Chapter 4 #3
I hear what he’s saying. I hear what he’s not saying too.
“JD?”
JD has one earbud out now. He’s half-watching Eden through the glass, his body angled toward the gym.
“I can’t do another tour right now,” he says. “Eden needs me here. Jenna would kill me if I missed this. And she’d have every right to.”
Nobody speaks. Juniper babbles into my chest, a string of sounds that almost form a word.
“So what are we saying?” I ask.
Harrison rotates his shoulder. The wince comes back, smaller this time. “We’re saying what we’ve been saying for a year without saying it. The band is at a crossroads.”
None of us says the real word. None of us will.
“We should talk about this in person,” Harrison says. “All three of us in the same room.”
“Agreed,” JD says. He puts his earbud back in. Through the glass, Eden steps off the balance platform and reaches for a towel.
“Come to Beaumont,” I say. “Both of you. Bring the families. We’ll figure it out.”
“We can after Eden’s next competition,” JD says.
“I’ll check with Katelyn,” Harrison says, which means yes.
The call ends, and everything is quiet except for the babies.
Juniper makes the sign for food and then fusses, and because I’m old, I set her on the floor, stand and scoop both of them into my arms. We go into the kitchen, where they have highchairs.
I set them down and make sure they can’t slip out.
“Okay, kiddos. What do you want?” I open the pantry and see that my wife has labeled everything. Each one of the triplets has favorites. I reach for those. Junie likes banana puffs while Maverick likes Cheerios.
After pouring some out on their trays, I sit there and ponder where I’m at in life and where the band fits. There’s nothing wrong with taking time off. Many successful bands do, and then they come back full force.
In our breakfast nook, where Josie has the highchairs set up, the walls are covered with black and white photographs from every aspect of our lives, even when we weren’t together.
My eyes find a picture of the band at Metro, the night Harrison and I played our first gig together.
We hadn’t found JD yet. Harrison’s behind the kit with a grin so wide his eyes disappear, and I’m holding the mic stand with both hands, leaning into it, mouth open mid-lyric.
All I wanted to do was make music then.
Another picture is of the three of us at our first arena show.
Sold-out, three nights in a row. JD stands on my left, Harrison on the riser behind us, all three of us drenched in sweat and stage light.
The crowd is a wall of raised arms stretching to the back of the room.
I remember what that sounded like. I remember the pressure against my ribs.
And then there’s a picture of Josie, Noah, Paige, and me, at the beach. We look peaceful, happy. And I could really enjoy this life.
I missed so much of Noah’s life. Even when I was back here, we still toured. Sure, he came with me, but not all the time. Even when I was here, I wasn’t. He’s such a better husband and father than I was.
Better than I am.
He quit his job so he could stay home and raise his children. I continued to leave.
These babies are going to start walking and talking soon. I can be here for that, or I can be playing to half-empty rooms in cities and doing meet and greets to keep the fans happy.
The front door opens and Josie comes into the kitchen. Her face lights up, as does Juniper and Maverick’s. They love their grandma.
“Look at you three,” she says. “How are Grandma’s babies?”
They babble the loudest they have been all day.
Paige follows and I no longer exist. She goes to Juniper and takes her out of her highchair, while Josie fusses with Maverick.
“Peyton called. Jace will be okay in a few days. Nick put him on an antibiotic.”
“That’s good.”
Josie kisses me, but with her lips, I get Maverick’s fingers too. “Tasty.”
She sits in the chair across from me. She’s wearing jeans and one of my old flannel shirts with the sleeves rolled to her elbows.
“Mom, here’s your coffee. Dad, this one is yours,” Paige returns with Junie on her hip.
“Thanks.” Josie tries to hold Juniper, but she clings to Paige.
“We’re going upstairs. I’m going to paint her nails.”
“Wait, is that safe?” I ask.
“Yes, Nick checked this baby polish I found. Said it’s fine.”
Nick. He’s around to make sure the babies are okay.
Josie drinks her coffee, one-handed, cradling our grandson.
For over twenty years, I’ve been married to this woman.
She still makes me stupid. She takes a sip, and a drop of coffee stays on her lower lip.
She catches it with her tongue, and I forget about the band, the show, the crossroads, the empty seats.
These are the things that are real. My wife’s lower lip.
My grandson playing with his grandma’s hair.
The coffee going cold because I don’t want to move.
Later, we’ll talk about everyone coming to town. She’ll be happy. I know she misses Katelyn and Jenna and wishes they’d move back to Beaumont.
Truth is, I miss everyone too.