28. Chase
Aweek-long break back home was a welcome change from bus naps and hotel hopping.
Chase didn’t have a particular fondness for his room at Lydia’s apartment. It was as devoid of personality as any upper-tier hotel room he’d stayed at, but he was looking forward to getting a solid night’s sleep for more than a one to three-day recess. Or so he thought.
Because on his first morning back in his own bed, it was not a phone call waking him, but Lydia.
“Let’s go!” She tossed something heavy onto the mattress that hit his thigh and rolled off. Then she hoisted up the blinds on his east-facing window.
His eyes adjusted to the sudden invasion of morning light, and he realized it was a sports bottle full of water she had chucked at him, and that she was already prepped in a set of running shorts and a tank top, with her hair tied into a high, bouncy ponytail.
“…why?” It was the only sound he could muster, and in his mind, was more than enough to convey the point that he was not at all looking forward to her early morning plans.
“This is a prime opportunity for me. Do you know how long it’s been since I was able to outpace my brother at the gym? You went through puberty way too early for a guy. I only had a two-year advantage. But now, you’re sleep-deprived and you’ve been eating and living like a trucker for the past three months. The odds are finally stacked in my favor.”
“I don’t know, Lydia.” He rolled onto an elbow and propped himself up. “If you wanted to kick my ass in the gym, there was a pretty solid year-long window for that not too long ago.”
“That’s not fair. I don’t want to beat a cripple, I want to beat my able-bodied, fully-grown adult brother.”
“Still a cripple.” He gestured to the outline of his stump beneath the comforter.
“Bullshit. You have a running blade now. You’re basically a gazelle.”
“I see you don’t care much about the sleep-deprived part, then.”
Lydia gave him her widest eyes and saddest pout, and he knew whatever she said next was going to force him out of his warm, soft bed, and into a loud, overcrowded gym. “Is it a crime to want to hang out with my busy rock star brother while he’s in town? I still have to work full-time, you know. My free time is before 8 a.m. and after 8 p.m. And I’m booked solid after 8 p.m. because I’ve got rosé in the fridge and finally someone—that’s you—to listen to me bitch about my boss.”
Sure enough, that did the trick. He peeled back the covers with a heavy sigh. “Do you still bitch about your boss when there’s no one there to listen to it?”
“If a tree falls in the forest and no one’s there to hear it, does it make a sound?”
Chase shooed her off. “I’ll go. Just give me a minute.”
She gave him a parting grin, one hand on her hip. “You’re so easy. I love it.”
And why? Why am I so easy?Chase wondered as his body was sweating before his mind was fully functional.
Dance music blasted through the speakers at their condo’s gym as people crammed in their workouts before heading to their jobs. Before, Chase had gone at 10 p.m., long after everyone else was unwinding at home. Occasionally there would be another late-night straggler, but he’d never had anyone come up to him to strike up a conversation or tell him that it was inspiring what he could do with only one leg.
He realized that he didn’t care so much, now, when he caught people giving his leg a second glance. It didn’t bother him when recognition crossed their faces because he no longer knew what, exactly, they were recognizing him for. They could just as easily be wanting to ask him about the album and the tour as they could be wanting to talk about hockey, and the ambiguity gave him some peace of mind he hadn’t had before.
“… so, I CC”d her on the email chain with Garrett so he could confirm everything I already told her. And then she listened. I don’t get it. It’s like her biggest professional goal is to be a pain in my ass. I know I’m young for a manager, but everyone there knows how anal I am. It’s how I got the job in the first place. And… you’re not listening to anything I’m saying, are you?”
Chase turned to look at Lydia, huffing out words with every exhale as she did chest presses on the machine next to his.
“I am. Katie’s a complete bitch who doesn’t value your expertise or take your professional directives seriously until you bring in the vice president of the company to validate them,” he recounted. “And also, she rehomed her ailing senior cat after getting pregnant, and she complained that the French fries were too salty when your department went out for a team-building night at the pub. She reminds me of the devil himself. Truly.”
“I know, right? French fries can never be too salty. Just like pizza can never be too cheesy. It’s a universal law.”
His stomach growled as he pushed outward on the handles again.
For all his grumbling earlier, being back at the gym was cathartic. On tour, busyness worked overtime to diminish the stress. Chase hadn’t noticed how stressed he was until it rolled off his shoulders along with all the sweat.
Seemingly satisfied with his summary, Lydia took a break between sets and wiped her brow with her floral-print towel. “You seem out of it. And not just because I dragged you out of bed.”
“I missed dinner last night. Not only did you drag me out of bed,but you keep talking about food,” he said as he exhaled. “You were going on about that new brunch place on the way here, and then telling me about your new favorite ice cream bars, and then saying that you know a good Mexican pastry shop we should check out in Anaheim. Now the salty fries, the cheesy pizza…”
“Duh. Why do you think I never miss a workout?” she said. Whenever Lydia wasn’t eating a well-balanced, meal-prepped salad, she was putting away enough calories to rival some of the guys Chase used to play with. “Life is all about balance. And speaking of balance, how’s Zak?”
“What does that have to do with balance?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to ask. Is that a crime?”
Chase glanced skeptically at his sister, who never gave up on prying that easily. He must not have convinced her that exhaustion and hunger were the only things on his mind. “She’s great. Probably glad she stayed at her place last night, once I tell her you dragged me to the gym at the asscrack of dawn.”
“I meant how are things going with you and Zak?”
The weights slammed together as he lost his focus, and his grip. He couldn’t help the smile that cracked his face. “Things are good. Really good.”
“Good,” she said, mirroring his expression. “I think she’s sort of perfect for you.”
Which was when he realized his sister had once again worn him down.
His love life post-tour hadn’t been top of mind, since there were still another three months minimum left on the road and a mountain of PR bullshit left to sort away afterward. But he hadn’t been able to share the news with anyone else, and Lydia wasn’t going to let him off the hook until she wrang every detail out of him.
He let go of the handles and chugged some water before facing her. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Go for it, dude.”
“Would you be bothered if I moved out?”
“Bothered?” She laughed. “I hope you haven’t been avoiding bringing that up because you’re worried about me or something. You know I lived without you for four years, right?”
“Yes, I know that.”
Her eyes lit up as she restrained a squeal. Barely. “You’re moving in with her? I’m really happy for you. I’m happy you’re happy and enjoying life again, after everything you went through. Maybe now Ican stop worrying about you so much.”
He hoped so, too. Of all the shitty things about almost dying, seeing how it impacted Lydia had been one of the worst. Though she hadn”t let that positive attitude slip in front of him, being raised by people who never revealed their emotions made them both pretty good at inferring.
“I’m sorry I made you worry about me, Lyd.”
“I don’t need a sorry.” She waved him off. “But I wouldn’t mind a, ‘Thank you for making me sing karaoke.’”
“Truly, from the bottom of my heart,” he placed a hand on his chest. “Thank you for forcing me to go to that god-awful party.”
“‘You were right, my darling sister,’” she prompted.
“You were right, you pushy brat.”
She shrugged. “I’ll take it.”
They continued their workout in a comfortable silence, which Lydia broke minutes later.
“But, Chase?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re still going to come over all the time, right? When you’re not on tour or whatever?”
He smiled back at her. “Of course. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have someone to drink rosé with me while I bitch about our manager after 8 p.m. on weekdays.”
“Or after noon on weekends,” Lydia added.
“Keep me in your schedule, dudette.”
They had shows in Seattle, Portland, Sacramento, and Anaheim when the tour picked back up, right before heading northeast once more to hit Boston, New Haven, New York City, and Syracuse.
Lydia had pestered him to make sure she was on the Anaheim backstage pass list from the moment tickets went on sale, so he knew to expect her there when they arrived hours before the show to hurry up and wait, as was the normal routine.
Chase just hadn’t expected to see his parents.
“I hope you didn’t pay full price,” he told his mom and dad as he gave them a quick hug hello and had an inward laugh about how out of place they looked surrounded by such an alternative group of people.
Considering Holly still had her qualms with the length of his hair, he was sure they had strong opinions on Bobby’s mane, which could be tucked into the back pockets of his jeans. And that was not even touching on all the other appearance sins backstage. Everyone’s tattoos, which were far flashier than the little symbol Chase”s parents loathed on his left ring finger. The metal in Dallas’s face. The hemline of Zak’s dress.
“Oh no, we got in for free,” his mother said. “We thought we’d surprise you, so we asked Zak.”
“Did you?” He glanced over his shoulder at Zak, who was standing a few yards away, talking to the sound engineers. “Well, I’m glad you could make it. I hope you enjoy the show.”
After how comfortable he’d gotten around here, talking to his parents felt like talking to a classroom of kindergarteners. Time to modulate everything he said, watch his tone, and hope no one caught him using a swear word.
Holly elbowed Richard. If she thought the action was subtle, she was mistaken. “What were you telling me in the car, dear? About our son?”
Chase waited patiently. Whatever it was, he was sure he’d heard it before.
“We’re worried about you.”
“We just want what’s best for you.”
“How are you really doing?”
“Have you been having second thoughts about anything?”
“I just wanted to let you know”—Chase’s father cleared his throat—“I think what you’re doing here is really, uh, fantastic.”
“You do?”
It wasn’t what he”d expected to hear. And at that, he had his suspicions. His dad sounded like someone was waterboarding him to get that last word out.
“Yeah. I mean, I can see why you wanted to do this. Why you were so serious about it.”
It had been… never. He had never seen his father falter with wording before this moment. And while he shouldbe focusing on how it was sort of heartwarming, what he was actually focusing on was holding back his laughter at how difficult it was for his father to say something supportive.
“Because—” Richard stumbled again over his words.
Chase had been told his entire life how much he looked like his dad. They were the same height and build, though his dad had packed on some extra pounds when he made the move from playing sports to watching them. It was like having a sneak peek at what Chase would look like with graying hair and aging skin.
But he could never relate to his father before the way he could now, watching Richard struggle to express himself the same way Chase had struggled all his life to do the same.
It seemed they had more in common than just appearances.
“You’ve got a real talent for it. I can’t believe I never noticed you were any good at singing,” his father said. “Maybe that’s why I was so resistant. Didn’t want to find out that I barely knew my own kid.”
“I didn’t know I was any good at it either.” Chase threw him a life raft. “I never really sang much. And not around other people, ever.”
“Well, I’m glad you are. I think you’ve got something special, son. And I’m sorry I was too lousy of a parent to see that. I hope, if it’s okay with you, that we get the chance to go to more of these, uh, shindigs.”
Lydia made an “oo” face that went unrecognized by both of their parents.
Chase smiled at her reaction, at his father’s word choice, and most of all, at the sentiment. “Yeah, Dad. I’ll make sure you’re both on the list for all the shindigs. And if there’s a city you had in mind, let me know so I can book you the plane tickets and hotel reservations.”
“You don’t have to do that, sweetie,” Holly said. “We’re doing fine.”
“And you both are the reason I’m doing much more than fine.” Especially if things continued to pick up the way they were, with Zak pushing for a new album before they’d finished promoting the first one. “I want to do this. I want you to be there as long as you want to be there.”
“But you’re not invited to the after-parties,” Lydia tacked on. “Because that would just be embarrassing.”
“Why?” Holly asked. “Your father and I know how to boogie. Disco was big when we were your age.”
“Oh god, that’s exactly why,” Lydia said under her breath.
Chase couldn’t picture his dad at a disco any more than he could picture the man at an opera theater or a craft store, and the effort of trying to picture it was enough to make him burst out laughing. Lydia joined in, maybe for the same reason. And to his surprise, both his parents laughed, too.
Reflexively, he checked to see if Zak was still on the other side of the room. His past issues with his parents had nothing to do with her, but it still felt like she was a big part of resolving them. Like he owed the relief he breathed in to her support, advice, and positive example. Even if she didn’t think she was one.
“You know, we really like that girlfriend of yours, too,” his mother said, snapping his attention back to her.
“Really?” Chase was going to have to remember how to properly shut his mouth once his parents were done breaking all these revelations to him.
“Yeah!” Holly said in the most Midwestern tone of voice possible. “At first, I thought maybe she was a little… hmm, I don’t know, hard? But we talked for a while about the tickets, and she’s really a sweet girl in her own way. She really cares about you. I can’t ask more for my son than someone who loves him like that.”
“And she’s damn good at the guitar,” his dad pitched in, as if he knew a guitar from a violin. Though Chase couldn’t blame him. It didn’t take an expert to recognize talent like hers. “There are a lot of women out there who go after the money and fame. Glad you found yourself one who wants you for you. A superstar on her own.”
“She definitely is.” Chase smiled at his shoelaces because it would have been a cheesy, embarrassing one to flash to his parents. “And I’m glad you like her. She’ll be around for a while.”
“That’s good.” His mother nodded. “And you can tell her to go ahead and use the f-word. I may be old, but I know she’s not trying to say fu-reak-ing every time.”
“I’ll pass that along,” he said, but when he turned around, Zak was already on her way over. Brandishing a minimally contained smirk that told him she’d heard it all herself.
“Hey there, Mr. and Mrs. P. Ready for the VIP tour?” She gave them each a pat on the back. “You’re going to lose your shit when you see the snack bar in the green room. It’s fucking amazing.”
Richard’s eyes made one last sweep over the facility before he decided to do what he did best—adapt to the crowd—and responded to Zak with a fist in the air and an enthusiastic: “Fuck yeah, let’s do it.”
“Fuck yeah!” Holly joined in, trying it out herself. “That is kind of fun, isn’t it? Makes you feel like a real rebel. Oh, don’t give your dad and I that face, Chase William. I’ve heard those lyrics you sing, in case you forgot.”
Chase didn’t know whatface he was making, but there was no unmaking it.
Zak’s eyebrows shot straight up to her hairline as she gave him and Lydia with a massive, sparkling, what-the-fuck grin. “We’ll make a rebel of you yet, Mrs. P.”