Page 137 of Fury

I didn’t respond.

“It’s going well, and just keeps getting better and better, and I want to give it a real shot, so I can’t meet up with you anymore.”

I breathed out.

Almost ten years had passed since me and Tania had started meeting up. Life was moving on, no matter how I tried to shape and mold it to my will, to keep it still or keep it narrow. I was glad for her. She should be getting on with her life, not slipping me in whenever and wherever as we’d been doing over the years. We’d had our fun. We’d both gotten satisfaction out of it.

I was going to miss it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice filling the silence between us.

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Lenore had gotten married, had her son. And now Tania was actually committing to a relationship. We were all older now, were we wiser? Stronger?

“You be happy, Tania.”

“I will,” she replied, her voice steadier. “I want you to be happy too.”

I didn’t answer. I hung up.

39

“Idon’t know where you are,but I do know where you aren’t.” Eric made a face, his lips bunching together as he packed his guitar into its traveling case. “And that’s here.”

I braced for yet another argument. “I’m right here, Eric. With our son—”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s your excuse—Beck.”

“Beck is not an excuse. You’re the one out of town all the time.”

Eric glanced quickly at his Blackberry and shoved it into his pocket. “What I’m saying is that when I am home, you’ve got so much shit going on in your head, it’s like you’re not even here. You’re still having the nightmares, talking in your sleep, but you’re not getting any help.”

“For shit’s sake, I’m not into therapy like you and all your friends are.”

“It might help you, but the point is, you’re just not willing to go there.”

I used to have nightmares regularly—about Med, about Motormouth, Turo. But they had all faded. Eric was wrong. Dreams of Finger haunted me now. Ever since I’d had the baby, Finger’s face, his voice, his touch, even had come back to haunt me, as if the vault door had suddenly sprang open inside me. I’d woken up this morning in a sweat at the memory of his words.

“You’re the villain here. Not me.”

Disappointment settled over me like a layer of wet cement hardening quickly.

“What’s the matter, Eric? You need more attention from me?” I lashed back.

He propped the guitar case up on the sofa. “It’d be nice for a change, instead of being your goddamn afterthought. I get that you work, I know Beck’s a handful. But when we’re both in the same location, you don’t act like you really want me here. I feel like I’m in your goddamn way.”

I chewed on my lips, staring at my bare feet. He had a point. In the beginning of our relationship, I enjoyed spending every minute with him and the other members of Cruel Fate and their crew. But it had gotten tedious real quick, especially when I was in the last months of my pregnancy. Once I had Beck, who we named after Eric’s rock hero, Jeff Beck, I’d preferred to stay home with my baby, rather than be a part of Eric’s background noise.

Eric ran a hand through his thick mop of blondish brown hair. “I’m a little busy as a working musician here. I wish I could take years off between albums to hang out with you and live in our castle in the south of France drinking Evian or some shit, but those of us who aren’t superstars have to actually sweat for a living. If I’m not out there touring, I’m writing and recording. The pressure to produce is harsher than ever, Len. Album sales are tanking, you know this. We haven’t had a hit single in years.”

“I know. Sales are shit for everyone, Eric. All I’m saying is that we’ll never get this time back with Beck. You weren’t around when he started to eat solid foods, to speak, to walk, his first day of school.”

“I know, but it doesn’t mean I’m a shit dad if I can’t be around because of work. Fuck, there you go again, turning this into something else—I’m supporting us, I only wish you could support me!” His voice rose.

“I do support you! How can you say that? I stopped working full time so I could be there for you whenever and wherever you needed me. I was always the first to compromise in this relationship, especially now that we have Beck.”

“You’re the mother!” he shouted.

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