42. James
James
FIVE YEARS LATER
Dusting the mantel above the fireplace in their home on Iping Island always caused James equal bolts of pride and embarrassment.
When they’d moved in three years earlier, having quickly outgrown the single room above Regina’s house, Emory had insisted James’s Nomey for Best Pop Duo / Group Performance go on display for all their visitors to see.
Originally, he’d wanted to bury it in the yard like he’d heard tell many Hollywood eccentrics had done before him.
The mini golden Victrola was from five years earlier, after all, and he’d stopped going by the name on the plaque as soon as he left the mainland for good.
After his seesaw of faith and his separation from celebrity, he’d decided he no longer felt like a Gerard.
All his research into the saint he shared a name with left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
Besides, if he was making a clean break from the spotlight, he wanted to leave behind as many pieces of it as possible.
His name had been printed on too many pieces of merchandise.
Going by his middle name—the name he’d slowly grown to enjoy using his first time on Iping—was an easy decision. Wells he was stuck with.
Up until a year prior, that was.
He finished dusting his award and moved on to the photo frames that were lined up like faithful soldiers on the other end of the mantel.
The first picture he saw was their wedding photo.
A year before, the two of them had stood at the altar inside the church on Iping in matching emerald suits, with Father Daniels officiating the service.
As an avid member of the parish community and the second-in-command for the choir, James wanted to have a religious ceremony.
He might not have believed everything the church did, but the sacrament itself still held weight in his heart.
After some greasing of the wheels by Regina, Father Daniels agreed to bend the rules for Emory, who was a strict atheist, and they became the first same-sex couple to be married on Iping.
From then on, he’d forever be known as James Griffin.
Emory never said it outright, but as the ink on their marriage license dried, James sensed taking his husband’s last name meant a lot to him, cemented them as true family, which Emory had gone a lifetime without.
“How is everybody getting here?” Emory asked as he descended the narrow, curved staircase with another plastic tub of Halloween decorations.
The house had two stories, three bedrooms, and a history dating back to 1910.
What had sold James and Emory were the recent renovations, the bay views from the bedroom, and the enclosed porch where they often rested after dinner to discuss the day’s work or have a jam session.
The only reason they could afford it mortgage-free? Royalties.
“The Invisibility Song” was a modest hit after its premiere at the Nomey Awards, but much like the despair over We the Wells disbanding, it faded quickly.
A year or two later, a teen on a social media app choreographed a dance to it that went viral.
Suddenly, the song was everywhere at Halloween time and even started outstreaming “The Monster Ball.” Regina claimed to not care, but it was still fun to tease her about it.
“My parents, Gavin, Jen, and Jojo decided to fly to Maryland and then take the ferry. Jojo’s never been on a boat before.
” Once We the Wells disbanded, Gavin and his wife, Jen, had gotten to work on starting their family, and a year and a half later, they’d welcomed a healthy baby girl into their lives.
She was three and already singing up a storm in the videos Gavin sent to the brothers’ group chat several times a week.
Maybe she’d have siblings and they’d go on to form a band of their own.
“What about Garret?” Emory asked, adding the plastic bin to the huge pile of materials they needed to cart out to the stage that was being built down by the dock as they spoke.
“I have no idea about Garret. Last I heard he was in London playing a show at the O2 and that his plan was to fly to New York and have his assistant figure out the rest from there.” James set the duster down and took a sip of water from the sweating glass on the coffee table in their sitting room, which contained the rocker and love seat from their first apartment, generously gifted to them by Regina.
“Getting in touch with his assistant is even harder than getting in touch with him. In the group text, when I asked if they’d both be there for mic check, he gave the message a thumbs-up. ”
“That’s more of a response than he gave to our wedding invitation,” Emory joked in a knowing, loving fashion. He’d slid into the Wells family so seamlessly, adding a sixth energy to their topsy-turvy dynamic.
“He claims he got it on the day his solo album got a rave in Pitchfork, so we have to give him a pass.” James rolled his eyes at his brother’s ego. Faults and all, he loved the guy. Couldn’t help it. “Were you able to bring back the decorations from your classroom?”
After a year or two of working the Susanna again with Joe, Emory had finished his community service, paid back his debts, and gotten a teaching certificate online.
He took a job teaching science at the school.
“All but the pumpkin we carved. It already started rotting. The kids almost rioted when I told them I had to throw it out. All good in here?”
“Just about,” James said, draining the rest of his water glass.
The nervousness must’ve been evident in his voice because Emory asked, “Your dad knows this isn’t a We the Wells reunion, right?”
“I’ve repeated it enough. Hopefully it stuck.
” When Garret went solo, the label had decided to set him up with a whole new team for a sound and image rebrand, leaving their father out in the cold.
Instead of seeking other types of work, he’d attempted fruitlessly to parlay the success strategy he’d used for his sons as manager of a few other boy bands that failed to launch.
The industry had changed too much, and he couldn’t keep up.
But James was certain his dad would land on his feet eventually.
Emory tipped in and kissed him. “Everything is going to be great. Shall we load up the golf cart?”