Chapter 14 #2
“It’s not much, I promise. I was wondering if… you could keep Gene away from our room tonight? Maybe he could crash with you or Dennis? This is not just for me. I think Carol would appreciate some space away from him. Right, Carrie?” He looks at her, and she nods.
“Fine, fine.” Pat shrugs. “Since this all is still so fresh. But sooner or later, you guys’ll have to figure things out for yourselves.”
“I know. But anyway, thanks, Pat.”
“You’re welcome, Ray.”
And so, Pat walks off, over to wherever Gene is. Ray leans down to grab his drink from the floor, and he holds out his free hand to help Carol up from her seat. She takes it easily.
“I feel like I’ve been such an idiot,” Carol says.
“You’re not, babe.” He rubs his thumb over her hand. “Hearts can be fickle things. We can’t control them. So it leads us to doing… idiotic things, sometimes. But that doesn’t mean we ourselves are idiots.”
I certainly haven’t been able to control my own heart regarding Gene. But at least Carol’s here.
Her cheeks deepen to a darker shade of red. “That makes sense. You’re such a gentleman.”
Now his own cheeks feel hotter, too. “Why thank you, Carrie. I’m not sure how long everyone plans on staying here before we head back to the hotel, but I’ll be sure to not leave your side.”
“Alright,” she says with a smile.
Gene’s not sure where Ray went, as he’d gotten caught up talking with Maurice in the greenroom.
Maurice was telling Gene about how he used to drive all around Michigan for an old job delivering agricultural supplies, but had only been up to the U.P.
a few times since there’s not as much farmland up here.
Being mostly a giant wilderness of dense forests, Gene can see why.
It seems like Maurice has done a lot in life already, but it makes sense, given he’s a little bit older than Gene and the rest of the Brooms. As a matter of fact, Maurice’s twenty-seventh birthday is coming up in a couple days.
The Brooms don’t have a show that night, but they’ll certainly be holding a fantastic party for their wonderful photographer.
“What’s your dad do for a living?” Maurice asks Gene, the conversation flowing.
“He’s the assistant director of the GM plant back home,” Gene says.
“Assistant director of GM… Wait a second. When did he get that job?”
“He got promoted to the position back around when I turned nine. That would’ve been… 1962. Why do you ask?”
“No fucking way.” Maurice’s jaw hangs open. “My dad, too, used to be the assistant director at the GM plant. But then… he died. You know what year he died?”
“Wait… 1962?”
“Yup. Which means—when my dad died, your dad took his old spot.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Gene’s brows shoot up. “I can hardly believe it. What are the odds? I’m sorry your dad’s not around any longer but… oh my god.”
Maurice waves a hand. “It’s fine. I had a… a bad relationship with him. It’s all in the past now. But still, I can’t believe how crazy a coincidence that all is.”
“Yeah. That is crazy.” Not long after Gene’s father got promoted at GM, their whole family moved across town, and Gene had to switch elementary schools.
He used to be classmates with Ray, but because of the move, they wouldn’t meet again until 1972—ten years later.
He wonders if Maurice’s father had never died, if his own father never got that promotion, would he have become friends with Ray at a younger age?
Or perhaps it all happened for a reason—he reunited with Ray at the perfect time, as adults, fate and their love of music bringing them back together at that bus stop.
It’s certainly fascinating to think about.
Maurice lights up a pre-rolled joint from an Altoids tin in his pocket, and offers it to Gene. “You smoke weed?”
“Can’t say I’ve ever tried,” Gene says.
“A rockstar that doesn’t smoke weed?” Maurice chuckles, taking a drag from his joint.
“Hey, I didn’t say I don’t smoke weed, just that I’ve never tried.” Gene laughs as well. “May I have a go?”
“Sure thing. Don’t try to suck up too much at once, though. You’re gonna cough otherwise.”
“I’ll be fine. I’m used to smoking cigarettes.”
“Alright.” Maurice hands the joint to Gene.
He puts it up to his lips, and sucks in a breath. It actually goes down smoother than tobacco, with a little bit of a citrus flavor added to it. He exhales the smoke, then hands it back to the photographer. “Thanks, man. That was great.”
“Glad you liked it.” He takes a puff of his own, careful to blow the smoke away from Gene. “Would you like another? One hit doesn’t really do too much.”
“Sure, if you’re offering.”
“I’ll always offer you some, don’t worry about it.”
“Alright.”
Maurice passes the joint again, and Gene takes another hit. This time it shakes something in his throat unexpectedly. He coughs, he coughs and he coughs, handing it back one more time. “Shit—” He coughs again. “Hope I didn’t just cough it all up just now.”
“You should be fine,” Maurice chuckles. “You still took it into your lungs, and that’s what matters.”
Gene coughs again. “Gotcha.”
As he’s trying to gain his composure, Pat all of a sudden shows up at his side. She’s got a curious expression on her face, one he can’t quite read.
“Oh—” He coughs. “Hey Pat, what’s up?”
“So,” Pat says, “I’ve been sent to give you a heads up. You’ll need to pick a different room tonight, rather than sleep in your usual one with Ray and Santi.”
Gene blinks. “What—why? What happened?” His stomach drops.
This is all so sudden. He’d thought that after how he and Ray held hands on the bus this morning, that things were getting better between them.
That they could go back to their usual closeness, how things were before, and they could share a bed again. Now he’s being asked to leave?
“Take a look over there, and you can see it happening in real time.” Pat points behind herself, to a certain couple of people by the back wall…
If Gene were holding a drink, he would’ve dropped it.
He can hardly breathe.
He can’t take his eyes off them.
There is Ray, holding Carol’s hand. They’re so ridiculously close to each other, noses almost touching, bodies pressed against one another’s. But it’s not just that. As Gene keeps staring—
Ray leans forward slightly, ever so small a movement, and he presses his lips to Carol’s.
Gene’s heart sinks.
Of course. Of fucking course.
He shouldn’t be so surprised. Gene himself told Carol this morning how much Ray liked her.
He basically told her that she should be with Ray.
And what, did he really expect that Ray would give up trying to get with her after all that happened?
That something inside Ray had changed, that holding Gene’s hand actually meant something more?
In what world would Ray ever pick Gene over Carol?
This is all just a big slap in the face that Gene truly needs to get over himself. That he shouldn’t be harboring such queer thoughts. So what if Ray’s with Carol now? So what, so what, so what…
It shouldn’t feel like betrayal, but yet it does.
“Hey, Gene? Are you okay?” Maurice is asking.
Gene shakes his head, attempting to also shake off his unnecessary thoughts. “I don’t know. I feel really strange about all this.”
Maurice looks over to Ray as well, then back to Gene. “If you need to get away from Ray for a bit, you can crash in my room. Seems like you and him got a lot going on. Last night, he was the one in my room.”
“Oh, that’s where he was last night?” Gene asks.
“Yeah. But it’s all fine with me. Whatever I can do to help, y’know, I’ll help.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it.”
“You guys all good then?” Pat asks.
“Yeah,” Gene says. “Um, I guess thanks for letting me know.”
“No problem. I hope this all blows over for you. The last thing we need is for you guys to get in a fight and it upsets the whole band, y’know.”
“For sure. I’ll… I’ll be fine. I’ll get over it.”
Because Pat is right. He must get over it. He can’t let these feelings for Ray get in the way of the band. The Dusty Brooms mean the whole world to him.
Nothing can get in the way of his music.