The Rocker's Muse

“I’m so glad this worked out,” I told her as I shredded some cheese.

“Your aunt Jean sent me the video of you hiccupping.”

I stopped shredding for a moment. “The whole world has seen that, apparently.”

“It doesn’t seem to faze you.” She chuckled.

“Nothing fazes me anymore, Mom.”

She flashed me a sympathetic look, seeming to understand what I meant. “Please tell me you’re happy.”

Happy was a stretch. But things had been better lately. “For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m content. This position leaves me little time to think, which is apparently exactly what I needed.”

She nodded. “I’m so glad you took it. Too much time to think isn’t good.”

“I’m sorry I got here so late. But at least I don’t have to rush out in the morning. I got the day off and get to hang until you have to go to work tomorrow night.”

We continued to chat as we sat together and shared the enchiladas, and after we’d cleaned up, I ventured to my old room. A charm bracelet Jacob had given me years ago sat atop the bureau. That was all it took to make me want to cry. Being back here was always an adjustment at first. So many memories at every corner.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.

A rush of adrenaline hit as I answered. “What’s going on, Tristan?”

“Well, that totally backfired.” He groaned.

“What backfired?”

“I was so fucking braindead tonight after the show that I forgot you said you were taking off for your mother’s house. I ordered freaking Bengay to my suite, and they had Mario deliver it. What a total buzzkill, and it completely defeated the purpose. He wasn’t very happy with me.”

I burst into laughter. “Thanks for the report. I needed that tonight. But you’re an idiot, Tristan. Serves you right. That’s what you get.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your family time. I just…felt like hearing your voice. I know it’s late, but I’m a selfish prick so…”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“Did you have a nice night with your mom?”

“Yeah. We made my favorite enchiladas, and I told her all about the tour. She’s actually a fan of you guys now. She started listening to your music when I found out I got the job.”

“Do me a favor and thank her for creating you for me, okay?”

My cheeks hurt from smiling, but the lingering silence on the other end of the line was deafening. “Are you alright?” I asked.

He sighed. “Are you asking me that because I’m calling you so late, or because you noticed my voice was off tonight?”

“Both, I guess.”

“I’m not okay, to be honest. I wish I could cancel tomorrow night’s show. I’ve never canceled a show, Emily. Not once.”

“Is that an option?”

“Not without serious repercussions, pissing off thousands of people.”

“What would happen if you got sick?”

“I’d cancel, and everyone would have to deal with it.”

“You’ve really never canceled a performance before? In your whole career?”