Page 23 of Bassist With Benefits
“That was fucking awesome!” Cam exclaimed. “Brandon and Derek singing together! Fucking awesome!”
Jeremy glanced at Alan and they exchanged a small laugh at Cam’s over-the-top excitement. Alan bumped Jeremy in the shoulder and stole a potato chip from his plate. Jeremy nudged him back and took a forkful of Alan’s grilled chicken. Their roughhousing and jesting proved that they had fallen back into their usual routine, and Jeremy’s heart sighed with relief. The routine of their camaraderie had been restored, and it was natural and unencumbered.
Cam pushed his plate aside and leaned his elbows on the table. “I wanted to tell you guys something when we first sat down, but didn’t want to say it in front of the cameras. I went over this quarter’s earnings for the restaurants.”
Everyone quieted and turned to Cam, waiting to hear what he had to say. The four of them had each opened specialty restaurants in L.A. a few months before the tour started, and Cam was overseeing the books. He was sort of just double checking to make sure everything was legit. The suggestion to open a restaurant had been Cam’s idea, as a way for Brandon to do something with his money besides spend it, and the rest of them had jumped on board.
“Everything in order?” Jeremy asked.
“I have good news.” Cam wore a gleeful smile. “Start-up expenses are all paid and you each made a hefty profit this quarter. Almost six figures. It’s all gravy from here on in.”
High-fives were exchanged around the table and Brandon let out a loud, “Woo hoo! I want to buy a jet,” he blurted out.
This time, Cam actually did choke on his coffee. “Are you out of your mind? The idea was to put money away for your future, not spend it on extravagances that you don’t need – like a jet! Why in the world would you want to buy a jet? You don’t know how to fly. And don’t tell me you’re gonna take flying lessons now.”
“I never said I was going to fly it.”
“Why the hell do you need a jet, Brandon? That’s an insane expense. You’re better off buying another house.”
Brandon looked down, and his eyes rested on the dog for a moment. When he looked back up at Cam, there was a seriousness to his face and his words. “We’re going on a world tour next year. We both know Brandy’s not going in the cargo area on a commercial flight. And I’m not going without either one of you.”
“You mean… ” Cam swallowed. “You’re buying a jet so she can come with us on tour?” Cam was choked up.
And so was Jeremy. He stared down into his plate to hide the emotion quickly heating his face and moistening his eyes. Friendship. Love. Loyalty. Commitment. That’s what they all shared. No matter what happened, nothing could ever separate them or break the bond that held them together. He stole a glance at Alan, who was unaware that Jeremy was remembering an incident that had taken place between them when they were 18 years old and that would be cemented in Jeremy’s heart forever . . . . .
“Are you all packed?” Jeremy asked. Alan had been talking about the trip to Baja for as long as Jeremy could remember. When Alan turned 18, his parents were sending him and his two brothers on a 14-day trip to Mexico to visit cousins on their father’s side of the family. The best part was that Alan invited Jeremy to accompany them.
Alan clicked the latches closed on his suitcase. “I’m all done. What about you?”
“Yep. I packed last night.” Jeremy socked his friend in the arm. “Thanks for inviting me. We’re gonna have a blast.”
“I just wish Brandon and Derek were able to come, too. It would have been so fucking cool to have my brothers and my best friends all together.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“That’s OK.” Alan smiled at Jeremy. “As long as you’re there it’ll be awesome. Hey, why don’t you crash here tonight? It’ll save my parents a trip to pick you up on the way to the airport. Plus, we can hang out all night.”
“Nah. I can get a ride in the morning. They don’t have to pick me up. My mom is getting all stupid about me being gone. She’s making some special going-away dinner for me tonight.”
Alan snickered under his hand. “Mama’s boy.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
“Did you tell her we plan on moving to L.A.? What’s she gonna do when we start touring?”
The band had just signed a record deal with a major label, thanks to Bulletproof’s new manager, Felix Osbourne. Their lives were about to be turned upside down with the recording of their first studio album and a national tour, and Jeremy’s poor mother wasn’t ready for her oldest son to leave home. “When we get back I’m gonna tell her that we’re all moving to L.A. She knows we’re gonna be gone for a six-month tour soon, and she’s still dealing with that. I was hoping this vacation would kinda get her used to the idea of me not being around so much.”
“Good luck with that.” Alan placed his suitcase on the floor next to his carry-on bag. “Shoot me a text when you’re on your way over in the morning.”
“Cool.” Jeremy fist-bumped his friend. “See you in the a.m.” He jumped into his new Chevy Camaro and turned on the stereo.Bodiesby Drowning Pool filled the car. He turned up the volume and sang along with the windows open and his hair flying in the wind. When he was about a block away from his house, the sounds of sirens cut through the music and made his stomach churn with unease. It was ironic how the sound of an ambulance so close to home automatically made a person assume that something had happened to their family.
Jeremy lowered the volume on the stereo and listened to the high-pitched siren grow louder. A deeper feeling of dread settled into his chest with each second that brought him closer to home. When he turned the corner to his block, the red and white flashing lights lit up the street. He knew they’d be there – an ambulance and a police car – right in front of his house. His heart thudded in his ears, and he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The rear of the car spun out as it took off down the road, and he fought to control the car. He pulled into a parking space faster than he should have and the front tire bounced over the curb. He slammed both feet on the brake and the car came to rest, half on the sidewalk. Without bothering to cut the engine, he slapped the transmission into park, jumped from the car, and flew into the house. “What’s going on? What happened?” he frantically yelled, when he didn’t see anyone in the living room.
“In here!” his mother called from the kitchen. “It’s your father.”
Jeremy raced through the house, his blood pumping so hard he could feel it pulsing in his neck. He found a group of police officers standing in front of the sliding glass doors that opened up to the back yard. His mother, tears streaming down her cheeks, ran to him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
“He was mowing the lawn and just fell to the ground.” She looked up at Jeremy, terror setting her eyes ablaze. “It was a heart attack.”
