Page 35 of Riding Danger

I pulled into another small town and spotted a diner immediately. Breakfast sounded like an absolutely perfect idea.

I walked straight up to the counter. The woman looked like she walked out of a nineteen-fifties diner, complete with a pink button-up dress with a white collar and an apron. She even had one of those little hat things on her head. “Hey, honey. What can I do for you?”

“Coffee and a menu, please.”

She pointed to the chalkboard at the back of her. “There's a menu and I will bring you that coffee.”

“Thanks.” I gave the menu a quick look. When she came back out, I was ready to order. “I’ll have an order of pancakes, and if you have jello, I’d love that instead of syrup.”

The woman smiled at me. “Jello?”

“I know it’s weird.” Not many people appreciated the taste combination.

“My dad used to have pancakes with homemade strawberry jam.” The warmth in the woman’s voice was easily detected. “And he was the best man I know.”

“Really?” That surprised me. It wasn’t often I heard that sentiment. “Can’t say the same about my dad. He wasn’t exactly a present growing up.”

“Yeah.” The woman placed my order in the hatch between the kitchen and the front. “That’s something you and my daughter have in common. Her dad isn’t around much either.”

I looked around the diner and noted that except for the elderly couple at the back, I was the only customer. I leaned forward, resting my arms on the counter. It was time to get comfortable and do some research.

16

RYDER

Singing is the one thing I knew I was born to do. As far back as I could remember, the stage provided me with a safe space. It was the one place I felt confident and like I knew what I was doing.

My childhood and teen years were filled with choir practices and competitions. My mother would drive me from one town to the next, to enter me in competitions. Sometimes I looked forward to it, and sometimes she dragged me kicking and screaming. If the prizes involved cash, she would always insist I enter. It didn’t matter how I felt. And while I loved singing and anything to do with music, I was also a kid who wanted to play with his friends.

At ten, she forced me to participate in a talent show while I had chicken pox. Needless to say, I did not win that one.

When my voice broke, she had no hesitation in telling me how I was not pulling my weight. And then, when I could return to my music, she was elated at the fact that my voice had improved.

At seventeen she entered me into the competition which got me into The Poets. Since then, I’ve rarely heard from her. Ideposit money into her banking account every month and unless she needs more, she rarely contacts me. I had also gotten too used to the fact that the only time she contacted me was when she needed more than the substantial monthly amount that I provided.

Still, seeing her name on my phone gave me a familiar jolt. A reminder that I did have family, dysfunctional as it was. I hit the green button and let out a long breath, wondering what she needed from me.

“Hey, Mom.”

Without a greeting or any other preamble, she laid right into me. “You fired Terrence.”

Too much had happened over the last few weeks for me to show her much politeness when it came to my former manager. “If you know I fired him, then you know why I did.”

“Because you believe the word of some slut over the man who has shepherded your career for more than a decade.” Her voice was high and tight, and not for the first time I wondered if there was something happening between her and my manager. “You’re an ungrateful little shit.”

I took a long deep inhale, closed my eyes and took control of my anger. A few weeks back, I would’ve argued with her, but now I knew that it wasn’t worth it. When I reopened my eyes, I spoke with a calmness I didn’t know I possessed. “Mother, you have a grandson. Shouldn’t that be your concern?” Then another thought hit me. “Was Terrence giving you a cut as well?”

“Of course he was. I deserve it after everything I did for you. I was the one who recognized your talent and who took you all over the state so you could win those contests.”

I didn’t point out that she used me and the prize money I earned so she didn’t have to work. I also didn’t need to confirm my suspicions that Terrence had my mother on her back. Andhe had also probably contacted her hoping she could sway my opinion.

The reality was that in the past she probably could have. That was before I saw what family actually looked like. And while I was not prepared to just abandon my mother, I had no feelings toward a man who kept me from my son for over a decade.

Fortunately, I did not have to continue arguing with my mother as Jason walked into the studio. “Mom, I need to go. I have work to do. You can expect the transfer as per usual.”

Jason was closely followed by my former bandmates. We’d broken up a few years back when two of us wanted to break out with solo careers and the other two wanted to pursue other interests. My mother and Terrence had a lot to say about that at the time as well. In hindsight, I could see they were afraid of losing their cash cow. Boy bands made a lot of money, far more than the sum of the individual solo careers.

Before my mother had a chance to reply, I hit the red button and turned to the men entering the room. On the Californian leg of my tour, I wanted to do some kind of a reunion with them. Roan, the best songwriter among us, had written something that was perfect for us to release during the tour. The song was about nostalgia and remembering being young. My album and tour would be called New Horizon and the song would be a good fit for it.

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