Page 49 of Out of the Blue

Chapter 16 - Trent

Happy with how our rehearsal went for the first time in ages, and at a bar with my guys, plus my girl, I raise my Bud into the air. “I bet New Hampshire is going to be our best gig yet.” Everyone cheers.

I allow the moment to sink in. I’m going to see Auntie Gloria again tomorrow. And meet her family. Family. Not a word I ever thought I’d be excited about again, but Cordy’s helped me see how good it can be. Reaching out, I wrap my arm around my girlfriend and kiss her forehead.

The bar’s filled to the brim, which I’m sure is different for them at four in the afternoon. Besides the band, most of our roadies and crew joined us. Laughter and excited chatter fill the space. Cordy’s called over by one of our roadies, Hector. She kisses my cheek and disappears.

Across from me, Dwight’s hands bang on his legs in a never-ending beat. He still gets like this when he’s excited. Much less so than when we were kids, but still. Buoyed by my good mood, I yell, “Yo, Dwight, your ADHD is showing!”

His caramel hands still, and he looks from side to side. In two seconds, he crosses the bar and smacks me upside the head, grumbling, “Not cool, bro.”

Realization hits me much harder than my best friend’s rebuke. When we were kids and our guidance counsellor told him to take up drums as a way to manage his ADHD, he made me promise never to tell anyone about his diagnosis. Even though it’s been over two decades, I can tell my stupid comment hurt. Our gazes meet. “Shit. Sorry man.”

His jaw clenches and he nods.

I glance around and thankfully no one is paying attention to us. I order him his favorite drink as an apology. When the dirty martini arrives, his eyebrow quirks. After he swallows, he gives me his benediction. “Forgiven.”

Feeling better about my faux pas, it’s time for me to address my burning issue. I toss out, “Do any of you have any tickets for the concert in New Hampshire? Promised family there’d be some for them at Will Call.”

Dwight furrows his brow. “Who?”

“Auntie Gloria.”

He claps me on the back. “Beyond cool, man. I remember her from ages ago. And, of course, she was at your mom’s, well, funeral.”

Relieved we’re truly back on an even keel, I glance toward my girlfriend. “Cordy encouraged me to call. I’m looking forward to seeing her and her family, under much happier circumstances.”

“Righteous.” He offers his fist, which I bump. “But we don’t have any tickets, right guys?”

Joey and Maurice shake their heads. Joey puts down his drink. “Both Keith and Raine had to hit some Apex thing, so I think you should ask Brax. He told us to call him Brax. Isn’t that cool?”

While the others voice their agreement, I bite the inside of my cheek. Cordy approaches me and reaches out so her thumb rubs against the back of my palm. Although her touch doesn’t soothe. “Fine. Anyone know where he is?”

Maurice answers, “Didn’t they go over to a radio station for an interview?”

Joey agrees. “That’s right. Should be finishing up in about an hour and will be back at the hotel afterward.”

Where would be better for me to approach him? I never wanted to have to askhimfor anything, but there’s no way around it. At the radio station or in this hotel? No brainer. The radio station is much more neutral.

I’m too wound up to take a car service to the station, so I elbow Dwight. “Can I borrow your Harley?”

He fishes into his pocket. “For a good cause. I can’t wait to see Auntie Gloria again, too.” He drops his keys into my open palm.

“Thanks, brother.”

“And wear a helmet, Evel Knievel.”

“You got it.”

Keys clamped in my fist, I want some encouragement before making this trek. Grabbing my girlfriend by the waist, I bring us over to the corner of the room near her stuff. I slam her against the wall and kiss her hard. When I pull back, she holds onto my body to regain her equilibrium. A satisfied smirk steals across my face.

Maurice whistles. “Have at it!” Our roadies join him with some choice suggestions.

Ignoring their crass comments, I push Cordy’s hair off her neck. “I’ll see you back in our suite.” I bite her earlobe. “Be ready for me. Naked.” I smack her ass and leave the room. If only asking for these tickets didn’t feel like I was heading on stage without my band or guitar.

I park Dwight’s Harley in a space near the front of the local radio station’s building. Unbuckling the helmet strap from around my chin, I close it up in the compartment at the back and follow the pavers leading to the front door.

This is the first time I’m actively seeking out my “father,” and to ask him for a favor no less. Well, it’s not exactly a favor. As the opening band, we’re entitled to some tickets. So, I’m only getting what’s mine.

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