oh, I know where that is.” And I decided I might as well be nice. “That sounds like fun.”

“It will be. After all these years, I’m finally getting the recognition I deserve.”

Her words rang in my brain like a gigantic bell, reverberating against the bone of my skull. There was that word again:deserve. And it had been one of those concepts that had stuckwith me since childhood…that feeling of not being worthy of good things but of somehow having earned an unhappy life. Why had I felt that way for so long?

Iknewwhy.

But as I heard my mother talk about “deserving” recognition—for being alive?—and relishing the supposed rewards she’d reaped, I knew that ugly voice in my head telling me I deserved nothing but the worst was bullshit. I might not have deserved a bed of roses or a treasure chest full of gold, but I was worth more than I’d ever given myself credit for.

I was worthy of love.

More than that, though, I’d always been afraid of becoming just like my mother. But the fact that she felt like this gift from Phil was proof that she’d earned a reward rather than realizing it was a way he could express his love for her…that she thought of it as something to put on a scorecard rather than something to simply appreciate—thattold me my point of view was drastically different.

And I wouldneverbecome my mother. There was no way in hell that could ever happen.

“So tell me all about this cruise, Mom. Give me all the details.”

And, while my mother rattled on incessantly, I thought about myself in a whole new light.

During the band’snext practice, Intent to Murder kicked ass. I knew as a group we were all feeling optimistic about our future. It didn’t hurt that we got a standing ovation from a crowd in the bar full of more customers than just the regulars.

Were more people there because of us or were they just really thirsty for beer? I suspected it was because of us, and it was due to our slightly publicized practice. Word was spreading that we were back.

On this particular evening, before the crowd sat down again, a couple of people called for an encore. Pedro said into his mike, “Dudes, thank you so much. We’re grateful that you love our shit, but we’re just practicing. If you want an encore, you’re gonna have to come see a real show—and we’re almost ready.”

As a band, we all stood together as if we were performing a curtain call for a high school play. Then we hugged each other, and I could feel the energy.

Wewereclose, and we all knew it. That magical moment we’d been waiting for had arrived.

As we let go of each other and the crowd’s cheering faded, I caught Wolf’s eye. “Can we talk?”

Because it was Wednesday night, I knew he didn’t have to tend bar, so we could talk without interruption.

But he hesitated. Was I too late? Had I hurt him too badly with my words the other day? All these years, I’d doubted that what I had to say mattered…that the words I composed into verses and sang into the microphone were nothing more than feathers blowing in the wind—but I’d been wrong. They were heavy and sharp and well-defined.

They could do serious damage…or they could heal.

“Yeah. But not here.”

I nodded. “We could take a walk.” I had to walk home anyway, but the evenings were no longer cold, and all I needed was a jacket.

“Give me a minute.”

---