Page 27 of Shattered Chords

The club was loud and stuffy. The rock music roaring in the background made me feel out of place in my capris and high heels. I realized most parents had on shorts, jeans, and tees. This wasn’t a PTA meeting. This was a concert. Harper and I had left work early and in a rush. I hadn’t had enough time to think through my outfit, and now I looked like a bottle of milk someone had shelved in the nondairy section by mistake.

On the main floor, employees were rearranging tables and chairs to make more room for the standing audience. The stage crew worked on the light fixtures. Two security guards were stationed near the bar area. I noted a few familiar faces and a couple ofReserved signs on the tables at the booths lining the walls as we made our way through the room.

“Where do we unload?” Harper asked, looking around.

“Usually in the back, but we can just bring everything in through the front, I think,” Ally explained, adjusting her grip on the guitar case. “I’m going to ask Cal if he can help with the amps.”

Pauline, her best friend and bandmate, who also happened to be the lead singer, emerged from one of the doors near the stage. She wore a matching outfit. Tight jeans and a Falling In Reverse top with a dozen rips that showcased her black lacy bra, which I wasn’t fond of.

“Hey, you! Ohmigod! Ohmigod! I’m so nervous.” Pauline rushed over.

Ally lit up. “I know! Me too.”

There was a whole lot of jumping, hugging, and squealing as if these two hadn’t spent the last five days together in the Keatons’ garage, preparing for tonight’s show.

Harper and I blindly followed the girls backstage and down a narrow equipment-cramped hallway. We passed several doors and ducked into the last room on the left. The Keatons, both father and mother, were there. Jules wore jean shorts and a black T-shirt with the band’s logo splashed across her breasts and Ross sported a matching hoodie with the logo on the back and a pair of khakis. I wasn’t sure how he was still alive and breathing with so much clothing on in this weather, but he was someone else’s husband; therefore, I didn’t need to worry about his well-being. I had my hands full with Ally and Harper.

Jules and Ross Keaton were interesting. High school sweethearts, they married very young, then divorced, then married again. Pauline was their only daughter. Her cousin Trent played drums in Systematic. Skinny, tall, with toxic green-colored hair that hung loosely over his face, he reminded me of a street artist you’d see playing some exotic homemade instrument on the Venice Beach promenade. At first, I’d found it odd that a nineteen-year-old wanted to be in a band with two minors, but after I attended a couple of rehearsals, my worry abated. Trent wasn’t a threat to my daughter’s virtue. Or anyone’s virtue. He was the geeky type who cared about his drums and his hamster.

“Hi, honey!” Jules extended her hands to greet me.

“Hi. How are you?” I gave her a smile while my eyes followed Ally. She and Pauline meandered through the cluster of guests with such finesse, you’d think they were born into this. Pauline actually was, since Ross was in a local rock band during his college years. Jules worked for a PR firm, so she knew a lot more about the ins and outs of the entertainment industry than I did.

The dressing room was stuffed with people of all ages and smelled like sweat. I made note of two guys who looked to be in their twenties according to their wristbands and the beer the one with a dark shock of hair and a flat expression on his smug face nursed. They scowled at Ally and Pauline, a brief exchange took place, then the girls moved on to the next group.

“Too bad you didn’t see them rehearsing last night.” Jules pulled me into a hug, and her lips smacked near my cheek as she exercised a loud air-kiss. “They were phenomenal.”

A streak of awkward jealousy squeezed my stomach. Two days ago, when I asked Ally if I could stop by to see her rehearse with the band, my daughter had told me not to micromanage her music career. Those were her exact words. She didn’t want me around when she was with her friends.

Was I really embarrassing my kid?

Pushing back my distressed thoughts, I said, “You remember Harper, right? Ally’s godfather?”

“Pleasure.” Jules drew him into an embrace.

“The pleasure is all mine, sweets,” Harper squealed with a twist in his face when they broke apart. His gaze darted around the room, evaluating the crowd that grew tighter with each second.

Ross pushed his way in and shook our hands. “How are you guys doing?”

“Nervous,” I confessed.

“They killed it last night. The neighbors weren’t very happy.” Jules laughed, and anxiety flitted across her features.

“I hope it’s not a problem they rehearse at your place?”

“Oh, no. Absolutely not,” Ross reassured me. His voice dropped to a whisper. “At least we can keep an eye on them.” He gave me a wink.

“Good point.” Harper nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’re happy to do it,” Jules babbled. Eyes wide, she leaned forward. “Eva just told me Jesse Catchum is coming to see the show.”

I didn’t know who Jesse Catchum was, but judging by the level of excitement in Jules’ voice, he was obviously someone important.

“Wow, really?” I gave Harper a sideways glance.

“Mom!” Ally leapt over. Her face was flushed and she looked every bit the wreck a musician should be before their first show. “Can I have your car keys? Cal’s gonna help me with the amp.”

I fished them from my purse. “Do you want me to go with you?”

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