2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Hugo
I hadn’t seen Renee or Copeland for hours. We’d driven down to Black Rock from Vancouver together in my SUV for Rocktoberfest. My best friend and her husband were good people. Really, when she started dating Cope, he’d become an unexpected best friend as well. He’d never resented Renee’s closeness to me.
Renee and I had attended teacher’s college at Simon Fraser University together. Then we’d started our teaching careers together at a failing school in an impoverished area of downtown Vancouver, bonding tighter over the challenges. We’d believed we could make a difference, but the lack of resources could grind anyone down. Renee lasted two years before she transferred to a high school in Shaunessy. Different problems for the mostly rich kids there. Certainly not the grinding poverty I saw daily.
I’d stuck it out.
Renee had stood by me during all those years.
Supported me.
Loved me.
Even through the disaster that was Gavin.
I shuddered.
And my thoughts looped back to my friends. They’d decided to drive to Reno in my SUV after we arrived, which was a long trip. We’d come early so we could secure a good spot for our tents. We’d opted for two small ones that fit perfectly under our canopy. I loved Renee, but her snoring was legendary. No medical intervention worked. She was otherwise healthy, so she was letting it ride.
Cope wore earplugs every night.
I planned to as well. Not just because of the proximity to my friend, but also the general noise of the entire environment. Not everyone went to bed well before midnight.
I wandered over to the main stage area and watched as technicians set everything up. I was familiar with sound equipment, of course, but this stuff was next level. I could never afford this for my kids. That thought brought a pang to my heart. Spending a chunk of my salary on instruments and gear the school desperately needed had been a point of contention between Gavin and me.
Well, no longer.
My mind flashed back to Axel as I watched a band wandering across the stage. I didn’t recognize anyone, but that wasn’t a complete surprise. I didn’t bother trying to keep up with everyone. I had my kids to focus on.
Axel.
Ed.
Ed’s hair was long dreadlocks these days while Axel’s was shorter. The styles suited them. Generally I preferred long hair. For a Black man, though, that could be a challenge. My Anglo-Saxon heritage gave me sun-hating white skin, pale blue eyes, and flaming red hair. In teacher’s college, and during my marriage, I’d kept my face smooth and my hair short. Manageable. Respectable. When I found myself divorced at age thirty-two, I rebelled. Grew my hair out. Stopped shaving.
As I scratched my chin, covered by my trim beard, I smiled a little. New flecks of gray appeared with increasing frequency, and I needed to consider whether to shave the damn thing off once and for all, or accept mortality and gray hairs.
My thoughts meandered back to the boys. To the men.
I’d spent a fair chunk of money securing them their first guitars. Acoustic in the ninth grade and electric the next year. Both boys worked part-time jobs, but much of that money went to support their families. Still, they saved enough to help pay for their guitars. They’d been exceptional students. In music, at least. Well, Ed did well in most classes. Axel struggled because of his attention issues. When he played, though, his focus was exceptional.
I turned and headed back to my camping area. A small gust of wind swept through, kicking up a bit of dust. In a previous iteration of my life, I might’ve cared about the grit. This Hugo Threadgold didn’t. What was a little dirt? A little too much sun? Way too many people? When I’d heard Grindstone was performing at Rocktoberfest, I’d convinced Renee we just had to come. And so we had.
Back at our campsite, I eyed my cooler. Knowing hydration was important, I grabbed a bottle of water. I had my refillable one nearby and needed to start using that for the sake of the planet. I plopped into my camp chair under our canopy, and considered everything. I’d planned to skulk around the festival grounds until I accidentally found Axel.
Check.
I would convince him to meet up with me later, when he had a moment.
Check.
Now I had more convincing to do. I didn’t like the idea of manipulating him, but a lot was riding on me coaxing into doing me this one little favor .
I snagged some crackers from our little pantry and a couple of slices of cheese. Hopefully when Axel said when we were meeting by the hot dog truck tomorrow, he meant we were getting hot dogs as well. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d indulged in a hot dog. I glanced down at my middle section. Not as defined as it had once been. Gavin insisted I maintain an almost unachievable level of fitness. Between those gym sessions, my teaching classes, and Gavin’s constant need to be out in society , I’d barely had time to breathe.
Ten years. Get over it.
Except I hadn’t. As Renee reminded me every time I showed up solo at an event. After my marriage crashed and burned, I’d not tried to resurrect the single life. My ex had, with all due speed, married someone far more suitable. Someone who enjoyed the constant glad-handing. Someone with a respectable job who didn’t spend his time in that part of Vancouver. Someone who didn’t love kids and yearn for his own.
As Gavin’s second marriage neared the ten-year mark, I could be vaguely happy he’d found someone more suitable while resenting the loss of my dreams. Sure, I could’ve tried again. But I hadn’t wanted that pain. I’d redoubled my effort with the kids at school as well as volunteered at the cancer ward of the sick kids’ hospital. Anything to fill my days and as many nights as I could. Anything to have excuses not to meet up with my family. The family who couldn’t believe I’d let Gavin get away. The family who also insisted I needed to teach at a prestigious academy in Point Grey. I’d won several teaching awards in the past ten years—they thought I should parlay that into a well-paying job in the outrageously expensive west end of the city.
A wave of fatigue hit me. I hadn’t slept well last night, and if I didn’t get Axel to agree tomorrow, then the rest of the trip wasn’t likely to be much better. This jittery feeling didn’t sit right. Renee, Copeland, and I had brought a two-four of beer, but the twenty-four cans had to last the entire weekend. I didn’t love beer, but didn’t figure I’d enjoy wine in this heat. Renee was a huge brew fan, much to my and Cope’s amusement, although she switched to alcohol-free every time she hoped she might be pregnant.
They’d been trying for several years, and after a couple of miscarriages, I’d stopped mentioning it. I had all my fingers crossed for a miracle, but also hoped maybe they’d consider adoption. They’d make such wonderful parents, and I saw foster kids in need all the time.
Of course, if I was going to have the kids I wanted, I needed to think about adoption too, even without a partner.
Age was catching up for me, much as it was for Renee. I didn’t want to attend my kid’s kindergarten graduation when I was in my sixties. If I didn’t get up off my ass, that might happen. Hell, even that was too optimistic. If nothing changed, there wouldn’t ever be kids.
I left the beer in the cooler. Axel was sober these days. Working hard at it, or so I’d heard. I could totally admit to following everything the band members did. And although I didn’t intend to get close enough to him so he might smell my breath right now, I didn’t want to chance it tomorrow. Just like I didn’t need any more of a buzz today. I considered pulling my acoustic out of my tent, but that felt like too much effort. I checked my phone.
Ah . I only had to kill a couple of hours because Renee and Copeland would eventually return. After setting an alarm, l laid a cool cloth over my eyes and settled for a nap.