Memphis
“What the hell am I supposed to do with a Mercedes, boy?”
I bite back a laugh. To be a fly on the wall when the dealership dropped off Archie’s new car.
Hitting the speakerphone button, I toss another t-shirt into my duffel bag. “How about drive it?”
I don’t spend money on much because I don’t need much.
However, Archie and Valerie deserve nothing short of the best life has to offer.
Too bad Archie’s pride gets in the way of that.
“The only place I’m driving it is back to the dealership.”
I’m one step ahead of him. “If you do, they’ll charge me a return fee.”
And fuck knows the only thing Archie loves more than Valerie is pinching pennies.
“Son of a gun. That’s some baloney.”
Heading into the bathroom, I grab some essentials. “Yeah, so why don’t you do me a solid and keep it. Besides, I got a great deal on it.”
A little white lie never hurt anyone.
“This is too much, Memphis.”
It’s not enough.
“But I’d hate for them to charge you. Plus, it is a beautiful car and I look damn good in it. Valerie says it makes me look ten years younger and twenty pounds slimmer.”
Evidently, I’m not the only one telling Archie little white lies.
I throw another pair of jeans in my bag. “Must be those heated leather seats.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. But listen up, if I agree to keep this Mercedes, then you have to take back the kitchen.”
Getting him to accept the car was enough of a battle, so I play dumb. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Like hell you don’t. Yesterday some guy showed up at the house and said he was here to redo our whole entire kitchen.
I told Valerie not to let him in, but you know how she is.
Five minutes later they were plotting and scheming at the dining room table and he was assuring me the renovations were going to be fabulous. ”
“Well, you know what they say. Sometimes change is good.”
“I don’t need a fabulous kitchen. The one we got is just fine.”
“Should we go with laminate or ceramic countertops?” Valerie asks in the background.
“We should keep the ones we already have.”
“Granite,” I chime in. “It’s more durable.”
“And more expensive,” Archie bellyaches. “Dang it. We don’t need all this. It’s too much.”
“You never charged me for anything while I was living there,” I remind him.
“Of course not. We’re family—”
“Exactly. So let me do this.”
“But—”
“You once told me it was far better for a man to lose his pride than the love of his life.”
“I’m not in love with my kitchen, boy.”
I pull out the big guns. “No, but you are in love with Valerie. Don’t you think she deserves this?”
I know I’ve got him because he has no retort this time.
Everyone has an Achilles’ heel.
“All right, but stick to spoiling her from now on, ya hear? I don’t need no fancy things.”
I zip up my duffel. “Fine. But if you go with one of those fancy double ovens Valerie can bake you even more pie. Just saying.”
I picture him rubbing his chin as he mulls this over. “You know, if God didn’t bless you with that extraordinary gift of yours, you would have made one hell of a lawyer.”
“Yeah, but I hear the hours are shit.”
“Can’t be worse than the ones you’re pulling now. How long are you gonna be on this world tour?”
I inhale a deep breath before giving him the rundown.
“The first leg’s in the US for three months.
Then we’ll be back in LA for promo bullshit and the Grammys.
A few days later, we head to South America for a month.
Australia for another. After that, we’ll be back in the US for the summer tour.
Then it’s straight to Europe for another six weeks.
Then we’ll finally get some studio time to work on the next album. ”
“Sweet Jesus,” he exclaims. “When do you plan on sleeping?”
“When I’m dead.”
“Better make me some grandbabies before then,” Valerie calls out.
“That would require him not being on tour for the rest of his life,” Archie says. “Although I imagine you can have your pick of the litter anywhere, no?”
That’s his not-so-subtle way of asking if I’ve met anyone yet.
I’ve met plenty of chicks.
But no one like her.
“I’ve been focusing on music.”
And when I’m not, I’m at the gym…taking all my aggression out.
“Good,” Valerie chimes in. “The last thing you want is some trashy girl pawing all over you. You need a nice, wholesome girl.”
“Yeah,” Archie agrees. “Them trashy girls are no good.” He lowers his voice. “But they’re a lot of fun—ouch. Dang it, woman. Quit pinching me and go pick out your tiles. Let me talk to our son man-to-man.”
The muscles in my chest draw tight. Son.
“I’m not dating anyone,” I inform him, shaking it off. “I don’t have time for that shit.”
And I’m missing the hardware having a relationship requires.
Because it belongs to someone else.
“Right.” He hesitates a beat…and then. “How’s your brother doing?”
“Fine.”
Sitting on the bed, I look around my humble abode. Apart from the purple silk sheets I splurged on, it’s simple. Laid back.
Just the way I like it.
“So is Sky,” I tack on because I know he wants to ask.
He just doesn’t want to bring her up in front of me.
However, whether he mentions her or not the girl is always on my mind.
Snaking through my bloodstream like a poison there’s no antidote for.
I fucking hate it.
“That’s good.” Sadness colors his tone. “We’ve been calling him, but he never answers the phone.”
Just one more reason Josh is a selfish prick. Archie and Valerie never asked us for a fucking thing after Sharp Objects took off…aside from weekly phone calls to check in.
And the shithead can’t even manage that.
“Well, I’ll be stuck with him for the next few months, so I’ll make sure he gives you a call.”
“Please do. We’ve been worried.”
More worried than he’s letting on by the sound of it.
“I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Not because I want to.
Because I have to.
“I know you will.” He exhales sharply. “I have to mow the lawn before Valerie threatens to withhold supper, but we’re very proud of you, Memphis.”
That feeling in my chest is back, but I shove it down. “Thanks.”
“Stay safe, son. We love you.”
I love you too, Dad.
The words are on the tip of my tongue…but I don’t say them.
I can’t.
The last person I said it to died.
“You too,” I mumble instead.
And then I hang up.
Rubbing the knot forming in my neck, I stare at my duffel bag.
We’ve done a tour before, but it was alongside other up-and-coming bands.
There were always so many people around, I could easily avoid Sky. Even going so far as to crash on another band’s bus.
But this time there are no other groups joining us. All our opening acts are local.
And there is no other bus. Just one.
Which means I can’t avoid her.